[Adventure] Marna is Missing (DM: pacdidj, Judge: renau1g)

Sir Exsixten halts then slowly swivels to face the cave. He stands for a moment in the darkness then wades back.

I HAVE A BETTER PLAN, CITIZENS OF JUSTICE. WE WILL HOLD UP HERE, MAKE HIM BELIEVE WE ARE NOT WISE TO HIS FOUL TRICKS THEN SURPRISE HIM IN THE MORNING!

There is a few minutes' pause as Sir Exsixten settles in at the mouth of the cave, on watch. Then he leans in and booms out:

REST WELL MEATBAGS! MAY SLEEP FIND YOU QUICKLY.

Five minutes pass.

CITIZENS! LET YOUR DREAMS BE UNTROUBLED KNOWING THAT SIR EXSIXTEN GUARDS YOUR PRONE FLESH SACKS.

A few more minutes pass.

BLESSED REST BE UPON YOU AND BE ASSURED, ANYTHING THAT SLIPS PAST MY WATCHFUL GAZE AND MURDERS YOU IN THE NIGHT WILL NOT LIVE LONG! REVENGE WILL BE HAD!

After that, he seems to have finally run out of things to say, though he seems to be mumbling his "internal dialogue" to himself most of the night.

SIR EXSIXTEN STANDS, ALERT, WATCHFUL, ON GUARD FOR ANYTHING. HE HEARS A NOISE IN THE SWAMP. VIGILANTLY, HE PEERS INTO THE ENCLOSING DARKNESS, READY FOR ANYTHING. SECONDS PASS... AND MORE SECONDS... AND MORE... <ETC>

[sblock=OOC]Sir Exsixten will be on watch all night, since he only needs 4 hours of inactivity for an extended rest and he's aware during that time. His passive perception is marginal(12), but better than nothing.[/sblock]

Alnar finds nothing useful on the bodies of the crocs, seeing as they are thoroughly mundane, if dangerous creatures. But, as the party enters the small cave to make camp, they notice a number of nearly complete skeletons littering the floor, including that of the large crocodile in which Sir Exsixten was formerly entombed, as well as those of several humans. Two of the human skeletons were obviously soldiers, and there are scraps of chain armor sitting amidst their bones that are in much better condition than those strewn about the outside of the cave, likely because of some inherent magical properties. Another human skeleton is partially covered by the remains of what used to be fine and fashionable (if a bit out of date) Dauntonian robes. The skeleton is completely missing an arm, shoulder and several ribs, which appear to have been bitten off in a single chomp. Noting an oilskin pouch dangling from the remains of the skeleton's belt, Alnar peeks inside, and finds a couple of potions, and two semi-precious looking stones. There is also a decayed-looking book sitting next to the skeleton.

[sblock=treasure found!]2 potions of healing, a moonstone and a turquoise gem each worth 50gp, and a set of Piecemeal Chainmail +1

Chainmail is from Sir Exsixten's wish list, intended to help him keep pace with the now second-level party. Divide up the rest as you see fit.[/sblock]

[sblock="If anyone opens the book"]Opening the book sitting next to the skeleton, you quickly realize that it must have been the deceased man's diary. Many pages have rotted away, and some of the ink has faded or been leeched away entirely, but some of the final pages are still legible:

...natives seem to appreciate ... trinkets. Spoke with ...
provided us directions to gnomish...
apparently a farming community. The only one on this
accursed steamy Island? The old man cautioned... close to the
river bank.

Full day's travel has brought us to... with a charming
looking, if slightly foul-smelling pond. Mangroves seem to...
closer to the river here... back specimens... botanical society will
want to study further.

Located dry cave ... camp for the evening. Reginald ... suspicious...
always worrying. No sign of the purportedly dangerous local fauna
yet. Superstitious natives... not to be trusted, and what's m...


The writing breaks off abruptly here, with the ink trailing off in an erratic squiggle. This appears to be the final written page of the diary. It is flecked with dark spots that are likely the author's blood.[/sblock]

Sir Exsixten keeps up his night's watch and internal monologue well into the night. About five hours into his watch, at least according the warforged's reliable(?) internal clock, he notices what appear to be four small, cloaked figures staring out at him from the other side of the pool, their forms barely revealed by the light of the glowing embers left by Alnar's unintentional bonfire. The clockwork knight begins to sally forth across the water, but the figures quickly turn and disappear into the night, nowhere to be seen. Sir Exsixten alertly scans the area for several minutes, but finally deems the shadowy figures to have been either occular parsing errors or cowards, and therefore not worth waking the meatbags about.

Gradually, the sun's light spills into the clearing once again and brightens the entrance to the small cave, easing the party out of their much needed slumber.

MetaVoid said:

"Sir Exsixten! Stand down! These people had a hard day in the swamp and didn't rest in the cave as you did. Stand vigilant on the entrance to the cave and let them regain their strength."

Having dispatched noisesome knight he turns toward others
"I would like to hear more about this warlock, if you please?"

Deva maintains his calm, but those observant enough might notice he's cooling to warforged presence (and voice that comes with it) in his vicinity.

EDIT: Ninja'd by Luinnar

Click to expand...

Alnar tries his best to explain the events of the journey so far to the Deva, though he is tired for a long day's journey.

