FInn hums to himself as he walks Boots through the high, thin grasses of the plain.  It had been simple really, why hadn't he thought of it before?  Finn was much better off by himself.  Though Terri wasn't much of a help in a fight, she could have logic that cut straight to the heart of an argument and turned the whole thing on its head.

First of all, she was absolutely right that bringing the whole group of six... one of them being an armed minotaur, was likely to increase the tension of any meeting they had with the Wazifis.  While Finn had gotten along well enough with Azraa, not to mention Khaldun, the situation had been tenuous and Rondald had even shot at Munt before they had managed to get things to calm down.  Keeping things low key this time around would be imperative to getting what Finn was after, which was access to whatever spellbooks of the Necromancer's were left.  After all, Finn had brought back all (or at least most) of the men just like he had promised, for they sure as shit weren't in Perdition by the time Finn had left.

Besides, everyone had seemed to get progressively more crabby as the journey went on.  Finn had continued on being his normal, jovial self, filling up the silence with verbal re-creations of all the fights they had won and by pondering aloud on all the treasure they had left behind, but as the time went on, he got fewer and fewer responses.  At one point, when Finn was laughing about the fact that they had actually thought about running away from the cell that was empty except for the giant, magical treasure - Terri had responded, quite sternly, "Didn't we go there to try and keep all the cells closed?"

She was far from the only one though, tempers had been riding high for a while.  Finn was guilty too.  After the horse feed had run out for Magnus, he and Gustav were the only ones with any left and Finn was none too happy about sharing the little grain he had remaining.  He had parted with it though, to get them out of the mountains which at least kept them from having to graze the animals, saving them from wasting several hours of travel each day.

All in all, the split was a good thing.  It let Finn makes his own decisions on his own, without having to run them by the group first, something that had become tiresome over the last few weeks.

Finn looks out over the high hillside.  He was definitely getting close to al-Hassan.  The tower looming closer was enough proof of that, a landmark which stood out for dozens of miles in each direction, but even without that, the trees here were in orderly rows, some sort of nut tree Finn thought to himself, which likely meant the town was just ahead.  The farmers in these parts never seemed to stray all that far from their villages.

But then, Finn sees something that makes his heart bolt up into his throat... coming out from back in the trees, an enormous man with biceps like five gallon barrels...  The same giant that had chased Finn all over the roof of Perdition.

But the man does not seem to wish to fight today and instead he walks to the edge of the orchard staring at Finn with steely, appraising eyes.  Finn breaks a broad smile as he waves, thinking, I beat you in his own head.

In a matter of another half an hour, Finn is sitting in the large building again, which is not entirely unlike the large shrine in Perdition.  Both Azraa and Khaldun sit across from him, with a handful of others who ask Finn to go into the details of just exactly what has happened.

Finn of course is happy to oblige with the request, casting the epic story of the search of the ruins, from finding Khaldun at the first, to finding the rest of the Wazifis in the sanctuary and the staged battle that Finn had tried so hard to avoid, to defeating the Golem, to the part where Mika'il had lured them down into the other parts of the underground...  Of course, Finn took some subtle liberties.  He shifted Mika'il's actions so that he had jumped out and ambushed them with Sadda while they were fighting the Bone Sovereign, his death being an unfortunate side product of the harrowing situation.  He also left out anything about the keys... or opening the last cell, something which he wanted to keep as close to his chest as he was able.

"Anyway."  Finn finishes in fluent Arabic.  "I lost my spellbook when the others attacked us in the beginning.  They threw in torches and burned the whole place down, my men had to bash a hole in the back wall to make it out safely...  They didn't think to grab my backpack.  I figure..."  Finn holds out Azraa's necklace back to her.  "I helped out you guys, so probably you should think about lending me a hand.  Any chance Haj-Umr had a spellbook or two just laying around?  I could use it.  You know, now that I don't have mine anymore."

Khaldun's face is particularly skeptical, though Azraa is the first one to speak in response.

"Most everything of value had been taken from the tower when Haj-Umr was killed."  Her eyes narrow at Finn as she points a finger.  "Your people were the ones who had taken it.  That was why your charge was to save our men.  You owed us back for what you stole."

The door behind Finn opens and closes, a glance backwards reveals Munt, the patchwork man with a load of animal skins over his shoulder.

Her face softens somewhat.  "Though you killed the foul Sadda, and for that we owe you...  It sounds as if he bedeviled poor Mika'il as badly as he had our master."

"Worse."  Khaldun grunted.  "He seemed to change when that foul thing showed up, he got more frenzied about our task... I didn't put two and two together, but by the time we had separated into two groups, he seemed to be a completely different person.  It's a shame he was so taken in.  He had always seemed such a shy, frail thing.  But he was sure ambitious."

"Perhaps we can be of some help..."  Azraa starts, two of her fingers reaching up to rub pensively on her chin.  "If it is great magic you seek, surely it will be somewhere in the Fence of God."

This comment seems to make the room stir, several of the others sitting there immediately balk at the suggestion, and the loudest of them blurts, "Fool's errand!"  before Azraa is even finished.

"He'd be a dead man."  Khaldun shakes his head.  "The sheiks would not let him get that close to the holy city... No Megalan is allowed there.  And exploring that mountain range alone is utter folly anyway.  There are no secret troves of magic to be found... or else the imams would have found it."

"There's the library of Malak Almawt."  The rich baritone comes from behind Finn, and he turns to see Munt standing a few feet behind him.

"It is hidden...  Master had collected many books on it long ago.  That was before Sadda came.  Before he lost interest."

OOC:  it is 1500 on the 22nd of May.  It has been about 4 days since you left Perdition and your food and grain has been docked accordingly.  Note that you haven't been able to sell any of your gear from the last dungeon yet, though you may attempt to do so here if you wish.  It is a fairly small village though, so don't expect that you will sell everything (or even that they will want everything).  Certainly they will take it though if you are just looking to lose weight.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:51, Sat 21 Mar 2020.

One by one Finn wrapped up his take and gently placed them into his saddle bags.  The heaviest and most durable items went in first, on the bottom, with the lightweight and tender glass items wrapped in cloth and placed tenderly at the top.  Each item was looked upon with care as he packed it away.  Razzel was quiet and solemn while he worked.  In his mind he was grateful to be going home with a profit but through it all he could not forget about what was lost.  The recipe book for mixing magical ointments, potions and salves and the accompanying set of cookery. Their value was nearly priceless.  But the loss of the spell books was immeasurable.  His friends chided him for being so materialistic when he spoke of the loss but they did not understand.  The wizarding world is a competitive one.  Perhaps because there are so few.  Or the power they wield drives their egos to insane levels.  Or maybe because of the power that can be achieved nurtures jealousy.  Whatever the reason mages rarely share their secret knowledge and the spells contained in Haj Umr's books was a dream come true.  A once in a lifetime find.  The truth is that by the time the oddball band of mercenaries leaves Perdition Finn has come to terms with the loss.  His pain, his grief and frustration are gone.  Like hunger abated after a meal.  But he will remember.

As they travel and the idea is suggested it grows like a tree.  Small, then bigger and bigger until it over takes him.  Yes!  It is genius!  Finn will go his own way.  Its brilliant in its simplicity.  Sure, he was fond of his friends and will miss each of them in their own way.  But never in his young life has the democratic process of working as a team sapped his creative drive and optimism so.

And so Finn Razzel, con man, thief and mage extraordinaire heads off for Al Hassan where it all began.  Some might think him crazy but long odds pay off the best.  He rationalizes that it was he who chose to parlay with Khaldun rather than fight, which saved many lives.  And he did the same with the giant when they stormed the long thin room and set it ablaze.  And since they were responsible for setting the fire which burned up his books and he had gone to such painstaking lengths to avoid bloodshed they kind of owed him.  Not to mention that Finn wouldn't even be in this land if not for their boss who planned to launch some ancient evil at his people.  True Haj Umr and his apprentice were corrupted by the evil seducing spirit of Sadda, which Finn snuffed out as well.  So the way he saw it they really owed him.  And to top it off Finn spoke the language thereby sweet talk them towards his own desires.  So what could go wrong?

And just as he predicted (as it usually goes) some time after hitting the towns fringe the happy-go-lucky mercenary is sitting among the foreign townsfolk explaining, in a roundabout way, what happened at Perdition.  Life has taught him that some cannot handle the truth so of course Finn is careful to take some liberties.  For instance Mika'il was likely a dead man.  Whether Magnus accidentally crushed him like a tomato, or the townsfolk strung him up by the neck for his evil deeds or he expire on his own from pushing his body too far, what would be gained by telling these people the exact events?  Finn himself would be strung up and deprive them his further assistance.

Razzel followed the back and forth.  He and his band robbed the tower so they owed the town.  Got it.  But then they rescued the men so they were even.  Annnd theeeeennnn, Finn and company killed Sadda making him one up.  So they did owe him and best of all they saw it that way too.  Splendid.

The Library of Malak Almawt.  For a moment Finn's eyes glaze over.  Just the mere mention of it sounds like a the rapid fire clink of coins falling into his hands.  He smiles devilishly, leans forward and smoothly utters, ”Tell me more...”


OOC:
You played this wonderfully boss.  Finn absolutely would have thought upon seeing the giant that he beat the giant.  And I love how you used what I mentioned long ago, that Finn would turn it around so that they owed him a replacement book.

Finn realizes that his very life in this foreign land depends on them liking him.  To that end I would be interested in selling some of the unwanted stuff cheap – at a discount.  And gifting some of the unwanted stuff.  Giving gifts to help them since they lost so much.  S they'll like me better.  To that end did I end up with the 2nd Cheap broadsword?  If so I'll just give it to them.

The small gathering of elders seems to go silent as the patchwork man talks and Finn's voice is the only one that challenges Munt.

For his part, Munt's head turns to each of the elders in order, looking for even the slightest trace of recognition.  "The Library of Malak Almawt..."  He repeats, as if the extra annunciation will assist the others in jogging their memory.  Though when none seem to recognize what he is talking about, Munt lowers his head, shaking it slightly.

Finn is at once struck by the otherworldliness of this patchwork man.  His seeming confusion is distorted by the thick stitching that arcs through the tanned leather texture of his face in several places.  He is a monster with the voice of an angel.  An abomination that in many ways seemed more cultured than his former master.

Munt sighs, finally seeming to resign to the fact that not a single other person in the room knows the legend he is talking about.

"As the story goes, Malak was an imam long ago, before the practice of magic was embraced by the Caliphate.  Ancient accounts describe how he traveled from tribe to tribe, invoking the wrath of Allah and demanding all the magical texts any locals had acquired, interrogating all of the mages or hedgewitches of all their magical knowledge.  Of course, Malak was a wizard as well, and before long he had amassed a trove of magical knowledge unmatched in those early days.  It was some time before the duplicity of Malak was brought to the attention of the Caliph, how he had been using the words of Allah and the prophet for his own gain.  But the anger of the Caliph was great, and he could not abide a heretic and a witch.  The Caliph brought his armies against Malak openly so that all would know of his fate.  But the wizard realized that he would be overwhelmed if he attempted to face them outright.  So instead the wizard sank his keep into the earth, swallowing it whole from sight, never to be found again."

Munt sighs, looking from face to face, though he seems to have given up hope of someone else taking up the burden of the story.

"Master was looking for the library long ago, and I copied many texts on the matter for him.  He eventually gave up the idea.  Perhaps a year ago another man came along looking for the library...  Master gave him all of his research, that was when he was still looking for the elvish prison."

OOC:  Thanks!  I was rather happy with the transition both on your side and the other guys, obviously they saw the parting of ways a little differently.  I'm pretty happy with the mixed perspectives and the way they panned out.

As for the stuff, I'm still working through some of the admin of moving things back.  You did end up with the cheap sword as far as I know.  That being said, giving out a bunch of freebies is definitely out of character for a greedy bastard like you.  Make a SC roll for me.  If you make it by 5 or more, you can give some of your stuff away, if you make it by less than five, you can sell at a discount of 10% per point you succeed by from the book price.  If you fail, you sell at higher than book prices while trying to convince them they are getting a good deal.  Once you roll, I'll let you know what they are interested in buying here.

As Finn watches and listens to the patchwork man he is suddenly drawn in.  Mystified so that he looses track of time.  Has Munt been speaking for a minute, or ten?  Razzel isn't sure.  But he knows his mind has wandered.  Finn has a deep love for the paradoxical such as Munt.  A horror to look at but a beauty to listen to.  A devils face with an angels voice.  And if the mans soul were gentle as a lamb that irony would be too delicious to eat.

But thankfully Finn mind isn't distracted for long.  He was half worried that the story of the library would be a meandering, confusing connect-the-dots thing that after half an hour of colorful back story leads to nowhere.   But the plucky thief-mage is delighted at the sweetness of the short story.   A sunken library.   And a wandering stranger who was given the research notes.   Sounds easy enough.

Finn bows his head slightly and tucks his shoulders in almost imperceptibly in an effort to appear meek and humble.  He wills his face to cast the visage of childlike innocence.  ”Thank you Munt.  I'd be ever so grateful if ya could tell me what ya know 'a this man.  His name, where he came from, where he was headin' to.  Ya know, everything.”


OOC:
I would like to donate the following to Al Hassan to aid their recovery from the trials of Sadda:

Dagger
Chainmail coif 
Leather helm 
Heavy Leather Legs 
Leather Gloves 
an etched crystal bowl
$100 in cash

On second thought I wont sell anything.  Don't want to be flashing gems and potions around.  You know how greedy people are.

Attempt Fast Talk if needed to get the skinny on the guy who took the research on the Library a year ago,

Finn puts on his best face to ask about who ever it was that took Haj-Umr's notes on the library, expecting to find gold quickly... though Munt simply shakes his head.  "His name was Malakai I believe, though in truth I know little of him.  He came in one day and spoke to the master...  and before I knew it he was gone.  It was only later that I learned that he had taken the books.  Those which I had spent so much time transcribing."  The subject does not seem emotional to Munt, simply a statement of fact of the events as they had happened several years ago.

"I do not know what came of him... perhaps he went looking for the library?  It seemed to be his goal."

OOC:  Items modified on your sheet and all your money is edited.  You talked briefly about giving them the cheap broadsword, but I didn't see it in your list, so it is still in your character sheet.  Let me know if you want to do something else with it.  Fast talk Munt all you wish.  He seems open and unemotional about talking, though he knows little of the man who took all the books.

Malakai.  Malakai.  Malakai.  Finn says several times in his head to cement the name to memory.  He nods to Munt for the information.  Malakai.  Mika'il.  Haj Umr. Where in the world did you people come up with such weird names?  Its like your folks was drunk when you was born, Razzel thinks silently while holding his smile.

The mage-thief listens to the story go deeper and his smile flattens as the gold mine seems to have dried up.  A strange man came and left.  With the research.  And all he left behind was a name.  How to find him...?

Finn wrinkles his mouth, nose and eyes for a long moment in thought.  There was the traditional method of finding this man.  Ask a million people and follow a trail of social bread crumbs.  But that could take weeks or likely months or even years.  And who knows the cost if people want to be paid for their time and knowledge.

Just then a brilliant idea strikes like lightning.  Finn begins waggling his fingers.  ”Bear with me please.  I have an idea...”


OOC:  I did ask for the Cheap sword and Rondald could take the remainder of the Cheap items to balance.  But he never responded so I didn't move it to my list.  But since I ended up with it I will donate it to the fine people of Al Hassan.

To further boost my likability I will offer my services as a basic healer while in town.  I cant heal disease but I can heal wounds.

Mika'il, Malakai, Malak Almawt...  Finn was starting to believe that some drunk asshole was just making up names to make everything more confusing.  Why did everything have to be so damned similar?

Still, there was little to be done about the inconvenience now.  The test was to find Malakai... or whoever, so that Finn could steal the research and find the library all on his own.  And he knew just how to get things started.

Summoning the mana around him, he conjures a face... just a normal man, slightly tanned, somewhere halfway between the complexion of a Megalan (who were usually lighter skinned, especially in Azer where it rained almost half the days on the calandar) and a Wazifi (who were often darker skinned) with straight, brown hair.  A sort of blank canvas to spring off from.  In Finn's mind, the idea was genius...  Munt could just tweak things here and there to give him a perfect picture of the man he was after.

Of course, things are never that easy.

Munt seemed to have no problem at first, confidently making small changes that shifted the facial features, sculpting a unique identity out of the illusion.  Of course as he continued, more questions seemed to pop up in Finn's mind... the most predominant of which was really?  Towards the end, each change seemed to take the illusion farther and farther from the realm of the human.

"Munt... normally the nose goes more to the center of the face..."  Khaldun offers helpfully, though by now it seems Munt is just as confused as the rest of the people in the room.

Finn takes a look at the illusion, sweat already beginning to bead up on his forehead from the extended exertion, and realizes that by now the idea is probably a total loss.  The thing seems more horror villain than man, with his facial features shifted in inhuman ways, his expression of a gruesome mix of fear and horror with his eyes too large and too protruded to be real.

"Maybe not..."  Munt says with a sigh, obviously trying despite the monstrous creation.  "Maybe the mouth should be bigger?"

"Ah... no."  Khaldun laughs at the suggestion, adding the same thought that had come into Razzel's mind.  "Not unless his mouth is supposed to be bigger than the rest of the head."

Munt groans in exasperation, putting his own disfigured face into his massive hands.  "Perhaps you should just look for the library and then when you find it you can find Malakai?"  He offers, clearly at his wits end with the exercise.

OOC:  The final creation is something between a Picasso and Adam and Barbara's rendition of "scary face" in the movie Beetlejuice.  You find it highly unlikely that a person like that exists, and certainly no one else in the audience has piped in with "yeah, I remember that guy."

LOL on your paragraph line in your post.  I added my own touch here, and it was on my mind before I posted the name.  Unfortunately I've been struck with overlapping modules, which all seem to very similar name versions with the exception of Malak... that one I got through an Arabic name generator before I realized I was going to be stuck with Malakai from the module...  Probably should have fiddled a little further with things, but sometimes it's just easier to go with the flow rather than constantly try and remember all the random names you have given people.

