Jacks face visibly drops at the cost. He's absolutely certain he doesn't have that much... wait, 99% certain, there's still a chance! He races back to his kayak and combs through his stuff, twice, but no matter how many times he counts he only comes up with half the amount.
Zog strokes the hair on his big chin at Jack's request. "Hmmmph... tell you what." He takes out a large leather satchel and begins to hunt around in it, eventually producing a delicate wrap of paper. Pressed inside the paper is a beautiful flower, it's petals nearly glowing with radiant color. "You are going to the Dark Glen. Take this with you when you go...send it with my regards, to the Keeper. It'll save me a trip for a couple of years. I dont care for...that part of the Wood. Then you got a deal."
Jack is back in full excite mode, "Deal!" He takes the flower, carefully, then hands Zog the rest of his money and wanders to the chest to grab his prize. He looks like the Tabaxi that ate the Aarakocra.
Later that night when everyone's asleep the upside-down helm is acting as Mister Fusspot's bed.
Oak's throat rumbles in a small growl as Zog mentions Rax traveling ahead of them. Zog seems to quickly determine Rax's true colors, though, and apparently had directed him well out of his way. That meant the group should be able to pass them by hopefully, and keep Rax from doing whatever poor intentioned idea was floating around in his head.
Oak looks over Jack's shoulder at the chest, but nothing draws his interest, so he doesn't bother sifting through it as Jack ends up agreeing to a deal to pick up a helm. It was an interesting look, but didn't take much thought to understand why Jack fancied it.
"We 'ppreciate the help Zog. Rax ain't good stuck as you could tell."
As the others get settled in and finish up their dealings with Zog, Oak pulls out the book that the Captain gave him and starts reading through it, occasionally looking up at the various party members as he reads certain passages, nodding slightly here and there.
Jack becomes suddenly aware, inside of a very large cage. The cage hangs from a heavy chain inside Hugo’s Office, back aboard the Whispered Curse. A catastrophic storm rocks the boat from the outside, threatening to dash Jack to *pieces* inside his confinement, and dash the Curse to pieces from the outside. Jack can hear his Wild Bunch friends shouting to each other frantically above deck as the storm rages.
In the corner of the Office where the Fanatics died (still seem to lay even now, in fact…) the Hag from Jack’s memories is cutting up purple snakes over one of the medical tables, and then dropping them bit by bit into a familiar, gigantic iron pot. The fire and brew give off a sickeningly green sort of smoke. She notices you become aware of her through telepathy and turns to Jack, smiling widely (like Strike, in a way), teeth blackened or chipped where they aren’t missing. “Making a stew! You should ask for some! ”
Jack feels weakened and drained inside his cage. It’s as though his body and spirit has been broken. He can barely even stand up or move around…as he looks down at his arms, he suddenly realizes he is in full wolf form. He also realizes that the iron pot sits over a fire made of the ship’s deck…the walls are slowly beginning to catch fire on the floor; threatening to climb up the walls. You desperately try to get the Hag’s attention to let her know the ship is catching on fire, but she doesn’t notice; she’s too busy humming, while stirring and seasoning the stew.
Michael is suddenly here with you both and leans over the pot, giving it a couple strong sniffs. “…Smells good! I’m thinking it could use a bit of boiled Mandrake and Basil before we serve it to the crew, though.”
The Hag shakes her head in dismissal at Michael’s request. “Ah! This one isn’t for us though!” The Hag pours a healthy helping of the stew into a wooden bowl, some of it splashing and hissing in the growing fire. The ship is becoming a cinder around you. The green smoke has almost filled the room. The Hag and Michael eagerly leer up at Jack as the Hag hands over a bowl of sickening green gruel: visible in the soup are not only sectioned purple snakes, but a few fingers left over from the fanatics. Fire rises up around all of you as timbers snaps and the smoke thickens. Producing a large wooden spoon, the Hag grins up at Jack as she goes to shove the concoction into his mouth. “Have ye’ tasted the seven seas yet, Jack? Have you? Have you? *HAVE YOU?!?*”
Jack, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
[OAK]
Oak is restless…Zog promises to watch throughout the night, but Oak can’t sleep regardless. He listens to Jack snore, to the river, to Zog quietly step around the campsite observing. He’s been relieved of his duty tonight, but he still doesn’t trust, still can’t relax, still…..
Oak jerks up, feeling as though he’s suddenly fallen down the set of stairs inside the Curse, somehow. He orients himself quickly and warily, looking all around the fire…Zog still sits over here, watching over the group as he props head down against an aspen. Jack is still snoring. Urixes…is suddenly shirtless, and apparently heavily scarred and tattooed, meditating against a tree. And…he is not Urixes. At least, He doesn’t look like him. But then… you’ve spent some time with this man…even the way he “Hmmmm”s to himself as he meditates, you’d be *sure* that is the same person you’ve come to know….
Arno is obviously still up and over the fire taking in the beauty of the night. But the Drow isn’t as you’d remember them….she’s suddenly a much more brooding and looming figure, clutched in black leather and a sharp and deadly assassin’s knife clutched tightly between her fingers. “…so now what, then? We break through and try to make a deal?”
Oak hears a familiar voice. “…We assssk for information and advice *ONLY*. You don’t make dealssss with demonssss, but if you can play on a creature’ssss vanity…” Rax, far younger than you remember him being last, responds to the Not-Arno Drow across the fire.
Jack loses his *entire shit* at the mention of “not playing on a creature’s vanity”. Sitting up and holding a guitar in his lap, (wait, does Jack play guitar?) the boy laughs fully in Rax’s face. Except, it isn’t Jack, either. “Oh, brother! You! YOU! Of all fucking people! You beat this out of some contacts again, Rax?” (Oak has never seen this person before….but he is still somehow incredibly familiar to you, right now)
Rax hisses in petulance. “No one caresss what you zink, you RIDICULOUSSSS jesssster, you are only here becaussse the Captain likesss ssssongssss of glory.” He suddenly stops, looks around with a fright you’ve never seen on Rax’s face before. “…where issss sssshe? Izzz sssshe sssafe?”
