Erista just smiles, missing the glance entirely in her relief at having successfully moved the topic along to something she just doesn't understand at all, rather than something she could picture all too well.

"Thank you," she replies.  "I'll tell her you said so.  So, um, compact... I know compacting means squeezing things in," she assures him, fully prepared to demonstrate her mother's education.  After all, this reflects not only on her mother, but also on her grandmother, who provided said education!

"Is that how time started, then?" she guesses.  "Everything all compacted up real tight in the Great Compact, and then time starts and it all burst out into stars and stuff?"

Tursach frowns as he listens to Erista, but his expression clears as comprehension dawns on him, "Ah, no, in this case the word 'compact' refers to a treaty or agreement."

"When the world was created, all was chaos and disorder, until all of the gods agreed to be bound by Time so that events, once they had occurred, could not be made to have not occurred.  For instance, if you spill milk on the floor, you can clean it up, but that does not make it so that it never happened."

Then he chuckles, as he adds, "Though it does allow you to tell your mother that it never happened."

One word can mean two completely different things ... these civilised folk are mad !  The moreso that one could even contemplate lying to one's mother !

Still, the man does have three pheasant feathers in his hat, which excuses a lot, and at least he seems to be keeping the small woman entertained, leaving Aarnr to worry about more lofty matters.

"Food," he decides.  If they're staying here for the night, he'd rather be fighting undead on a full stomach.

Sitting back, Eilieen considers the spiders.  They might be a problem...best that she prepare accordingly*.  Also, there will Erista's dress to consider.  She shoots a fond look at the sorceress, having a fascinating (if condescending) discussion with the man they have met, and wonders when Erista's patience will slip.

"I'm not half pretty enough to be Erista's mother, to boot," she whispers to Colwyn in passing.

"Yes, food, Aarnr."  That said with a small sigh.  "Get the fire going, I'll start preparing the dinner."  It's that or let Aarnr cook, which leads to some appalling choices.  For a long time, Eilieen posed herself the question: is it possible that Aarnr cooks poorly on purpose, to get out of the chore?  After a while, though, she came to the conclusion that while Colwyn might carry that proper deviousness, it's totally absent in Aarnr.

* _{will be changing spells of the day}.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:18, Tue 22 Jan 2019.

Cooking might not be Aarnr's forte¹, but nobody could deny his prowess when it comes to starting fires big or small ... and even in this dank, dreadful and diseased wilderness, so nearly reminiscent of his homeland, he's determined to give it his best shot.

Uncharacteristically looking ahead to the next meal or perhaps the one after (or more likely it being just a passing whim inspired by the pheasant feathers), the priest intends to set traps this night, hoping to catch something either edible or killable.


¹ Aarnr's answer to the question 'how long you cook it for ?' is 'until it's dead'.  :>

Colwyn waves a finger at Tursach.  "I's been 'earin' 'bout that.  My ol' Mam was tellin' me 'bout it... 'bout 'ow everythin' were made ter agree ter the rules of Time, so as the world'd work proper.  She 'eard it from a priest of... "  The rogue snaps his fingers repeatedly, then exclaims, "Oghma!"

"But 'e were tellin' 'er as 'ow most gods 'as this story from way back.  Even so long as some 'as fergotted it."

Tursach nods, "This is indeed so."

"Huh."  Erista mulls this over for a little while.  "I have sometimes wondered why I can't un-spill milk," she admits.  "They really all agreed to that?  I bet some of them wished they could take that back," she laughs.

Tursach chuckles, "I imagine they would, if they could.  But the compact allows them to influence the world because they are bound by Time, just as it is.  If they withdraw from the compact, they lose their ability to act within Time, which means they can not affect the world."

The priest snorts.  Probably derisively, but many and varied are the grunts and snarls and other noises that issue from Aarnr at regular intervals, so it's no easy matter to determine what any particular sound means on a given occasion ... though given his nature, it'd be a safe wager that he's generally very disagreeable.

