JollyDoc's Savage Tide-Updated 10/8!
Richard Rawen
First Post
JollyDoc said:
As it should be, any player that sits at my table knows that the monsters are not there for there entertainment...
Some of the monsters figure the PC's are their entertainment, but that's different =-)
Finally had a bit to dive into this one, been having a lot of fun rooting for the ... not-so-bad-guys?
not-as-bad-as-the-other-guys?
Legion!
Tony Vargas
Legend
Heh. Does the Legion even have someone with sneak attack? I personally think that a lot of the insane grapplebeasts in the MM are pegged at the CR they have with the -20 in mind. But, with a typical party composition, the frontliner getting grappled without the -20 still isn't a disaster - it sucks for the guy grabbed, but the monster can get beaten down pretty quick between it's inability to attack the rest of the party, and it's vulnerability to sneak attacks.JollyDoc said:
Of course, grappling undead/plants/constructs are another matter...
![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
JollyDoc
Explorer
LOST
As the sun rose over Journey’s End, the mists burned away and the sargasso’s restless children returned to their mother. The Legionnaires continued their trek across the seemingly endless mire for several more hours, until at last they saw a change in the landscape. Some distance ahead, tall shapes stretched towards the sky in twisted caricatures of trees. As they drew closer, they saw that these were actually massive stalks of kelp, which formed a small forest at what they assumed was the heart of the sargasso. Each of them began hearing a woman’s voice whispering in their heads, not uttering words, but calling to them just the same. Just before they stepped into the kelp grove, Anwar happened to glance behind him where, to his horror, it seemed as if the entire plain was coming to life, birthing a veritable army of the vine creatures.
Once inside, all sound was muffled, even their own breathing. The kelp brushed against them, wet and oozing. Before long, the forest opened into a small clearing. There lay one final wreck; this one so buried in the weed, that its deck stood a mere five-feet above the mat of vegetation. A plaque on the side of the caravel proclaimed it the Thunderer.
The members of the Legion had learned hard lessons from their encounter with the sargasso’s children the previous night. Anwar, Marius and Basil were each imbued with flight magic, and took to the air, positioning themselves some twenty-five feet above the ship’s deck. Sepoto and Samson remained at the edge of the clearing while Thrisp cloaked himself in invisibility and silence, and cautiously crept aboard the vessel. The skeletal remains of the original crew slumped about the ruined deck, their soggy bones mingled with broken chests, weapons and rigging. Nothing responded to the beguiler’s presence, and so he gave the prearranged signal, the disembodied sound of a harp, to indicate that it was safe for the crusader and the dragon shaman to join him.
Once more signaling his companions to wait, the little gnome made his way stealthily down the main stairs to the crew’s quarters below. The wreckage and destruction there was just as complete as the deck above, save that almost every surface was covered in the omnipresent weed. Sepoto and Samson followed the gnome down after he gave the all-clear again. However, no sooner had the pair stepped off the gangway, than the plants on the walls began to shiver and flail, soon coalescing into a trio of vine horrors. Before the surprised warriors could react, the creatures had already begun to animate the vines around them. This time, however, the goliath and the goblin were not caught napping. Sepoto immediately went on the offensive, slashing at the nearest clump of reaching weeds.
Still hovering above the main deck, Anwar, Basil and Marius peered down the open hatch into the crew quarters below. There they saw the animate plants attacking their comrades. Anwar immediately raised his voice in song, spurring on his companions. Marius took a more direct approach, lobbing a flaming orb of fire down the hatch. The vine Sepoto struggled against suddenly went up in cloying smoke and ash.
Below, Samson unleashed his draconic breath on the nearest of the shambling vine horrors, as well as engulfing another patch of the strangling weed. To his dismay, however, the creature awakened a new clump just beneath the one destroyed by Marius. Simultaneously, the other pair of horrors moved in, flanking the little goblin. One of them raised one weed-covered arm and hammered at Samson, wrenching his shoulder painfully. Fortunately, Sepoto was only a step away. Moving closer to his friend, he brought his chain to bear with wicked efficiency, ripping great clots of vegetation from the nearest monster. Samson, too, hacked at the thing, until finally it collapsed. Whirling, the dragon shaman struck the second beast just as Marius and Basil levied a combined aerial bombardment of fire and arcane energy. The vine horror crumpled. Only one remained, and with both Sepoto and Samson arrayed against it, it soon returned to its vegetative state.
The remainder of the crew deck was deserted, and Thrisp had no choice but to descend to the hold. At this point, Anwar, Basil and Marius were forced to descend as well, for they would not be able maintain visual contact with their companions. Basil and Marius joined Thrisp, both rendering themselves invisible like the beguiler, as they descended into the darkness below. The first thing the trio noted when they reached the hold, was that a huge section of the hull had rotted away near the stern, leaving a stinking pit with walls of writhing, green and brown vegetation. The walls moved with horrible, half-formed life, semi-human shapes twisting and spasming from thick, tumescent stalks like anthropomorphic fruit ready for harvest. The pit dropped away into a noisome, unseen depth, certainly far deeper than sea level, into an unknowable hell below. Thrisp and Marius were horrified by what they were seeing, but Basil was able to tear his eyes away long enough to see that they were not alone. Three more of the vine horrors hid within the weed shrouded walls, but for the moment, they had not seemed to notice the arcanists. Basil quickly warned his companions, his words not traveling beyond Thrisp’s Zone of Silence to betray their presence. Quietly, the three retreated back up the stairs to warn the others.
“I think we’ve found what we’re looking for,” Thrisp said. “If this is not the heart of the sargasso, the dark mother, then I don’t know what is.”
“What’s our plan, then?” Samson asked.
“As easily as you dealt with your first three opponents,” Anwar said, “I have no doubt of your ability to handle this challenge. I shall await you here, but should you need me, just call out.”
Sepoto’s expression was sour. He knew that would be a wasted effort.
“I will go back down,” Thrisp said, still unseen. “Marius will be with me, but Samson and Sepoto will go ahead of us. Then, while the vine horrors are occupied with them, we will wait for whatever rises from that pit.”
Once again, Thrisp descended into the stinking hold, Marius at his side, while the goblin and goliath strode boldly ahead, heedless of the noise they made. As expected, the three plant creatures erupted from their concealment, but Samson was prepared. His mouth yawned as his hot, acidic breath bathed the nearest pair. Working in perfectly timed precision, Sepoto hammered at one of the same duo, while Marius simultaneously released a sheet of flames from his fingertips. Just like that, the first of the vine horrors went down. The second one was still reeling from the barrage, when Samson took after it with his morningstar. By this time, the last of the horrors had extricated itself from the wall, and at its mental command, the weeds around the heroes came alive. Suddenly, a horrible noise filled the hold, a cacophony of wailing like the cries of a hundred starving babes. Then, the shadows within the great maw began to coalesce into something truly monstrous and horrid. It appeared as a dislocated sack of foul smelling vegetation, wreathed in screaming, humanoid forms that struggled to free themselves from its putrid flesh. A vast, distended belly bathed in viscous, green mucus hung from the vaguely humanoid form. The infantile cries echoed from the hideous passengers that slowly pulled themselves from their mother. Twenty feet tall, the grotesque hybrid of woman and plant was a nightmare of mucoid arms and clustered eyes. It was a deviant thing of rot, a pyramidical bulk that rose to a head of eyes and barbed, thorny teeth. The Mother of All had awakened.
“Not so fast,” Thrisp hissed as the behemoth loomed over Sepoto. Arcane words formed on the beguiler’s lips, and to his immense relief, he saw the plant woman’s movements suddenly become sluggish and slow.
“She’s all yours!” he cried to the goliath.
“And yours, Marius!” Basil shouted from behind the gnome, as he completed his own spell. “I’ve made her vulnerable to fire! Unleash Hell!!”