The Drow responds, and as she does so she gets up and peers across the fire as, though suddenly and incredibly aware of something…she’s looking *directly* at Oak. “Yeh she’s *always* fine,…and that’s all fine and good…but who’s ZIS ONE, then?” Everyone stops their discussion to turn and look…now, they’re ALL staring at Oak. Zog is nowhere to be seen. A sudden howl from the trees cuts out the fire, and Oak is left in the cold dark, surrounded and in immediate danger…they’re at your legs, now…
Oak, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
Urixes peruses the items in the trunk, but ultimately decides against making any purchases. Instead he sits in quiet reflection, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the relative feeling of safety that it provides.
Urixes wakes up in wonderful shape. In fact, it's probably *the best sleep he has had in years*… he stretches in the sight of a beautiful morning sun, with dew-dappled leaves all around him. Urixes assists the Wild Bunch in getting ready in the morning, (silently taking in and gathering strength from the group’s laughter and natural rapport). Zog prepares some morning leftovers on the fire (and then, immediately and rather abruptly, disappears into some trees, never to be seen again here…) as the Wild Bunch sits around the morning reprieve: comrades together, and preparing for the day:
“The falls are gonna be a problem,” a gruff and scruffy Oak says to the group. Behind him, the gentle winds whip the trees and shadows…the shapes of the darkness amongst the trees VERY slowly turn into familiar tentacles, but JUST for Urixes eyes…. The Wild Bunch doesn’t seem to notice it in the least.
Jack has leftovers in his mouth, and he is currently trying to feed Mister Fusspot from a Wooden Spoon, as Fusspot attempts to *BITE* the meat from off that same spoon, and also Jack’s tongue, and occasionally just right out of Jack’s mouth. Jack replies cheerfully to Oak’s problem, as he usually does. “..we’ll handle it! We *always* do! Right, Uri…(*urgh!*)”(Jack turns to Urixes for support, but before he can finish his sentence, him and Mister Fusspot are in contention over one of the spitted bits of meat… but something only Urixes sees is that together, a few seconds later, the Dark Tentacles rise behind them, to claim them, and drag them down into the muck. Jack and Mister Fusspot suddenly disappear from here…Arno and Oak, Strike waking suddenly behind them, argue over the cause. Urixes attempts to make his voice heard, but finds he cannot speak…or maybe, that they just cannot hear you….)
One by one, *silently*, Urixes failingly attempts to convince the Wild Bunch there is a monster around the campfire; and one by one, the shadows around the camp rise up to claim them regardless…until only Urixies, and Mister Fusspot remains…..he stands alone with the bird next to the fire, looking up at the stars and sky, wringing his hands in hopeless defiance as the sounds of the ocean crash in, but then….
Urixes is immediately and *inexplicably* somewhere else…a different place, a different time, but both FAR TOO familiar. Someone, female, is guiding you grabbed by the wrist forward now, running *full sprint* with you together down a glowing hall…running somewhere with you hand in hand, down a pulsing and breathing corridor, in a Strange Place…
“He’s still here, of course! Of course, you haven’t seen each other, in awhile!” The hand Urixes finds himself holding is a familiar place; comfortable, enticing…but also slightly repulsive, like putting your hand into a glove filled with maggots. You and the girl from the Dream both come upon a giant...[SOMETHING STRANGE] , and within it…
“He’ll understand! *He’s* been here forever! If you just explain to him…we can be together! You just…” the demon girl gives you a familiar smile, before she *explodes* into a sudden *cloud* of light. The embalmed creature behind her, entombed behind glass...looks at Urixes once...and then turns into sudden rain, dissolving into a cleansing green mist inside of the vat... Urixes feels a strange wash of happiness and sorrow come over him
Urixes, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
Arno takes a closer look at the "giant" campsite, delighted by the tricky wizard.
"Oh, but the festival was actually only part two. Do you know of Reynard?" Arno relays their adventure so far, putting particular emphasis on "his" island, on how pretty kitty seems to know too much, and that the governor is a total jerk.
"Any insight into why now? Seems there should be a reason, like a rare eclipse or it's the hundredth year since a something.
Oh, and the not-mice are like, distant cousins, what do they want? Would be nice if we didn't have to kill any. If we can find any."
Zog listens attentively to Arno describing the dinner. “…I’ve never met Reynard. Same the Governor. Heard tell of em’, though.” Zog sits quietly with all this new information for an uncomfortably long period of time, brow furrowed, until Arno almost checks to ask if he’d heard them. Then, rather thoughtfully, he responds: “I don’t believe in coincidences. Inside the last year, Miners in Far Aeston uncovered a statue buried for forever… since the First Times, they say. A legendary treasure map, not seen in the last thirty years, was found along Far Aeston’s shore. Giant, island sized sea creatures, not seen in a Century, have begun appearing even along the Outer Rim of the Expanse. And now, this place is waking up…”
“..Whatever storm is brewing here, it’s *BIG*…and *YOU* lot seem to be right in the middle of it. The Governor didn’t leave a position of power and then burn a valuable asset for nothing. And Baron Reynard and Rax aren’t out here for giggles. There’s a power play happening here…and I think the Dark Glen might hold the key to some of the answers.”