When the project began Finn had high hopes.  His idea was inspired and once again it was confirmation of his genius.  Rather than draw with charcoal on parchment or lines in the dirt Razzel would fashion a life like image of the man as if he were standing in the room. Finn could change this imagined image at will according to Munts instructions.  But it wasn't meant to be.  Whether it be the man's faded memory or some breakdown in the flow of directions from witness to sculptor the end result looks even more monstrous than Munt himself.

Finn now exhausted slumps onto the floor mostly to think while he regains his strength.  Munts comment hangs in the air like an annoying mosquito.  The plucky thief-mage swats at it after a long pause and might have sounded more irritated if he weren't so tired.  ”How am I gonna find the dang place on nothin' but a name?”  Finns query was more rhetorical as he wasn't even looking at Munt.  But now that he's begun down that line of questioning he re-enters it in earnest.  ” 'Less you made a copy 'a the notes?”, the agent of the Row remarks hopefully.


OOC:
Glad you liked my thought bubbles.

I'm kind of at a loss.  So let me recap what Finn knows at this time.  We have the Library of Malak Almawt which is kind of like Indy looking for the lost Ark.  Malak supposedly was a political cleric who through coercion collected an impressive set of spells.  But he broke religious law in doing so and brought the wrath of the Caliph.  So when confronted he sunk his stronghold deep in the earth.  Fast forward to a few years ago.  Haj Umr was gathering research on the Library but when Sadda came and corrupted him he forgot all about it.  So he gave his notes to Jonny Wanderlust, who no one can remember what he looks like.  Jonny's real name was Malakai (Which is Arabic for John Smith).

Can Munt offer anything else of value?  Does he remember any of the notes he transcribed?  Such as the alleged location of the library?  A map would be great even if it is only 50% accurate.  Whats the general terrain?  Mountains?  Would I have to leave Boots behind?

This message was last edited by the player at 19:57, Tue 07 Apr 2020.

"A copy?"  Munt answers with a mere reflection of Finn's own question, sending the thief to even higher levels of frustration.  Luckily, before his entire face makes it to the shade of a red cabbage, Munt continues with the answer.

"No, I only ever made the one of each copy for master.  Though I think I can remember most of it."  Munt rolls his eyes back towards the top of his head as if trying to remember something long tucked away.

"In a cave
On an island
On a lake
Where the phantoms drift.
On a mountain
In the forest
At the edge
Where the ancients keep."

Munt lowers his head, looking back at Finn.  "Master had thought that the library was somewhere near the edge of the Great Forest, where the edges of the southern mountains touch the border...  Or at least where the forest has shrunken from.  Now the caravan routes go through the southern forest and many men have spoken of finding ancient coin at the skirts of the forest.  Master had often spoke of making a trip there to explore, though the route was too far for something so unsure... he had many experiments and studies he could not leave even before his attention had been clouded by his obsession with the prison."

Munt looks at Finn.  "Do you think you will go there?  I should like to see it...  Though I was copying text before I could read the words master had taught me early enough, many of my earliest memories were formed by the descriptions in those texts.  Perhaps it will bring me back to the beginning, give me some arc to start life anew..."

Azraa looks at Munt, her eyes open with wonderment, though she stays silent, waiting for Finn to respond.

OOC:  Munt does remember quite a lot, though if you asked him to "tell you everything important" you would likely not get much information in return.  If you don't already realize it, it would likely be apparent to Finn that Munt thinks quite differently than you do.  As for terrain - there is definitely a mountain and water based on the description above.  Over to you as to whether you think Boots could make it.  As I remember it, he's a quarterhorse, which normally do pretty well in terrain due to their thick builds.  Swimming is something he might not like though.  Caves are probably out of the question...  That doesn't mean you couldn't take him somewhere close though.

Finn squints his eyes galvanizing himself to memory the flowery poem like rhetoric as if he'll only ever hear it once.  A lake.  A cave.  A forest.  Why does everythin' have to be so damned cryptic!, he whines to himself internally.

And then Razzel pauses to consider the loot he pilfered from the necromancers tower.  Not only the spellbooks but also the book on alchemy, the high quality cookery and the ingredients.  Their sum was more than Finn has seen to this point in his young life, and if he were settled he would likely hide his belongings and only allude to them by way of treasure maps as well.

While his mind wandered he missed part of what Munt was saying but thankfully the mage-thief is able to piece it together.  Finn chuckles a snorting kind of laugh in response.  ”Sure as yer paw's a...well, ya.  I'm goin'.”  Finn catches himself, careful to not get too comfortable, yet.  Poking fun at his friends was one thing but these foreigners might not understand and forgive the context.

Then the plucky agent of the Row is hit with what is really going on.  Munt is the map.  And he needs him.  But can the man survive?  ”Say Munt 'ol buddy.  How are ya with a blade?  I mean, say we run inta mountain lions, or grizzlies.  Or giants.  You handy with a long sword or axe?”


OOC:
Am I missing something?  Munt said he transcribed the texts/notes for his master and the stranger took the copies.  Where are the originals?  Why cant I have those?

Ok, I see The Great Forest on the big map.  Remind me again where I am please.  So Munt is talking about where the mountains touch the southern end of the forest on the map of Al Wazif, just to the left of the N-S-E-W symbol?

And Al Haz, its another Arabic state?

"I haven't ever swung a sword...  I've used an axe often enough when needed to split wood, but I've never needed it for anything other than that."

Munt thinks on the matter.  "Most times my hands have done the trick for me if I've needed to defend myself.  I've seen my fair share of lion come near the village at night, trying to find an easy meal in the dry season.  They have served me well enough."

OOC:  Presumably the originals weren't Haj-Umr's to begin with.  Instead, he borrowed the texts, had Munt transcribe them, then returned them to their owners.  You never found anything of the sort when you were rummaging through the tower.

It's worth noting, that although Munt is a hunchback, he as arms as thick as your thighs.  He is quite obviously stronger than an average man, and likely as strong as Magnus if they were put toe to toe.  While he has a calm demeanor, it's hard to imagine (especially with his gruesome face) that he wouldn't be able to hold his own.

The location Munt is talking about is farther north than you are looking.  It's just at the western foothills of the unnamed mountains in al-Wazif, near the 'n' in 'Pillars of Heaven.  It's still 100 miles from your location, which is on the northern slopes of the same mountain range, just south of the last 'm' in Mackarem.  The mountain range you are talking about is the 'Fence of God' which was mentioned briefly in the elder's discussion.  Al-Haz is indeed another Arabic state, in general more conservative than al-Wazif, though the rural areas you are in right now are fairly conservative in comparison to the larger cities.

Finn regards his best asset as the thing between his ears.  While some would say his mouth he would say his mind.  The often overly optimistic entrepreneur has heard it said scores of times 'There is safety in numbers', but the wise know this is conditional.  Those numbers don't account for squat if they ain't loyal.  Razzel has heard many, many stories of traveling companions turning on the guy holding the most loot.

The plucky mage sits in silence for several long moments as the wheels of his keen brain spin and churn.  He looks around the room appraisingly.  He is thinking, and sizing up the men.  He is after men with skill, bravery but most of all loyalty towards ones employer.  With a burning desire Finn will not let himself forget that he is an infidel in a foreign country.  While these people might be honorable and good people sometimes those rules are thrown out in the cases of second class citizens.  Or non citizens.

What Finn needs is a pitch.  A story.  A grand tale to convince the bold and talented to sign on and see it through, to protect the life of their employer if necessary.  So the thief-mage smiles a devilish grin and begins to spin tales.  Most if not all have heard these tales in the last week.  Some lived through them.  But it wouldn't hurt to remind them of Finn's virtues.  He tells how when Rondald fired upon Munt it was Finn who called a halt to the fighting and argued for talk.  Again at the fire room fight Finn tried diplomacy instead of out right killing.  But more so it was his brilliant plan and superior gifts that allowed him to rise above the crowd and be mostly unhurt by the swarm of arrows.  Finn speaks of it as all planned ahead of time to draw them away from his friends inside the room.  The thief-mage makes the argument that without a plan, a good plan, there is only chaos and luck.  And men who rely solely upon luck end up dead sooner or later.

But he doesn't stop there.  Finn is a stranger in a strange land.  He will be outnumbered for weeks.  He needs to cement as much loyalty as he can on day one.  So he aims for 'over the top'.  He scours his memory for a story that conveys his genius, talents and drive to get the job done.  He wants these men to know that the only way to come out alive and wealthier on the other side is to follow his directions until the bitter end.  And so he decides to tell a story of a job he was handed.  It seemed difficult if not impossible.  But those are the jobs Finn loves partly because others are scared of them.

”See, couple 'a years ago my friend brings me this job.  He wants me to grab this cup.  But not just any 'ol cup.  The cup 'a Saint Berachus.”  Razzel pauses for a moment.  A few of his fingers twitch while he utters a few words carefully and clearly spoken to ensure the spells success.  Now just as an imagine of a man had appeared before an image of a golden cup forms in the air before Finn.  It is larger than a drinking cup and his rendering is decorated with a handful of sparkling blue, red and green gems.  ”I don't 'member the exact size 'a the pile its worth but its a big 'un.  An' my friend already has a buyer.  Trouble is the owner is ready for some jack boys so he's got dogs an' spotters.  An' a big 'ol fence.  So I put my 'ol noggin' to the job - how do we get in, grab it an' get out without bein' snatched?  Every time I think I got a fool proof plan I find some hole.  But this is where I shine.  I don't give up.  An' so finally I crack it.  I sneak in alone an' grab the cup.  If I get out clean it's off to our payday.  But if the spotters spot me an' call for the ol' bills I need a way out.  So I go buy half a dozen ol' bill uniforms.  An' let me tell you they don't come cheap.  So when the spotters call for the ol' bills guess who shows up to put the cuffs on me?  My friends, dressed in the uniforms I bought.  But instead 'a takin' me off to the klink they take me right to the buyer.  Let that sink in a minute.  I had an armed escort with a free pass past any other hoodlums all the way to our buyer.”  Finn smiles as he wraps his arms around himself, quite satisfied.


OOC:
Jack boy is slang for thief.  Spotter is slang for a guard.  Old Bill is slang for police.  In this instance Finn is using Spotter to mean something like a modern day security guard while an Old Bill refers to a fully trained police officer with heavy duty gear.

Ahhh, that makes complete sense about the texts Haj Umr had were borrowed.

Good to know about Munt being able to handle himself in a fight.  For this I want at least 3 people who can handle themselves in a fight, myself included.  We've talked behind the scenes about me recruiting more people.  I will include some more details below in PM.

Regarding Boots I will attempt the following arrangement.  Since its likely that I cant take Boots all the way to the module site and I don't want to leave him away from our daily camp for extended periods, I will seek out in town someone I can leave Boots with for the next few weeks.  I want a recommendation from Munt or Khaldun.  Ie, not the town drunk or crook.  The deal I am aiming for says that they can use Boots as a work animal, transport animal while I am gone and in exchange they will feed him, care for him (board him) and treat him well (not neglectful).

Still on the table is selling some loot.  I want to see what I can get before I pull the trigger.  At a min I would like 1 week in cash for each hireling before we leave town.

I took a few liberties with crowd reaction here.  It was just for flavor of story telling.  I hope I didnt cross any lines.  I also took some liberties in time.  Technically I should have rested for a long time after casting the first illusion but in the grand scheme I assumed it would all work out the same anyway.

Finn will cast another illusion.  He will maintain it for a few minutes as he tells his story of a clever heist.  He will change the illusion to make it fit whatever the central point is at that moment, to help illustrate the level of difficulty and how clever he was at overcoming tough odds.

If the locals make a fuss about Finn being a dirty scoundrel thief he will say that yes, he steals.  But he is upfront about it.  And he steals only from bad people.  Evil people.  Crooks.  Etc.  He doeant steal from good hard working people and he doesnt steal from working associates.  He would ask the the locals to ponder his actions.  He was honorable inside Perdition.  True, Finn did loot the tower but he considers that spoils of war.  If Haj Umr had not been planning to attack Finns people Finn wouldn't be here.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Mon 27 Apr 2020.

Over the next few days, Finn tells his tale many times, sometimes to the individual farmers out in the fields, sometimes to a gathering of men around a fire.  Though he is no expert in the Muslim culture, Finn finds out quickly that trying to spin his tale in a group of women (or even trying to talk to the women while the men are gone) is a rather sticky prospect.  Though it isn't his own style, it seems that modesty, or at least the outward appearance of modesty, is of vital importance to the village.  Finn quickly adapts his attempts in the interests of trying to hire the best hands at the least cost.

It's a simple plan really.  Finn wants whatever treasure is in the library...  Though Munt has already expressed his interest, Finn has the sneaking suspicion that he'll need a little more help than just the patchwork man to really get what he is after.  So he tells his story, weaving it in a way that spends the most time describing Finn's cunning, his initiative, and most importantly, his success.  The plan works much better than even Finn had envisioned.  He had been skeptical of finding real help -- after all, the village had just lost somewhere just shy of half of their men on the expedition to Perdition which was in large part their skilled farmers.  It seems that the loss of Haj-Umr had made it's own shakeup of the village.  Especially those who had been employed in the tower previously seemed eager to escape their newfound duties of farming and cultivating.

Finn eventually had three men picked out who seemed to fit his purposes.  Omar was a former soldier and gamekeeper for Haj-Umr...  A quiet man, fit and quick he was skilled with a sword and a bow and seemed more than capable to hold his own in just about every environment.  It didn't hurt that Omar already had his own suit of chain armor that he had kept from his time protecting the tower.  Labid (there were a lot more names after that... Finn had become quickly confused and had settled on calling the youth by just the first one) was a young man, perhaps only fifteen and he was still growing into his body, though he seemed agile and strong enough to hold his own.  It seemed Labid was a sort of outsider to the village, an orphan of some noble blood that had been sent to Haj-Umr for a better upbringing, though he had quickly been swept into the masses of the tower.  Most importantly to Finn, Labid had spent a good amount of time assisting Khaldun and had learned extensive game and rope traps, not to mention swordplay and fighting.  His last hire was Bashar...  Though the man was not as skilled as the other two, and was mostly a farmer by trade, he had been Haj-Umr's messenger to the surrounding villages and cities.  Few of the villagers knew much of the surrounding areas, though Bashar had traveled much more widely.

"So when do we leave?"  Labid interjected in Arabic as Finn brought the three together with Munt and himself.  "I figure as soon as we can get going the better, there's nothing much here that's keeping us back and we may as well get some of this treasure Finn's been talking about.  I mean, shit I bet there's all sorts of gold.  Plenty to go around."

OOC:  Nice work on the recruiting roll.  No issues with taking liberties in your story, though it would have less effect on the room full of the elders than it would have had on some of the normal populace, so I went ahead and fast forwarded you a couple of days.  It seems that people are pretty receptive to your tale and the idea of finding more loot/adventure.  Though al-Hassan has had it's share of misfortunes, there are enough people that aren't interested in doing the hard work of rebuilding the village that you've managed to fairly easily find the three you are looking for.  You had mentioned you wanted a sort of contract before leaving, so if you want to get one set up, this would be the time to do it.  You also managed to find someone that seems trustworthy to look after Boots and they are happy to use him as a plow horse in exchange for feeding and caring for the animal.

In the first days after leaving Perdition Finn found himself in a foul mood.  The loss of his backpack was most painful.  While his companions could not understand his feelings since the loss was merely physical possessions it was the rarity of the find that pained him so deeply.  That too was accompanied by the acrid taste in his mouth over the fact that little of the black prison cells were opened, which after dealing with the apprentice and the deamon was the entire point of making the dangerous trip.

But as it often happens within days of parting ways with his companions he begins to forget the pains and more remembers the joys, and so by the time he leaves the small village of al-Hassan he is missing his friends.  Most of all the often overly reflective and too cautious Magnus.  Finn even recalls Rondald fondly.

Razzel grew up on the mean streets.  His profession of choice was that of thief and con man so subtlety and deception were the name of the game.  Its no surprise then that a knife became his weapon of choice since its a bit difficult to hide a long blade down your trousers or up a sleeve.  But over the past several weeks and more so in recent days thanks to the help of Omar, his new hired bodyguard, Finn has improved with a long sword by leaps and bounds.

As the plucky entrepreneur approaches his three hirelings and hopefully new long term friends he cannot help but smile a charming sort of warm grin.  He is exactly where he wants to be.  Going on another adventure, his recent growth giving him a solid floor of stability under him.  ”Soon as we can all gather our stuff I 'magine.”


OOC:
Ok, I think I am ready to go.  We worked out most of the issues behind the scenes.   I was waiting on you to spend my CPS but maybe you've been waiting on me to post before you dedicate time here.  Anyway, lets move on.  With the admin out of the way I should be able to handle a few posts per week.  But I understand you can only do what you can do, with your busy RL and multiple threads.

Lol.  I forgot Munt was going.

We didn't talk about this but I would need a new backpack.  I don't want to carry my gear in saddlebags.  I assume one is for sale in town?

Have Bashar estimate how long it will take walking the round trip, add 3 days for searching for site, and then multiply that result by 50%.  Everyone should bring at least that much food.

This message was last edited by the player at 18:36, Wed 27 May 2020.

"Hmm."  Bashar murmurs as Finn asks for a calculation of the time it will take them to get there.  "Hard to know for sure, but I would say it would be about five days to get for a suitable path Southward, then maybe another three to get where we are looking for?  Five maybe if we have to go all the way to the caravan road.  So I guess ten days tops to get there."

Finn does some quick math in his head and estimates that everyone will need about twenty days worth of food.

"How are we supposed to get that when you haven't paid us yet?"  Omar quirks an eyebrow at Finn.  "We'll all get what we can, but it's probably too early in the season to try and get a surplus anyway, the harvest isn't for another few months...  We're just starting to get the apricots and zucchini.  Maybe I can pull down an antelope before we go...  Take a while to dehydrate though."  Omar muses.

"Antelope would be good."  Labid adds.  "I think strawberries might just be coming up too."

"It's spring."  Munt shrugs.  "There will be plenty along the way."