Sepoto rushed forward, closing the distance between himself and the Mother. Marius began the words to his spell, prepared to loose a veritable firestorm, but the dreadful wailing of the fetal vine horrors pierced his skull like a nail, and he found himself stumbling over his phrases. In a matter of moments, his incantation was ruined.
Meanwhile, Samson kept his attention on the opponent at hand. He knew that the best way for him to help Sepoto was to keep the mature vine horrors off the goliath’s flank. Striking again and again at the wounded thing before him, he was relieved to see it collapse in a filthy heap.
The sargasso Mother howled her fury, and she began to lumber forward from her pit. In an instant, Thrisp cast again, this time using his magic to literally root the monster’s legs to the floor. It was only temporary, but it gave Sepoto a moment’s breathing room. But only a moment, as the towering creature swung one of her massive arms like a tree trunk, battering the crusader mercilessly. Basil cursed from the stairs as he saw Marius shaking his head, trying to drown out the incessant mewling.
“Never send a goblin to do a tiefling’s job,” he muttered, then hurled his own magic, causing a ball of fire to erupt behind the Mother, engulfing her flank. She shrieked, but directed her fury at Sepoto, hammering him a second time. Sepoto went to one knee. She raised her arm high above him, but two explosions ignited around her head, Marius’ magic joining Basil’s. In an instant, the Mother began to collapse in on herself, a writhing mass of rotting vegetation, howling and shrieking until finally, she lay still. A moment later, the remaining vine horror facing Samson similarly imploded. On the deck above, Anwar saw the kelp forest come crashing down, and the sea of vine horrors beyond it melt into sludge. The entire sargasso shuddered. Back in the hold, the maw began filling with sea water, slowly eroding on itself.
Thrisp knew with a certainty what was going to happen next. The sargasso would unravel, losing its cohesion without the hive mind to maintain it. While this was the goal they’d hoped to accomplish, they had forgotten one very important detail: they were in the middle of the ocean! Quickly the party hurried to the main deck, only to see the once-solid mass of seaweed beginning to fill with pools of sea water. The Sea Wyvern was miles away. Even if all of the Legionnaires were imbued with the power of flight, the spell would not last long enough to get them back. Even as this realization sank in, the Thunderer began to fall apart. In a matter of minutes, each of the heroes found themselves clinging to the debris, bobbing helplessly in the open sea as the sargasso continued to recede. Only Anwar remained dry, still hovering above them all.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “Quite the dilemma, eh?”
“What are you laughing at, you fop?” Sepoto growled. “You’ll be down here with us soon.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” the bard replied, cheerfully. “And there’s no place that I’d rather be!” With that, he slid his arms into a pair of sleeves sewn inside his cloak. As he did so, he dove towards the water, his body twisting and morphing as he struck the surface. When he reappeared, it was not Anwar the half-elven that his companions saw, but a full-grown manta ray!
“You see?” the manta said, speaking in a watery version of Anwar’s voice. “Always be prepared! Now, you sad sacks stay put, and don’t wander. Uncle Anwar will be back before you can say tuna!” With that, the ray disappeared beneath the waves again.
Four hours later, the beleaguered adventurers saw the sail appear on the horizon. As it drew nearer, the familiar shape of a wyvern on its prow brought a shout of joy from all of them. The Sea Wyvern had found them, and Anwar stood upon the bow.
“I’m the King of the World!” he shouted.
________________________________________________________
Interlude:
With the exhaustion from the day, every member of the Legion slept fitfully that night. All save one. Thrisp spent most of the night, staring at the ceiling of the cabin that he and Anwar shared. The young gnome spent the majority of the night musing on his last conversation with Lucius before leaving Tashluta.
“Thrisp, you are fast approaching a fork in the road. The path that you choose will forever determine the progression of your magical skills. Down one path, the one taken by those not willing to totally give themselves to the Lady of Loss, you will still know great arcane power. It is down the other path, the one taken only by those beloved of Shar, where you will truly learn the power of Her Shadow Weave. You don’t need to tell me now which path you are going to choose right at this moment…truly our Mistress already knows the answer to that question. But you must know this, Shar expects some form of payment for this great boon that she would extend to you.”
When Thrisp inquired as to the type of payment, he already knew the answer before Lucius spoke. With a smile promising malice, the Sharran cleric said the words the gnome had anticipated: “Sacrifice. Shar demands payment in blood. And not from something as pedestrian as some peasant you see on the side of the road. Someone more…consequential…than that.” To this point, Lucius had made sure to keep the gnome’s hands clean of any unnecessary blood, all to keep his seat on the Dawn Council safe from scrutiny. This most definitely was a change in policy, but Thrisp was already experienced with the power associated with the Shadow Weave…Thrisp’s soul seemed to be a small price to pay for access to its deepest secrets.
By midnight, Shar’s witching hour, Thrisp’s decision had been made. He rolled over, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
________________________________________________________________
As the sun dawned on the Sea Wyvern’s fifth day of freedom from Journey’s End, the day was overcast and grim. Yet despite that, the mood aboard the caravel was positively festive, for Thrisp had spotted land! The ragged, jungle-choked peaks of the Isle of Dread loomed on the horizon off the starboard bow. Though still miles away, just the sight of it brought a cheer from the crew and passengers. They had reached their goal. All that remained was to sail down its eastern coast to Farshore.
Alas, as the day wore on, it became increasingly obvious that the weather gods plotted against them, and by mid-afternoon, another storm raged in full force. This one was much more powerful, however, than the first the expedition had encountered, bordering on a hurricane. Four hours passed as the storm raged, and Amella fought madly to keep the ship on course. Samson and Sepoto remained on deck with the crew, lending their strength to the battle against the sea. The other passengers and Legionnaires secured themselves below deck. Just after sunset, however, a tremendous lurch struck the Sea Wyvern, and the sound of splintering wood filled the air. The ship came to a sudden stop, sending all aboard sprawling to the deck, and several unfortunate sailors in the rigging plunging into the sea below. The caravel listed perilously to port, and waves crashed relentlessly against it. It was obvious that the Sea Wyvern had run aground.
Sepoto rushed down the tilted deck to the bow rail, and peered over the side. He could see that what they had struck was a large reef. The ship was about half-way over it. Samson opened the hatch to the gangway below decks, and called down for a damage report. Basil rushed up the stairs, shouting that they were taking on water. Suddenly, the sea below Sepoto exploded upward as a large creature breeched. It appeared to be some sort of worm-like fish, easily thirty feet from tip to tail. Its face was a terrible circular maw of grinding teeth, with two beady eyes peering out from the crown of its head. Large spines rose from its sinuous back, shuddering and rattling with menace.
“It’s a masher!” Amella called from the quarterdeck, where she wrestled with the wheel, struggling to rock the boat free. “It’ll wreck us fer sure!”
“Not if I can help it,” Sepoto growled. But even as he spoke, the masher struck, raking his chest with its spike-like teeth. The goliath reeled back, but counterattacked as he fell. In an instant, Samson was beside him, adding his acid breath to the crusader’s brute strength. Sepoto was still struggling to regain his footing on the canted deck when magic exploded all about the creature. A vivid spray of colored light spilled from the porthole beneath the foc’s’le where Thrisp had holed up for the storm, causing the masher to loll drunkenly to one side. Then, twin Fireballs exploded as Marius joined Basil on deck. Its head a smoking ruin, the monster fish collapsed back into the sea.