Zog is highly surprised at Arno’s take on the Chameleons. Arno’s non-violent approach (as well as the mention of distant cousins) has him a bit thrown for the first time. “Hmmrph. Well, from what I know of them, they’re more likely to find YOU…but as I understand it, they originally come from the Gate through the Dark Glen…the Keeper’s domain. They’re how she…keeps an eye on things. The ones in the forest are usually just babies, pups really; learning about our realm. They’re as like to try to MATE with you as EAT you, but good luck explaining that to them. Pipes that you met already, and the other more grown Chameleons, usually find a victim and catch a ride off here to elsewhere.” [ARNO’S NIGHTMARE]
Arno is in the shape of Mister Fusspot, perched just outside the Governor’s Room aboard the Whispered Curse, subtly attempting to peer in and listen:
The Governor is brushing Constance’s hair. She sits across his lap, and Pretty Kitty sits across hers.
“Gonna have to get her fixed here soon,” The Governor says lovingly to his daughter and pet. “Looks like the girl’s gone and got herself with child.”
“Oh Daddy,” Constance says in amusement, “You’ll embarrass her!” It’s true though; you can see tiny lizard paws *jabbing* out from underneath Pretty Kitty’s belly. Pretty Kitty herself looks absolutely miserable; most unpleased with the situation.
The Governor brushes his daughter’s hair, grinning; an eerie light seems to reflect off of his glasses. He looks far scarier with a smile than he has *ever* been with his scowl: “…they WILL be delicious though, once she hatches…”
Constance chuckles. “We can’t EAT the dirty things, Daddy.” Constance goes to stroke Pretty Kitty…Arno finds themself stroked behind the ear, harder, and then harder, and then HARDER. Constance drives her nails into Arno’s skull as they sit astride her lap, talons digging in until blood begins to seep out. Arno *IS* Pretty Kitty now…they always have been. Arno tries to escape, but Constance whispers a command, and their legs go out from under them…they sit back down. The family cuddles pleasantly aboard ship, Arno’s screams contained forever within them by the spell that binds them…
Arno, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4)
"Well, luckily the eye of a storm is the calmest part. I look forward to the rest of our journey being nice and smooth." It is unclear if Arno is using sarcasm or not.
"They are very distant cousins [Arno changes to half orc, then rak'ta, then half-elf], I believe, but if they have minds they can usually be reasoned with. Even the buffalo herd comes to an uneasy truce with the wolves, learning to balance between the two."
Everyone awakens after a rather awful and bizarre night’s sleep to find that Zog had just stoked the fire before leaving you all. The brusque Wizard could not be bothered to say goodbye, but he has left some leftovers here for you all, spitted by the fire. [From all the Good Eats yesterday evening and this morning, everyone gets Advantage of their first Roll today]
[Oak can add a 2 to his Charisma Score. Urixes, having found strange comfort in the creature during his slumber, can now RP Mister Fusspot the same as Jack or Arno. Mister Fusspot’s wing is now *fully* healed- he can be found hiding in Jack’s new Helmet when not in use by one of you. (It can be assumed the Little Guy also had some bad dreams last night). Finally, Arno’s roll of 1 yesterday at the Dam manifests itself subtly inside Arno and Strike: as a rapidly growing Tapeworm. They probably won’t notice it for a few days. Arno and Strike will require additional rations on the trip, and eventual treatment, as the creature seems to be growing abnormally fast…]
Geth roll 2d4 for Bad Dreams, Man (Psychic Damage-Oak)
The morning rain is heavy and quick to come on: it almost *immediately* puts out the campfire if it isn’t maintained or covered. Soon enough, your party becomes slowly drenched, and needs to get out of the open to stay warm. It’s only a few miles downriver, before you come to the falls…
OOC: You’re arrived above the Falls. It’s raining. Visibility is low. Everything about this area has become *incredibly* more difficult in the rain. What does your group do? Please consult with each other to decide: Jack sees at least four ways to get down from here:
1. Rappelling Down (this option would involve dropping your kayak down the falls by itself)
2. Climbing down the Left Face (this option would involve dropping your kayak down the falls by itself)
3. Shooting the Falls
4. Climbing down the Right Face (this option is also treacherous)
"This isn't my kind of water," Urixes says, peering uncomfortably over the falls. "What is the best option here? Can we perhaps rig something to lower the kayaks?"
"Oh boy, breakfast. I'm starving, I'm as hungry as...well as Jack."
At the falls:
"Some days you just wish you were a wizard. But, I've got quite a bit of rope, and we have trees here. We can tie the kayaks on, and lower them, then one of ourselves, then lower another kayak, and on. I'll be the last one, and I'll just turn into a spider and walk down. Just don't loose your grip on the rope."
OCC: I can change into a giant wolf spider, though I'm doubtful 12 str is enough to carry anyone. Perhaps I can give support and give advantage on the inevitable rappel checks we'll need to make? Either way, stick feet should make the climb down easy.
Jack pokes his head out of his sleeping bag with a grunt. That was some dream... he gives it a minute, then figures out how his now-human limbs are tangled up with each other and the bag before undoing the limb Christmas lights and crawling out of the tent. That was a miserable nigh-oooh, leftovers!
He brings back something's rib and offers it to the miserable-looking Fusspot, "Huh, what's up with you today? Nom noms?" He gives the little guy a quick once-over to make sure he's alright, then shrugs, gives him a pet and goes about helping with the camp disassembly.
Soon they're back on the river and he comments to Arno, "I'm impressed with the amount of food you put away there, you're finally learning how to eat on the trail!" Said with the swagger of a seasoned survivalist that he absolutely is not.
At the falls he peeks over the edge and whistles, "Hoo, not a fun drop. Oh, rig something up? How about we combine our ropes and lower them one by one? Arno could fly down there and undo the ropes, then the rest of us could climb down the sides."
He glances at his kayak, "I'm glad Mister Fusspot seems to have sorted his wing out, he can just fly with Arno..." Oh! "Arno, Arno! Change into a griffon yourself! I bet you'd look adorable together!"