OOC:  Ok, admin stuff.  Good thought on the food, but you are leaving from a village, where there isn't a huge surplus of grain that you can draw off of, nor is there a stockpile of dried meat.  Also, it sounds like your hirelings might not be able to get all the food you think is pertinent.  10 days is about the farthest away Bashar thinks the place could be based on Munt's description, which by your math makes 20 days of food, or 60 rations.  Multiplied by 5 is 300.  That sort of stockpile doesn't exist here.  You have a few options: let your hirelings fend for themselves, get as much food as you can all on your own and distribute it out of their pay (or give it to them for free), or just plan on finding your own food along the way.  If you want to mix among those three, you can, or else try anything you want.

You did manage to find someone willing to sell a backpack, a 40lb. capacity bag with limited wear that the person was willing to part with for $72 after some haggling.  Let me know where you want to go from here and when you are ready (no need to roleplay buying the food.

Finn chats with the men casually while mulling over any other administrative points that need to be dealt with.  He had a friend back in Azer who was fond of saying 'the devil is in the details', whatever that means.


OOC:
The $975 on my char sheet + $820 (yes, I will sell it all) nets me $1,795.  I will pay each of the 4 a weeks pay now in good faith for a total cost of $600.  I will also buy the small pack for $72, and I will buy as much food as the village is willing to sell me.  I will provide the men with food at a cost to me but we will have to forage the rest.

Concerned about food, Finn decides to pay each of his men for a weeks worth of work.  The three of his hires accept the money gladly, though Munt looks confused, and declines the offer.

"I've never found much use for it."  Munt explains as Finn's complete confusion spreads across his face like a disease.  "Master has given me some before.  It just takes up space."

Finn spends the afternoon selling some of his last remaining items from the journey, a handful of gems which net him a tidy sum, and trying to find a supplier of food that will travel well enough to stay in his pack for a week.  Finn does eventually find a villager who parts with a stash of dry beans and root vegetables, enough that Finn estimates it will work for him for about a week.  Added to his other food though, he was well on his way to being able to eat for the entire journey.

Finn also manages to find an old worn backpack to replace his that had been burned in Perdition.  Though the price was higher than Finn would normally want to pay, it was serviceable, and given that Munt hadn't wanted any compensation for coming, he had a little more money than he had been counting on.

Of course, it seemed that not everyone had managed the same luck as Finn.  It seemed debatable that Omar had looked for food at all, and Labid and Bashar had only managed a small stock - likely not enough to hold off the rest of the group for a full day.  For his part, Munt did not come with any supplies.  He simply shambled toward them, his back malformed so that he nearly scraped his knuckles as he lumbered, carrying nothing but the stitched up rags that covered his body.

Though he wasn't happy with the situation, Finn decides that staying longer will not help their case, and after all, there was certainly the chance of finding food along their way.

The beginning of the journey starts simple enough.  Everyone is familiar enough with the area to know they are heading Westward, keeping the mountains far enough to their left side to keep the terrain manageable.  Omar travels at the front with Labid walking at his side, the younger man jabbering on at every opportunity, though Omar remains fairly quiet, at times answering with only a word and at others going long stretches without saying even that.

Finn is far enough back that it is difficult to make out the particulars of the conversation, though in a moment of introspection, the dynamic strikes him as somewhat similar to his own trip back from Perdition, where he was doing the talking for everyone... and everyone else seemed happy enough to just keep the silence.

Munt walks alongside Finn, and though the rambling hunchback seems ungainly, he walks with a surprising quietness to his step, his movements quick and fluid despite their awkward appearance.  "You know."  Munt offers to Finn after an hour of walking together.  "This is only the second time I've left any farther than the village.  And the only time where I didn't have a master to serve.  I wonder what wonders this new day will bring?"

Though Finn had hired Bashar as their guide, the man was the slowest out of the five, often falling back behind Finn and Munt so that when the group took breaks, half of them were dedicated just to the slower man catching up.  Though as for navigation, it made little difference, at least this early, for it seemed that all of them knew, at least in general, where they were moving.

After having broken for lunch, waiting out the hottest moments of the day under the shade of a handful of boulders, the group sets out again across the hilly plains, braving the slowly ebbing heat of the afternoon.

As he begins to approach the crest of a hill, Finn watches Omar stop suddenly ahead.  Labid too slows, though he does not seem to have the same urgency to his action, and keep on talking in Arabic at his normal pace.

"So anyway, I'm glad that things have settled out, I'm not sure I ever would have gotten the upbringing my family wanted in the tower, the Amir never gave me much attention, and Khaldun was good and all, but he had all sorts of other stuff he was expected to do.  This gives me the opportunity to spread my wings, you know?  Learn some stuff, get a few good stories.  I've got to get out of the small town and back into the cities, but I've got to learn enough here that I don't just get taken advantage of as soon as I get back..."

Labid seems he is going to go on, though he is cut off by a single word from Omar.  "Quiet."

Sensing something amiss, Finn hurries his footsteps over the rise and is soon standing next to his other two men, looking on the wash below.

"I think I solved our food problem."  Omar says, pointing down the hill.  It takes Finn a moment to see them, though when he does he quickly recognizes Omar's point.  Two massive birds are wandering idly in the wash, churning up earth and roots with their feet before picking at the mess with their needle-thin beaks.  Though the two things have wings, they seem small and ineffectual - not nearly the size they would need to be to carry such a massive creature up into the air.  "Striders."  Omar offers simply, a smile playing on his face.

OOC:  it is 1400 on the 26th of May.  The birds look like 10 foot tall ostriches, and they are maybe a quarter mile away.  They don't seem to have noticed you yet.  You can roll vs. Naturalist-3 or Area Knowledge (Al-Wazif)-3 to get any additional information about the birds, though they are rare in this area and there is no default to IQ.


Striders

Back at the village as Razzel digs deep to hand out four parcels of a weeks wage well in advance of the work done he runs into a surprising and quite unexpected event.  Munt refuses pay.  Finn initially smiles waiting for the punchline as he cant believe his ears.  But when no 'gotcha' moment occurs Finn takes the oddity in stride, but also making sure to say aloud for the record, ”Suit y'rself friend.  Well do it yer way, no pay.”  It isn't until later when Munt shows up on the edge of town, with quite literally nothing to bring for the likely two weeks journey that Finn is almost stunned into confusion.

As the men walk along Finn is rather pleased with himself.  His first and second official jobs with the Row, stealing Behar and then escorting him across land and water were a smashing success.  His next two jobs, destroying the daemon seduced necromancer, apprentice and their plans, were equally definitively successful.  Now the plucky mage-thief feels as though his work has as it should be taken a more self directed route.  He is a loner so to speak.  No overlording boss.  No company agenda to serve.  No equal part co-workers to bicker and argue protocols with.  His success or failure is entirely up to him, based entirely on the directions he chooses.  Finn is as happy as a pig rolling in warm shit.

But something pulls him from his happy place.  As they walk Munt mumbles something about this being only the second time he's ever been away from the village and that he's never before not had a master to serve.  Razzel stops in his tracks, again almost literally stunned.  Was this patchwork man having a laugh at Finn's expense?  The entrepreneur waits a few moments until he's sure the answer is no then he scuttles to catch up to Munt.  Razzel's crafty calculating mind whirs at the statement. Was Munt saying he is in search of a new master? If this monster of a man proves himself in a fight he would be a diamond in the rough. Imagine the partnership!  Finn mage and thief extraordinaire, Munt brutal unpaid loyal bodyguard.  It's a match made in heaven!

Finn isn't sure how long he walks just uttering simple phrases constructed with no thought to keep the conversation going.  He is temporarily lost in fantasies of exploring ruins without sharing the spoils when suddenly the discovery of the striders abruptly yanks him free.  Clearing his mind he concocts a brilliant plan immediately.

Finn's eyes hungrily search the vicinity for a suitable spot to drop his pack as he begins unbuckling his weapon belt.  As the pack falls Razzel quips sarcastically but jovially,  "Don't burn this up now".

"I'm'a make like a tiger..." he begins casually.  But when the groups confusion seems apparent he explains with some measure of detail.     " 'Member my stories?  I'm a wizard.  A warlock.  A sorcerer.  I got a few tricks ta bend nature the way I want it.  Anyways, I'm'a turn into'a tiger an' creep up on them birds.  When I jump 'em, if they run they likely gonna run up that way.  So be round there.”  Finn points.  ”But make sure you got one eyeball on me in case I need a hand".


OOC:
For dramatic effect Finn will remove all gear that would fall off anyway when he cast his spell.  Again for dramatic effect he will leave on gear that transforms with him.  When he removes his gear he will take a moment to hide it just in case.  The goal is 30 seconds or less.  Under a bush, behind a rock.  Something simple so its not in plain sight.

For what its worth I will share my food with the others.  In other words we all eat until the food runs out and then we all starve together.  Hopefully the striders will solve our food problems.

With Bashar falling behind does it seem that he isnt fit, or does it seem to be an issue of laziness?

The plan is pretty simple.  Finn will explain it and take time to make sure everyone understands, answering questions if needed.  He will offer his bow to anyone who wants it but not his Fine weapons.  He will cast his spell turning himself into a tiger.  In tiger form Finn will trot off to hopefully spring a trap.  Finn will attempt to approach from a position that is not downwind, ie, they cant easily smell him.  When he gets within about 50 yards begin using stealth.  When I get within striking distance pounce on one of the big birds.  I am expecting 1 of 2 outcomes.  1, I miss and the birds flee.  My men are to be waiting at a point where I would expect the birds to flee to.  The idea is that I drive the birds into the waiting weapons of my men.  Or 2, I grapple one of the birds.  In this case the men should use their best judgment as to whether to chase the other bird or come to aid me.  They can all work as one unit or split up.  Since Omar is the fighter he is my field lieutenant and therefore in charge when I am gone.

Always the over plucky enthusiast, Finn immediately begins to generate a plan to take one of the striders down.  Using a finger, Finn tests the wind, and though it seems they are mostly downwind of the animals as the breeze cuts across the mountainside, he surmises that it is going a little downhill as well.

With all the bells and whistles of a campfire saga, Finn explains the details of his plan.  He will take the form of a tiger and approach the striders from the bottom of the wash.  The other four will approach the striders from above in the wash, though not too closely.  Their main goal is to cut off any avenue of escape.  Meanwhile, Finn will attack one of the birds from behind, trying to either grapple it and fix it in place, or scare it in the direction of the others.

Once Finn is confident that the others know the plan, he hands his bow to Labid, who takes it with relish along with Finn's quiver full of arrows.  He removes his weapons and gear, placing them under a nearby small bush.  He talks briefly with Omar about the best place for them to wait before he finally casts his magic.

Using a complicated set of hand gestures and a word or two of power, Finn feels his body transform.  His legs coil and thicken as his jaw expands.  His teeth grow like lances in his mouth as his fingers shrink and his nails are ripped from their beds and move to the gaps of his pads, growing and morphing into wicked, retractable claws.

Finn would not describe the process as pleasant, in fact it was extremely uncomfortable, but if there was something to say for it at least it was over in only a moment, his human body replaced with the powerful form of a jungle cat.

It had been some time since Finn had needed to become a tiger.  His eyes winced in the midday sun, trying to shield his night-loving form from the glare.  His nose seemed to shrivel at once in the dry Wazifi air losing every bit of its moisture, bringing a cracked discomfort to Finn's face.  Still, everything was well enough to be getting on with and with an attempt at a smile (that did not seem to be accepted as such based on the look of surprise and fear on Bashar's face) Finn loped off on the backside of the hill towards the base of the wash.

Though Finn was no doubt a confident man, he was practical enough not to be foolish with his actions.  He knew that he had to wait for his team to be in place before he attacked, not to mention that it would take longer for them on their human legs to get in place.  Finn also recognized that patience and stealth was his best way to bring down one of the animals.  If his first attack missed, he had likely lost his only chance, and would be dependent on the others to take it down with a few lucky arrows.  As such, Finn went farther down the wash than he thought he needed to, and his movement back up was slow, using the full of the cover available as he sorted through the foreign smells and sounds that his new body afforded him.

One thing was clear.  These were not like any birds that Finn had seen before.  As he crept ever closer, Finn realized he had not underestimated their size from a distance.  The two were easily ten feet tall, with legs and neck like the tree trunks of a juvenile oak.  Their body too, was thick, and even in his tiger form, Finn was sure the things outweighed him.  Waiting for the two to be facing the other direction, Finn slinked to the cover of a nearby rock, lurching his body forward to get the shortest avenue of attack available.

He waited.  Finn waited until the moment was perfect, with the nearest of the birds bent over, his beak searching through the dug up earth.

Finn surges forward, his supercharged body springing on his dinner plate sized pads.  The farther strider recognizes the attack in a moment and bolts, his massive legs carrying him away at nearly the speed that Finn is approaching, but the nearer one, the one Finn had been after, tarries just long enough.

Finn collides with the massive bird, his tiger form hurled five feet in the air, all four pads with claws out, digging into the flesh of the great bird.  Finn had been hoping to knock the thing over, but he is surprised by the thing's mass.  As his own body drops back to the ground on all four paws, the strider merely pedals backwards a step to regain his balance as his head swings upwards and turns to look at Tiger-Finn.

OOC:  I think I got your plans right with a pounce as the first attack.  Your stealth roll was good enough to get as close as you could ask for and while you hit, the damage wasn't overwhelming enough for an automatic knockdown.  The strider did manage to keep his feet, and you managed to keep yours as well.  You are one hex away from the strider who is now in a normal standing position.  Let's do one round of combat.

Finn:

With Bashar falling behind does it seem that he isnt fit, or does it seem to be an issue of laziness?

No, it just seems like he's the slowest out of everybody by a decent bit.  He's not whining or moping about the pace, he just isn't able to keep up.

Its been some time since Finn has been in tiger form.  The sensations are wonderful!  Too bad humans cant smell, see and hear like this.  But then again who wants to smell a chamber pot from a mile away as if you're standing next to it.

As Finn trots off towards his prey he recalls an amusing story.  His teacher in the animal arts, a rural hedge wizard named Muldune taught him the spell and then accompanied him into the wild to make certain Razzel had the hang of it.  Muldune, a tall thin rough looking but handsome man was more than fifteen minutes late to the rendezvous spot.  When he changed back into human form his hair was disheveled and his face and hands red with scratches and light cuts.  ”Don't...”, was all he offered when he eyed Finn staring at him with curiosity.  But when the students questioning looks wouldn't subside Muldune responded gruffly and unhappily.  ”I forgot.  Its mating season.”

Finn would have preferred he were standing over his quarry but he'll take what he can get.  Not wanting to waste an opportunity he feints left slightly then ducks right to go in for a vicious bite.

OOC:
Yup, you got it right, thanks boss.  And good to know about Bashar.

In a solid position despite the fact that he had not been able to knock the thing off its feet, Finn dives forward in his tiger form.  His teeth fully bared, he snaps at the bird's leg, the only real target available without stretching himself up on his hind paws and exposing his underbelly.

Though his attack is well executed, the strider seems to know it is coming, and the thing darts off madly on its massive legs up the stretch of the wash, directly towards the others.  Finn dashes off in chase, initially closing the gap though it quickly becomes apparent that the strider is much faster than him.

Still, Finn charges madly in pursuit, hoping that the others can add something to the case.

Twang, twang!

The twin bowshots zip out from the sides, meeting in the middle at the form of the strider as it surges onward up the draw.  The bird crows out in surprise and pain, though it quickly redirects its motion and changes its path upwards on the hill.

Finn sees Munt stagger out from behind a shrub as well, though the beast seems too far away for the hunchback to spring his attack.

Finn follows the bird, the smell of blood saturating the roof of his mouth and causing him to salivate profusely...

OOC:  Ok, the bird is faster than you and managed to escape your trap, though it has been injured.  That being said, plenty of prey are faster than the predators that end up exhausting them and taking them out.  What is your plan from here?  Do you want to keep tracking it?

Finn creeps in for the kill using his predatory skills as a giant feline.  When he is close enough he jumps!  His body thuds into the big bird but thankfully due to his heightened grace he lands on all fours.  Instantly and sensing the bird is facing partially away Finn the jungle beast gnashes out with razor sharp and powerful teeth the size of daggers.  But the damn bird is too quick and it runs off.

Some would be disheartened in this situation but Finn isn't flustered.  This is part of the game of hunter and the hunted.  Finn bursts into a run knowing the trap has been sprung.  Will the spring loaded wire catch the rat?  Only time will tell.  Seconds later he can hear the twin twang of bowshots and the plucky mage-thief giggles internally with delight as he hears the bird cry out in pain and he smells blood in the air.

As it races off he knows this too is part of the game.  Following the wounded prey until it can run no more or corners itself.  Razzel, not wanting to burn himself out, bounds off at a lope after his prey.


OOC:
Could I tell if the bird was hit by 1 or both arrows?

Dont sprint.  Follow at a lope.  Do my best to track it using the scent of the blood.

Finn lopes gracefully after the bird, his paws flitting between the dry summer grasses as he easily follows the the massive bird whose massive fingers and claws leave gouge marks on the earth as it runs.

Finn has hunted before, though it has not been often that he has done so in the form of an animal.  He is always surprised each time by the amount of patience a hunt requires, by the investment of time that goes into the process.

Minute after minute slinks by, Finn still following the trail of blood and churned earth.  Bit by bit, the smell of blood fades, the patters of bright red growing less and less, though the flavor still remains at the top of Finn's palate.  The dry air sucks the moisture from Finn's soft nose as he remarks again to himself that this is not a conducive place for tigers.

Still, slowly but surely, Finn managed to catch up to the bird.  Once or twice he spooks the thing, setting it off into another jog, though as the minutes ebb by, and he is nearly set to give up the chase, Finn tops over a rise and finds the bird some hundred yards off, digging at the earth again.

OOC:  This post encompasses to 20 minutes of loping behind the strider and you have well outpaced the others.  You are left with 35 minutes or so in your tiger form without renewing the spell.  You can sneak up on or charge straight at the bird, or take another tack if you wish.  If you opt to sneak up, make a roll vs. Stealth.  This will be a contest of skills with the bird's perception, with you at the disadvantage since the bird already knows you are around.  You may improve your score by increasing the time you are taking sneaking up on the bird.  Normally under stealth it would take you about 2 minutes to get there.  Every factor of 2 you increase the time gives you a plus one modifier (so taking 4 minutes would be +1, 8 minutes +2, 16 minutes +3, etc.).  If you opt for this modifier, please include it in your roll.  You are still at full move and dodge, but only need to lose 2 more fatigue to go to half move and dodge.