At that moment, Amella wrenched the wheel hard to starboard, and the Sea Wyvern slipped free from the reef. Immediately, the storm snatched the damaged ship again, turning it directly into an oncoming swell. A powerful rush of surf washed across the deck, sweeping over all those in its wake. Sepoto, still standing atop the foc’s’le, lost his footing and was swept from his feet. As he slid across the deck, he grabbed desperately for the railing, but the violent motion of the vessel ripped his fingers free, and he was carried overboard into the dark, roiling water. No one witnessed the goliath’s plight, struggling as they were to keep themselves on deck. The storm continued, and caught by its fury, the Sea Wyvern was driven inexorably towards the north shore of the island. The primeval vista loomed before them, periodically lit by flashes of lightning. Suddenly, the ship lurched again, throwing everyone to the deck. It tilted crazily to one side, lurched again, and then rolled completely. The cold, dark sea rushed up to meet them, and in a cacophonous roar of wave and ruin, all went dark…
Darkness. Pain. Cold. Thrisp was acutely aware of all three sensations as he clawed his way through the rough brine. Almost fortuitously, Thrisp felt his hand find purchase on something hard. Sharp, yes, but something solid. A reef or rock of some sort. The gnome was still deep underwater, but before the boat had grounded itself he had the wherewithal to don one of his alchemical breathing masks that he had purchased before leaving Tashluta. Holding on for dear life with one hand, Thrisp quickly spoke the words to one of his spells. Using his magic, he quickly clambered up the reef like a spider until he emerged at the surface. Once there, all Thrisp could hear was the storm, the crashing waves…and a woman’s frantic calls for help!
Not twenty feet away, Thrisp saw Lirith Veldirose clinging to the same reef with all of her strength, screaming out in pain and desperation. Even from this distance, it was apparent that the stiff currents has smashed the woman into the reef and broken her leg. There was no way that she was going to make it to shore in that condition without his help.
“Thank Selune’s grace! Thrisp, help me! I’m hurt badly and I am afraid if I move from this spot I’ll drown.” Quickly, Thrisp crawled along the side of the reef to Lirith’s side, thanks to his spider climb.
This is it.
Thrisp yelled over the crashing surf. “I am not strong enough to carry you! I do have an idea, though! I have one remaining fly spell available to me. I can give it to you, and regardless of your condition you will be able to make it to shore. I am light enough that you should be able to carry me, too.”
Good story. You can’t even cast ‘fly’.
Lirith nodded, a look of hope in her eyes. “That would be great! I always did like you, Thrisp.”
And I always liked you, too, Lirith. This would be so much easier to stomach if it were personal. I guess this makes it twice on this journey that you have chosen your men poorly.
“Now hold still, and don’t resist my magic.” Lirith nodded again.
Goodbye, Lirith.
Thrisp began casting his spell. When he had completed the last word, the gnome feigned an attempt to touch Lirith, but at the last second turned his hand and pointed at the rogue. Instead of taking to the air, Lirith found all of her muscles and joints freeze into place. Even her breathing, before fast and labored, became slow and reflexive. Thrisp knew that if Lirith were capable of changing her facial expression, it would be one of horror.
Methodically, the gnome removed the rigid woman from the reef. Pressing on her forehead with his small hand, Thrisp held Lirith underwater until her tight muscles relaxed…when her brain died, he knew that his hold person effect would end. Thrisp released the corpse, and it floated away from the reef.
Simultaneously Thrisp was overcome with two emotions, the first of which was joy in knowing that he had done Shar’s will and would be granted new power as Her servant. The second emotion was that of grief…grief over the monster that he had become.
_________________________________________________________
Dawn. The air was still, and cloyingly hot and humid. Damp sand clung to every available surface. Sepoto pulled himself slowly back to consciousness, surveying his surroundings in confusion. The last thing he remembered was the sea pulling him under, then nothing. Now, as he gazed around blearily, he found himself on a desolate stretch of beach, with a wall of jungle looming less than a hundred feet away. Wreckage and debris was scattered across the sand, along with several bodies. Some of these were moving, and the goliath was immediately relieved to see all of his comrades among the living. Amella had survived as well, as had Urol and Tavey Nesk…but that was all. The others, the entire crew, Lirith, even Avner’s servants…all were dead.
Gradually, the survivors regained their senses and drifted together, their expressions a mixture of fear, confusion, anxiety and wonder. It was Anwar, of course, who spoke first: “So, does anyone know exactly where we are?”
Urol, who had been the only one of their small band to actually show any signs of enthusiasm at their situation, quickly piped up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say we’re somewhere on the northeast shore of the island. Probably about a hundred miles or more from Tanaroa, the nearest Maztican village.”
“Fantastic,” Marius said, sarcastically. “Fine bit of piloting there, Captain.”
Amella had been silent since she’d regained consciousness, her face a mask of misery. Ordinarily, a jibe such as the one the Seeker had just made would draw her full wrath. Instead, she covered her face and turned away. Anwar scowled at the mage, and put an arm around the woman’s shoulders in comfort.
“We wouldn’t even be alive, if not for Amella,” he said. “We would all do well to remember that.”
Marius looked at him skeptically, wondering what angle the bard was playing this time. Urol, meanwhile, had picked up a stick, and was busy sketching a rough map of the island in the sand. When he’d finished, he stood and pointed. “You see. We’re right here. I believe if we head…” His words were abruptly cut off by an earsplitting roar that tore through the heavy, morning air. Lumbering out of the jungle was a towering, reptilian predator, with an enormous head and a mouth full of dagger-sized teeth. It stood on two powerful legs, and had only vestigial forelimbs. With another deafening roar, it started towards them.
“Tyrannosaur!” Urol shrieked, and darted towards the wreckage behind them, seeking what meager shelter there was.
“Follow him!” Sepoto commanded Amella and Tavey, as he moved towards the charging lizard.
“But you’re hurt!” Tavey protested. A sharp look from the goliath convinced him, however, but no before he plucked a healing draught from his gear and laid it in the sand near Sepoto. The thundering beast came on, but as it did, Marius dropped a Fireball right in its path. The monster never slowed. To Sepoto’s astonishment, and horror, Samson had gotten in front of him while he was distracted by Tavey. The goblin dragon shaman spewed his breath at the Tyrannosaur, but he might as well have been spitting into a cyclone. The creature snapped him up in its great jaws, and blood gushed from Samson’s mouth.
“Help him!” Sepoto shouted, and then began chanting a prayer over his chain. As he did so, Basil opened fire, sending two rays of flame from his hands towards the dinosaur. The lizard roared, but did not release its prey. A second Fireball from Marius blistered its hide more, but the relentless hunter refused to fall. Even when Sepoto struck, his spell causing his weapon to tear even deeper than normal into the Tyrannosaur’s flesh, the great reptile refused to drop Samson.
“On my word!” Anwar shouted to the dragon shaman, and then the bard began casting in a sing-song chant. As he finished, a layer of oily grease completely coated the goblin’s armor. “Now!” Anwar called. Samson, though in agony, began wriggling and twisting, struggling to free himself. It was no use. The dinosaur threw back its head, and with an audible gulp, swallowed the goblin whole.
“Bastard!” Basil cried, and loosed a second pair of scorching rays. Thrisp joined him, adding a scintillating spray of colors to the mix. The T-rex stumbled, and Sepoto was on it, slashing and tearing with his chain like a creature possessed. Even Anwar joined in the melee, knocking his bow and firing a lucky shot into the creature’s flank. Still, it was Marius, copying Basil’s tactic, who brought the beast down, burning both its eyes from its skull with his fire. As the animal collapsed to the sand, its jaws went slack, and a moment later a gore-covered Samson crawled to freedom.
____________________________________________________________
In the aftermath of the T-rex attack, Anwar assigned Amella and Tavey the task of salvaging anything they could from the wreckage on the beach, in order to distract them from their dilemma. Urol continued his map work, plotting their course to the southern peninsula. Meanwhile, Anwar and Samson swam out to the shattered Sea Wyvern to see what could be recovered. By the time they returned, Urol called for everyone to gather round while he explained his plan.