Oak shakes his head as he wakes up, a dull headache accompanying the fleeting memories of a dream.
As the approach the falls, he looks towards the edge and back over their things. Arno has the right idea, in trying to lower things down. "What if I lowered one of you first so you could catch each kayak and then I lower the rest? I can probably scale these rocks and climb myself down but we have to be real careful with the kayaks or else we'll be stuck here."
Jack hums, "Well, in that case, beside the kayaks why not lower everyone else, too, and then you can toss the rope down and climb after us? Oh, actually...!" He is deep in thought, then pulls out Michael's harpoon, 50ft of rope and walks to some trees to try something out.
((OOC: DM question- could we use the Returning Harpoon as an anchor for the rope at the top, then once we've lowered the kayaks and all used it to climb down, trigger it to get the harpoon back and be able to just pull the now-unattached rope down after us? Jack's experimenting with it to see how the enchantment works))
Oak nods. "Yes, I'll lower you all and the kayaks down and use a rope to climb down myself. Worst we'll have is a wasted rope, but it's better than hoping for a good rock climb."
Oak looks around the Falls, trying to identify something sturdy that he could attach a rope to.
Jack returns from his experiments, quietly walking up behind Oak and puts his hand over the barbarian's shoulder, finger-walking it spider-style and going, with his mouth, "Spider spider spider..."
[DM Note: *checks notes…checks notes…double checks notes* Alright…I’m gonna allow it. ALL of it. Because it is literally perfect- you guys just collectively kicked this challenge’s ass. BUT, let it be known that you guys are now very, very wet, so, you know…take that]
The Wild Bunch’s ingenuity and teamwork brings major results in the morning rain. Urixes and Arno quickly work together to rig up Jack's harpoon and a rope around one of the bigger and stronger tree branches above head here. Oak, atop a rock, holds it down within their reach and growls with pride and in appreciation at the ingenuity of this team. He goes to ask Jack if he’d like to volunteer to…but your guy is already nodding his head like a piston, practically PANTING at the thought of being the first to get lowered. He’s almost throwing himself down that rope, the same way you saw him try to kill himself down the Rapids the other day. With a HOOT and a “THIS IS…”, suddenly cut off by the roar of the Falls, the young man drops safely into the waters below….
Mister Fusspot, pumping both wings fully for the first time now, goes to follow him down. Fusspot runs and throws himself off the end of Urixes’s arm, free-falling for a second before his wings begin to beat and he slows his descent, looking back at the lot of you once before he falls out of sight. Once Jack sends up a holler that Fusspot is safe, Oak turns and nods to Urixes and Strike. With more finesse (but maybe slightly less style), the pair one after the other descends the rope down the Falls, to end up together with Jack in the pool at the bottom. Once there, Arno and Oak begin to strategically tie up and lower down the kayaks, using accumulated ropes from everyone’s packs. The crew below makes sure to help guide the rope, draw the kayaks in safely, and then tug the rope twice to let Oak and Arno know they’re ready for another. More than once, Urixes uses an Eldritch tentacle to save a kayak from a sudden slap into rocks, or a badgering landing inside the pool.
Once the last Kayak has been sent down, Arno gently coaxes Oak to be next on the rope. Oak is hesitant to go last…but when he turns back around to tell Arno they should go first, he sees too many legs, and too many happily expectant eyes. Oak warily climbs down the rope…followed later by Arno, in their new and furry form. Soon enough, they plop down into the pool with the rest of you. Jack, making sure everyone is looking before he does so, gives a subtle tug from his wrist, and then expertly jerks his arm back…your collective ropes and Jack’s harpoon fall down into the pool, whole and ready to be collected. Rain continues to pour down.
The group eventually collects all its belongings and its gear. You all suddenly hear a crack of thunder in the distance. As you look around the small valley you’ve landed in, you see distant shapes moving here, amongst the trees…
There is something…maybe somethings, out here in the valley with you. They watched you lower in, and have been keeping a wary eye on the pool. Once your group shows it full strength, they decide now to make a move. You can’t see them yet…can’t hear them quite yet…but you *know* they’re out there… [ROLLING FOR INITIATIVE]
Geth roll 1d20+1 for The Figures in the Mist
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Jack-Attack
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Oak-Around-And-Find-Out
Geth roll 1d20+2 for “Can’t Touch This” Arno
Geth roll 1d20+2 for “The Sweep from the Deep” Urixes
Geth roll 1d20+1 for Strike the Striking
OOC: Alright, I know I already said Owlbear Rodeo, but after trying really hard to get myself to like it for about a week or two (and it’s got some great tokens and other features!), I still end up frustrated and not enjoying making the maps. They're just blocky and boring to me. I have not yet found a more dynamic and adaptable map maker than…my kitchen whiteboard and some Expo markers, so I think I’m gonna be sticking with that (I’ll make some more tokens and get some more markers). I’ll try to make sure to give you guys a good-enough sense of scale, (in this case, 30 feet=3 inches; or the exact distance between Arno and Urixes right now) because if I grid it up all the way, the file becomes too big an image to upload here and also unwieldy to maintain). The Black Circles are Boulders, The Green Circles are Trees, the Brown areas are natural ditches carved in and around here. Shoot me any questions about the area, but at this moment, you don't yet know what is hunting you...
OOC: Ranged attackers can choose to try to hit the shapes within the trees, but they will need to (in addition to the -4 rain penalty) make disadvantage rolls. *As an action*, everyone may make a Perception check (DC 15) to determine the approximate location of one (or maybe more) of your opponents
[Initiative Order- Fight Below the Falls- Round One]
1. Urixes
2. Jack
3. Oak
4. Strike
5. Maalick the Hunter (AC 15)
6. Lewis (AC 13)
7. Clark (AC 13)
6. Arno
Oak will admit that when Arno first turned into a spider, there was a sense of unease about him, one that rankled him a little when Jack poked at him about it. He said nothing.