Finn Razzel is a man ahead of his time.  Everyone says it.  Finn doesn't really know anyone who says it, except himself of course, but he is sure people are saying it when they talk about him.  In a different world in a different time Finn would probably be an actuarial at a large insurance firm.  His job would be to take a pile of seemingly unrelated data and with it calculate the odds of certain outcomes.  Because Finn does this constantly in his own life.  Most who only know Finn casually think he is a gambler, likely because he wins so often.  But nothing is farther from the truth.  Razzel does not bet on purely random events.

Finn the tiger lopes along easily following the turned up terrain from the large birds enormous feet.  While its size was a definite disadvantage in attacking it its size proves making it exceptionally easy to track.  That and its wound.

Cresting over the top of a low hill Finn spots his prey once again.  Immediately his mind begins whirring, calculating the odds.  If he fails this time he might have one more solid chance and that solely depends on how much time it takes to sneak up on the bird here.  His men wont be of help unless he waits for them, and if they've lost the trail they might not show up until well after his spell has ended.  No, if Finn wants to solve their food problem its now.  He must act and alone.

The great hunting feline with the brilliant mind crouches low so not to be seen.  He spies the thing anxiously poking its head and looking around occasionally.  Finn knows that it knows he is out there, somewhere.  He must be cautious if he wants to trap this rat.  Moving quietly, and with a patience he is not known for, he moves in.


OOC:
Sneak up on the bird.  When I get in range opt for a Run & Attack (Wild Swing).  Attempt to bite.

Finn takes far longer stalking the bird than he thinks he needs.  After all, he's not the greatest treasure hunter of all time for nothing.  Still, an abundance of caution was not a bad idea, especially given the fact that the bird ran so much faster than Finn did when it put its mind to it.  Arcing far wider, approaching from an angle that seemed most advantageous... Finn stalks as close as he can before charging at the bird.

It is perhaps not quite as successful as he wished.

Finn dives at the bird, who notices him at the last moment and charges away, leaving Finn's teeth near a half a foot short of the thick, giraffe-like legs.  Finn redirects his massive body as he dashes forward madly.  He does not slow his charge even slightly, his breathing coming now in mad pants as his tongue lolls out off the edge of his front teeth.  For the moment, Finn seems fast enough to manage keeping up...

OOC:  You managed to get close enough on the stealth contest to get an attack in, though you alerted the bird and he was moving as you got there.  You are both now moving at speed, you are behind the bird and can manage one more attack (at speed - either a wild swing or a slam/pounce) before he starts to outpace you with his much longer legs.

Finn is beginning to get irritated.  Twice now he has failed to take down this giant bird.  Sure, this thing was ten feet tall and out weighed him but he was a tiger!  The greatest of all feline predators.  As Finns cat legs begin to churn and grind into the chase he wondered almost absent mindedly.  Did the teacher who sold him this spell give him a defective version?  Does the wording and finger movements of this incantation produce a sickly tiger?

Pushing such trivial garbage from his mind he again focuses on the hunt.  He must time it right.  When he sees the leg come back close enough for him to grab onto Razzel lurches out with all his might.


OOC:
Lets try a Wild Swing to try to grab onto it and make it trip.

His paws surging underneath his body, Finn reaches with his razor-sharp teeth, snapping at a leg just as it is stretched backwards in the bird's long stride.

However, it is simply not to be.  Finn's jaws clamp just shy of the leg, and within another moment the thing is gone again, sprinting out of reach along the slopes of the steep hillside.

OOC:  Rough luck.  I see why you did success points in your game rather than single issuances of the luck advantage.  The bird sprints well beyond your reach and will keep sprinting until he's a few hundred yards ahead.  You have the same options as before, you can try and sprint to keep up, keep up at a lope or a walk, or just give up.  If you go at a run, you'll need to roll against HT every 10 seconds, If you go at a lope, you'll need to make an HT roll for every minute (against Tiger HT).  Remember that you are just 2 FP from being half move and dodge.  If you want to go after the bird at anything other than a sprint, roll vs. tracking (your skill) and let me know what your general plan is.  I probably won't know how many HT rolls are needed until I do some significant math, though last time it was on the order of 18.

Finn feels exhilarated by the new fresh sensations of his cat body.  Everything feels different, it all smells different.  His muscles are so powerful and at the same time loose.  Oh to have this power all day every day in his own body.  Now that would be powerful magic!

He knows what he must do and how he will do it.  He can see his mouth reaching out and grabbing hold of the leg.  He tenses and exerts himself to his maximum.  But it is not to be.  The quicker bird simply snatches itself from his trap and using its superior legs sprints far enough away to escape his deadly jaws.

Razzel's padded feet slow to a walk and then he stops, staring at the huge avian meat covered body get smaller and smaller in the distance.  How many meals would that thing have been?  But before Finn can dive into self pity he redirects, as he so often does.  Damn bird was prob'ly all grissle an' fat anyways.  He thinks to himself.


OOC:
Lol.  I remember when Rylock fell into the river while the evil band of thieves was escorting him to the ransom point.  I had to succeed in a Swimming roll.  Each failure meant the loss of 1 FP.  If I couldn't succeed before I reached 0 I would pass out and die from drowning.  I didn't have any HPs.  I made it just barely with 1 FP left.  My aim at having success points instead of hero points was two fold.  As you pointed out one was to avoid the frustration of rolling a bunch of times and still failing.  But the other was that my success points were earned and couldn't be purchased.  I wanted to reward players for hard work at writing and RP.

Ya, I give up, lol.  If I could somehow find the bird again likely I'd be fighting below 1/3 FP and I've learned the hard way that's bad news.  So turn around and jog back at a pace that doesn't burn FP.  Travel until the spell wears off and let it end naturally.  Then continue my way back to the others.  When I get there explain what happened, rest and then we'll set out again.

Finn's chapped nose huffs outward with each breath as he watches the bird speed away at an unnatural pace.  While he wants to keep up the chase, and feels confident he could pull the thing down with just a single lucky break, Finn knows well enough not to push exhaustion.  Consciously turning his frustration into cynicism, Finn begins his way back to the others at a leisurely walk.

The trek takes far longer than Finn expects.  His spell lapses after only twenty minutes, leaving Finn in the form of a man, near exhausted, weaponless, and baking in the mid-afternoon heat.  Still he pushes on.  Minutes pass, maybe an hour.  The sweat beads on Finn's face as his body aches beneath him.

He should be there by now shouldn't he? For the briefest of moments, Finn doubts his own path as the sun begins to plummet down towards the horizon.  He did not want to be alone by himself at night if he could help it.

Luckily, just as Finn is thinking of resting and scouting the nearby area as a bird rather than from the ground, he sees a massive, hunchbacked form at the top of the next rise.  It does not take long to recognize the expansive lump as Munt, and before long, Finn is back with his group.

Finn rests as he relays his tale, Omar seems somewhat glum about the outcome, though he pushes it aside with a shrug.  "Could have been worse.  Nobody got hurt.  Would have been a hell of a job trying to find the thing and flay it once it got out of our noose too.  Sounds like you chased it a few miles at least."

Though Finn had been eager to get a move on, by the time he was rested enough to go the sun was already on a collision course with the horizon.  "Maybe we should just wait until tomorrow morning?"  Labid offers, handing Finn's bow back to him.  "I bet we don't have more than an hour before things start getting dark.  And we already found a decent bit of shelter here while we've been resting."

OOC:  I thought about fast forwarding a few days (and I've done the food accounting through 28 May, even though this is still the 26th) but then I remembered that you had wanted to bring up some questions to Munt.  Feel free to move yourself forward if you wish, make camp here or keep walking, Munt won't normally initiate conversations about himself, but he'll respond if you ask him questions.

Once reunited and able to speak Razzel pats Omar on the shoulder, glad the man is taking the lighter side of things.  ”Exactly.  No'body was hurt an' we lost nothin'.  We'll just keep 'er eyes peeled an' somethin' 'ill turnip.”

It takes the others no effort at all to convince the wily mage-thief that the most prudent decision is to bed down for the night rather than give up their solid shelter when night is so near.  While the men ready themselves for slumber and the watch in their own way Finn gets close to Munt, deciding that this is as good a time as any to flex his curiosity.

Finn looks the man up and down appraisingly but careful not to judge.  Some shut down when they feel they are being criticized and in truth Finn is merely curious.  ”Munt.  You didn't bring nothin.  No food, no bed.  No flint...'er rope 'er ax.  What gives?  You take a vow 'a poverty 'er somethin' ?”


OOC:
Ok, sounds good.  We'll stop here for a brief RP convo with Munt.  You did say recently that he's just weird and not to expect a lot out of it so we can touch on the idea that Finn is curious but I don't think we need a bunch of back and forth.

Regarding the food situation Finn would want to solve it before it grows out of hand, but at the same time he isn't worried about it because through his massive talents things seem to have a way of working themselves out.  Overall since we're not on any kind of schedule and these guys are more or less hirelings Finn doesn't feel rushed.  Ie, I dont have a boss to answer to.  And the last thing we want to worry about in the middle of a ruins exploration, is food.  So my plan is to find days worth of food before we get to where we're going.  The overall plan is this.  Each morning when we are ready to break camp Finn will turn into a falcon.  Again, after explaining in detail what is about to happen since he cant speak while in animal form.  I don't want the men guessing or shooting me while in animal form.  Finn will fly up high to get a birds eye view of the surrounding land, and if necessary fly in a circle with the group as the center.  If Finn sees nothing he will land, change back into a man, rest and we'll begin marching onwards.  If Finn sees something he will fly down and land on Omars arm.  Finn will do his best to communicate the direction.  The men are to ask about distance like this.  “Less than a mile?”.  Finn will nod his tiny bird head, or shake it side to side.  This isn't perfect but it should give the men a rough idea of how far our prey is.  I will stay in bird form so that I can fly up, get a view, and redirect the men to a new course if necessary.  We will do this 2x daily until we find food.  Once when we break camp and once at around 4 pm so there is plenty of light left should we find something.

The three set up for the night, still somewhat disappointed in the loss of the striders, though upbeat about their potential for future hunts.  As the afternoon withers away into evening, Finn takes a moment to ask Munt about his suspicious lack of any worldly goods.

In response, Munt's face seems more confused than anything else.  He quirks an eyebrow at Finn's suggestion that he has taken a vow of poverty, though eventually he shakes his head.

"Should I have an axe?"  He asks Finn.  "I've no need for a bed, so it doesn't seem worth it to carry one with me.  The ground is just as good if I need to lay down.  As for food, I will eat what nature provides.  There is always food."

Finn tries to drive the point further, though Munt merely shakes his head.  "Perhaps you carry too much instead.  You may have a bed, a tent, and fire, but I see little point in those things."

The last comment makes Finn somewhat more agitated, sputtering at the fact that without fire, they wouldn't be able to cook or smoke any of the game they eventually bring down.  Again, Munt shrugs as if this possibility isn't worth considering.

Finn sets the watch order for the night.  Munt offers to take the whole watch, though Finn throws the suggestion to the side, insisting that the work be split evenly.  To his great surprise however, Munt ends up staying up the whole night anyway, silently sitting with each of the men as they stand their turn, or else conversing in his soothing baritone.

Finn takes the opportunity during his watch to ask Munt more questions.  What he finds disturbs him slightly...  Munt doesn't sleep, he finds that cooking raw meat is mostly a waste of time (though he does not complain of it), and he does seem to be able to eat literally anything.  He seems to make a point of it by grabbing a handful of the high plains grasses, chewing on them, stalk and all as a sort of midnight snack.

The next day passes mostly uneventfully.  Finn comes up with an elaborate plan, whereby he as a falcon would go out and scout for game, come back to Omar and go through an elaborate series of questions to determine where the game lies.

Omar laughs at the suggestion, then offers that they simply hunt like normal falconry.  He goes on to explain how a trained falcon acts in a hunt, and Finn has to agree that the process will likely save time and effort for both of them.

The first attempt is massively successful, Finn finds a herd of antelope and Omar approaches them from a flank, close enough to spear one of the larger animals through the chest with an arrow before the whole of the herd is spooked.  The shot is as good as it gets, driving the shaft clean into the animals ribs, knocking it to the ground.  Though the beast attempt to get back up and run, it does not make it far before collapsing again and bleeding to death without much farther effort from either of the two.  While Omar treats the kill, Finn waits for the spell to expire and the two man both carry back the prize to the applause of the others.

The next two days seem to drag on.  Omar and Finn attempt to reenact their first successful result, though the sticking point always seems to be Omar getting close enough to the game without spooking it.  Finn eventually submits to Munt standing the night watch by himself, after admitting that keeping two people awake was a waste of resources.

As the morning of the fourth day dawns, Finn wakes to find the mountains receding to the south and an odd image of solitary spires far off to the west.

"This is close to the edge of the mountains, where the caravan route approaches from the Southeast."  Bashar offers.  "It sounds like you were thinking that our goal was near here?"  Bashar asks.  "How are we going to find it again?"

OOC:  It is 0700 on 29 May.  You managed to get a significant amount of food from the antelope, enough for over a day's worth of eating for all of you.  Food is still dwindling.  You can notice the food you have left, there are also 17 rations left in the group horde.  Munt is no longer eating out of the group stock, but instead has been pulling up grass and roots whenever there is a break, which seems to keep him happy.  From Munt's discussion, you should head south from here, though there isn't a whole lot of clarity as to how far.


A much closer view of what the spires to the east may look like

Munt was truly an oddity with no peer, such as the duck billed platypus or the great salt lake of Deneb where people can crawl on the waters surface.  The man is a picture of physical deformity but even more odd is his mind.  He is not only happy with his choice of no currency, no bed and no food but he seems proud of the lifestyle he's chosen.  Finn inquires deeper and deeper into the mystery expecting to eventually find some crack in the armor where he can point out Munts misguided plan and how it will someday backfire.  But there comes no such crack.  Finally Razzel quietly moves beyond and turns the conversation to another topic, deciding in the end that some mysteries just dont have a solution.

Over a few days time Finn and Omar embark on a simple yet complex plan to provide food.  Their immediate success of course gives a boost of already inflated confidence to Finn who naturally expects to be rewarded in like kind daily.  And as usual his disappointment is roughly muted as he instead sets his mind about to alternatives.

“How are we going to find it again?”, Bashar inquires.  Finn turns to him and scrunches his nose and mouth in thought while sighing deeply.  He cocks his head to one side while putting his brilliant mind to work.  ”Say Munt.  That poem you tol't 'bout.  Say it again.  The one from Haj Umr's books.”

Munt speaks again the simple lines.

"In a cave
On an island
On a lake
Where the phantoms drift.
On a mountain
In the forest
At the edge
Where the ancients keep."


OOC:
Slight edit to the plan with Omar.  We will continue with me as a falcon as stated previously.   However Omar will bring along my bow & arrows and weapon belt.  If we spot something worth hunting I will turn back into a man.  Omar and I will use Stealth to sneak up on the prey from opposing sides using the natural terrain and winds to our best advantage.  Ie, we dont have to be exactly 180 degrees apart if the landscape suggests 130 degrees is better.  When I am within 30 yards I will take aim with my bow, Aim for maximum benefit and then fire.  Assuming the animal runs from me and more or less towards Omar he is to Aim for 1 turn and then throw his spear if in range.  If not, run to try to get in range.  I will continue to fire using 1 turn to Aim for each shot after the first.

I'm kind of at a loss.  I looked back over the thread to see if there are clues as to what we should be looking for or where and I cant find much.  Sounds like we're in the relative place you mentioned awhile back, you said “It's just at the western foothills of the unnamed mountains in al-Wazif, near the 'n' in 'Pillars of Heaven.“  So we're in that general area now?

The above was a poem Munt recalled from transcribing the masters texts.

And to reboot my memory supposedly this place is called The Library of Malak Almawt?  And I don't see where anyone actually speculates what we might find there, other than magic.  I would like to ask Munt during our travels if he could speculate what he thinks might be there based on his time at the tower and time spent translating the texts.

So I guess we're looking for a forest on a mountain, and within that forest is a lake, and on that lake is an island and on the island is a cave.  Inside the cave is an intelligent vorpal sword +10 of giant slaying.  But its white.   And I wont find it til after Labor Day, so I wont be able to use it.

After Munt says the lines of the poem he nods emphatically for emphasis.

"Master had always said that fact and myth blurred almost incoherently in the history of Malak Almawt, though he was sure those few lines held the key to finding the remains of the keep.  There was little doubt in master's mind that the forests have receded drastically since that bit has been written, though the mountains have likely not changed much..."

Munt sighs.  "One of the texts that I copied was an account of the soldiers who had marched on the keep.  They described the very mountain the keep was sitting atop collapsing in on itself as the armies approached... as if the whole of the inside of the hill were hollow and the top had given way.  The soldiers went to the edge of the catastrophe and said all that was left of the keep were bits of the outer walls, sunken deep into the center of a massive crater..."

Munt pauses, grabbing a fist-full of the high grass which he begins to grind between his back teeth.

"Master was sure that what Almawt had done was not a spell of self-destruction, but one of self preservation.  That he had taken the whole of his keep, along with his library into the mountain..."  He pauses for a moment.  "I do not know about that, though I can say that the site should be fairly apparent when we find it."

OOC:  There is a bit more back story for you.  I'm sort of out of the rhythm of posting, and I don't feel like I did much justice to Munt's character here, though I imagine you will forgive me.  I'll keep rolling for your hunting attempts, and fast forwarding through them, rather than playing them out like the strider interactions.

For finding the 'library' you have a few options.  You can immediately head up into the mountains and start hiking the ridges as you go south and back east, or you can keep to the foothills, and try and recognize the mountain from the areas where travel will be easier.  Or you can try any other method you can think of.  I just need a way to try and figure out how to modify your perception rolls and the speed of your travels.  If you have a better method, feel free to describe it and I'll modify the rolls as makes sense to me.

