"Yeah lead on then, I got th'rear."
Grn'nak follows Britton, and keeps a watch around looking for any signs of snares, pitfalls, or possibly bear traps like Milon warned us about.
"I'll try and keep an eye out for any surprises here."
Looking at Grn'nak. "Milon I think will be very grateful if we get what Laurel needs to help cure this sickness. Should make it easier for you to get work through him when the time comes."
"Hmm, I hope so. However, I'm sure that thug at Laurel's hut will need a "talking" to before too long. Heh. I'd just like to leave some of that behind me... So, how come you never ended up working for the consortium there Brit? It seems like it might be the easiest way in town to earn a living...as long as you're not actually doing the lumberjack work anyways."
Felmor walks behind the group, lost in his thoughts. Truth be told, he wasn't really concerned about anybody sneaking up on them, as he just wanted to be left alone, and not have to deal with the prattle of the local ranger and the half orc. Ahead of him he could see the gnome healer and the Chelaxian noble lady walking together, the taller woman helping the shorter one keep pace.
Man this place is weird. Spooky. Glad I don't have to be here by myself. He had heard some pretty crazy stories about these woods, and he could believe them, easily.
Wondering about the lady Armandia, he starts to ask her a question or say something to her, but then stops, unsure what to say. It just comes out as a grunt.
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"Hmm, I hope so. However, I'm sure that thug at Laurel's hut will need a "talking" to before too long. Heh. I'd just like to leave some of that behind me... So, how come you never ended up working for the consortium there Brit? It seems like it might be the easiest way in town to earn a living...as long as you're not actually doing the lumberjack work anyways."Looking at Grn'nak. "Milon I think will be very grateful if we get what Laurel needs to help cure this sickness. Should make it easier for you to get work through him when the time comes."
"My father owns a plowhorse and ox farm just outside of town. The Consortium needs beasts of burden to get their work done even though the prices they pay no one would call fair. I'm the youngest in my family so I would help out at the farm but mostly I was left alone. I love to hunt and the older I got the better at it I got. Soon people who knew me would hire me to trap or bring in game. My first big purchase with the gold I made was Lord here." Brit pats the dog.
The five companions trek north through the forest, their voices echoing amongst the trees, bouncing back and forth in the dark. Little light penetrates the canopy of the Darkmoon forest, creating an air of oppressive gloom and casting a shadow over our party. The light flickers through the leaves casting shapes among the shadows and playing upon the eyes.
At first, you find the forest easy to navigate, the trees are spaced far and there is little undergrowth to hinder you. Occassionaly you hear the odd logger in the distance singing a song and the sound of activity in the camp still reaches your ears. But after about an hour or so the foilage becomes thicker and thicker and light mist rolls in our party's path. Strange plants brush against your legs and seems as if you must wade through a sea of bracken with every step. The wildlife also seems to leap to life. Large crow-like birds caw from the low branches whilst the occasional shuffle from the side of your path indicates a creature you have no doubt disturbed.
It is a short while after this change that you all hear a loud shuffling approaching from the east of your path about 50ft away...
Lord growls deeply at the sound but takes a step or two backwards keeping low to the floor...
"There's a small humanoid about 40' out in the woods. It's no bigger than the gnome."
AoO: Damage:
Felton utters a vile sailors oath, and draws his club and dagger.
He looks around on all sides of the group, trying to spot additional ambushers, while moving closer to the ladies.
Earlier:
The addressing Mezari. "So how do you know so much about plants and herbs Mezari?"
"I've studied medicine for some time, I'm familiar with the general herbal remedies and basic antidotes. I've seen or used all of the plants we're looking for at least once, so if we can locate them I should be able to identify them as soon as I see them." She smiles slightly and gives Brit a confident nod.
Now:
As they move into the woods Barzai occasionally flits up off Mezari's shoulder and disappears into the canopy, only to return a few moments later, usually with a bug or some other trophy to eat. When the group gets into combat, he flees into a tree - remaining close enough to watch his mistress but out of the line of sight.
Her eyes catch a glimpse of a figure about her size, humanoid in shape; her reflexive guess is goblin or kobold, and unless they're closer to the mines than she estimated her bet is on the former. She remains at her place near the back of the line, spending a moment to draw and load her crossbow. No point in wasting magic yet, but if it is a goblin or kobold... well, where there's one there's always more.