As they stood in the valley, however, a different kind of unease blanketed him, the kind that you felt in the back of your neck as someone watched you.
"Keep your voice down Jack" Oak says softly, "Find them that's watching us." Oak steps ahead of the group slightly as he peers into the mist.
The Hunter and his Pets are huge, but this is their territory, and they have the benefit of cover and the rain, as well as the roar from the Falls. They were creeping in slowly, ready to get the jump on you just now, but Arno’s many eyes manage to see many things…
Strike hikes his shoulders inside of his chainmail. He raises his shield into a defensive position, and begins to channel a spell through his Quarterstaff. "I'll follow your lead, but zink it'sss besssst if I ssstay near za water...try to nip at zere heelssss." He follows Urixes's lead off to the right but instead of seeking cover glides out into the water a bit, attempting to draw out your pursuers
[The Wild Bunch has been *Blessed*; add a d4 to Saving Throws and Damage Rolls]
OOC: Jack and Oak still have movement and an action. After the Forest Troll and the Worgs take their turn, Arno gets their movement and an action
Following Arno's instructions Jack finally spots their pursuers, "Oh, company!" He goes to grab his longbow, looks up at the sky, then shakes his head and grabs his rapier instead, flipping his wolf helm down and muttering something about the weather.
He starts making his way along the water's edge towards A and takes a dodge action.
((OOC: Do ranged rolls still have a disadvantage or was that only before Arno pointed them out? Oh, I also forgot we had advantage on our first roll today, do we still have that?))
OOC: Ranged attacks no longer have disadvantage (was using the rules for Invisibility), *but* they do still take -4 on roll due to the rain (for your enemies as well). Everyone in the party still had advantage on their first roll today!
Oak moves around to his right, moving towards one of the beasts that has appeared. Setting his feet, he grips his sword tightly and prepares himself for the creature's advance.
OOC:Oak's right is left on the map. Preparing a reaction here for when the Worg gets in melee, Oak swings at it.
The creatures hiding in the mist at once seem to understand that their ruse is up, and then at once all *dash* into combat, grey shapes slipping between the rain and trees...the Worg near Jack and Urixes (Lewis-A), digs itself between rock and tree, baring teeth and claws up at the group, as if daring a challenger to confront him. The other (Clark-B) takes on Oak's challenge with a snarl, and rushes in with a howl as Oak takes his swing...
Geth roll 1d20+5 for Oak (Reaction Attack)
Geth roll 1d10+5 for Oak (Damage)
Maalick himself jogs in to watch his pups, hanging back by the river warily. He is *easily* twelve feet tall, the biggest Troll you've probably ever seen...and he doesn't look like your typical dumb giant. Pulling ajavelin the size and density of a baseball bat from a quiver on his back, he cleverly begins attempting to weaken his quarry for the kill, making an expert shot in the rain...
Geth roll 1d20+4 for Giant Javelin (Arno)
Geth roll 2d6+3 for Javelin Damage (piercing-Arno)
Posts
"Um. Do you do discounts?"
[Jack receives one Moonkissed Flower]
Later that night when everyone's asleep the upside-down helm is acting as Mister Fusspot's bed.
Oak looks over Jack's shoulder at the chest, but nothing draws his interest, so he doesn't bother sifting through it as Jack ends up agreeing to a deal to pick up a helm. It was an interesting look, but didn't take much thought to understand why Jack fancied it.
"We 'ppreciate the help Zog. Rax ain't good stuck as you could tell."
As the others get settled in and finish up their dealings with Zog, Oak pulls out the book that the Captain gave him and starts reading through it, occasionally looking up at the various party members as he reads certain passages, nodding slightly here and there.
Geth, roll 1d30 for It's a Surprise
[JACK]
In the corner of the Office where the Fanatics died (still seem to lay even now, in fact…) the Hag from Jack’s memories is cutting up purple snakes over one of the medical tables, and then dropping them bit by bit into a familiar, gigantic iron pot. The fire and brew give off a sickeningly green sort of smoke. She notices you become aware of her through telepathy and turns to Jack, smiling widely (like Strike, in a way), teeth blackened or chipped where they aren’t missing. “Making a stew! You should ask for some! ”
Jack feels weakened and drained inside his cage. It’s as though his body and spirit has been broken. He can barely even stand up or move around…as he looks down at his arms, he suddenly realizes he is in full wolf form. He also realizes that the iron pot sits over a fire made of the ship’s deck…the walls are slowly beginning to catch fire on the floor; threatening to climb up the walls. You desperately try to get the Hag’s attention to let her know the ship is catching on fire, but she doesn’t notice; she’s too busy humming, while stirring and seasoning the stew.
Michael is suddenly here with you both and leans over the pot, giving it a couple strong sniffs. “…Smells good! I’m thinking it could use a bit of boiled Mandrake and Basil before we serve it to the crew, though.”
The Hag shakes her head in dismissal at Michael’s request. “Ah! This one isn’t for us though!” The Hag pours a healthy helping of the stew into a wooden bowl, some of it splashing and hissing in the growing fire. The ship is becoming a cinder around you. The green smoke has almost filled the room. The Hag and Michael eagerly leer up at Jack as the Hag hands over a bowl of sickening green gruel: visible in the soup are not only sectioned purple snakes, but a few fingers left over from the fanatics. Fire rises up around all of you as timbers snaps and the smoke thickens. Producing a large wooden spoon, the Hag grins up at Jack as she goes to shove the concoction into his mouth. “Have ye’ tasted the seven seas yet, Jack? Have you? Have you? *HAVE YOU?!?*”
Jack, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
[OAK]
Oak jerks up, feeling as though he’s suddenly fallen down the set of stairs inside the Curse, somehow. He orients himself quickly and warily, looking all around the fire…Zog still sits over here, watching over the group as he props head down against an aspen. Jack is still snoring. Urixes…is suddenly shirtless, and apparently heavily scarred and tattooed, meditating against a tree. And…he is not Urixes. At least, He doesn’t look like him. But then… you’ve spent some time with this man…even the way he “Hmmmm”s to himself as he meditates, you’d be *sure* that is the same person you’ve come to know….
