5E (IC) Fitz's Folly - Page 150
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  1. #1491
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    Qawasha sighed and answered Harb, "The worst will be the many, many biting insects. But seriously, the dangers of the Aldani Basin are mostly unknown to me. We can expect to see the usual great beasts, though most are not as bold as those we have already encountered. The Aldani Lobster-Folk, we may run into again. Though I think perhaps not - I have not heard of anyone seeing them for years. I had thought them gone. As ever, the thing that concerns me most is the heart of the jungle: The heart of the Chultan Jungle has always held undead, but these days it is much worse. We will have to travel through some very dense jungle once we leave the Basin."

  2. #1492
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    "If that is our route, then we best begin," says Miss Imogen, looking at the dying outpost around her.

  3. #1493
    Harb nodded. "Let us gather what supplies we can and rest for now."

  4. #1494
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    Wulf Rygor began to gather some able-bodied labourers to begin construction on the rafts. Qawasha and Kupalue ventured out of the Camp to gather herbs that would be needed to create more insect-repelling salve. Commander Breakbone did not interfere: It appeared that the loss of much of his forces had left him quite defeated. He was still strongly in command, but the bellowing tyrant of their previous meeting had softened slightly - in its place was a man who clearly expected to do his duty to the last - an end he expected to come sooner rather than later.

    Perhaps if the Sticks were successful in their mission, the undead would be defeated as well. Perhaps not. Still, it was worth a try. While he could not spare much in the way of resources, he did not argue when Kasqa and another strong Chultan named Hup'lo volunteered to pole their rafts and to help carry them when they had to cross land. Tarri could not come, and while she was sad to be separated from her husband, she had become fond of the Sticks in their time together, and she trusted them to watch over him.

    OOC: Anything anyone want to do at the Camp, or is everyone ready to go?

  5. #1495
    Harb spent some time tending to the sick and injured. Again, he did little to forestall any expected demise, but he did his best to help ease the suffering. For any whose time was near, the monk spent some special attention to. Seeking not only to learn from their passing, but also to minister to them and perform any last rights they might wish.

    He did take the opportunity, to restock his healer's kit. Though he had no wish to raid their dwindling supplies. Their mission was urgent and failure in it would mean far worse to come.

  6. #1496
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    Miss Imogen, having replenished her arrows from abandoned quivers (or those left by the deceased), stands ready to leave. Her bow is strung with a new bowstring.

  7. #1497
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    The Sticks spent the night in an empty tent. It was furnished with tattered and slightly damp bedrolls and from the few personal effects tucked about, it was clear that its former occupants had either been hastily evacuated, or more likely had died.

    In the morning, the rafts were ready, and Kasqa and Hup'lo stood by them, ready to carry them for the first leg of the journey.

    Commander Breakbone said little to them as they left, but he nodded grimly and watched from the gatehouse as they made their way south along the bank of the river.

    Wulf Rygor could not go along for the mission, but he accompanied them until they were out of sight of the Camp.

    Then he said, "My friends, I bid you a quick journey and a successful mission. I have all the hope in the world that you will be safe. Perhaps we will meet again some day and you can tell me the tale. Farewell."

    And the scoutmaster turned back toward the tattered banner of the Order of the Gauntlet that could just be seen flying limply over the jungle.

  8. #1498
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    Miss Imogen dreamed of the fight with the Terror-Folk, her brain confusing both the initial contact, where she had leapt off a precipice to recover Tarri, and the fight at the nest, where Qawasha and the Axe-Beak had been imprisoned together. When she heard Nanny's cackles echoing in her head she awoke, and saw that it was still dark.

    She didn't get back to sleep, but instead got up, and listened to the river flow slowly by, cleaning her dress and hair as best she could, and swatting at flies, as day broke miserably across the camp. She did not visit the sister to replenish their water this morning before they left. Where they were heading, supplies would be few enough, that she may come to envy this camp.

    She had hoped that Tarri would come to say goodbye to them, but Miss Imogen did not see her in the thin crowd. And so, uncertain of what was coming, unable to tell her Uncle of what it was they faced, she climbed on board the same raft as Weed.

  9. #1499
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    As the travelled south to the origins of the River Soshenstar, they put the raft in the water for a few hours at a time, for practice. (The rest of the time they were forced to carry the rafts as there were many rapids and short falls to travel around). Everyone aboard needed to do their part, either to pole along, to fend off obstacles, or just to keep the balance of the raft.

    In the end it was decided that the rafts were best balanced by one holding Kasqa, Chrysagon, Imogen, and Qawasha, with Weed sitting on the supplies piled (and lashed) to the middle of the raft, and the second holding Hup'lo, Dellrak, Rodrigo, and Harb, with a similar position for the monkey Ukee.

    A few days went by at a slow pace, but soon the Sticks found themselves poling deep into the Aldani Basin - a swamp that stretched for a hundred miles to the south.

  10. #1500
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    When she's not helping with the poling, Miss Imogen helps to balance the craft, as best she can, by sitting on one side of the raft or the other.

    It's a lonely trip, and there's not much conversation.

    She finds that, despite the heat, she is able to form a snowball of sorts in her hand, and throw it towards any approaching crocodiles. These ones are bigger than the ones they'd seen previous, but slower. The sudden rush of cold seems to slow them fairly well, and she doesn't waste any arrows she can't recover.

    OOC: Poling as Athletics: (1d20-1)[17].
    Using the Frostbite cantrip as an initial salvo at any creature that first appears in range.
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