About the... Warlock he whispers hoping the Warforge does not hear him. All I know that there is one... or was one responsible for all this... It could be the gnome, I don't know... he was either hired or is a local.

As the morning light reaches him, Ferris' eyes snap open. ... was that... a dream?... Looking quickly at his hands and feeling his face, he sighs in a mixture of relief and regret. So real... and it felt so wonderful, running through the jungle like that... feeling closer to my beloved than ever, only now truly understanding what it is to be part of her kingdom... I can almost still feel that part of me that changed in the dream, stir...

Alnar wakes up and stretches. The hard floor was not exactly the most restful night's sleep, but it was good enough. He spots the book and takes it from the skeleton and begins reading it. Not much useful here he mumbles to himself. As he reads it Draco comes flying in. Took you long enough he says to the Dragonling. He quickly remembers the Warforge. This is not a Dragon, it is a figment of your imagination brought about by proper lack of exercise and creaky joints. Dragons could never be that tiny.

[sblock=treasure]
Four things to split, who wants the potions and who the gems? I don't mind either way.[/sblock]

At the first hint of dawn light Sir Exsixten walks into the cave, the closed confines amplifying his voice.

GOOD MORNING SELF-LABELED MEATBAGS! NOTHING KILLED YOU IN THE NIGHT, MOST FORTUITOUS! A MORNING OF FUNCTIONAL ACTIVATION IS PREFERRED TO BLOODY DISMEMBERMENT!

He stops and stares at Draco. I WAS NOT AWARE I WAS POSSESSED OF SUCH THING AS AN IMAGINATION. IF SO, IT MAKES DRAGONS THAT ARE TOO SMALL TO FIGHT AND THUS I BANISH THEE! FOUL SPIRIT OF IMAGINATION, BEGONE!

He draws his axe with no warning and slashes it about in the small space as though fighting an invisible enemy. DIE PERFIDIOUS FOE, RETURN TO WHATEVER FOUL BRAIN-SOUP SPAWNED THEE!

He pauses again as if waiting for this "imagination" thing to dare to return, then nods to himself in a self-satisfied manner when it doesn't. Then he notices the armor.

THOU, CITIZENS OF JUSTICE, HAVE KNITTED SIR EXSIXTEN A SUIT OF ARMOR IN THINE SLEEP! WHAT GREATER COHORTS THAN THOSE UPON WHICH THE LORDS OF AWESOME HAVE BESTOWED THIS HUMBLE KNIGHT THAN THESE, MUCH OF GREAT PORTENT THAN CAN BE MADE THEREFOR FROM WHICH BETWIXT... ANEW... VERILY... <ERROR, WORD FAULT: ABORT... FAIL... RETRY>

Gears grind loudly as Sir Exsixten's head tilts to an extreme angle, then snaps straight with an audible metallic twang. Perhaps the excitement was too much and he blew a fuse. There is blessed silence as he dons the chainmail then stands quietly in the cave, a thin plume of smoke wafting from his head as he waits attentively.

[sblock=Treasure]I'm updating my character with the armor now. As for treasure, I vote we just split it up at the end. For the potions, I'd say give them to the players with the lowest healing surge values since they benefit them the most.[/sblock]

Cyr, not having to fight every inch of the way reads the diary before going to sleep.

In the morning he thanks Mireva for the silence and continues the discussion from the night before:
"There is an ancient evil stirring on the island. I came to investigate. In Laughing Glade I spoke to leader and sage of the gnomes, but he refused to tell me anything until I find the missing group. Judging by the remains, original group was eaten and Sir Ex gave one croc bad case of indigestion. You, on the other hand, are not THAT group, therefore you must know something about these ruins and what kind of evil is awakening. Do you?"

MetaVoid said:

Cyr, not having to fight every inch of the way reads the diary before going to sleep.

In the morning he thanks Mireva for the silence and continues the discussion from the night before:
"There is an ancient evil stirring on the island. I came to investigate. In Laughing Glade I spoke to leader and sage of the gnomes, but he refused to tell me anything until I find the missing group. Judging by the remains, original group was eaten and Sir Ex gave one croc bad case of indigestion. You, on the other hand, are not THAT group, therefore you must know something about these ruins and what kind of evil is awakening. Do you?"

Click to expand...

Marna is missing. Alnar says simply. One of these native.. totem things. Stolen right from under their nose with the help of a warlock. We were contacted by the human tribes to find it. Without it it upsets the balance, or something.

Alnar waves his hands vaguely I never really understood these types of things. Primal totems which control nature... or something. All I know is that they need our help.

[sblock=treasure]My suggestion at treasure distribution (as per X610's comment):

Alnar: Potion
Cyr: Potion
Ferris: Gem
Jezebel: Gem
Sir X610: Chainmail[/sblock]
Jezebel slowly rises and yawns loudly. She rubs at her half-closed eyes tiredly, and she doesn't seem to notice how disheveled her hair has become over the night. The only thing betraying her innocent appearance is the dagger she is absentmindedly holding at her side.

"Is it morning already?" She squints at the rising sun. "Guess we'd better go slaughter the gnomes then."

Jezebel stumbles off to the waterfall to splash some water in her face. A good 30 seconds pass before she calls back to the group, "After we make sure they have the marna, of course!"

Don't mind her, she was dropped on her head as a baby Alnar says to Cyr.

[sblock=treasure]
That looks good to me if everyone else is OK with it [/sblock]