Valthur staggers back from the beast as it erupts. It is all he can do to keep from throwing up in the shower of blood and bile. He remembers stories from his grandfather of gruesome beasts encountered deep below the Hammerfist Holds. None, he imagines, could have ever been as vile as the defeated remains before him.

Eoni's call brings Valthur back to the present day. He rushes to Aldara and with a grunt, attempts to free her from underneath her former steed.

Taerix urges his pony back to its feet, and walks it over to Aldara and her dead horse. If there's a way to get the pony to pull on the horse's equipment in a way that could help free Aldara, he will do his best to make it happen.

"Eoni, can you help her with your magic?"

 Marklin stood guard as the others went to help Aldara.

"I could pray for her recovery," Eoni grunted as she strained once more to free her leg from beneath her own horse, "if I could reach her."

Gaining some leverage against the horse with her free leg, she managed to wriggle out from beneath her horse and the sucking swamp muck.  Shaking free of her jacket eaten through by the acid, she stumbled toward the others, sloshing her way across the fen.

OOC: Eoni Daflin rolled 1 using 1d20.  Strength Check (8) Free her leg, again.

The adventurers are able to stabilize Aldara, though the same cannot be said for all but Taerix's pony. Unfortunately, the dragon-beast's acidic breath weapon proved too much for them to endure. Dragging the fallen mounts aside, the group carries Aldara to dry ground atop an  islet immediately west of the horse-sized owl sprawled between two gnarled trees.

There, sitting at the highest point of the islet, and upwind of the slain giant owl, keen-eyed members spot a rusty iron coffer amidst a sea of stubby, broad-leafed brush.

After dragging the fallen horses through the mire and helping get Aldara to higher ground, Valthur takes a seat and disgustedly wipes the combination of sweat and slime from his brow. "This swamp is cursed," he concludes. "I'd rather spend the rest of my life in that god-forsaken tree trunk by Drellin's Ferry than spend another hour here."

He swats at an unknown insect in front of his face and thinks about the rotting owl still visible in the marsh below. "Remember that owl that we scared away for the Grigs? I wonder if that's a friend of his rotting in the swamp down there."

"Avandra's mercy bring you strength and succor in your time of need," Eoni intoned as she tried to remold the loose, acid eaten skin of the sorceress's face back into place.

OOC: Eoni Daflin rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  Cure light wounds, Acidic Aldara.

Aldara stirs uncomfortably as her face de-degloves itself, and any broken bones half-ass themselves together.

Well, she's unconscious.  Nothing from her mouth.

Aldara regains consciousness as soon as Eoni casts the cure wounds spell.

"Hold still," Eoni said gently to the sorceress as she began to stir, "you're going to be all right."

The Sister took a deep breath and began once more to repair the damage done by the swamp beast.

"May Avandra's Grace sooth your suffering and bring peace to your heart," she intoned as she worked across the woman's exposed, acid eaten, flesh.

OOC: Eoni Daflin rolled 3 using 1d6+1.  Cure light wounds, Acidic Aldara #2.

Valthur's spirits rise slightly when he sees Aldara awaken. He tries not to stare at the mangled state of her face, but finds it difficult to ignore. With a dogged effort, he peels his attention from the revived spell-caster and scans his surroundings.

It is then that he spots the rusty coffer in the brush. "Take a look at this, Marklin," he calls while eagerly scrambling over to his finding. "What do you suppose is in here?"

Buoyed by hopes of treasure and with little regard for safety, he attempts to open the strongbox.

Aldara does jerk slightly as she awakens, her mouth opening in a silent scream, but Eoni manages to persuade her to remain still.  All that she can think at the moment is something along the lines of "Pain.  Hurt.  Eoni.  Eoni stop hurt."; all she can remember is frightened horses, a gout of really strong and hot bile, falling on her rump, horses falling dangerously close to her, and then nothing.  She feels the uncomfortable itchiness of skin healing itself on top of any pain and knitting-together she might still be experiencing, and just lets the travelling priestess work her miracles.

The iron-banded coffer is heavily rusted, its lock giving no resistance as Valthur pries open the large chest. What greets the Dwarf's eyes can only be described as amazing, the largest cache of treasure the adventurers have found thus far, a hoard worthy of a dragon to be sure!