Arno is obviously still up and over the fire taking in the beauty of the night. But the Drow isn’t as you’d remember them….she’s suddenly a much more brooding and looming figure, clutched in black leather and a sharp and deadly assassin’s knife clutched tightly between her fingers. “…so now what, then? We break through and try to make a deal?”
Oak hears a familiar voice. “…We assssk for information and advice *ONLY*. You don’t make dealssss with demonssss, but if you can play on a creature’ssss vanity…” Rax, far younger than you remember him being last, responds to the Not-Arno Drow across the fire.
Jack loses his *entire shit* at the mention of “not playing on a creature’s vanity”. Sitting up and holding a guitar in his lap, (wait, does Jack play guitar?) the boy laughs fully in Rax’s face. Except, it isn’t Jack, either. “Oh, brother! You! YOU! Of all fucking people! You beat this out of some contacts again, Rax?” (Oak has never seen this person before….but he is still somehow incredibly familiar to you, right now)
Rax hisses in petulance. “No one caresss what you zink, you RIDICULOUSSSS jesssster, you are only here becaussse the Captain likesss ssssongssss of glory.” He suddenly stops, looks around with a fright you’ve never seen on Rax’s face before. “…where issss sssshe? Izzz sssshe sssafe?”
The Drow responds, and as she does so she gets up and peers across the fire as, though suddenly and incredibly aware of something…she’s looking *directly* at Oak. “Yeh she’s *always* fine,…and that’s all fine and good…but who’s ZIS ONE, then?” Everyone stops their discussion to turn and look…now, they’re ALL staring at Oak. Zog is nowhere to be seen. A sudden howl from the trees cuts out the fire, and Oak is left in the cold dark, surrounded and in immediate danger…they’re at your legs, now…
Oak, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
[URIXES]
“The falls are gonna be a problem,” a gruff and scruffy Oak says to the group. Behind him, the gentle winds whip the trees and shadows…the shapes of the darkness amongst the trees VERY slowly turn into familiar tentacles, but JUST for Urixes eyes…. The Wild Bunch doesn’t seem to notice it in the least.
Jack has leftovers in his mouth, and he is currently trying to feed Mister Fusspot from a Wooden Spoon, as Fusspot attempts to *BITE* the meat from off that same spoon, and also Jack’s tongue, and occasionally just right out of Jack’s mouth. Jack replies cheerfully to Oak’s problem, as he usually does. “..we’ll handle it! We *always* do! Right, Uri…(*urgh!*)”(Jack turns to Urixes for support, but before he can finish his sentence, him and Mister Fusspot are in contention over one of the spitted bits of meat… but something only Urixes sees is that together, a few seconds later, the Dark Tentacles rise behind them, to claim them, and drag them down into the muck. Jack and Mister Fusspot suddenly disappear from here…Arno and Oak, Strike waking suddenly behind them, argue over the cause. Urixes attempts to make his voice heard, but finds he cannot speak…or maybe, that they just cannot hear you….)
One by one, *silently*, Urixes failingly attempts to convince the Wild Bunch there is a monster around the campfire; and one by one, the shadows around the camp rise up to claim them regardless…until only Urixies, and Mister Fusspot remains…..he stands alone with the bird next to the fire, looking up at the stars and sky, wringing his hands in hopeless defiance as the sounds of the ocean crash in, but then….
Urixes is immediately and *inexplicably* somewhere else…a different place, a different time, but both FAR TOO familiar. Someone, female, is guiding you grabbed by the wrist forward now, running *full sprint* with you together down a glowing hall…running somewhere with you hand in hand, down a pulsing and breathing corridor, in a Strange Place…
“He’s still here, of course! Of course, you haven’t seen each other, in awhile!” The hand Urixes finds himself holding is a familiar place; comfortable, enticing…but also slightly repulsive, like putting your hand into a glove filled with maggots. You and the girl from the Dream both come upon a giant...[SOMETHING STRANGE] , and within it…
“He’ll understand! *He’s* been here forever! If you just explain to him…we can be together! You just…” the demon girl gives you a familiar smile, before she *explodes* into a sudden *cloud* of light. The embalmed creature behind her, entombed behind glass...looks at Urixes once...and then turns into sudden rain, dissolving into a cleansing green mist inside of the vat... Urixes feels a strange wash of happiness and sorrow come over him
Urixes, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4))
Geth, roll 1d20+1 for Wisdom Check
Edit:OOC:Womp Womp
Geth, roll 1d20 for Bad Dreams, man
"Oh, but the festival was actually only part two. Do you know of Reynard?" Arno relays their adventure so far, putting particular emphasis on "his" island, on how pretty kitty seems to know too much, and that the governor is a total jerk.
"Any insight into why now? Seems there should be a reason, like a rare eclipse or it's the hundredth year since a something.
Oh, and the not-mice are like, distant cousins, what do they want? Would be nice if we didn't have to kill any. If we can find any."
“..Whatever storm is brewing here, it’s *BIG*…and *YOU* lot seem to be right in the middle of it. The Governor didn’t leave a position of power and then burn a valuable asset for nothing. And Baron Reynard and Rax aren’t out here for giggles. There’s a power play happening here…and I think the Dark Glen might hold the key to some of the answers.”