“I propose to take us through these small mountains to the south,” he said, indicating the route on the map. “Then we’ll travel along the bay toward Tanaroa. This excursion, while scenic, will be quick and safe. I estimate we can make the peninsula in no more than ten days, barring no unforeseen circumstances.”
“What about provisions?” Anwar asked. “Samson and I found some salvageable foodstuffs aboard the ship, as well as several healing potions.”
“And we found food as well!” Tavey piped up, grinning at Sepoto. The goliath gave him an affectionate pat on the back.
“Yes, well,” Urol said thoughtfully, “my best guess would be that each of you big folk will need about ten pounds of food for the trip. I and my diminutive kinsman will require only three pounds, while the boy could get by on five.”
“We have that and more,” Amella said, looking over the supplies they’d scavenged.
“With my skills as a naturalist,” Urol continued, “we could actually get by on about half that amount. There’s plenty to eat from the local flora and fauna.”
“The food we have will suffice,” Anwar replied.
Urol shrugged. “In any event, it’s getting towards dusk now, and I don’t advise we begin our travels by night. We could all use a good night’s rest, and start fresh in the morning.”
Anwar looked at Basil. “I believe you were researching a new spell that might aid us in this. Have you had any success?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the wizard nodded. “Though it will only last about eight hours. We’ll have to keep our usual watches until late this evening.”
The group made camp on the beach, near the waterline, well back from the jungle canopy. Thrisp immediately rolled himself into his blankets near the fire, determined to get as much sleep as he could. Anwar moved to sit near Amella, who still looked forlorn and empty.
“What I said was true, earlier,” he said. “We couldn’t have survived without you. This is not your fault.”
“Aye,” she said flatly. “Try tellin’ th’crew that.” She looked towards the mounds in the sand where they had buried their dead.
“Look” Anwar said, turning her chin until her eyes met his, “you were our leader for these past three months. The passengers and crew looked to you for guidance. My companions and I are seasoned adventurers, but Tavey and Urol are not. We may well find other survivors on our trek. After all, there was no sign of Avner’s body on the beach. They need you to be strong. You’ve survived much tragedy in your life. You will bridge through this to the other side. I have faith in you.”
The sea captain held his gaze for a moment, finally allowing herself a small smile as she looked away.
“Ye’re a charmer,” she said, “but we’ll see….we’ll see.”
Anwar was about to say more, but a frightened cry from Urol, followed by a curse from Sepoto brought him to his feet in an instant. “What is it?” he shouted.
“In the tree line,” the goliath pointed. “We’ve got incoming.”
The bard looked where Sepoto indicated, and saw four large creatures creeping from the shadows of the trees. They appeared to be some species of flightless bird, though their cruelly hooked beaks and wickedly sharp talons marked them as predators.
“They’re terror birds!” Urol nearly shrieked. “They’ve been drawn by the scent of the tyrannosaur carcass. Curse me for a fool for not thinking about that! We should have removed it!”
“Too late now,” Sepoto muttered, bracing himself as the birds surged towards them.
They were fast, and were among the survivors before they could react. The foremost snapped at Sepoto, tearing a chunk out of the goliath’s arm. A second one darted towards Samson, seizing the goblin in its beak, and lifting him off the ground. The third one looped around Sepoto’s flank and snagged Tavey as the boy hid behind the goliath. He screamed as blood spurted from his leg an the terror bird dragged him across the sand.
“Tavey!” Amella shouted, instantly in motion, drawing her rapier as she ran. When she reached the animal, she plunged her blade through one of its eyes. Samson, his arms pinned to his side, did the only thing he could. He spat acid right in the face of the bird that held him. Abruptly, twin explosions of fire erupted behind the birds, incinerating both the one that held Samson, and the one that had tried to make a meal of Sepoto.
“Amella, get back!” Anwar cried, shoving the sailor behind him. He held his own rapier tentatively in his hand, though his eyes were on Sepoto. The goliath caught his look, rolled his eyes, and then charged forward. As the terror bird dragged Tavey further away, the crusader closed the distance to it. The bird shrieked at him, warning him away, but Sepoto was not so easily deterred. He leaped, wrapping his chain around the terror bird’s neck, chanting a prayer as he did so. The barbs from his weapon scythed through flesh and sinew, ripping the animal’s head from its body. As its body continued to run about for a few seconds more, the goliath grabbed up Tavey and retreated back towards the fire. The boy sobbed uncontrollably against his shoulder.
The final bird hissed menacingly at the group as it backed slowly up the beach, knowing it wound not have its intended meal this night. As it bent to take a bite from the dead t-rex, Marius invoked his magic. Both the bird and the dinosaur corpse exploded in flames.
“Why don’t you have your meal well-done?” the warmage said humorlessly.
When Sepoto reached to others, he carefully laid Tavey on the sand.
“Here, let me tend him,” Anwar said, shouldering past the goliath. The bard pulled a wand from his belt and began healing the lad’s wounds. On the opposite side of the fire, Amella smiled warmly. Sepoto watched it all, disgusted with the bard’s false bravado. Sepoto was a priest, more than capable of tending to Tavey, but he could see that Anwar’s motives were much less benevolent. Lavinia was missing, and if she was alive and safe at Farshore, she was still miles away. It seemed that Anwar practiced the motto of “a bird in hand…”
As the sun rose over Journey’s End, the mists burned away and the sargasso’s restless children returned to their mother. The Legionnaires continued their trek across the seemingly endless mire for several more hours, until at last they saw a change in the landscape. Some distance ahead, tall shapes stretched towards the sky in twisted caricatures of trees. As they drew closer, they saw that these were actually massive stalks of kelp, which formed a small forest at what they assumed was the heart of the sargasso. Each of them began hearing a woman’s voice whispering in their heads, not uttering words, but calling to them just the same. Just before they stepped into the kelp grove, Anwar happened to glance behind him where, to his horror, it seemed as if the entire plain was coming to life, birthing a veritable army of the vine creatures.
Once inside, all sound was muffled, even their own breathing. The kelp brushed against them, wet and oozing. Before long, the forest opened into a small clearing. There lay one final wreck; this one so buried in the weed, that its deck stood a mere five-feet above the mat of vegetation. A plaque on the side of the caravel proclaimed it the Thunderer.
The members of the Legion had learned hard lessons from their encounter with the sargasso’s children the previous night. Anwar, Marius and Basil were each imbued with flight magic, and took to the air, positioning themselves some twenty-five feet above the ship’s deck. Sepoto and Samson remained at the edge of the clearing while Thrisp cloaked himself in invisibility and silence, and cautiously crept aboard the vessel. The skeletal remains of the original crew slumped about the ruined deck, their soggy bones mingled with broken chests, weapons and rigging. Nothing responded to the beguiler’s presence, and so he gave the prearranged signal, the disembodied sound of a harp, to indicate that it was safe for the crusader and the dragon shaman to join him.
Once more signaling his companions to wait, the little gnome made his way stealthily down the main stairs to the crew’s quarters below. The wreckage and destruction there was just as complete as the deck above, save that almost every surface was covered in the omnipresent weed. Sepoto and Samson followed the gnome down after he gave the all-clear again. However, no sooner had the pair stepped off the gangway, than the plants on the walls began to shiver and flail, soon coalescing into a trio of vine horrors. Before the surprised warriors could react, the creatures had already begun to animate the vines around them. This time, however, the goliath and the goblin were not caught napping. Sepoto immediately went on the offensive, slashing at the nearest clump of reaching weeds.
Still hovering above the main deck, Anwar, Basil and Marius peered down the open hatch into the crew quarters below. There they saw the animate plants attacking their comrades. Anwar immediately raised his voice in song, spurring on his companions. Marius took a more direct approach, lobbing a flaming orb of fire down the hatch. The vine Sepoto struggled against suddenly went up in cloying smoke and ash.