Finn listens to Munt ramble on, hanging on the mans every word for some kind of clue as to where this magical trove might be tucked away.  He begins with 'Master had always said that fact and myth blurred almost incoherently in the history...'.  Razzel smiles in a relaxed way.  ”I think me an' 'ol Haj Umr wood'a got along famously.  I sees things the same.  The truth is nestled somewhere 'tween fact an' fiction.”

Finn pulls a piece of dried and salted meat from his belt pouch and begins chewing on the tough stringy thing while he looks out at the foothills of the mountain ahead.  He taps the meat stick against his lips several times without quite being aware of the silly behavior as he's lost deep in thought.  The vexing question haunts him, proceed to the library or delay to search for food?  This is the age old dilemma, do what is needed or do what is desired.


OOC:
No worries, that was just fine and helps.  Yes, please continue to roll for foraging.  As stated I feel as though once we find the library we'll be focused on exploring it and wont want to take breaks looking for food.  So it would be nice to score some major food before finding the library.  In fact Finn would make this a priority.

Rather than wander all over the mountainside with little to no food here is my plan.  When I change into a falcon to scout for food I will take a detour to fly over the mountain to see if I can spot any of the above mentioned clues.  A forest.  A lake.  A hill that has turned into a sinkhole.  The plan will be to forage for food as described earlier, but stay in falcon form 1 extra hour.  This extra hour in falcon form will be used to search for clues about the library.  If at any time I spot food and it is reasonable to bring the group to it then abandon the search for the library to attempt to capture some food asap.

Though Finn hunts again that night, and again the next morning, he finds himself foiled twice because of clouds and wind that keeps his flying low and turbulent.  It seems to have the added affect of keeping most animals to their burrows and the larger game bedded down.  When the rain and thunder start, Finn decides that the attempt is more trouble than it is worth.

The weather has cleared though on the second morning and as Finn takes to the skies and he has an overwhelming feeling of confidence despite their recent poor showings.  Sure enough, almost before he has even managed his normal cruising altitude, Finn spots an entire herd of antelope, gorging themselves on the freshly dewed morning grass.  Finn screams in his falcon voice, heading straight for the herd as he watches Omar start into a jog on the hills below.

Finn is so sure of their triumph that he barely watches as Omar crawls at a painstakingly slow pace towards the herd, as he loads his arrow, as he flings the bolt a dozen paces at one of the largest of the animals.  As the arrow misses.

Wait, he missed!?  Finn's falcon eyes stare daggers at the ground below, burning holes in the expert hunter, and watching the herd as they spring away towards the lower ground.  Finn's beak is set tight like a grinding jaw as he glides along, trying to stay over the herd as they flee, daring Omar to give up the chase.

The man does not however.  Jogging along well in trail of the antelope he follows for nearly a half an hour until the herd settle again.  He stalks in closer.  He pulls back the string.  Finn watches as the arrow buries itself to the fletching in one of the larger male's chest.

The beast launches itself forward with its back feet, though when it lands on its front, it collapses to the ground, twitching.

Finn whirls in the air, shifting his glide down towards the south.

Omar would not have any trouble cleaning and carrying the meat, and besides, it was his own fault that he had to haul it back so far.  Finn had more concerning things, like finding the keep of Malak Almawt.

They had turned south two days previous, following the mountains as they curved southwards and then slightly back to the east.   Finn had been searching as part of his hunting ritual, trying to find anything that looked remotely like the riddle had suggested.  To this point he had not found much of anything to report.  A mountain lake or two, but nothing that had seemed to really fit the bill.

Though when Finn notes an oddly shaped mountain, not a single peak like normal, but an odd ring shape of peaks thrusting out of a low fog, he feels the chances are good enough that it is worth further investigating.  Finding a bit of a hole in the layer, Finn edges down into the cloud, dipping low enough that he just barely begins to see the clear grey reflection on the surface of a lake below...

OOC it is 0830 on the 31st of May.  You have been flying for about an hour and a half, having already upkept your shapeshift spell once, and are down 9 fatigue (your spell failed once).  Your spell will renew in another 30 minutes.  You would say that you are about a 15 minute flight from camp.  You have been in a bird form long enough that you know that flying in bad visibility can be exceedingly dangerous, especially in mountains.  If you want to keep looking around at a low altitude, roll vs. Perception-5.  General picture below, just remove all the snow.

Finn spends hours in bird form, which he doesn't do often and as such the sensations of his animal vision, smelling and hearing are a bit shocking in contrast to his mundane human body.  The transformation is both exhilarating and somewhat scary.  From high above the ground it takes him days to become accustomed to his new high powered senses.  Yet despite this advantage are the alarming disadvantages.  He is so small with weapons only fit for something equal to his size or smaller.  Truly stupendous animals these falcons.

During the hours spent riding the winds unable to speak Finn amuses himself wondering what humans would do with animal parts and vice versa.  Particularly he wonders how the game of crook and constable would play out with bird eyes, dog noses, cat paws and mouse ears.  And then he recalls a story he heard in his younger days.  He cannot remember the origin but some far off peoples have a creation myth that involves an early meeting.  The chief of the gods tells his underlings that they will convene at first light the next morning to construct all of the animals.  Early do the gods show up.  The first goes and he selects powerful legs, sharp teeth and eyes that can see well in the dark.  He builds a predatory great cat.  The next god takes her turn.  From a large pile of parts she grabs enormously thick legs, a long nose that can grab things like a long finger and a good strong mind.  She makes an elephant.  And so it goes one after the other long into the afternoon.  And then before the supper hour a god of leisure shows up, having over slept from too much fine wine.  All that remains of the pile of parts for this final creation, the last animal to be introduced, are sub par pieces.  Weak muscles.  Poor eyes.  Noses that detect only smells at close range.  No claws.  No webbing, poison, armor or fangs.  Nothing out of the ordinary to ensure some advantage for offense or defense.  And this jonny-come-lately, what was their assigned animal?  Man.

And then Razzel is pulled from his day dreaming with the sight of what looks like the library.  For several long moments he giggles to himself which comes out as a series of short high pitched squawks.  He dives lower hoping to see more concrete signs.


OOC:
The story is a real creation myth I heard years ago.  It comes from one of the Native American tribes but I cant remember which one.

Fly lower.  I want to get confirmation that this looks like a place worth investigating more.  By flying lower I want to know if I should come back with the team to investigate further or can I cross this place off the list and never come back.  After a brief closer look return to camp and tell of what I discovered.

It was not my intent to make Omar carry the food back to camp while I flew on, but it works.

Wanting to get a better look around, Finn arcs around, hoping to see some clear signal that this, indeed, is the site of Malak Almawt's keep.  The damn cloud though, continues to be a nuisance.  Hoping to keep clear, Finn reverses his direction back around, and away from the edge of the basin shaped mountain rim.

But even with this precaution, Finn quickly plunges into the thick and milky white of the low hanging cloud.

Everything grays out, and Finn can feel the moist air hitting his feathers and slicking backwards.  While Finn knows that his wings are well strong enough to keep him aloft, even if it begins to rain, the thought of continuing on without being able to see anything is near horrifying, for flying into a mountain even at moderate speeds could likely break his neck.  One way or other, he'll have to do something, whether it be dropping to the lake below or climbing back above the low layer of cloud.

OOC:  Since you didn't attempt the Per roll, I tried it for you and it failed.  The intent was that you were looking for a hole in the clouds to keep looking for lower flight.  You have a couple of options here, you can try and climb, knowing that eventually you will break out above the clouds (so long as you don't hit a mountain first) or you can descend, hoping that you will break out below the clouds (so long as you don't hit a mountain or a keep and assuming that the clouds do actually break before the surface of the lake).  While hitting the lake is a little disconcerting it is unlikely to significantly hurt you and you are unlikely to find anything else if you climb up.  Hitting something hard though, would definitely be a problem. If you wish to go down, give me a risk/reward modifier that gives me a feel for how far you are willing to press things.  1 for a timid minute of gliding lower before climbing back up to 10 of going down all the way until you hit the lake if need be.  The modifier will be applied positively to your perception roll of finding anything and negatively to your chances of hitting something on your way down.

Finn the falcon glides while occassionally flapping his small avian wings.  While he has been a falcon several times since learning the spell the sensation is still as new as the first time seeing that he casts the incantation so infrequently.

While observers wouldn't notice the subtle curling of his beak bird Finn is smiling as he descends.  All is going well.  His servants are acting like...well, paid servants.  There is a definite lack of contradictory opinions flying about day and night.

Tipping his wings and lowering his tiny head he dips lower to discover just how low the clouds go.


OOC:
R/R is 3 out of 10.  Cautious side.  Take it slow enough that if the clouds do go all the way to the lake I'm going slow enough to have a decent chance of pulling back up.  Hopefully the lower peek will be the confirmation I need that this is the library and I can bring the team here.

His mind in a mild panic for several moments, Finn forces himself to calm down, knowing that there couldn't be anything reaching quite up this high.  Slowing himself down to a glide, and slowly descending, Finn presses his luck just a touch (though it hasn't every really been that good he reminds himself) in hoping for a quick way out of the cloud and and into a spot where he can view the ground below.

Slowly he glides, feeling the wet, cold air slap against his wings, desperately trying to pierce the thick, dense fog with his vision as his head cranes this way and that in anticipation.  Just a moment longer.

Just a moment longer.

It is not something he sees, but something that Finn hears that catches his attention.  A woman's voice, high and cold.

"He needs more, another sacrifice..."

Finn turns his head slightly towards the sound, feeling his body and wings arc ever so slightly with the movement.

That way.  Finn thinks though the thought does not last long.

From the thick of the cloud, less than a dozen yards away, a massive spire erupts from the nothing, filling up most of the space of Finn's vision.  Black, stone and massive the thing looms, hurtling towards him far too fast for comfort...

OOC:  Actually, you made all of your rolls.  I decided to get your unluckiness out of the way early so I didn't forget in this adventure.  You have a couple of options here.  You can roll vs. aerobatics (defaults to DX-4) to miss the tower entirely, or you can roll vs. DX to try and defray the situation so that you don't hit the stone beak first.  While you aren't going super fast, you also don't have a ton of HPs in this form, so breaking your neck is a very real possibility.

Confirmation.  That's all he wanted.  True the sensations of being a bird, this tiny body light as a feather flying high on the winds.  Everything seen through powerful predatory avian eyes.  That was all thrilling.  But turning from a man into a small bird had its downside.  The metamorphosis wasn't exactly a tickle fest, and being the size of a house cat meant that Razzel had to constantly watch for larger and meaner predators that didn't mind spitting out beaks and talons.  So Finn's plan is to find enough evidence that this place is worth looking into further, with his team in tow, and then he can  head back to camp to retrieve them.  And return in his natural safer form.

But suddenly a woman's voice rips at his attention.  Yes, that is confirmation alright.  But not satisfied with a mere sound the plucky mage-thief banks towards the speech.  But all is not well when out of the mist a tall black tower emerges, right in front of him!

The little scout does his best to turn, trying to roll his body and flap his little wings furiously.


OOC:
I rolled against DX to defray since my odds were better.  Lol.  The dice roller hates me.  The dice rolling I do should count as bad luck.  Didn't I recently burn 2 Hero Points and couldn't make the roll I wanted in 8 rolls? 

His heart suddenly thudding like a timpani drum, Finn flares his body and wings like a giant air brake, feeling his body climb slightly as it slows.  Still, the tower crashes towards him at an impossible speed!  Finn pushes out his feet, trying to get something between himself and the stone... after all, a broken leg was much better than smashing into it chest or beak first... though it would make flying back something of a problem.

In only an instant, the tower is upon him and Finn pushes off with his legs.  Miracle!  He is at enough of an angle it seems, that the impact softens into his knees, and for the moment, he is unhurt.

For the moment.

It only takes a second to realize that Finn has more troubles coming.

For Finn's momentum was entirely stopped.  And though he managed to keep from smashing headfirst into the tower, he still finds himself maybe fifty or a hundred off the ground (it is impossible to tell, for the fog still obscures the ground) trying to cling onto a vertical surface.

Like a child's cartoon, Finn attempts to grasp on to the stone for a moment with his feet, before his body starts plummeting again, this time at full speed towards the ground!  His heart thumping in his face and ears, Finn reorients himself, flares hard to slow his speed, and breaks out of the cloud just a few dozen feet above the ground.  He grips out at the first thing he sees, a bit of ruined wall, and he touches down, none the worse for wear.

Almost disbelieving, Finn settles onto the perch, his vision tunneled and his heart bursting out of his feathers.

"Malakai has said that only when the altar lays thick with blood can the ritual truly be performed.  Skoulos has slept long, he needs to be enticed from his sleep."

Finn looks around from his high perch.  He seems to be on the ruined outer walls of an old keep.  The ground on the outside of the walls slopes slowly downward, intersecting with the lake after only a few dozen yards.  On the inside of the walls, a wide courtyard expands several dozen yards wide.  To his left, the high tower (the one that nearly killed him) climbs up into the cloud, with easily three stories visible above the ground.  At the base of the tower is a large stone altar, spattered with maroon stains where a tall, black haired woman in dark robes stands next to a much smaller and stouter man.

Finn looks to the right, where the wall collapses away into an upwards slope.  Near the center of the slope, a wide cave yawns like an open maw, where a thin milky smoke billows into the courtyard ahead.



OOC:  Rather than asking a bunch more rolls for you, I went ahead and made them.  You completely lucked out on the damage roll, which had about a 50% chance of breaking your leg and ended up with no damage at all.  You managed to make your follow on rolls as well, and have landed atop a dilapidated stone wall.

A quiet content Finn Razzel sits atop a crumbling ancient wall and looks around him.  Yes, indeed this is the place.  He couldn't mistake it for anything else if it smacked him hard in the face, and it almost did!  The lake, the cave, the island, the mountain and if that weren't enough, the mention of the name Malakai.  Jogging his memory Finn recalls that is the very name of the man who took the manuscripts of this place directly from Munt.  Coincidence? Perhaps.  Malakai could be a common Wazif name.  But an unlikely coincidence given the geography.

And then the plucky mage-thief revels for a moment in the supreme satisfaction of what led him here.  His ability to lay as spy, disguised as a bird, is nothing short of the result of hard years of work and toil.  Razzel could not afford the luxury of  proper school teachings such as Judoc had.  No.  If Finn wanted to develop his natural gift for bending nature he had to fight for every farthing, struggle for every silver penny, and he needed bags full to pay for the handful of spells his teachers were willing to share.  The best incantations are too expensive and so Finn is forced to find them in places like this.  In a moment of sadness he reflects how close he came to a sudden and violent increase in knowledge.  He and Judoc were about to learn new and wonderful secrets.  Spells they had dreamed of for so long.  He read the titles.  He skimmed the pages upon pages of complicated rituals.  Yet he had not had the time to truly study them and make them his own.  And like a lover that dances into your life for a day or two and then is gone, so too were the infinitely valuable spells when the Wazifi's set them on fire.

Finn smiles a little cocky smile which in this form is imperceptible.  But he is giddy that in this form his mind is intact which means he is the perfect scout.  He is able to eavesdrop upon the enemy while they are none the wiser and his ability to fly combined with his small size makes him ideal as a long range spy.  Who else does he know, save for maybe Judoc and a few others from home who could accomplish this feat.  None!

While Finn half listens he devotes his attention to his new surroundings.  He observes the walls.  The lake.  The cave mouth.  And then his keen falcon eyes scan for signs of sentries.  A scheduled watch perhaps.  A table or rack to store weapons should guards here want to defend the island from invaders.  But he spots no such things.  Then it dawns upon him.  So few people know about this place.  Or would venture down into a lake filled crater if for some weird reason they discovered it by walking for a day up the rocky mountain slope.  And then another oddity occurs to Razzel.  They need sacrifice.  But from where?  Surely not their own.  So then where?  Who was it that mentioned something about a caravan route?  And how far is that from here?  One day?  Two?  That is most likely where they would get a supply of the occasional victims for bloody sacrifice.


OOC:
Change out of falcon form and cast Identify Blood upon the alter.  Ok, all kidding aside many years ago I played with someone who did that.  It was D&D and there was no such spell. But they could tell the GM was day dreaming.  It was a murder investigation.  So they said they were casting it.  The GM replied that it was elf blood and about 6 days old before he realized he had been duped.

The real plan is sit there for another hour observing.  I want to watch until there is nothing to watch or they invade my space too much, or 1 more passes whichever comes first.  Ie, if they all go inside and there is nothing to watch casually fly back to camp.  If they spot me and decide to come at me then act like a natural falcon protecting itself.  Fly off in the wrong direction and then circle back to camp.  Either way when I get back, change into human form and relate what I saw.  Then ask about caravan routes and where it is likely they would snatch victims.

Finn continues to listen.  Certainly there was more to be heard here.  He hadn't really expected to hear of Malakai again, though apparently the man had found the lair first... an irksome problem.

And he wanted sacrifices.

Any information at this point could only help.

Unfortunately, he wasn't about to get anymore.

"I'll take care of it."  The stocky man says, as he starts to walk back towards the large spire.

Finn sits and watches the tall woman, who stands for a moment on the spot, before glancing up at the wall where Finn sits.

Finn smirks.  Or at least he would have, if he had human expressions.  The fine tuning of expressions of the avian face and beak were things that Finn had yet to master.  He continues to watch the woman, wondering what exactly she was doing...

She had something in her hands.  Something black and about the size of a lemon.  No, maybe a bit bigger like a grapefruit.  He couldn't quite make out the fine edges of the shape, her hands blocked some of the view.  It was only when the item came hurtling towards Finn that he fully realized what it was.

A spell.  And not a friendly one.

---

Just under a half an hour later, Finn is laying on the grass.  Omar had returned some five minutes ago, and while the huntsman was busy skinning and flaying the kill and setting the strips to dry over the fire, Finn had gone through the basics of the what his investigations had uncovered.

"So what's the plan then?"  Labid asks, laying down on his own, though he is propped up on his elbows, glancing back and forth between Omar and Finn.  "Just head straight there?  Sounds like they're raving heretics...  I doubt they are going to want any company."