Zog is highly surprised at Arno’s take on the Chameleons. Arno’s non-violent approach (as well as the mention of distant cousins) has him a bit thrown for the first time. “Hmmrph. Well, from what I know of them, they’re more likely to find YOU…but as I understand it, they originally come from the Gate through the Dark Glen…the Keeper’s domain. They’re how she…keeps an eye on things. The ones in the forest are usually just babies, pups really; learning about our realm. They’re as like to try to MATE with you as EAT you, but good luck explaining that to them. Pipes that you met already, and the other more grown Chameleons, usually find a victim and catch a ride off here to elsewhere.”
[ARNO’S NIGHTMARE]
The Governor is brushing Constance’s hair. She sits across his lap, and Pretty Kitty sits across hers.
“Gonna have to get her fixed here soon,” The Governor says lovingly to his daughter and pet. “Looks like the girl’s gone and got herself with child.”
“Oh Daddy,” Constance says in amusement, “You’ll embarrass her!” It’s true though; you can see tiny lizard paws *jabbing* out from underneath Pretty Kitty’s belly. Pretty Kitty herself looks absolutely miserable; most unpleased with the situation.
The Governor brushes his daughter’s hair, grinning; an eerie light seems to reflect off of his glasses. He looks far scarier with a smile than he has *ever* been with his scowl: “…they WILL be delicious though, once she hatches…”
Constance chuckles. “We can’t EAT the dirty things, Daddy.” Constance goes to stroke Pretty Kitty…Arno finds themself stroked behind the ear, harder, and then harder, and then HARDER. Constance drives her nails into Arno’s skull as they sit astride her lap, talons digging in until blood begins to seep out. Arno *IS* Pretty Kitty now…they always have been. Arno tries to escape, but Constance whispers a command, and their legs go out from under them…they sit back down. The family cuddles pleasantly aboard ship, Arno’s screams contained forever within them by the spell that binds them…
Arno, please roll a Wisdom Check (DC 16) to avoid Psychic Damage (2d4)
"They are very distant cousins [Arno changes to half orc, then rak'ta, then half-elf], I believe, but if they have minds they can usually be reasoned with. Even the buffalo herd comes to an uneasy truce with the wolves, learning to balance between the two."
Geth roll 1d20+5 for save vs nightmare-dc16
Geth roll 2d4 for damage on fail
Everyone awakens after a rather awful and bizarre night’s sleep to find that Zog had just stoked the fire before leaving you all. The brusque Wizard could not be bothered to say goodbye, but he has left some leftovers here for you all, spitted by the fire. [From all the Good Eats yesterday evening and this morning, everyone gets Advantage of their first Roll today]
[Oak can add a 2 to his Charisma Score. Urixes, having found strange comfort in the creature during his slumber, can now RP Mister Fusspot the same as Jack or Arno. Mister Fusspot’s wing is now *fully* healed- he can be found hiding in Jack’s new Helmet when not in use by one of you. (It can be assumed the Little Guy also had some bad dreams last night). Finally, Arno’s roll of 1 yesterday at the Dam manifests itself subtly inside Arno and Strike: as a rapidly growing Tapeworm. They probably won’t notice it for a few days. Arno and Strike will require additional rations on the trip, and eventual treatment, as the creature seems to be growing abnormally fast…]
Geth roll 2d4 for Bad Dreams, Man (Psychic Damage-Oak)
The morning rain is heavy and quick to come on: it almost *immediately* puts out the campfire if it isn’t maintained or covered. Soon enough, your party becomes slowly drenched, and needs to get out of the open to stay warm. It’s only a few miles downriver, before you come to the falls…
OOC: You’re arrived above the Falls. It’s raining. Visibility is low. Everything about this area has become *incredibly* more difficult in the rain. What does your group do? Please consult with each other to decide: Jack sees at least four ways to get down from here:
1. Rappelling Down (this option would involve dropping your kayak down the falls by itself)
2. Climbing down the Left Face (this option would involve dropping your kayak down the falls by itself)
3. Shooting the Falls
4. Climbing down the Right Face (this option is also treacherous)
At the falls:
"Some days you just wish you were a wizard. But, I've got quite a bit of rope, and we have trees here. We can tie the kayaks on, and lower them, then one of ourselves, then lower another kayak, and on. I'll be the last one, and I'll just turn into a spider and walk down. Just don't loose your grip on the rope."
OCC: I can change into a giant wolf spider, though I'm doubtful 12 str is enough to carry anyone. Perhaps I can give support and give advantage on the inevitable rappel checks we'll need to make? Either way, stick feet should make the climb down easy.
He brings back something's rib and offers it to the miserable-looking Fusspot, "Huh, what's up with you today? Nom noms?" He gives the little guy a quick once-over to make sure he's alright, then shrugs, gives him a pet and goes about helping with the camp disassembly.
Soon they're back on the river and he comments to Arno, "I'm impressed with the amount of food you put away there, you're finally learning how to eat on the trail!" Said with the swagger of a seasoned survivalist that he absolutely is not.
At the falls he peeks over the edge and whistles, "Hoo, not a fun drop. Oh, rig something up? How about we combine our ropes and lower them one by one? Arno could fly down there and undo the ropes, then the rest of us could climb down the sides."
He glances at his kayak, "I'm glad Mister Fusspot seems to have sorted his wing out, he can just fly with Arno..." Oh! "Arno, Arno! Change into a griffon yourself! I bet you'd look adorable together!"
This is far more important than the falls.
As the approach the falls, he looks towards the edge and back over their things. Arno has the right idea, in trying to lower things down. "What if I lowered one of you first so you could catch each kayak and then I lower the rest? I can probably scale these rocks and climb myself down but we have to be real careful with the kayaks or else we'll be stuck here."