"That's a froggin' crock of oxen-dung," he says wisely.  "You ever heard of two gods agreein' on anythin'?!!  On the highest authority¹ I'm froggin' tellin' ye that the gods just say that to save froggin' face.  This 'compact' ... what actually froggin' happened was that Bowbe threatened to beat up every froggin' last one of the puttocks if they didn't send the seasons on time so the food animals get to the huntin' grounds when they froggin' should !"


¹ Aarnr's grandmother

Tursach nods.  "Yes, everybody has their own version of what happened, though not all of them remember it."

Any further discussion is interrupted by a hissing roar echoing through the forest from the north.  The source is not immediately visible, though the sound seems to startle Tursach's horse,

The traveller moves to calm his beast.

"He's not incorrect," Eilieen muses from where she sits by the fire, carefully beginning the laborious task of cookery.  "Our new friend, that is.  The Zadasthan Church tells much the same story...though rarely, and without much care to its import.  Although, to be honest the story is vague enough that Aarnr might have the right of it as well."  Her brow furrows.  Perhaps, given the Zadasthan predilection toward focusing on specific aspects of their goddess, Eilieen might give the story another look.  It might have more weight than she was taught.

Then comes the interruption.

"Oh dear," the priestess whispers, setting the pot aside and taking up her spear.  "Could that be a wyavarenn?"  Her grip tightens as she recalls Fergus's near-death experience with the vile lizard...newt...thing.  Standing, she readies herself, considering her prayers.

The sound comes again.  Whatever it is, it seems large, and not overly far away.  This time the noise is followed by the splintering of wood.

Colwyn looks into the forest to the north.  "It's bein' over that way.  We should be goin' that way I's reckonin'."  He indicates a more southerly direction.

Tursach reaches into the back of his cart and pulls out an ornately carved wooden staff tipped with a red crystal.  Using the untipped end he starts to scrape a circular design in the earth around his feet...

"Oh dear," Eilieen mumbles, almost by rote.  "Colwyn, perhaps you should move that way a tad...seeing as whatever it is seems to be on its way here."  That will leave the rogue ready to attack from safety with his bow.  Hearing the wood crack, remembering the giant that slew Fergus, she shivers once before drawing herself up straight.  "If we plan on facing what Rappan Athuk will bring, we must hone ourselves before arrival."

Lips tight, she readies her spear.  "Erista….."  Really, there's little point in inquiring if the diminutive mage will hide; she probably has already disappeared, ready to send forth her devastating magics.  Their new 'friend', on the other hand....

"Interesting," Eilieen breathes as Tursach draws a symbol on the ground beneath his feet.  Sadly, she knows nothing of such things.

Aarnr is impressed indeed.  He'd barely expressed more than a vague wish that these camping grounds be overrun by terrible monsters and now here they are !  He must remember not to thank Bowbe at all, though - it would not do for his god to think him in anyway grateful.  And depending on how it all goes, the priest may well be complaining vociferously about the foe being too few or too small !

Eyeing the fellow with the staff, just in case he proves to be a necromancer of any sort (though the three pheasant feathers make that unlikely), Aarnr draws Fergus's longsword, grasping it firmly in both hands, trying to ascertain the source of the bellowing and roaring that he might place himself squarely in its path.

"Here I am, thou warped swag-bellied skains-mate !" Aarnr yells out.

He wouldn't want them to fail to spot him ...

And Erista, indeed, does not answer Eilieen, already hurrying across their little clearing to some of the more shadowy areas on the southern edge.

The thing that finally crashes out from among the trees is huge, and vaguely serpentine.  It moves with its snakelike head raised, its eyes glowing like yellow lamps as it catches sight of the group before it.  Only the two arms folded upon its chest destroy the illusion that it is a vast serpent.

Its scales are the colour of dull iron.

It opens its mouth to roar a challenge, and reveals venom dripping fangs as large as shortswords...

OOC: Initiative rolls would be good, for anybody stupid foolhardy insane Aarnr bold enough to attack this monstrous creature.

My, that is a froggin' biggun !  Aarnr momentarily stands still, almost disbelieving his luck ... then he shudders as the mantle of his god settles upon him and reason goes off for a quiet lie down.