Jam=packed within the sturdy coffer is a bed of perhaps twenty thousand copper, electrum and gold coins, laid atop which are a fine suit of chainmail, a marvelous round shield with intricate inlay and filigree work, and equally impressive battle axe crafted by what appears to be a master artisan, and a silken bag containing two gems, two potions, and two scroll cases!

"That may be all I can do today," Eoni said to the sorceress.  "Just sit up slowly."

She looked around at the others and saw they weren't nearly so dire as Aldara, except perhaps the last frightened pony.  The loss of the others saddened her greatly but there was nothing that could have been done.

"Taerix," she said, calling to the halfling, "let me see to your pony.  How badly is he injured?"

"I'm not exactly sure... he may be in better shape than I am." Taerix walks the pony over to the cleric.

Sarah's eyes grow very wide as she gazes upon the large quantity of coins.

 Marklin had halped Valthur drag the chest from where it had rested. Once the lid was open, Marklin found his jaw hanging open. But then reality intervened,and the warrior shook his head to clear it from the visions of the fine things they all could purchase. " Right..... Ahem, right now that chest what it holds, be so much weighty junk to us. We need to hide it, and then move on with the task at hand."

Sarah looks again at the chest.  She looks like she really wants to say something, but is reluctant to do so.  Then she says, very softly -- in a voice that is pleading for someone to agree:

"If . . . If we could get it out of here, couldn't we just go somewhere?  Away from this?  And never have to deal with strange monsters and fantastic beasts?  Just . . . go, an' be free, an' live, an' spend our money?"

"Thank you, Eoni.  I will repay your kindness..." Her usual vocalisations are replaced by a harsh, clipped accent.  As she rises she starts, titters, and continues with her more familiar, more pleasant intonations.  "...when the time comes."

She watches the others crowd around their well-earned gains, but turns to the lizard-creature's lifeless body instead.  While the others iron out what to do with their treasures, Aldara steals away to the beast's remains and draws a newer dagger from her boot.

She growls at the head and begins to cut the most prominent teeth out of it.  These find their way into one of her sacks.  Then, she attempts to empty as much of its blood as she can into her spare waterskin.  The teeth would serve as sounvenirs of a sort and reminders of a creature that nearly killed her, and would make fine jewellery.  The blood?  That would (hopefully) catch a tidy sum if presented to the right buyer!

When she is done collecting her grisly trophies, Aldara joins the others, her horrific hands wet and red, and a waterskin on her person also much redder than it was before.  "That wouldn't stop others from suffering, Sarah.  And it might catch up to us." She seems lost in thought for a moment, and then says, "These things always catch up." A hand finds its way to the young woman's shoulder.

Taerix's pony was burned by acid, but is still alive and able to press onward, though certainly unable to haul all that treasure on its own.

Comparing the two, halfling and pony, Eoni considered the pony worse for wear, confused and frightened by the pain.  This wasn't an animal trained for war and she wanted to make what apology she could for it's brethren.

The Sister laid her hands on the ponies blistered flesh and intoned a prayer to Avandra.  "My your suffering be soothed by the Grace of Avandra and your strength be rewarded."

OOC: Eoni Daflin rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  Cure light wounds, pony #3.

Valthur, somewhat awestruck by the sight before him, catches himself almost drooling at the treasure. "We could almost buy an army with this much treasure," he considers. "But you're right, Marklin. We can't carry it through this blasted swamp any better than we could flap our arms and fly. We should take what we can. The gems could fetch a good sum without weighing us down. And Aldara and Eoni could take a look at the scrolls and potions."

He takes a careful look at the chainmail to see if it might fit.

Sarah begins to sob.

Before Aldara can verbally consent to Valthur's suggestion, Sarah begins sobbing.  The mage mouths and nods to Valthur, and uncomfortably squeezes the girl's shoulder.  "I, erm..." She sighs.  "That... Well, I-I could contribute to...help." She pats her shoulder, confident that what she's said was the best possible thing to say.  Completely useful, and reassuring.

Completely oblivious to the sobbing and comforting going on around him, Valthur next examines the battle axe. "A fine weapon," he concludes to himself with a couple practice swings. "I think I'll take it."