OOC:  You sort of talked about your plan already I think, but I just want to give you a chance to solidify it before we move on.  Your further investigations led to nothing, unfortunately, I rolled perception for the woman and she crit succeeded it (just your luck).  So per your instructions you flew off in the opposite direction and then headed back to camp.  Let me know if you just want to fast forward and to where.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:03, Mon 10 Aug 2020.

Finn is tired but far from the worst he's ever felt.  The process of bending the forces of nature requires intense and constant mental stimulation.  It might seem odd that such demands of the mind could drain the body but there it is.  One cannot argue with results.  The young leader lies in the grass, half embracing day dreams of the magical tomes and volumes found within the cave network soon to be his.  And the gold and silver too!  If these scourge of the civilized world were stealing victims from nearby caravans for their sacrifices then surely some of that wealth made the trip in packs and pouches to the spire by the lake.

Finn nods to Omar a sign of respect.  The plucky mage-thief didn't expect anything else but he was gladdened to see his hired warrior fulfilling his duty by hefting the boon of their kill all the way back to camp alone.  ”Thanks”, is all Razzel offers before slumping down for a long rest.

Finn relays everything he has seen in painful but short detail.  He wants his hirelings to know what they are up against.  He has been a hireling in his younger days and it doesn't do well when the hired help are surprised by things they shouldn't have been surprised by, such as guard posts or the pretty merchants daughter is in reality a boy who likes to put on dresses and wigs.  But its more than that.  Finn knows that when subordinates are surprised by things they should have known it tends to lower morale.  And as a stranger in a strange land Finn's success here partially depends on the kindness of his indigenous escorts.

He turns his head and the smile fades from his face.  ”Jus' the opposite I'm 'fraid.  They want us ta come.  So's they can catch us, string us up, an' gut us all.  They need ta kill people.  Sacrifices.  For Skoulos.  Whoever that is.  Name ring a bell for any of ya?  Anyways, you all need ta know what yer gittin' inta.  This is gonna take a lot 'a sneakin.  The longer they dont know we're there the better fer us.  If any 'a you want out now's the time ta say so.”


OOC:
Outlay the overall plan.  After I am done resting we begin a controlled march towards the rim with the plan to camp before we reach the top.  Sometime after dark I will turn into a falcon and scout the spire, lake, keep and cave.  The big picture plan is to get the group inside and take what we want.  And if this is some evil cult most likely kill them.  I dont like the idea of them kidnapping and murdering innocent caravan goers and I doubt they do either.  The details will be determined as I get more intel.

If anyone wants to back down now I wont hold a grudge.  They are free to go with pay for time served.  But I want them to understand the risk they are taking by going forward.  If we are captured they will want to sacrifice us.  That said, I will of course sell our success partially on my talents as a mage-thief and my already vast successes; ie, the two missions with Behar and the two missions with the necromancers.
 

"Skoulos?"  Munt repeats the name softly.  "There was nothing that I copied over from the histories with that name."

The rest of the men just shrug, as well throwing off the suggestion that they leave now if they wish.

"Nah."  Omar offers, stripping off a thin ream of flesh off of the antelope carcass, and putting it on a makeshift rack made of a few sticks to dry.  "I figure we're paid for another two days.  Might as well at least give what we're hired for."

Omar pauses for a moment, looking up towards Finn.

"Besides, these seem like the worst sorts of infidels, talking of offering blood sacrificing to whatever 'Skoulos' is.  Wouldn't hurt to stick a sword in a few of them just to cull their enthusiasm."

Labid chuckles, his body lain out on the ground with his arms shading his face.  "Yeah, but mostly just the money."

It takes Omar an hour or so to prepare the kill, time which Finn begrudgingly accepts cannot be used in any other way.  The others clean up camp and prepare to move on, and Omar fixes a few sticks on to each of the mens' packs, allowing for the meat to dry while they walk.

"It'll save us some time."  Omar explains when Labid asks why they don't just smoke it.  "It takes most of a day to dry the meat out, but we can do it while we're walking.  Making a fire and cooking it or smoking it we have to stay here."

Finn has to get his bearings as the five pick up camp, though it does not take him long to point them in the right direction.  They make it to the base of the mountain by early afternoon, and by the sun is beginning to set off to their West they have made the trek nearly all the way to the summit of the hill.

"Set up camp here?  Or do you want to keep on?"  Behar asks, stooping for a moment in the shade of a scrawny fir tree.  The the inflection in his voice makes it obvious he would prefer the former.

OOC:  It is 1830 on the 31st of May.  You have made it to maybe a couple of miles and a few hundred feet below the rim of the mountain.  You have maybe just under an hour of sunlight left in the day.  Let me know if you want to push everyone up to the top, or if you just want to start your scouting from here.  Roll vs. HT-4, however much you fail the roll by is how much fatigue you are down from the arduous day of climbing.

Still very tired from his exhaustive spell casting and reconnaissance mission but feeling better Finn raises his upper body to an inclined position while his legs remained prone on the ground.  He wanted to see all the men's faces while they discussed whether they would back out or continue onward into certain danger.  Only Munt was a sure thing Razzell felt based on his interaction back in Al Hassan.  Finn was confident in his ability to plan to the situation but the thought of taking on a crazy murderous cult with only two men was disturbing.  And so as everyone still seems to be committed the plucky happy-go-lucky mage-thief breathes a sigh of relief.

Finns face turns serious for a moment.  ”Believe me.  Don't believe me, I don't care.  This aint my home.  But, I rec'anize good 'an evil.  I don't care what color your skin is er what God ya pray to.  But I dont much like crazies thinkin' they can snatch up innocent travlers 'an gut for fun.  So much as I might talk 'bout getting' rich here I cant leave without seein' how many 'a them I can gut like they wanna do to travelers.”


OOC:
The plan is to make camp here.  I will instruct the men that the tall lady is a spell caster.  Just like Haj Omr had an apprentice its possible she might have one, or more likely she is the apprentice to Malakai.  What this means is that they could find the camp and attempt to attack it at any time.  Just because we are out of sight doesn't mean we are safe.  I regard this as high probability since they said they are looking for more victims.  To this I will want to try to camouflage our camp as best as possible.  Off whatever looks like a trail down the mountain.  In a cave.  Behind some large rocks.  Anything is better than being out in the open.

I will cast falcon again.  While there is ample light fly around where we are to try to find a suitable camp in line with the above ideas.  Regardless of the outcome when my scouting is over I will rest to get back to full fatigue.  Renew the spell as necessary.  After dark I will fly back to the keep to spy on the keep, spire and cave mouth.  Decisions from that point will be based on what I see or don't see.   Explain my overall plan to the men before I go so there are as few surprises as possible.  My intent is to come back early enough to get a good night sleep.

Omar can figure out watches.
 

Behar nods at Finn's explanation, though he seems more relieved that the group has mostly finished their travel for the evening.  Finn turns into the bird of prey again and lifts up to the skies, finding quickly enough a copse of trees that should do enough to protect their position.  He does not note any paths larger than a game trail, and in his eagle mind, he wonders if the humans use this slope of the rock for travel at all.

Finn returns, guides his group to the patch of trees, does enough to set up for the night's camp, rests for just over an hour, until the sun dips down below the western hills, then takes to the skies again in his falcon form.

Slowly, Finn rides the currents of air, climbing up above the ridge of the mountain and swooping down within the bowl at the peak.

The thick, billowing cloud remains from his morning flight.  It fills the mountain bowl like a brimming soup, reflecting the dark reds and purples of the dusky sky, and obscuring any hint of what lurks below.

OOC:  Roll vs. vision-7 (the extra -2 is for low light conditions).  If you succeed, you find a sucker hole in the billowing cloud.  If you fail, you may take the same tactic as before, picking a risk modifier between 1 and 10, and plunging yourself into the cloud and hoping you break out on your way down.  I'm not sure we noticed this earlier, but your falcon vision is a roll against 15 with the per of 12 and the +3 for acute vision.  So it would be a roll against 8.  You do not get any bonuses for your human night vision.

Finn is quite pleased with himself.  After his initial aerial reconnaissance he picks out a nice hiding spot behind some trees.  Its about the best as one can hope for considering the terrain and time available to search, but of course Razzel rationalizes the find to his amazing skill.

Shortly after dark the plucky leader is flying high above the crater looking through the dense clouds.  Again the disparity between human physiology and animal physiology hits him like a ton of bricks.  These bird eyes, they are so different from his own.

Unable to spy a hole in the billowy soft layer of airborne fluff Finn angles himself downward, careful not to have a repeat of his earlier near miss of the tower.  It doesn't bode well to tempt fate too many times.


OOC:
Given what I know now about the layout of the island, spire and cave below, and the cover of the clouds above I want to be ultra cautious.    With 1 being the lowest risk and 10 being the highest risk I should choose a risk modifier of 1.  But because Finn is so cocky I will play to his Disads and choose a risk of 5.

Seeing no particularly straight forward way through the bank of cloud, Finn simply makes his way towards what seems to be the thinnest bit of grey haze and plunges his way through it.  For just a moment, Finn feels the shock of cold and wet, the complete blindness of being in a milk bowl - though mercifully, it only lasts a moment.  Right below him, Finn sees the glimmer of the lake and he swoops down in an arc, plunging out of the worst of the haze a hundred or so feet above the surface of the water.

Finn glides towards the island, which is easy to break out on the Western side of the large lake.  Being closer, and with a different angle towards the keep, Finn notes that the island actually nearly connects with the western shore of the rim.  There is perhaps only a gap of a hundred feet or so, and even that in between seems to be spotted with sodden masses that may not quite be as solid as the island, but may just be solid enough to travel across.

Finn plunges forward, looking ahead to the keep.  The whole thing seems to be dilapidated.  The stone of the front gate has seemed to have sunk into its foundations such that only six or seven feet of the entranceway are now above ground, though another several feet of the thick, stone bulwarks still manage to hold together above the opening.

On the Southeast corner of the wall is the tower, the largest feature of the keep still standing which climbs up nearly all the way to the base of the cloud.  Finn sees the cave too, which seems to open up within the hillside of the island, though there does not seem to be anyone about.

OOC:  If you want to scout anything in particular (Western approach, Keep Gate, Tower, North or South Walls, Cave, etc.), let me know where you want to look, and for how long (i.e. 'I want to scout the stone tower for 10 minutes') then make a roll vs. Perception for each item you are looking at.  If you have any particular instructions feel free to include them in your description or OOC, as they may result in an auto success of finding something that would normally require a perception success.  Below is a view of the island from the Western rim of the mountain, sans the keep.

Finn drifts slowly down and down, this time more careful about running into solid objects aided by the experience of what could be in his path.  In no time he finds himself flying around the small island in the dark.  At this point in the beginning of his adventure anything is helpful and the young mage-thief is almost literally trembling with excitement and curiosity in waiting to see what mysteries he will find.

But first things first.  He needs to scout out the terrain to know what he's getting into.


OOC:
Spend 10 minutes each on the western approach, keep gate and cave.  Be vigilant about sentries who might be about possibly taking shots at birds who are acting a bit too curious.  Investigate in the most common sense way.  For the western approach fly over.  If it seems safe go down and down until I can land and test a few spots on the ground while being on the ground.  I realize as a bird I dont have the same weight as a man, but being on the ground gives me a better assessment of if the ground is marshy and uncrossable.  Repeat the same tactic with the gate and cave.

Finn swoops down, looking to test the islands and the approach to the keep.  The first thing he notes as he swoops in closer is that there will be likely no need to swim across the lake at all.  For while there are several gaps between the small islands, someone has built bridges of sorts to fill in the gaps.  They are of simple make, simply five or six foot sections of thick tree trunks that are lashed together to span the distance, floating almost entirely submerged in the water below...  still, it will likely be enough to walk across with little more danger of drowning than just getting their feet wet.

Finn lands near the center of one of the small islands, looking to test if the land is truly crossable.  And while the earth does give beneath his claws, bringing a wet and murky dampness that spreads over the tops of his feet, he deems it sturdy enough to be passable on foot.  Glancing around at the waters around him, Finn notes a menagerie of life, from bugs and insects which buzz on the wet, marshy land to a handful of birds in a distant brush, to a small striped-backed squirrel which fetters on the nearby rim.  The surface of the water too ripples with the promise of life beneath.

Finn moves on towards the gate, which proves to have little real information to offer.  Canted to one side and overgrown with brambles, the keep’s gatehouse has sunken precariously into the earth over the years. The great portcullis lies on the soggy ground, overgrown with grasses, while the iron-banded gates sit rotting to one side.  Though there is only five or so feet of open gateway left above ground, it seems easy enough to go under while stooping slightly for a normal sized man.

Finn takes his time swooping over the rest of the walls, and notes several places where the walls have deteriorated and fallen away.  Two places in particular, one on each of the North and South sides have crumbled enough to leave gaping holes in the wall, though it seems rebuilding efforts have started in both places, and scaffolding and loose stone are scattered around both areas.

Finn moves again, this time scouting towards the cave, which he realizes now is slightly off the base of the courtyard and up the steep slope of the island hill.  But here too, there is a scaffolding which seems to give a rigid enough support to climb up towards the cave without having to brave the steep and rocky slope.  A faint, blue mist gurgles from the mouth of the cave, spilling over the scaffolding as it gently falls to the courtyard below, splashing on the earth and dispersing into vaporizing eddies.  Finn flies easily up towards the entrance of the cave, glancing towards the cavern inside.

Here, the mist seems to be much thicker, and decidedly blue, casting an ankle or shin-deep fog over the stone floor.  Several dozen feet on, the cave seems to open up into a larger cavern, though the only thing that Finn can see from this distance is a large, porous metal bowl which is set up on a pedestal in the middle of the cave.  The thing glows with an eerie blue light, and spills out thick blue smoke from all sides like a font of water sprouting from the earth.

OOC:  I didn't have you go in the cave or investigate the fog further, though you are welcome to do either if you wish.  You don't see any of the cultists at the moment.

Finn the falcon flits from one scene to the next, happy as a blue jay as he goes.  Without a care in the world as if he wears an invisible mail coat made of magical energy.  As if he is invulnerable.  This is Razzel's domain.  The magical thief.  The unseen scout.  The spy in sheep's clothing hidden among the herd.

With his tiny bird feet, tiny avian eyes aided by the power of flight Finn drops onto the islands connected by wood planks testing their stability.  Then he moves on to the walls and gate of the ruined keep.  It seems easily passable enough.  Next the real test of his abilities.  The cave itself.  The den of thieves so its called.  Murderers of innocent travelers more like it.

Finn sits on a rock peering intently in the dark at the foggy blue mist bubbling and rolling out of the cave.  As he moves closer he sees the source, the holey cauldron.  What is this he wonders.  A death cloud to ward off intruders?  If the smoke is broken will it sound some kind of alarm?  If he breathes it in will it make him forget who he is?

The bird man twitches in bird fashion flicking his wings and cocking his head this way and that as birds do while he ponders this dilemma.  He could investigate as a bird.  This would allow him to continue to fly, and as a small fast moving creature he is hard to hit.  But he is also fragile in this form.  Though as a tiger he would be powerful and have a greater ability to fight and sense foes.  But being twice the size of a man he could easily be spotted.

What to do, what to do?

As is his nature it doesn't take the resilient mage-thief long to make up his mind.  Bird it is.


OOC:
The plan is to go into the cave tentatively.  Fly in and find some place to land.  Hopefully not on the porous cauldron.  I want something above ground so that I am not in the mist.  I want to be able to observe.  If at least only a minute or two to see guards.  Signs of a post.  What the mists purpose might be.  Etc.  I don't imagine I'll find out much without getting in the mist but one step at a time.

Curious about the blue mist, Finn feels the ache of adventure pulling him on into the cave, deeper into the cult's domain.  Still, he knows that exploring in such a dangerous area is foolhardy at best when he has exhausted himself so thoroughly with his hiking and spell casting.  Giving himself some space from the cave, Finn sets down on a sturdy looking section of the northern wall, an opportune spot that has a view both of the cave itself as well as the tower and altar in the Southwest corner of the courtyard.

And Finn waits.

Quickly, the sun seems to skirt down below the rim of the mountain, casting the clouded sky in a bright orange, which fades to red, which fades to purple, which fades to darkness.

Only the dim, transient specks of stars here and there are visible through the overcast gloom, cloaking the whole of the lake valley in a spectral darkness which is interrupted only by the blue glow emanating from the cave mouth.

Having little else to look at, Finn watches the blue mist which is vomited out of the cave, spilling down the scaffolding and onto the courtyard floor.  Its flow is mesmerizing.  It cast's eddies and curls at each obstacle it hits, sinking effortlessly down until it pools at the base of the cave, drifting outward as it seems to ebb and dissipate into nothingness.

As for the tower and the altar, Finn sees no movement of consequence.

Finally, when Finn has rested to his full strength, and the light has ebbed out of the sky completely, Finn wings back towards the cave, ready to explore.

He is careful, probably more careful than he needed to be.  He has rested himself until he is at full strength, he has stayed in the form of the bird... ready to escape at a moment's notice and able to avoid the blue mist all together.  Finn feels confident that nothing could go wrong.

Until he plunges head and wing first into the depths of the cave.

All at once the air around his wings dies like a cut vine.  Each stroke of his wings seems to cause ripples in the air that send his tiny body up and down like a yo-yo hurtling through the air.  The mist below him spins and twists maddeningly with the disturbed flow of air, churning like an angry sea, but Finn is too preoccupied with the quickly approaching back wall of the cave, for he does not have enough room to turn!

Spasming his wings in a flurry of activity, Finn slows himself down while keeping his altitude.  At the last moment, he notices a pile of stone that climbs out of the mist near a tunnel going deeper into the mountain.  Unable to keep airborne and stay slow at the same time, Finn makes a play to land on the rocks, beating his wings ferociously to avoid any chance of touching the swirling blue fog.

With tremendous effort, Finn manages to place a claw down on the rock, then right himself with a few more furious flaps.  His heart thundering in his chest like a snare drum, Finn turns to get a better sight of the cave surroundings.