With an incomprehensible cry spraying past his lips the priest starts forwards, building up quite a good turn of speed as he charges towards the giant snake-thing, proud Valkyria, sword bourne by both Fergus and Bilfro (who while much favoured by the gods are now suspiciously dead or missing) held high above his head in a white-knuckled, two-handed grip that promises so much in the way of death and destruction to anything in its path ...

Drawing his heavy sword, Arkan reaches out with his left hand clenched into a fist.

Then, uttering a brief phrase, he spreads the empty hand, palm towards the creature.  Two crackling bolts of mystical energy fly from his hand and follow an erratic looping course towards their target.

Colwyn does the first thing that springs to mind - he ducks behind a tree, in the hopes that whatever is coming won't see him before Aarnr kills it.  Curiosity gets the better of him after a few heartbeats and he peers around the bole, still trying to remain hidden.

He really wishes he hadn't bothered.

"Dragon!" he mutters, "It's bein' a bloody dragon!  We's all bein' dead."

On the bright side, maybe the beast will choke on Aarnr...

Tursach scrapes a mystical symbol in the dirt at his feet, even as the huge reptillian monster slithers into view.  There is a pulse of bluish light, and a glowing circle appears briefly around the man...

Eilieen's fascination with their new friend's activities is broken as the newcomer shrieks angrily.  She aims her spear at the thing, though it seems a futile gesture. 

A little way off, Arkan casts a spell which sends two bolts of lambent energy swirling towards the foe.  Both strike with flares of red light, bringing an outraged hiss from the creature.  A hiss which transforms into a kind of gurgling sound as the monster spews forth a fuming blast of black ichor.

Arkan tries to throw himself clear, to no avail, as he finds himself doused in the reeking stuff.  He clothing starts to burn and rot almost immediately, as does his skin...  The air is filled with a strong smell of vinegar, which stings the eyes and burns at the throat...

Colwyn, true to his nature, seeks cover.  A place from which to attack with sudden and deadly intent.  Or, simply, a place to cower in terror.

Charging forward, with the fire of his god in his eyes and a thousand curses pouring from his lips, Aarnr strikes at the wyrm, only to see Valkyria glance off the beast's scaled hide.  The creatur twists its head down, and laughs at its assailant, snarling [Language unknown: "Re ati!"] at him.

The arms folded against the things chest lash out and rake razor-sharp talons across Aarnr's chest... 

Erista is, of course, nowhere to be seen...


OOC: This is going well.  Note for future reference - never remind the GM that he has a random encounter table laying about.

Combatant         Init
Tursach            20
Eilieen            18
Arkan              14
Dragon thing       14
Colwyn Akbar        8
Aarnr Foultongue    6
Erista              -

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Good
Arkan :           Hurt
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good

Erista quickly calculates the odds of Aarnr backing off in the face near certain death, but having been quite well educated by her mother indeed, counts to zero in almost no time at all.  In light of which, she focuses on him, wiggling her fingers.  "巨大的增长" she intones - but softly, so as not to attract too much attention.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:40, Mon 11 Feb 2019.

"Zadastha's mercy!" Eilieen cries, immediately abandoning any pretext of fight to sprint for Arkan.  As she runs, the priestess intones a prayer to her goddess.  "Holy Zadastha, spare this man the suffering of the world, heal his woundsandsalvehishurtsmayitbeso!" she finishes in a rush as she approaches, pale pink light igniting about her palms.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:14, Tue 12 Feb 2019.

Arkan bites back a scream!  Every inch of his skin feels like its burning, and the acidic stink makes it hard for him to breathe.  Worse, his eyes are watering so badly that he can hardly see.

Still, he doesn't really need to see for what he intends.

Seated safely behind his tree, Colwyn has a sudden epiphany... if Aarnr dies in this battle, then likely everybody will die.  Which means that everybody will need to fight to make sure that doesn't happen.

It should be safe enough, from a distance.

The rogue unslings his bow and quickly nocks an arrow...

Tursach, the group's new-found ally, braces himself and raises his staff over his head as he utters an incantation that sounds almost like the howling of a storm wind.

The trees nearby start to sway wildly, and the sky darkens as thick black clouds boil into existence...