Below, Samson unleashed his draconic breath on the nearest of the shambling vine horrors, as well as engulfing another patch of the strangling weed. To his dismay, however, the creature awakened a new clump just beneath the one destroyed by Marius. Simultaneously, the other pair of horrors moved in, flanking the little goblin. One of them raised one weed-covered arm and hammered at Samson, wrenching his shoulder painfully. Fortunately, Sepoto was only a step away. Moving closer to his friend, he brought his chain to bear with wicked efficiency, ripping great clots of vegetation from the nearest monster. Samson, too, hacked at the thing, until finally it collapsed. Whirling, the dragon shaman struck the second beast just as Marius and Basil levied a combined aerial bombardment of fire and arcane energy. The vine horror crumpled. Only one remained, and with both Sepoto and Samson arrayed against it, it soon returned to its vegetative state.
The remainder of the crew deck was deserted, and Thrisp had no choice but to descend to the hold. At this point, Anwar, Basil and Marius were forced to descend as well, for they would not be able maintain visual contact with their companions. Basil and Marius joined Thrisp, both rendering themselves invisible like the beguiler, as they descended into the darkness below. The first thing the trio noted when they reached the hold, was that a huge section of the hull had rotted away near the stern, leaving a stinking pit with walls of writhing, green and brown vegetation. The walls moved with horrible, half-formed life, semi-human shapes twisting and spasming from thick, tumescent stalks like anthropomorphic fruit ready for harvest. The pit dropped away into a noisome, unseen depth, certainly far deeper than sea level, into an unknowable hell below. Thrisp and Marius were horrified by what they were seeing, but Basil was able to tear his eyes away long enough to see that they were not alone. Three more of the vine horrors hid within the weed shrouded walls, but for the moment, they had not seemed to notice the arcanists. Basil quickly warned his companions, his words not traveling beyond Thrisp’s Zone of Silence to betray their presence. Quietly, the three retreated back up the stairs to warn the others.
“I think we’ve found what we’re looking for,” Thrisp said. “If this is not the heart of the sargasso, the dark mother, then I don’t know what is.”
“What’s our plan, then?” Samson asked.
“As easily as you dealt with your first three opponents,” Anwar said, “I have no doubt of your ability to handle this challenge. I shall await you here, but should you need me, just call out.”
Sepoto’s expression was sour. He knew that would be a wasted effort.
“I will go back down,” Thrisp said, still unseen. “Marius will be with me, but Samson and Sepoto will go ahead of us. Then, while the vine horrors are occupied with them, we will wait for whatever rises from that pit.”
Once again, Thrisp descended into the stinking hold, Marius at his side, while the goblin and goliath strode boldly ahead, heedless of the noise they made. As expected, the three plant creatures erupted from their concealment, but Samson was prepared. His mouth yawned as his hot, acidic breath bathed the nearest pair. Working in perfectly timed precision, Sepoto hammered at one of the same duo, while Marius simultaneously released a sheet of flames from his fingertips. Just like that, the first of the vine horrors went down. The second one was still reeling from the barrage, when Samson took after it with his morningstar. By this time, the last of the horrors had extricated itself from the wall, and at its mental command, the weeds around the heroes came alive. Suddenly, a horrible noise filled the hold, a cacophony of wailing like the cries of a hundred starving babes. Then, the shadows within the great maw began to coalesce into something truly monstrous and horrid. It appeared as a dislocated sack of foul smelling vegetation, wreathed in screaming, humanoid forms that struggled to free themselves from its putrid flesh. A vast, distended belly bathed in viscous, green mucus hung from the vaguely humanoid form. The infantile cries echoed from the hideous passengers that slowly pulled themselves from their mother. Twenty feet tall, the grotesque hybrid of woman and plant was a nightmare of mucoid arms and clustered eyes. It was a deviant thing of rot, a pyramidical bulk that rose to a head of eyes and barbed, thorny teeth. The Mother of All had awakened.
“Not so fast,” Thrisp hissed as the behemoth loomed over Sepoto. Arcane words formed on the beguiler’s lips, and to his immense relief, he saw the plant woman’s movements suddenly become sluggish and slow.
“She’s all yours!” he cried to the goliath.
“And yours, Marius!” Basil shouted from behind the gnome, as he completed his own spell. “I’ve made her vulnerable to fire! Unleash Hell!!”
Sepoto rushed forward, closing the distance between himself and the Mother. Marius began the words to his spell, prepared to loose a veritable firestorm, but the dreadful wailing of the fetal vine horrors pierced his skull like a nail, and he found himself stumbling over his phrases. In a matter of moments, his incantation was ruined.
Meanwhile, Samson kept his attention on the opponent at hand. He knew that the best way for him to help Sepoto was to keep the mature vine horrors off the goliath’s flank. Striking again and again at the wounded thing before him, he was relieved to see it collapse in a filthy heap.
The sargasso Mother howled her fury, and she began to lumber forward from her pit. In an instant, Thrisp cast again, this time using his magic to literally root the monster’s legs to the floor. It was only temporary, but it gave Sepoto a moment’s breathing room. But only a moment, as the towering creature swung one of her massive arms like a tree trunk, battering the crusader mercilessly. Basil cursed from the stairs as he saw Marius shaking his head, trying to drown out the incessant mewling.
“Never send a goblin to do a tiefling’s job,” he muttered, then hurled his own magic, causing a ball of fire to erupt behind the Mother, engulfing her flank. She shrieked, but directed her fury at Sepoto, hammering him a second time. Sepoto went to one knee. She raised her arm high above him, but two explosions ignited around her head, Marius’ magic joining Basil’s. In an instant, the Mother began to collapse in on herself, a writhing mass of rotting vegetation, howling and shrieking until finally, she lay still. A moment later, the remaining vine horror facing Samson similarly imploded. On the deck above, Anwar saw the kelp forest come crashing down, and the sea of vine horrors beyond it melt into sludge. The entire sargasso shuddered. Back in the hold, the maw began filling with sea water, slowly eroding on itself.
Thrisp knew with a certainty what was going to happen next. The sargasso would unravel, losing its cohesion without the hive mind to maintain it. While this was the goal they’d hoped to accomplish, they had forgotten one very important detail: they were in the middle of the ocean! Quickly the party hurried to the main deck, only to see the once-solid mass of seaweed beginning to fill with pools of sea water. The Sea Wyvern was miles away. Even if all of the Legionnaires were imbued with the power of flight, the spell would not last long enough to get them back. Even as this realization sank in, the Thunderer began to fall apart. In a matter of minutes, each of the heroes found themselves clinging to the debris, bobbing helplessly in the open sea as the sargasso continued to recede. Only Anwar remained dry, still hovering above them all.
“Tsk, tsk,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “Quite the dilemma, eh?”
“What are you laughing at, you fop?” Sepoto growled. “You’ll be down here with us soon.”
“Oh, you’re absolutely right!” the bard replied, cheerfully. “And there’s no place that I’d rather be!” With that, he slid his arms into a pair of sleeves sewn inside his cloak. As he did so, he dove towards the water, his body twisting and morphing as he struck the surface. When he reappeared, it was not Anwar the half-elven that his companions saw, but a full-grown manta ray!
“You see?” the manta said, speaking in a watery version of Anwar’s voice. “Always be prepared! Now, you sad sacks stay put, and don’t wander. Uncle Anwar will be back before you can say tuna!” With that, the ray disappeared beneath the waves again.
Four hours later, the beleaguered adventurers saw the sail appear on the horizon. As it drew nearer, the familiar shape of a wyvern on its prow brought a shout of joy from all of them. The Sea Wyvern had found them, and Anwar stood upon the bow.
“I’m the King of the World!” he shouted.