The pedestal with the porous bowl, a censer perhaps, sits in the center of the cave which is only as wide as thirty or so feet across.  It pours the angry blue mist from its center, which spreads across the floor, flowing like a swamp on its slow slog towards the mouth of the cave.  Closer to Finn, a narrow tunnel seems to have been unearthed from the cave, with loose stone and rubble piled around its mouth.

The air of the cave feels wet on Finn's eyes and lungs and the quick measures of his heartbeat suggest that this trip should be made as quickly as possible.

OOC:  It is 2110 and you have recovered to full FP.  Your shapeshift spell will renew in 20 minutes, costing you 2 fatigue.  You have been shapeshifted for nearly 3 hours and have spent the last 2 hours or so recovering your fatigue on the wall of the keep while watching the cave and the tower.

The cave is too narrow for you to really fly in any way but directly in and directly out.  The air also feels 'dead' and 'wet' which is interfering with your flying, though you aren't sure if this is some magical effect or if it's just the way caves normally are.  You did manage to find a place to land without touching the mist, though it's clear that bird form is not the way to explore if you want to go any farther.  Roll vs. Perception.

His near miss with the tower earlier and now his near miss finding a suitable landing place in the cave might give some pause, say if a neutral observer were watching him they might comment at his failures.  Surely, flying into a cave in the form of a high speed predatory bird may not seem the brightest idea but Razzel cannot argue long term results.  Neither incident resulted in lasting harm, and got him closer to his overall objective which is to learn more about his adversary.

Finn glances around the small cave eyeing the porous cauldron suspiciously and the newly formed tunnel.  He decides in short order that the blue mist must be some kind of guard or alarm.  Probably the former.  A death gas?  Or some knockout drug?  Whatever it is he isn't keen to find out just now.


OOC:
Not exactly sure what to do at this time.  If my perception roll reveals something stay in the cave at least long enough to complete further examination.  But heeding your warning that Finn doesn't want to stay too long here, I done want to stay too long.  If my perception reveals nothing turn, hop off the rock pile and take flight as best I can.  Use FP if necessary for flight rolls.  Fly back to the stop I was resting at.   In my next post I will either return to camp or turn into a tiger and investigate the gas more thoroughly.

Finn sits on the rock for a moment, turning his bird head to look all about the cavern.  Still the blue mist flows about the room, and as Finn checks behind him, he notices that the mist still churns there... just behind him... in an area he didn't think he had disturbed, or at least not very recently.

Unwilling to stay and search for exactly what the blue mist portends, Finn lifts off.  It is more awkward than normal, his wings taking longer to build up the speed he needs for flight than normal.  a single claw drops precariously close to the mist and Finn notes the churn of the vapor down below...

But within a few moments, Finn is free of the cave, bursting out into the dark night air which is fresh and alive in comparison to the bleakness of the cave.  Finn flutters back to the wall, trying to put together the pieces of what little he has discovered.

OOC:  Let me know how long you want to sit on the wall.  Your perception roll didn't reveal much of anything besides the churn of the mist behind you.  You would be willing to bet it didn't have anything to do with your wings disturbing the air in the cave.

Finn leaps vigorously off of the rock, though due to his tiny bird body the effort would hardly be noticed by any watchers.  He beats his wings furiously knowing that the stale dead air of the cave is going to make travel difficult.

The plucky leader had imagined flying back to his original post and if seeing nothing worth investigating he would return to camp for a good nights sleep.  But just as he is landing well outside of the cave a stream of ideas hits him.  The blue mist must be something malicious.  What if he could neutralize it.  But how?


OOC:
It seems from what has been written that the blue mist is reacting to me.  I will test that thoery.

Rather than head home or simply land on the rock wall to think, Finn decides then and there that his best bet is to test the mist... to find out what it is doing and why.  He wings his way down to a nook in the courtyard which is so hidden in the shadows he is sure he will not be bothered.  He ends his spell and readies another, this one to change from his human form into that of a tiger.

It takes Finn two tries to get the spell right... though before long Finn is standing in the form of a massive jungle cat.  And then Finn sets himself down to rest, his ears and eyes perked up and awake.

Of course, Finn does not get the rest he is looking for.

Without warning, without the faintest whisper of a wing, Finn feels a ragged set of claws tearing through his back, tearing through flesh from the base of his tail to his shoulder!  The wound burns with an ache that seeps through his body, radiating from his spine, up his back and into his head.

But Finn has no time to think on it.  He watches the animal soars past him, flying back up into the sky at blurring speed.  The thing is all black, almost indistinguishable from the dark skies that surround him.  The thing soars around, large for a bird, but not enormous... a small hawk or a large falcon...

The thing circles round for another pass with a screech that pierces the night.

OOC:  You got less than 5 minutes into resting when the bird attacked you and you failed your perception roll to let you take a first defense, giving the bird a free first attack.  I did take into account your combat reflexes (both in human and tiger form).  It looks to be circling around again to make another dive directly at you.  Finn is nearly exhausted from his spellcasting and you can check your fatigue levels on your character sheet.  It's an odd combat, so feel free to give me your general intentions rather than turn by turn action.  Map is below more for reference than for any combat purposes.  North is left, with the front gate at the bottom of the map and the deteriorated section along the North wall being fairly close to you.

Pain and shock.  A tearing sensation follows all along his backside and takes the tiger mage completely by surprise.  What the...???, Razzel thinks in disbelief as he first wonders if he had nodded off and is dreaming.

But quickly as the black bird zooms up, pivots and begins a dive for a continued assault Finns mind quickly catches up.  Sadda?  We killed you??, is the first thought running through his mind.  But the plucky thief-mage doesn't have the luxury of time to ponder such things.  This beast is intent on downing the tiger mage.  And in his weakened condition it could happen.  What then?  Would they kill him straight off?   Likely no.  They would hold him for the right time of sacrifice.  And likely torture him to see if he's alone.  In an instant Finn steels himself to avoid that fate.


OOC:
Move to the west and place my body in the crack in the wall.  I want to use natural cover to limit its advance and be able to give me room to defend.

Finn, exhausted from his casting, leaps towards the area where the wall has begun to collapse, spilling stones and debris about the courtyard.  Though the footing here was tricky for Finn, at least the walls would provide some cover from the bird as it bombed down from above.

Finn looks skyward as the thing begins to dive again.  Finn watches the bird, thinking of Sadda, the crow demon which they had killed in the ruins of Perdition.  Though the similarities seem many, especially in the obscuring darkness, Finn quickly rules out the possibility of the demon coming back from the nethers to haunt him.  The bird is not even half the size Sadda had been.

With only a moment to make his move, Finn swats at the thing as it comes close enough to attack, though the heavy shadows and the quick movement of the bird make the timing impossible.  Finn misses, swiping just a heartbeat too early, and he feels the razor claws of the bird rake across his shoulder as the thing arcs back upwards into the sky.

Cursing his foul luck, Finn turns again, keeping an eye on the scourge as he shifts his body for a better attack.  He could not afford many more hits from this foul thing, he was simply too exhausted to put up a good fight for long, even as a fearsome jungle cat.

Again the thing dives, and this time Finn is ready.  Rearing up on hind legs, Finn manages to swat the thing out of the air as it leans forwards with its claws, making the thing crash down into the crumbled stone below.  Not wanting to miss even a moment when he was on the offensive, Finn strikes his paw down again, pinning the struggling bird to the stone.

The thing writhes, though it ceases struggling after a moment, and Finn feels the bird deflate under his paw like an over-proved loaf of bread.  As Finn watches in amazement, the bird disappears into eddies and wisps of darkness.

OOC:  That one wasn't really worth playing out the combat.  So I made a few rolls using your intentions, and you managed to take the thing out of the sky on your second attempt.  You are at 1/2 move, dodge, and ST.  Make a roll labeled ?.  You can continue with your general intentions if you wish, leaving or resting as you see fit.

Finn was no coward.  He wasn't in the habit of running away but the young mage-thief was in the habit of surviving.  The bird, whatever that was hurt him and at a time when he was already weak from spell drain.  As the tiger Finn looks down as his prey is crushed and torn to pieces beneath his big feline paws the maniacal bird dissipates into wisps of smoke.  Razzel blinks stupidly in confusion for a few moments as he had assumed the bird was some kind of daemon pet such as Sadda, or perhaps a lesser conjured spirit such as a wizards familiar.  But when the death of the flying killer ends with its evaporation Finn soon realizes this is a different kind of magic at work.

He is not afraid of death.  Whatever these mad cultists believe in, whatever power they have assembled, they need more of it to defeat the likes of Finn Razzel.  But in his condition, almost completely exhausted he is an easy prisoner to be captured which would make success much, much harder.  And at his core Finn is a lazy man.  He likely seems like a go-getter to others but it is part of a master plan that involves building a pile of wealth and attracting followers so that in future years Finn can live like a king and have others attend to his needs.

For a moment he smiles a great smile.  If the origin of this bird is what he suspects this place does after all contain the magic he seeks.  One way or another he will convince these miscreants to hand it over.  Either by surrendering it or by prying it from their cold dead hands.


OOC:
Thanks for fast forwarding through that.

Finn watches as the bird seems to deflate and evaporate into nothingness, soaking into the ground at his feet.  In a mere moment it is gone, replaced only by the darkness and shadows of the overcast night.

Finn is in a hurry to be gone from here.  Expecting more of the predatory birds, Finn wriggles his massive feline body through the gap in the stone and the surrounding rubble.  He makes a mental note of the fact that the transit would be much harder (and likely less quiet) in a human body.

Finn finally manages to make his way onto the narrow strip of land on the outside of the walls.  Finn keeps constantly looking over his shoulder as he pads his way South, keeping an eye to the skies in case more of the birds approach.  Finn hugs the Western wall of the keep as the water climbs slowly up towards the base of the walls.  Eventually, Finn must wet his feet to keep moving on, though he is nearly at the corner of the walls.  Stepping down into the shallows of the lake with a silent paw, Finn notes the thick reedlike vegetation which spindles around his leg.  Though it doesn't seem to pose any danger, the water plants will no doubt make swimming more difficult.

OOC:  You've only moved about 20 feet along the wall before the water goes all the way up to the wall of the keep.  Sorry if this makes things confusing, but I've reoriented things so that it aligns with the module map rather than your route of approach.  If things seem confusing, go with the directions in this post rather than memory from what I've said before.  This just makes things easier for me in my head, sorry for the confusion.

You know that the log bridges you flew over earlier are just around the corner of the wall and to the south, providing an overland(ish) route to head back to your camp.  There is also a small peninsula of land that seems to stick out from the far Western shore, which is only like a 15 yard swim away.  You haven't seen nor heard of more birds coming out to attack you yet.

Roll once vs. Tiger Perception (unmodified).  If you make that roll, roll again for me Tiger Perception-2.

Finn slinks around the old crumbling walls of the once proud keep.  He yearns to get away for he is so tired.  Magic is a wonderful, awe inspiring thing but those who stand outside of it little understand the price.  It saps the strength of the wielder and in some cases, can kill the user.

Prowling as best he can Razzels night sensitive eyes and jungle ears search for more predators while he steers himself towards an exit.


OOC:
No worries on reorienting.  As long as it makes sense to you.  Plan has not changed.

His breath coming in great, ragged gasps and his heart hammering in his chest, Finn presses on into the water, keeping near the edge of the walls.

The reedy growth near the shallows snake around his paws, the tendrils wrapping themselves gleefully at each step.  The half-walk half-swim slows Finn down, the soft bottom giving way underneath his paws and the reeds pulling gently back with each step... though as Finn gets deeper in the water and the fur on his belly and sides begins to wet the soft splashes of his paws fade away into the gentle swish of flowing water.

Finn looks over his shoulder again, seeing nothing of any other birds.

Though somewhere off to his right, Finn hears a hollow splash, like a stone being dropped into the lake from a short distance.

OOC:  You've gone about 10 yards into the water and are about 2 feet deep.  You are deep enough to keep from making a lot of splashes with each step, though you are moving at a swimming speed of 1 yard/sec.  The shore is still off to your left (which connects to the log bridges which to go the outside of the basin) Or there is a little outcrop of land 11 or 12 yards off to your right which seems to be a swampy but serviceable way out.  Let me know if you want to just keep swimming to the other side, or if you want to head towards the bridges.

If not for the dire situation he found himself in, nearly exhausted and apparently being hunted behind enemy lines, Finn would revel in the senses of being a great jungle cat.  Razzel doesn't often transform into animals though he knows a few handy incantations.  There isn't much call for it owing to Finn having spent most of his time trading his skills for city work, and even with his recent forays into exotic overland adventures his companions possessed enough range of talent that still there was little need.  Not to mention under certain circumstances being an animal can be a downright hindrance, so Finn uses this magic sparingly.

But what was meant to be the form of a spy, a night time hunter, now has him trapped.  Finn's many castings has taken a toll on his energy.  The young exceptional mage-thief is as weak as a man at dawn following his wedding night, except that Razzel isn't feeling the sensuous joy of hours of carnal pleasure.  No, instead his mind is currently obsessed with two things.  His tired and distressed mind is screaming at him to escape.  To flee.  But not in a panicked, haphazard way.  In a careful and strategic manner.  And, his fatigued consciousness is already imagining himself caught by his pursuers, this kind of day dreaming is not uncommon to victims of overexertion.  Finn sees himself a prisoner inside the cave system.  Tied to a chair, his hands bound behind his back while a pair of ugly, smelly unattractive men question him with the kind of dull wit found in village idiots and politicians.  What would Finn say?  Would he give up the secret of his hirelings?  Of course!  It will not avail these miscreants.  They will fall to Finn's will sooner or later, as so many have.  That much is certain. The only question marks are how and when.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Wed 30 Dec 2020.

Finn pads his way farther into the water, his feet splashing happily even as the shallow water deepens.  Pushing off as the bottom finally gets just too deep for him to slink through it, Finn uses his powerful legs and wide paws to push himself through the cold water of the lake.

He's nearly halfway across the narrow gap when he sees it.

Massive glowing eyes just protrude from the surface of the lake, climbing upward upon a pedestal of rough-hewn skin.  The maw and nose break the water as well, a massive, long jaw burdened with rows of razor teeth!

Fast it comes, too fast!



OOC:  You are moving at a speed of 1 through the water, which is deep enough that you have to swim vice walk on the bottom.  You are about 18 yards (or 6 hexes) away from the water's edge in both directions, though it's a fairly shallow bank so you doubt that you'll have to swim the whole way there.  The crocodile is moving signifiantly faster than you, and you are fairly sure that it will be on you before you can make it to shore.  Give me general intentions for how you want to handle the encounter and I'll take it from there whether we should go second by second or if we can just roll your way out of this.  Sorry if it seems unlikely that there is a crocodile in a mountain lake.  But, if you'd rather, I can turn it into the loch ness monster :p.

Finn has had many times in his life when time seems to slow and his perception of an event becomes sureal.  The first time he summoned mana into being to change reality and it worked.  The third successful con he pulled, when he convinced a house guard that Finn was a local constable come to secure a valuable vase to relocate it to a secured vault where it would be safe from thieves.  The first time he had sex.  The time Razzel was told that most of his fortune was destroyed in a fire when his team left his pack behind.  And now this can be added to the list.

The long, crusty jaw line.  The placement of the beady eyes.  The rapid speed with which it moves.  The clues were unmistakable and where this was going was obvious.  Finn continued to paddle.  Some would panic, but not the plucky mage-thief.  In most situations Finn always had a plan.  It was his thing.  In almost every turn back at Perdition for example Razzel knew exactly what he wanted to do and the odds on a given outcome.  But here he is at a loss.  One of the few times he has nothing.  Oh, Finn has ideas, but all of them seem so wildly hopeful as to be more the stuff of fantasy than sound strategy.

And so Finn sets his keen mind to what's next.  Wake up dead, or wake up a prisoner?

OOC:  Note to the GM

Finn is exhausted, harried, pursued...  and now set upon by a crocodile in water over his head.  To someone else, perhaps all would seem lost.  But Finn has one very important thing going for him...  He is extremely pissed off.

Some would flee.  Some would try and sneak away, or attempt subterfuge.  Finn decides to go all in and attack.

All too quickly, the crocodile is upon him, the jaws lashing out at Finn before he can even react.  The jaws slash down, clamping on the soft flesh at the base of Finn's left foreleg...  Internally, Finn winces at the pain, but he knows that his is all part of the plan.

With the crocodile sucked into the attack, Finn makes a brutal attack all on his own.  His teeth flash forward, clamping on the tough flesh at the connection of the crocodile's neck and shoulder.

A feral joy fills Finn as trickle of blood mingles with the fresh water in his mouth... though he is far from done.  Pulling his hind feet under his body, Finn jabs them forward, extending his claws and raking them down the belly of the crocodile.  The water flushes with red as the Crocodile writhes!  This will be no easy meal!

Struggling to catch his breath, Finn feels himself sinking down below the surface of the water...

OOC:  You have taken a light wound to the left fore-leg and are grappled by the alligator.  The alligator has taken a light wound (bite) to the shoulder area and a major wound to the lower abdomen.  You also have the crocodile grappled.

Roll vs. HT.  2 more turns of action please.

Finn has three distinct voices in his head.

He is a tired man.  His extensive spell casting has drained him.  But there is something more.  The phantom bird attack seems to have taken something from him.  He cant explain it and he's never felt anything like it but the bird somehow stole his vitality.  His body aches to rest.  His eyes are half closed and he moves on will alone.  From deep inside a voice calls out, Sleeeeeeeppp...

But there is another equally loud and forceful voice within him almost screaming. Finn is irate.  First the strange mist, then the bird attack and now this!  Being dragged under water, deeper and deeper to a dark and silent watery grave.  The thought would seriously worry some but Finn is no average mercenary.  He is an extraordinary jack-of-many-trades.  Warrior, thief and magic user, voila!  This second voice cries out, Kill the damned thing!  Make this stupid beast r'gret ever messin' with tiger-Finn!

And a much much quieter sound, at almost a whisper, somewhere in the back of his mind a third voice, almost lost is heard.  What is up with Munt?  Really buddy, grass an' bugs an' twigs?  If Munt proves himself in a fight he could be'a handy guy ta have 'round.  I should talk him into travelin' with me.  We'd make a good team.  He's in it fur the a'venture an' travel an' I'm in it fur the spoils.  This could be a very profitable partnership.