(Move action: Draw crossbow
2nd Move action: Load crossbow)
Stuff
Initiative Order
Felmor
Mezari
Britton
Grn'nak
Creature
Armandia
Felmor mutters a vile sailor's oath, rarely heard on dry land. He draws his club and dagger whilst looking around on all sides of the group, trying to spot additional ambushers whilst moving closer to the ladies. He spots no more foes but as the mist rolls back he catches a glimpse of the source of the disturbance... A strange creature, it is a small walking kobold corpse. It wears only a few rags and has a wooden placard hanging from its neck decorated in archaic symbols. Flesh and scales rot off the bones as the creature stumbles foward, arms swaying from side to side.
Meanwhile a small bat shoots from Mezari's shoulder off into the higher branches of the trees. The click of a crossbow is heard as Mezari loads her weapon.
Britton gives a low whistle that seems to to resonate with Lord, who stays still but tenses his hind muscles preparing to strike. Meanwhile Britton trains his bow on the small area of the forest hand at the ready...
The first to speak Grn'nak addresses the group "There's a small humanoid about 40' out in the woods. It's no bigger than the gnome." He bravely moves foward whilst drawing his axe, catching sight of the terrible creature.
Shuffling foward, the disgusting little kobold zombie stumbles mindlessly ahead seemingly unaware of our heroes and almost walks straight into Grn'nak who proceeds to smash half the creatures skull away with the edge of his axe. The zombie still stands though and shakes its head thoughouly, a small rat scurries out of the skull skweeking angrily at Grn'nak.
Everyone else now spies the assailant and Brit looses an arrow which shoots past the zombie thudding into the mud behind it.
Initiative Order
Felmor
Mezari
Britton
Grn'nak
Creature
Armandia
Armandia walks forward 15 feet and holds up the holy symbol hanging on her neck.
Armandia walks foward holding the glowing symbol of Iomadae towards the zombie. Flashing holy light shoots forth from the symbol in all directions searing putrid flesh from rotting bone as the beast is hit with its full force. The smell of burning flesh fills everyones nostrils as the kobold adopts an aggressive stance. The zombie stares up at Grn'nak with its one eye, if one could place an emotion on the kobolds face, it would be anger.
ROUND 2
Felmor seeing this now realizes Armandia is a cleric. Pretty interesting he thought. He wished more clerics would become sailors, he remembered one time hearing about sea zombies which nearly overran another merchant vessel. The other sailors told him fire was very useful against the undeadf monstrocities, but using fire on a wooden vessel was problematic at best. Same here in a dense forest.
He figured keeping the walking corpse from Armandia would be a good idea.
Attack Damage bludgeoning.
Upon seeing the undead nature of the creature in front of him, Grn'nak's blood runs cold. He's used to seeing the normal blood and bones from wanton acts of violence against mooks who didn't want to pay...but the abomination in front of him is something completely different. Without being able to think of anything else in face of the vile being, he gives a great overhead chop at the thing.
Attack: Damage:
Armandia walks foward holding the glowing symbol of Iomadae towards the zombie. Flashing holy light shoots forth from the symbol in all directions searing putrid flesh from rotting bone as the beast is hit with its full force...
Undead? Why by all the gods would there be undead in the woods? And an undead kobold at that...?
Nothing left for it now. Crossbow wasn't exactly the most optimal weapon for use against zombies, but...
Too much crowd, too small target. Bah.
I hope you're not all waiting for ME
Felmor's boots crunch under the dry leaves as he moves towards the zombie. He spreads his legs wide and adopts a threatening position, eyes firmly fixed on his opponent.
*Whoosh!* A crossbow bolt shoots past the combatants and promtly thuds into a nearby tree as Mezari sighs.
"Holy Erastil?!? It smells like a deer left for rot...." chimes Brit's voice as he looses another arrow at the zombie. The arrow shoots through its fleshy body making yet another hole in the walking carcas.
The Zombie does'nt even seem fazed by the arrow though and steps to the side of a rather sluggish overhand chop from Grn'nak before swiping at him with a rotting clawed arm. The blow catches Grn'nak in the thigh and with supernatural strength almost takes his legs out from under him. Grn'nak recovers quickly but pain wracks his left leg as he looks down to see blood flowing freely.
Grn'nak lets out a roar of pain. Any misconceptions about fighting the dead flees his mind as he takes a (hopefully) better swing at the beast, trying to put it back to rest.
Attack: Damage:
"Curse my lack of faith," Armandia mutters. "A holier person could have felled that abomination at once."
She tries to circle around the zombie while drawing her sword.
Felmor advances towards the hideous beast, and does an upper/lower cut maneuver with his weapons, particularly effective against lowly sailors.
Hey Allen I attacked the zombie with a dagger not with my bow.