________________________________________________________
Interlude:
With the exhaustion from the day, every member of the Legion slept fitfully that night. All save one. Thrisp spent most of the night, staring at the ceiling of the cabin that he and Anwar shared. The young gnome spent the majority of the night musing on his last conversation with Lucius before leaving Tashluta.
“Thrisp, you are fast approaching a fork in the road. The path that you choose will forever determine the progression of your magical skills. Down one path, the one taken by those not willing to totally give themselves to the Lady of Loss, you will still know great arcane power. It is down the other path, the one taken only by those beloved of Shar, where you will truly learn the power of Her Shadow Weave. You don’t need to tell me now which path you are going to choose right at this moment…truly our Mistress already knows the answer to that question. But you must know this, Shar expects some form of payment for this great boon that she would extend to you.”
When Thrisp inquired as to the type of payment, he already knew the answer before Lucius spoke. With a smile promising malice, the Sharran cleric said the words the gnome had anticipated: “Sacrifice. Shar demands payment in blood. And not from something as pedestrian as some peasant you see on the side of the road. Someone more…consequential…than that.” To this point, Lucius had made sure to keep the gnome’s hands clean of any unnecessary blood, all to keep his seat on the Dawn Council safe from scrutiny. This most definitely was a change in policy, but Thrisp was already experienced with the power associated with the Shadow Weave…Thrisp’s soul seemed to be a small price to pay for access to its deepest secrets.
By midnight, Shar’s witching hour, Thrisp’s decision had been made. He rolled over, closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
________________________________________________________________
As the sun dawned on the Sea Wyvern’s fifth day of freedom from Journey’s End, the day was overcast and grim. Yet despite that, the mood aboard the caravel was positively festive, for Thrisp had spotted land! The ragged, jungle-choked peaks of the Isle of Dread loomed on the horizon off the starboard bow. Though still miles away, just the sight of it brought a cheer from the crew and passengers. They had reached their goal. All that remained was to sail down its eastern coast to Farshore.
Alas, as the day wore on, it became increasingly obvious that the weather gods plotted against them, and by mid-afternoon, another storm raged in full force. This one was much more powerful, however, than the first the expedition had encountered, bordering on a hurricane. Four hours passed as the storm raged, and Amella fought madly to keep the ship on course. Samson and Sepoto remained on deck with the crew, lending their strength to the battle against the sea. The other passengers and Legionnaires secured themselves below deck. Just after sunset, however, a tremendous lurch struck the Sea Wyvern, and the sound of splintering wood filled the air. The ship came to a sudden stop, sending all aboard sprawling to the deck, and several unfortunate sailors in the rigging plunging into the sea below. The caravel listed perilously to port, and waves crashed relentlessly against it. It was obvious that the Sea Wyvern had run aground.
Sepoto rushed down the tilted deck to the bow rail, and peered over the side. He could see that what they had struck was a large reef. The ship was about half-way over it. Samson opened the hatch to the gangway below decks, and called down for a damage report. Basil rushed up the stairs, shouting that they were taking on water. Suddenly, the sea below Sepoto exploded upward as a large creature breeched. It appeared to be some sort of worm-like fish, easily thirty feet from tip to tail. Its face was a terrible circular maw of grinding teeth, with two beady eyes peering out from the crown of its head. Large spines rose from its sinuous back, shuddering and rattling with menace.
“It’s a masher!” Amella called from the quarterdeck, where she wrestled with the wheel, struggling to rock the boat free. “It’ll wreck us fer sure!”
“Not if I can help it,” Sepoto growled. But even as he spoke, the masher struck, raking his chest with its spike-like teeth. The goliath reeled back, but counterattacked as he fell. In an instant, Samson was beside him, adding his acid breath to the crusader’s brute strength. Sepoto was still struggling to regain his footing on the canted deck when magic exploded all about the creature. A vivid spray of colored light spilled from the porthole beneath the foc’s’le where Thrisp had holed up for the storm, causing the masher to loll drunkenly to one side. Then, twin Fireballs exploded as Marius joined Basil on deck. Its head a smoking ruin, the monster fish collapsed back into the sea.
At that moment, Amella wrenched the wheel hard to starboard, and the Sea Wyvern slipped free from the reef. Immediately, the storm snatched the damaged ship again, turning it directly into an oncoming swell. A powerful rush of surf washed across the deck, sweeping over all those in its wake. Sepoto, still standing atop the foc’s’le, lost his footing and was swept from his feet. As he slid across the deck, he grabbed desperately for the railing, but the violent motion of the vessel ripped his fingers free, and he was carried overboard into the dark, roiling water. No one witnessed the goliath’s plight, struggling as they were to keep themselves on deck. The storm continued, and caught by its fury, the Sea Wyvern was driven inexorably towards the north shore of the island. The primeval vista loomed before them, periodically lit by flashes of lightning. Suddenly, the ship lurched again, throwing everyone to the deck. It tilted crazily to one side, lurched again, and then rolled completely. The cold, dark sea rushed up to meet them, and in a cacophonous roar of wave and ruin, all went dark…
Darkness. Pain. Cold. Thrisp was acutely aware of all three sensations as he clawed his way through the rough brine. Almost fortuitously, Thrisp felt his hand find purchase on something hard. Sharp, yes, but something solid. A reef or rock of some sort. The gnome was still deep underwater, but before the boat had grounded itself he had the wherewithal to don one of his alchemical breathing masks that he had purchased before leaving Tashluta. Holding on for dear life with one hand, Thrisp quickly spoke the words to one of his spells. Using his magic, he quickly clambered up the reef like a spider until he emerged at the surface. Once there, all Thrisp could hear was the storm, the crashing waves…and a woman’s frantic calls for help!
Not twenty feet away, Thrisp saw Lirith Veldirose clinging to the same reef with all of her strength, screaming out in pain and desperation. Even from this distance, it was apparent that the stiff currents has smashed the woman into the reef and broken her leg. There was no way that she was going to make it to shore in that condition without his help.
“Thank Selune’s grace! Thrisp, help me! I’m hurt badly and I am afraid if I move from this spot I’ll drown.” Quickly, Thrisp crawled along the side of the reef to Lirith’s side, thanks to his spider climb.
This is it.
Thrisp yelled over the crashing surf. “I am not strong enough to carry you! I do have an idea, though! I have one remaining fly spell available to me. I can give it to you, and regardless of your condition you will be able to make it to shore. I am light enough that you should be able to carry me, too.”
Good story. You can’t even cast ‘fly’.
Lirith nodded, a look of hope in her eyes. “That would be great! I always did like you, Thrisp.”
And I always liked you, too, Lirith. This would be so much easier to stomach if it were personal. I guess this makes it twice on this journey that you have chosen your men poorly.
“Now hold still, and don’t resist my magic.” Lirith nodded again.
Goodbye, Lirith.
Thrisp began casting his spell. When he had completed the last word, the gnome feigned an attempt to touch Lirith, but at the last second turned his hand and pointed at the rogue. Instead of taking to the air, Lirith found all of her muscles and joints freeze into place. Even her breathing, before fast and labored, became slow and reflexive. Thrisp knew that if Lirith were capable of changing her facial expression, it would be one of horror.
Methodically, the gnome removed the rigid woman from the reef. Pressing on her forehead with his small hand, Thrisp held Lirith underwater until her tight muscles relaxed…when her brain died, he knew that his hold person effect would end. Thrisp released the corpse, and it floated away from the reef.
Simultaneously Thrisp was overcome with two emotions, the first of which was joy in knowing that he had done Shar’s will and would be granted new power as Her servant. The second emotion was that of grief…grief over the monster that he had become.