((OOC: DM question- could we use the Returning Harpoon as an anchor for the rope at the top, then once we've lowered the kayaks and all used it to climb down, trigger it to get the harpoon back and be able to just pull the now-unattached rope down after us? Jack's experimenting with it to see how the enchantment works))
Oak looks around the Falls, trying to identify something sturdy that he could attach a rope to.
The Wild Bunch’s ingenuity and teamwork brings major results in the morning rain. Urixes and Arno quickly work together to rig up Jack's harpoon and a rope around one of the bigger and stronger tree branches above head here. Oak, atop a rock, holds it down within their reach and growls with pride and in appreciation at the ingenuity of this team. He goes to ask Jack if he’d like to volunteer to…but your guy is already nodding his head like a piston, practically PANTING at the thought of being the first to get lowered. He’s almost throwing himself down that rope, the same way you saw him try to kill himself down the Rapids the other day. With a HOOT and a “THIS IS…”, suddenly cut off by the roar of the Falls, the young man drops safely into the waters below….
Mister Fusspot, pumping both wings fully for the first time now, goes to follow him down. Fusspot runs and throws himself off the end of Urixes’s arm, free-falling for a second before his wings begin to beat and he slows his descent, looking back at the lot of you once before he falls out of sight. Once Jack sends up a holler that Fusspot is safe, Oak turns and nods to Urixes and Strike. With more finesse (but maybe slightly less style), the pair one after the other descends the rope down the Falls, to end up together with Jack in the pool at the bottom. Once there, Arno and Oak begin to strategically tie up and lower down the kayaks, using accumulated ropes from everyone’s packs. The crew below makes sure to help guide the rope, draw the kayaks in safely, and then tug the rope twice to let Oak and Arno know they’re ready for another. More than once, Urixes uses an Eldritch tentacle to save a kayak from a sudden slap into rocks, or a badgering landing inside the pool.
Once the last Kayak has been sent down, Arno gently coaxes Oak to be next on the rope. Oak is hesitant to go last…but when he turns back around to tell Arno they should go first, he sees too many legs, and too many happily expectant eyes. Oak warily climbs down the rope…followed later by Arno, in their new and furry form. Soon enough, they plop down into the pool with the rest of you. Jack, making sure everyone is looking before he does so, gives a subtle tug from his wrist, and then expertly jerks his arm back…your collective ropes and Jack’s harpoon fall down into the pool, whole and ready to be collected. Rain continues to pour down.
The group eventually collects all its belongings and its gear. You all suddenly hear a crack of thunder in the distance. As you look around the small valley you’ve landed in, you see distant shapes moving here, amongst the trees…
Geth roll 1d20+1 for The Figures in the Mist
Geth roll 1d20+3 for Jack-Attack
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Oak-Around-And-Find-Out
Geth roll 1d20+2 for “Can’t Touch This” Arno
Geth roll 1d20+2 for “The Sweep from the Deep” Urixes
Geth roll 1d20+1 for Strike the Striking
OOC: Alright, I know I already said Owlbear Rodeo, but after trying really hard to get myself to like it for about a week or two (and it’s got some great tokens and other features!), I still end up frustrated and not enjoying making the maps. They're just blocky and boring to me. I have not yet found a more dynamic and adaptable map maker than…my kitchen whiteboard and some Expo markers, so I think I’m gonna be sticking with that (I’ll make some more tokens and get some more markers). I’ll try to make sure to give you guys a good-enough sense of scale, (in this case, 30 feet=3 inches; or the exact distance between Arno and Urixes right now) because if I grid it up all the way, the file becomes too big an image to upload here and also unwieldy to maintain). The Black Circles are Boulders, The Green Circles are Trees, the Brown areas are natural ditches carved in and around here. Shoot me any questions about the area, but at this moment, you don't yet know what is hunting you...
1. Urixes
2. Jack
3. Oak
4. Strike
5. Maalick the Hunter (AC 15)
6. Lewis (AC 13)
7. Clark (AC 13)
6. Arno
Geth roll 1d20+5 for see the shadowthings
Geth, roll 1d20+3 for I Spy With Jack's Glowing Eye
OOC: Casting False Life on myself, then moving to hide behind the nearest boulder if I can get that far.
Geth, roll 1d4+4 for Temp HP
As they stood in the valley, however, a different kind of unease blanketed him, the kind that you felt in the back of your neck as someone watched you.
"Keep your voice down Jack" Oak says softly, "Find them that's watching us." Oak steps ahead of the group slightly as he peers into the mist.
Geth, roll 1d20 for Jeeper Creepers
The Hunter:
His Pets:
Current Locations:
[The Wild Bunch has been *Blessed*; add a d4 to Saving Throws and Damage Rolls]
OOC: Jack and Oak still have movement and an action. After the Forest Troll and the Worgs take their turn, Arno gets their movement and an action
He starts making his way along the water's edge towards A and takes a dodge action.
((OOC: Do ranged rolls still have a disadvantage or was that only before Arno pointed them out? Oh, I also forgot we had advantage on our first roll today, do we still have that?))
OOC:Oak's right is left on the map. Preparing a reaction here for when the Worg gets in melee, Oak swings at it.
Geth roll 1d20+5 for Oak (Reaction Attack)
Geth roll 1d10+5 for Oak (Damage)
Maalick himself jogs in to watch his pups, hanging back by the river warily. He is *easily* twelve feet tall, the biggest Troll you've probably ever seen...and he doesn't look like your typical dumb giant. Pulling ajavelin the size and density of a baseball bat from a quiver on his back, he cleverly begins attempting to weaken his quarry for the kill, making an expert shot in the rain...
Geth roll 1d20+4 for Giant Javelin (Arno)
Geth roll 2d6+3 for Javelin Damage (piercing-Arno)