"Curse my lack of faith," Armandia mutters. "A holier person could have felled that abomination at once." she cautiously circles to the left of the monstrosity whilst slowly sliding her blade out of its sheath.
ROUND 3
Felmor takes a step foward and assails the creature with both his weapons. This is no ships deck though and Felmor's manauvers get caught up in the nearby tree branches and plants, thwarting his moves.
Mezari's steady aim proves true this time as another bolt launches through the air and plunges through the zombies rotting flesh before protruding from the other side. Again the creature does not seem to be slowed though as it launches itself at Grn'nak...
Adrenaline pumps through our half-orc hero's mind, as he lets out a fierce roar before bringing his greataxe in a downward swing onto the creatures shoulder. The blade slices through the zombie's flesh like butter and severs the arm completely. Grn'nak doesnt have time to celebrate though as the zombie darts foward the other arm raised threateningly...
Pure concentration etched onto his face Brit plunges his small dagger into the creatures belly, halting the creatures lunge in mid flight. He promptly pulls the blade to the side, tearing a hole in the creatures stomach and emptying its guts onto the floor. The zombie drops to the floor seemingly dead as the small rat abiding in its skull skutters off into the undergrowth.
Felmor resists the urge to vomit as the fetid stench of the undead corpse washes over him. He looks back at his companions with a look of disgust and mutters 'Gads, I hate this place!'
He turns to Brit and asks with a trace of bitter humor "So, get lot of undead traffic 'round here?"
Grn'nak gives the body a swift kick in the side, struggling to get his ire back under control. Stepping back from the scene, he walks a couple steps and grimaces in pain, reminding him of the injury inflicted in the short, but intense combat. Grn'nak takes out his waterskin and tries to wash out any dirt or gunk that may have been on those long dead hands.
"Gah, I hope we don't run into much more of those. The dead should have more sense than to go walking about."
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Brit cleans his dagger off on the grass by his feet. Wiping the sweat off his brow with his forearm, he replies to Felmor.
"I've never run across anything like this before out here. The occassional Goblin bandits, Kobolds, but nothing like this. This is a peversion of nature"
Brit starts sifting through the Kobold's remains looking for any clues as to how this might have befallen the humanoid.
Sifting through the kobolds sickly digusting remains Brit finds only the rags concealing what remains of the kobolds dignity and the wooden placard hanging from its neck. The rags are soiled and soggy, perhaps one of the most disgusting things you have ever touched. The wooden placard hangs with a frayed piece of string from the creatures neck. It has several symbols etched into it, a language you dont understand...
Grn'nak tries to wipe any remaining gore off his axe before replacing it in its strap.
"Hrrghn...wonder if he was the shaman, or just cursed by one?", while pointing to the discarded placard.
Felmor looks over at Grn'nak and replies "Hmmph, if that wus th'shaman, then we gots big problems here.
Continuing he says "Still ain't got no choice but to press on.
"Let me see about that leg."
"Hrrghn...wonder if he was the shaman, or just cursed by one?", while pointing to the discarded placard.
"Good question. Zombies could come from arcane OR divine means..."
"I'm sorry... what's all this about a shaman?"
"Eh? Oh, I guess whatever that thing was. Seems this might th' remains of whoever croosed th'witch, he he"
Felmor continues with a note of sarcasm [b]"'N we get ta ask er a favor. I don't see any problems wit' that, do ya?"
Armandia places her hands on Grn'nak's leg as shoots of bright white energy extend from her fingers. They seep into the wound and knit together most of damage though the wound is still painful to the touch and has left a nasty scar.
The little gnome keeps her distance, visibly disgusted by the scene - even if it is a miserable kobold, this was a fate she would wish on none. She frowns and nods slightly at Grn'nak's question but doesn't offer an answer, if for no other reason than she doesn't even have a beginning of where to guess.
I could hazard a guess that this may have something to do with the local plague, but without more information it's naught but theory.
She reloads her crossbow, not wanting to be delayed again if another threat should appear, then shakes her head slightly at Felmor. "Witches have many curses they may lay upon their enemies, so says legend and lore... from poor fortune to long sleep, shapeshifting to great terror; that said however I do not believe that creating the walking dead is among their talents."
Barzai, seeing the battle has come to a halt for now, returns to his place on Mezari's shoulder.
Felmor says Yeah lets get movin'."
"Thanks milady. In regards to the shaman, that's what the sign about the buggers neck says. It's a mystery as to exactly what it may mean."
Grn'nak nods to Brit. "Lead on. The sooner we leave this god forsaken area, the better.
Mezari simply nods her agreement and follows.