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Dawn. The air was still, and cloyingly hot and humid. Damp sand clung to every available surface. Sepoto pulled himself slowly back to consciousness, surveying his surroundings in confusion. The last thing he remembered was the sea pulling him under, then nothing. Now, as he gazed around blearily, he found himself on a desolate stretch of beach, with a wall of jungle looming less than a hundred feet away. Wreckage and debris was scattered across the sand, along with several bodies. Some of these were moving, and the goliath was immediately relieved to see all of his comrades among the living. Amella had survived as well, as had Urol and Tavey Nesk…but that was all. The others, the entire crew, Lirith, even Avner’s servants…all were dead.
Gradually, the survivors regained their senses and drifted together, their expressions a mixture of fear, confusion, anxiety and wonder. It was Anwar, of course, who spoke first: “So, does anyone know exactly where we are?”
Urol, who had been the only one of their small band to actually show any signs of enthusiasm at their situation, quickly piped up. “Well, if I had to guess, I’d say we’re somewhere on the northeast shore of the island. Probably about a hundred miles or more from Tanaroa, the nearest Maztican village.”
“Fantastic,” Marius said, sarcastically. “Fine bit of piloting there, Captain.”
Amella had been silent since she’d regained consciousness, her face a mask of misery. Ordinarily, a jibe such as the one the Seeker had just made would draw her full wrath. Instead, she covered her face and turned away. Anwar scowled at the mage, and put an arm around the woman’s shoulders in comfort.
“We wouldn’t even be alive, if not for Amella,” he said. “We would all do well to remember that.”
Marius looked at him skeptically, wondering what angle the bard was playing this time. Urol, meanwhile, had picked up a stick, and was busy sketching a rough map of the island in the sand. When he’d finished, he stood and pointed. “You see. We’re right here. I believe if we head…” His words were abruptly cut off by an earsplitting roar that tore through the heavy, morning air. Lumbering out of the jungle was a towering, reptilian predator, with an enormous head and a mouth full of dagger-sized teeth. It stood on two powerful legs, and had only vestigial forelimbs. With another deafening roar, it started towards them.
“Tyrannosaur!” Urol shrieked, and darted towards the wreckage behind them, seeking what meager shelter there was.
“Follow him!” Sepoto commanded Amella and Tavey, as he moved towards the charging lizard.
“But you’re hurt!” Tavey protested. A sharp look from the goliath convinced him, however, but no before he plucked a healing draught from his gear and laid it in the sand near Sepoto. The thundering beast came on, but as it did, Marius dropped a Fireball right in its path. The monster never slowed. To Sepoto’s astonishment, and horror, Samson had gotten in front of him while he was distracted by Tavey. The goblin dragon shaman spewed his breath at the Tyrannosaur, but he might as well have been spitting into a cyclone. The creature snapped him up in its great jaws, and blood gushed from Samson’s mouth.
“Help him!” Sepoto shouted, and then began chanting a prayer over his chain. As he did so, Basil opened fire, sending two rays of flame from his hands towards the dinosaur. The lizard roared, but did not release its prey. A second Fireball from Marius blistered its hide more, but the relentless hunter refused to fall. Even when Sepoto struck, his spell causing his weapon to tear even deeper than normal into the Tyrannosaur’s flesh, the great reptile refused to drop Samson.
“On my word!” Anwar shouted to the dragon shaman, and then the bard began casting in a sing-song chant. As he finished, a layer of oily grease completely coated the goblin’s armor. “Now!” Anwar called. Samson, though in agony, began wriggling and twisting, struggling to free himself. It was no use. The dinosaur threw back its head, and with an audible gulp, swallowed the goblin whole.
“Bastard!” Basil cried, and loosed a second pair of scorching rays. Thrisp joined him, adding a scintillating spray of colors to the mix. The T-rex stumbled, and Sepoto was on it, slashing and tearing with his chain like a creature possessed. Even Anwar joined in the melee, knocking his bow and firing a lucky shot into the creature’s flank. Still, it was Marius, copying Basil’s tactic, who brought the beast down, burning both its eyes from its skull with his fire. As the animal collapsed to the sand, its jaws went slack, and a moment later a gore-covered Samson crawled to freedom.
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In the aftermath of the T-rex attack, Anwar assigned Amella and Tavey the task of salvaging anything they could from the wreckage on the beach, in order to distract them from their dilemma. Urol continued his map work, plotting their course to the southern peninsula. Meanwhile, Anwar and Samson swam out to the shattered Sea Wyvern to see what could be recovered. By the time they returned, Urol called for everyone to gather round while he explained his plan.
“I propose to take us through these small mountains to the south,” he said, indicating the route on the map. “Then we’ll travel along the bay toward Tanaroa. This excursion, while scenic, will be quick and safe. I estimate we can make the peninsula in no more than ten days, barring no unforeseen circumstances.”
“What about provisions?” Anwar asked. “Samson and I found some salvageable foodstuffs aboard the ship, as well as several healing potions.”
“And we found food as well!” Tavey piped up, grinning at Sepoto. The goliath gave him an affectionate pat on the back.
“Yes, well,” Urol said thoughtfully, “my best guess would be that each of you big folk will need about ten pounds of food for the trip. I and my diminutive kinsman will require only three pounds, while the boy could get by on five.”
“We have that and more,” Amella said, looking over the supplies they’d scavenged.
“With my skills as a naturalist,” Urol continued, “we could actually get by on about half that amount. There’s plenty to eat from the local flora and fauna.”
“The food we have will suffice,” Anwar replied.
Urol shrugged. “In any event, it’s getting towards dusk now, and I don’t advise we begin our travels by night. We could all use a good night’s rest, and start fresh in the morning.”
Anwar looked at Basil. “I believe you were researching a new spell that might aid us in this. Have you had any success?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the wizard nodded. “Though it will only last about eight hours. We’ll have to keep our usual watches until late this evening.”
The group made camp on the beach, near the waterline, well back from the jungle canopy. Thrisp immediately rolled himself into his blankets near the fire, determined to get as much sleep as he could. Anwar moved to sit near Amella, who still looked forlorn and empty.
“What I said was true, earlier,” he said. “We couldn’t have survived without you. This is not your fault.”
“Aye,” she said flatly. “Try tellin’ th’crew that.” She looked towards the mounds in the sand where they had buried their dead.
“Look” Anwar said, turning her chin until her eyes met his, “you were our leader for these past three months. The passengers and crew looked to you for guidance. My companions and I are seasoned adventurers, but Tavey and Urol are not. We may well find other survivors on our trek. After all, there was no sign of Avner’s body on the beach. They need you to be strong. You’ve survived much tragedy in your life. You will bridge through this to the other side. I have faith in you.”
The sea captain held his gaze for a moment, finally allowing herself a small smile as she looked away.
“Ye’re a charmer,” she said, “but we’ll see….we’ll see.”
Anwar was about to say more, but a frightened cry from Urol, followed by a curse from Sepoto brought him to his feet in an instant. “What is it?” he shouted.
“In the tree line,” the goliath pointed. “We’ve got incoming.”
The bard looked where Sepoto indicated, and saw four large creatures creeping from the shadows of the trees. They appeared to be some species of flightless bird, though their cruelly hooked beaks and wickedly sharp talons marked them as predators.
“They’re terror birds!” Urol nearly shrieked. “They’ve been drawn by the scent of the tyrannosaur carcass. Curse me for a fool for not thinking about that! We should have removed it!”
“Too late now,” Sepoto muttered, bracing himself as the birds surged towards them.
They were fast, and were among the survivors before they could react. The foremost snapped at Sepoto, tearing a chunk out of the goliath’s arm. A second one darted towards Samson, seizing the goblin in its beak, and lifting him off the ground. The third one looped around Sepoto’s flank and snagged Tavey as the boy hid behind the goliath. He screamed as blood spurted from his leg an the terror bird dragged him across the sand.
“Tavey!” Amella shouted, instantly in motion, drawing her rapier as she ran. When she reached the animal, she plunged her blade through one of its eyes. Samson, his arms pinned to his side, did the only thing he could. He spat acid right in the face of the bird that held him. Abruptly, twin explosions of fire erupted behind the birds, incinerating both the one that held Samson, and the one that had tried to make a meal of Sepoto.
“Amella, get back!” Anwar cried, shoving the sailor behind him. He held his own rapier tentatively in his hand, though his eyes were on Sepoto. The goliath caught his look, rolled his eyes, and then charged forward. As the terror bird dragged Tavey further away, the crusader closed the distance to it. The bird shrieked at him, warning him away, but Sepoto was not so easily deterred. He leaped, wrapping his chain around the terror bird’s neck, chanting a prayer as he did so. The barbs from his weapon scythed through flesh and sinew, ripping the animal’s head from its body. As its body continued to run about for a few seconds more, the goliath grabbed up Tavey and retreated back towards the fire. The boy sobbed uncontrollably against his shoulder.
The final bird hissed menacingly at the group as it backed slowly up the beach, knowing it wound not have its intended meal this night. As it bent to take a bite from the dead t-rex, Marius invoked his magic. Both the bird and the dinosaur corpse exploded in flames.
“Why don’t you have your meal well-done?” the warmage said humorlessly.
When Sepoto reached to others, he carefully laid Tavey on the sand.
“Here, let me tend him,” Anwar said, shouldering past the goliath. The bard pulled a wand from his belt and began healing the lad’s wounds. On the opposite side of the fire, Amella smiled warmly. Sepoto watched it all, disgusted with the bard’s false bravado. Sepoto was a priest, more than capable of tending to Tavey, but he could see that Anwar’s motives were much less benevolent. Lavinia was missing, and if she was alive and safe at Farshore, she was still miles away. It seemed that Anwar practiced the motto of “a bird in hand…”
Joachim
First Post
Here is the inaugural Thrisp Doogal character build:
Thrisp Doogal CR 7
Male lesser svirfneblin Beguiler 6 / Shadow Adept 1
NE Medium humanoid (gnome)
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; darkvision; Listen +2, Spot +0
Languages Common, Gnome, Abyssal, Infernal, Undercommon, Maztican
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AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 16
(+2 Dex, +5 armor, +1 size, +1 dodge)
hp 40 (7 HD)
Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +8; +2 racial bonus against spells and spell-like effects
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Speed 30 ft. (6 squares)
Ranged Light Crossbow +6 (1d6)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
Base Atk +3; Grp -2
Combat Gear 13 potion of cure light wounds, potion of cure moderate wounds, potion of expeditious retreat, potion of cat's grace, 4 scrolls of silent image, 4 scrolls of open/close
Beguiler Spells
3rd (5/day) Standard for beguiler
2nd (7/day) Standard for beguiler
1st (7/day) Standard for beguiler plus net of shadows (Advanced Learning)
0 (6/day) Standard for beguiler, minus light and dancing lights
Spell Like Abilities (1/day)
Resistance, Daze, Lullaby, Prestidigitation, Ghost Sound, Speak with Animals (burrowing mammals only)
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Abilities Str 8, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 14
SQ +1 to hit goblinoids and kobolds, +1 racial bonus to Illusion DC's, Stonecunning, +2 to Hide Checks, increases to +4 underground (+2 considered in stats below), trapfinding, Surprise Casting, Cloaked Casting (+1 to DC)
Feats Academy Graduate (Diplomacy, Disable Device, and Use Magic Device) [Bonus District Feat], Darkstalker, Greater Spell Focus (Illusion), Insidious Magic, Pernicious Magic, Shadow Weave Magic, Silent Spell, Spell Focus (Illusion), Tenacious Magic
Flaw Noncombatant
Trait Quick
Skills Bluff +12, Concentration +17, Craft (Alchemy) +6, Diplomacy +14 (+16 in Tashluta), Disable Device +16, Hide +25, Knowledge (arcana) +12, Knowledge (history) +6, Knowledge (nobility) +6, Move Silently +18, Open Lock +5, Search +20, Spellcraft +15, Use Magic Device +5 (+7 for scrolls)
Possessions combat gear plus +1 shadow mithril shirt with attached keel, headband of intellect+2, goggles of minute seeing, vest of resistance +1, boots of elvenkind, belt of steady spellcasting, masterwork tools (hide, move silently, and search), masterwork thieves' tools, spell component pouch, Spire of Tashluta (+2 to Diplomacy and Gather Information in Tashluta), Short Sword, swimming goggles, forestwarden's shroud, 3 Auran masks, Bat Idol key
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Hook "I could tell you the truth, or I could tell you a lie, and you wouldn't know the difference. So...which would you prefer to hear today?"
Thrisp Doogal CR 7
Male lesser svirfneblin Beguiler 6 / Shadow Adept 1
NE Medium humanoid (gnome)
Init +2; Senses low-light vision; darkvision; Listen +2, Spot +0
Languages Common, Gnome, Abyssal, Infernal, Undercommon, Maztican
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AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 16
(+2 Dex, +5 armor, +1 size, +1 dodge)
hp 40 (7 HD)
Fort +6, Ref +5, Will +8; +2 racial bonus against spells and spell-like effects
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Speed 30 ft. (6 squares)
Ranged Light Crossbow +6 (1d6)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
Base Atk +3; Grp -2
Combat Gear 13 potion of cure light wounds, potion of cure moderate wounds, potion of expeditious retreat, potion of cat's grace, 4 scrolls of silent image, 4 scrolls of open/close
Beguiler Spells
3rd (5/day) Standard for beguiler
2nd (7/day) Standard for beguiler
1st (7/day) Standard for beguiler plus net of shadows (Advanced Learning)
0 (6/day) Standard for beguiler, minus light and dancing lights
Spell Like Abilities (1/day)
Resistance, Daze, Lullaby, Prestidigitation, Ghost Sound, Speak with Animals (burrowing mammals only)
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Abilities Str 8, Dex 14, Con 16, Int 19, Wis 10, Cha 14
SQ +1 to hit goblinoids and kobolds, +1 racial bonus to Illusion DC's, Stonecunning, +2 to Hide Checks, increases to +4 underground (+2 considered in stats below), trapfinding, Surprise Casting, Cloaked Casting (+1 to DC)
Feats Academy Graduate (Diplomacy, Disable Device, and Use Magic Device) [Bonus District Feat], Darkstalker, Greater Spell Focus (Illusion), Insidious Magic, Pernicious Magic, Shadow Weave Magic, Silent Spell, Spell Focus (Illusion), Tenacious Magic
Flaw Noncombatant
Trait Quick
Skills Bluff +12, Concentration +17, Craft (Alchemy) +6, Diplomacy +14 (+16 in Tashluta), Disable Device +16, Hide +25, Knowledge (arcana) +12, Knowledge (history) +6, Knowledge (nobility) +6, Move Silently +18, Open Lock +5, Search +20, Spellcraft +15, Use Magic Device +5 (+7 for scrolls)
Possessions combat gear plus +1 shadow mithril shirt with attached keel, headband of intellect+2, goggles of minute seeing, vest of resistance +1, boots of elvenkind, belt of steady spellcasting, masterwork tools (hide, move silently, and search), masterwork thieves' tools, spell component pouch, Spire of Tashluta (+2 to Diplomacy and Gather Information in Tashluta), Short Sword, swimming goggles, forestwarden's shroud, 3 Auran masks, Bat Idol key
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Hook "I could tell you the truth, or I could tell you a lie, and you wouldn't know the difference. So...which would you prefer to hear today?"
Last edited:
Hammerhead
Explorer
What is an attached keel on Thrisp's armor? While I'm no sailor, keels go on the bottom of ships. The one thing I could guess is that it's some kind of fin on the back, so he looks like a shark when he swims. But that's kind of silly .
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