Setting his focus back on the croc Razzel feels himself sink below the surface of the water.  Each mammoth beast, a great predator in their own way, is jaw locked on the other.  The croc is firmly resolved to drag the tiger down to suffocate it and eat it.  The plucky mage-thief is no less determined to kill the thing or wound it so badly that it sees flight or death as its only options.  With everything he has Finn strikes out, again and again with his massive claws.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:14, Sat 09 Jan 2021.

Foregoing any effort to keep the crock from dragging him down, Finn is quickly splashed under the water which rushes into his eyes and nose.  Down he plunges, the crocodiles hard maw pushing him until his back hits the bottom...  The water is nothing but an indigo field, the crocodile now little more than a black mass at the fore of Finn's vision.  But Finn holds on tight with his grip while the crocodile still struggles...  The last thing he wants is to let the thing go to come back in for another strike...

With his hind claws again, Finn reaches up and tears at the underbelly of the beast.  One claw just misses, though the other one finds the crocks thick, leathery skin, raking down his lower abdomen and causing eddies of black in the far fields of Finn's vision.

The crocodile seems to slacken for a moment... its jaws loosen their grip and for a moment Finn dreams that he will get away from this fight nearly unscathed.  But such is not to be.  Before Finn can reorient himself, the jaws crash down again hard on his shoulder, causing Finn to send a stream of bubbles upwards in a silent scream!

Finn lashes out with his claws again, desperately trying to send this foe to flight.  But while he strikes again with one of his legs, his claw sticks in the gator's flesh as he pushes his leg down...  He does something wrong, his foot twists as his leg turns out to the side...   Too hard Finn tried to kick out.  Something in his leg tears...  Finn grunts in frustration and pain.  It seems that this fight will not be as quick or painless as Finn hoped!

OOC:  Your critical failure resulted in a muscle tear that did not cripple a leg, but does hurt like hell.  It also technically reduces your ability to attack with that limb next turn, though you have 3 other legs to attack with so I don't see that being a huge problem.  You are grappled again, and you still have the crock grappled.  Lets do another 1 second of action.

Finn could feel himself sink lower and lower until his body hit the bottom of the lake.  While his hide was thicker than human skin and his fur helped buffer some of the abrasiveness of martial conflict Razzel still felt every scratch, tear, bite and every ounce of pressure.  Painfully.

With all his might he raked his fine predatory claws out at this determined hunter.  His only hope was to convince it that this meal wasn't worth the risk.  But the longer this melee dragged on Finn was beginning to think this was no ordinary animal.  Its will to fight to the death seemed just as strong as Finn's will to escape.   His tiger paw lashed out but bent back on itself, almost spraining the joint.  Meanwhile the croc viciously opened its powerful and clamped down hard.  The combination of the two injuries caused the tiger to howl in silent pain muffled by the water.

His only hope now lay in maiming or destroying the crocs ability, or will to fight.  But Finn was on the edge of loosing it all himself.  Who would be crowned the victor of the lake?  Finn had no doubt he would win.

Like a starved dog, Finn slashes and tears at every bit of the crocodile he can reach, feverishly slashing away at thick skin and flesh.  Through the struggle it has become clear that he is the larger of the two animals, though the other fights on with just as much fervor despite his size disadvantage.

Once, twice, Finn fails to puncture the skin.  The crocodile responds, gnashing his maw again and clamping down on Finn's shoulder, though this time he has barely nipped the outer bits of thick flesh.

Finn's exertion is costing him dearly here under the water, his mind screams at him to breathe! though he knows that such an action would be catastrophic at this moment.  Instead, Finn lashes out with another claw which this time finds purchase.  The claws catch in the already shorn flesh and tear away at the soft innards of the beast!

The beast snaps his maw again, this time with much more brutal results, creating a great gash on Finn's foreleg as Finn screams out in a flurry of bubbles!  His legs kick out, hitting again and slash the already shredded outer skin in even greater gore!  His vision is flooded with murky black water and he can smell the blood despite his stubbornly held breath.

But then it happens!  The thing lets go!  Finn kicks out again, unsure in the moment, and unable to see, tearing yet further carnage in the beast's flesh, though he has no time to ensure the job is done... his body screaming for air, Finn legs go and lurches to the surface, his body aching, his mind weighted like lead.

The next several moments seem an eternity for Finn.  He is swimming.  He is elated that the bank is yet so close.  He is horrified that he has turned his back to a foe that is a much better swimmer.  He feels the soft, silty mud under his feet, the slimy waves of shoreline greens.  Finn is going to make it.   Of course.... he always knew that.

Still, Finn knows he is in no condition to do anything.  As he drags himself from the water (shoulder deep, now knee deep, now just to his ankles!) Finn assesses the situation.  Things are bad.  He is exhausted, he is grievously injured, and this damn muscle tear in his leg makes walking painful even on four legs...  Finn fears even changing back into his man form lest his wounds take him.  But could he suffer much longer in this form of a beast?  Could he keep from succumbing to his wounds and exhaustion without his magic?

OOC:  Wow.  That came down to the wire.  You are down another FP from the fight, and are now sitting at an HP that puts you at half move and dodge (in addition to your half move and dodge from FP).  If you end your spell to use your magic, there is a very real chance that you will instantly pass out.  You are also bleeding and can't do first aid while you are in Tiger form.  You can check your character sheet, but remember, in Tiger form, your HP increases to 17 total.  I need a plan from you.  If you want to walk away from the edge of the lake, then how many minutes do you plan to travel?  Regardless if you want to end your spell early or not, make a roll vs. HT.

Just as he always knew he would, Finn Razzel, master strategist would find a way to survive. But it's come at a terrible cost.  Everything hurts.  His bones ache, his head throbs and his skin feels like it's falling off in places.  As he climbs from the lake ever so grateful to breath air at last he can feel the sensation of liquid running down his foreleg and from his shoulder.  But it isn't just water.  Finn is leaking his life essence at a dangerous rate.  Being a mercenary and having grown up in the mean streets of Azer the plucky mage-thief has seen many a man take a knife to the belly or a nasty sword cut across the chest and stand to finish the skirmish, only to die in the next hour from the toll and stress of their wounds.

Finn knows he will never make it back to camp so running to his hirelings for help is a fools errand.  He knows if he is to survive this night he must rely on him and himself alone.  Frantically but without panic the tiger runs as fast as he can which to onlookers would resemble a casual walk for a tiger.  His keen night eyes scan and search the nearby terrain for some suitable place to hide.  Anything that would conceal his body should he pass out.  The last thing he wants is for another bird to attack or the crocodile to rethink its choice of giving up dinner.  Before long Finn finds the best he can manage with his limited time.  He is growing so unbelievably weak.  This might be the farthest he's ever pushed himself and he is only resisting the urge to rest because he knows painfully well that his very life is on the line.

And then in one fluid move he plops down in the rubble of the rocky rim.  He rehearses the words and finger gestures of the spell that will save his life.  He takes a long deep breath, steels himself, and then summons the very last of his strength to force an unscheduled termination of his animal spell.  Everything hangs on this.  Can he remain conscious long enough to heal himself, or will he win the battle but loose the war by passing out and bleeding to death?

With furtive glances over his shoulder, fearful of other predators or etherial birds, Finn drags himself from the edge of the water.

It is a slow, excruciating process, for Finn is hurt and mentally and physically exhausted.  He suffers near constant reminders of his state not just from his pain, but also from his super human tiger nose which reels slightly from the coppery tang of the smell of blood.  Each step he takes, his wet paws seem to grow stickier... the dirt clinging to his pads...  Finn must stop soon.

Finn does not make it far.  The three minutes of walking account for probably less than he could have done under normal circumstances as a man.  Eventually he finds just enough scrub however, for his form to blend in to the rocks near the misty base of the fog.

Finn sags to the ground, exhausted.  He keeps his mind engaged however, thinks of the words and the gestures he will need.  There is no doubt that he will only have one shot at this...

Finn ends his spell, and the severity of his injuries come upon him all at once.  No longer do the sturdy animal instincts weave in with his own thoughts.  He knows only the pain!

Still, Finn manages to push past the moment.  Harnessing all of his will and griping his powerstone, Finn conjures his healing powers... willing himself to be better...  Just don't die!

Finn breathes.  The clenching feeling in his stomach has released ever so slightly... the pain still evident, but at least it is less.  Though he knows he has made it through the ordeal by the skin of his teeth, he has little time to relax.  Though his own night vision is nearly as good as the tiger's he no longer has the vastly improved senses of hearing and smell...

Finn flinches as he hears some hollow splash down by the lake.  He must rest, but he would not know real ease until he made it back to camp.

That moment comes hours later...

The journey seems to take no time at all, as if Finn had not really been in his body while he was doing it.  Finn, however, knows that the hour is late.

Omar looks up at Finn as he stumbles into the camp, alert for a moment until he recognizes the plucky mage.  He pushes his sword back into its scabbard however, sitting back down on a rock that seems to be his perch for the watch.

"You hadn't mentioned you'd be back after dark..."  The man says with a strain of irritation in his voice.  "We've already eaten.  Had to put the fire out to keep from attracting attention in the dark.  What'd you find?"

OOC:  While your adventure to this point has been harrowing, I figured extending things to make you walk/fly back to the camp and roll for wandering encounters was probably not needed.  You safely made it back to camp in the manner of your choosing.  Roleplay as you wish, Omar is on watch, though Munt is off a little ways away. The other two seemed to have already turned in.  I went ahead and rolled for you to heal yourself to full HP, though you failed 2 of the rolls.  You can attempt either a major or minor heal if you wish to finish the process, though the roll will be at -6 until tomorrow morning.  Feel free to fast forward yourself to the morning if you just want to get things moving again.

Finn Razzel has taken his lumps in his time. He's never shied away from a fight.  Sure he's avoided them when he can, after all why risk cutting your pretty face when it isn't necessary.  He's been hit so hard in the head he saw stars and its knocked a few teeth loose, he's been stabbed more times than he count, dropped off a roof once by a rival con man and even had his heart broken by a lover.  But nothing has compared to the shock and pain of his transformation from wounded tiger into critically wounded man hanging onto life by his fingernails.  But what was almost equally harrowing was the psychological terror.  Finn knew what was to be from the moment he dragged his sorry self from the lake.  He knew instinctually that the moment he forced an end to his animal spell he would swoon and perhaps pass out.  If it prevented him from weaving his healing magic he would likely drift into darkness, bleed to death in the rocky rim, and never wake up.  That reality of a potential future hurt more than the actual pain of his wracked and battered body.  He wasn't done with his life, not by a long shot.  And so when at last he found a suitable hiding place and found the right words and gestures on his virgin attempt Finn felt a relief wash over him that he could scarcely remember feeling before.  Was it luck?  Or fate?  Was the universe saying to him, No boy, stay a bit longer.  You're not done yet.

After performing the required nervous look-about for evil dive bombing smoke birds and tenacious man-hungry alligators Finn begins his walk back to camp, his mind full of existential questions.  The plucky mage-thief wasn't a religious man but this incident gave him pause to reflect.  Were there Gods and did one have a hand in him just barely keeping one foot solidly in this plane?  Or, Finn ponders after a moment, did one try to bump him off?  And he only survived through his incredible skills and talents?  These questions will sit inside the man for months like a small splinter buried under the skin.  Not painful but an annoyance.  A constant reminder that it is there.

The going is slow.  Finn is still hurt but more so only clinging onto consciousness by will.  He's heard a saying before that goes, 'When you're a hammer everything looks like a nail'.  To Razzel right now everything looks like a bed.  Every rock, every flat surface, everything invites him to lay down and just rest.  But he struggles to push on fighting back the temptation.

Finn shuffles his way into camp and plops himself down on his pack as a makeshift stool.  His eyes droop almost to the point of being closed and he moves awkwardly.  He nods at Omar's comment noting but understanding the mans irritation.  ”Well, left my crystal ball back at home.  So I d'int know I was gonna be so late.”


OOC:
Thanks for all the fast forwarding including having me trying to heal myself up to a certain point.  You did right, that's exactly what I would have done.  Try but stop before it became too dangerous.  No casting tonight.  I will try again in the morning.

Tell Omar the basics of my story.  The scouting.  The weird mist.  The bird attack and the fight with the croc.  Say that we might see visitors during the night though I think its unlikely.  I think if they would rally a response it would have run me down during my walk back.  But tell Omar to tell the others on watch to be extra vigilant.

This message was last edited by the player at 01:03, Tue 19 Jan 2021.

Omar remains quiet for several moments after Finn's cheeky response, his expression a steel trap.  Indeed, the man goes back to scraping his knife across a fist sized gnarl of wood in his hands rather than respond to Finn's quip.

Noting the awkward silence, Finn chuckles, then starts in on his story after he has caught his breath.  Munt joins the two of them from the edge of camp, and Omar listens in, making comments at times, though Finn considers the two a rather poor audience to his epic tale... Munt seems unable to make the right emotional connections to Finn's dramatic victory, sucking out the joy with mundane questions about the build of the fort and the soil of the crater when Finn is trying to explain his masterly tactics against the shadow bird and the crocodile.  Meanwhile, Omar seems to have the majority of his attention on his carving.

On the whole though, it matters little.  Finn has worked himself to exhaustion.  He casts his protective spells, sets up the bare minimum of his things, and falls asleep within moments after Munt volunteers to cover for his watch.

---

The morning comes all too soon for Finn, though it seems that he is the last awake.  Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Finn makes his morning rituals, tidying up his camp while he wolfs down one of his rations of hard traveler's bread and dried meat, for Omar refuses to build another fire, despite the still low-hanging fog and cloud layers that obscure nearly everything around.

"You heard Finn.  There's dozens of them.  And they're talking about human sacrifice."

That single comment seemed to settle it for Omar, and Labid and Bashar didn't seem to care to press the issue.  Within an hour, the five seem ready to set out again, likely to make the rim by mid-morning.

"Think of all the gold gents."  Labid smirks.  "A handful of fanatics and we'll have the full run of an Emir's palace."

OOC:  It is 0800 on the 1st of June.  Let me know the pace you want to set, you can simply designate it as Extra Effort, Fast, Moderate, or Slow.  Let me know if you want to take extra precautions prior to reaching the rim, or on your way down into the crater.  Also, feel free to heal yourself again if you wish, you no longer have any penalties to do so.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:41, Thu 15 Sept 2022.

Finns eyes flutter open to take in the light of the sun as he breathes in the fresh mountain air.  ”Huh”, he says to no one in particular as he half expected to wake in a jail cell deep inside the confines of the cultists complex, awaiting his turn for sacrifice.  Either they don't know about his little reconnaissance trip last night or they don't care.  Strange to the sometimes con man as they seemed so desperate for throats to cut.  What is the origin of that mist-bird?  He had assumed it was conjured by a mage.  So then shouldn't the wizard know of its defeat?

In no time Razzel's head is filled with lust after the magic tomes the cave network must contain not to mention, as his men have said, the loot of coin and gems!  If these evil denizens are waylaying travelers they must have a lucrative side effect – their belongings!

Finn wiggles a pair of fingers in a simple cross over gesture while muttering a rarely heard arcane word.  The last of the cuts and scratches to his shoulder, and the internal tears to his wrist mend themselves in seconds.  Ahhh, the benefits of magic, he thinks happily to himself.

Some time later the plucky mage-thief is walking with his men up the mountain towards the peak of the rim.  He takes the time offered by the calm walk to discuss strategy.  ”I know you dont know me real good.  I'm a planner.  Best weapon I got is this.”  Razzel wraps his knuckles against the side of his head briefly.  ”I ain't fixin' ta go in there blind.  Lets have a skull session.  That blue fog I seen last night.  Now I don't know what it does but I'd wager all my stuff we ain't gonna like it.  Could put us ta sleep, 'er confus'us an' make us think each other is the enemy, 'er maybe like its just poison.  Point is we're gonna try not touchin' it.  Far as gettin' in the cave I'm guessin' they got a lot more than we do.  So soon as they know we're here the jig is up.  Our plan is ta sneak as long as we can.”


OOC:
Cast Minor Heal on myself to get to full HP.  I realize this is a solo module and you aren't going to compromise it by giving away major plot points or strategies.  This is to cover a few things.  So you know my overall intentions should you have to guess, role play flavor and I'm asking if the GM has any suggestions through the NPCs.

Walk at a moderate pace.  Nothing that is going to wear us out.  Be hyper vigilant.  Once we get near the top of the rim take some time to search for traps.  Nothing too deep.  Trip wires.  Simple alarms.  Pits.  Ambush sites.  We will walk spread out, not side by side.  This way if someone trips some kind of trap hopefully it gets just that person.  I will walk with my bow out and an arrow knocked but not drawn.

Skull session is Finn-speak for brain storming.

Make sure everyone heard my story of the night before so they are aware of the lake croc and the vanishing bird.

This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:20, Sun 24 Jan 2021.

Finn rhapsodizes briefly with his hires, searching for clarity or even separate opinions about the things he has seen.  Finn distrusts the blue mist... its swirling noxiousness seem odious at best... especially given the trouble that Finn stumbled upon shortly after.  However, if he is searching for answers, it seems that his hires have little to give.

"It's just mist?"  Labid asks as Finn suggests a need for deeper thinking.  "I mean shit, what's the worst it could do, make your socks wet?"

"Cursed."  Omar interjects.  "Finn's saying it's cursed.  If you touch it, your scrotum will shrivel and fall from you body like an overripe fig."

He grins at Labid.  "No worries lad.  Children are overrated anyway."

Bashar looks at Omar with a confused quirk to his face.  "But the cultists have to use the cave don't they?  Or have they all just forsaken their scrotums for the sake of Malakai?"

The conversation does not seem to get more serious from there, and Finn decides shortly to continue the trek towards the rim of the mountain.  After all, he could think and walk at the same time, and he was unsure that he was going to be seriously challenged by anything the other three would bring to the discussion in the meantime.

In a few hours time, Finn finds himself coming over the crest of the hill.  Though he spends some time searching for tripwires and snares, there seems to be little here in the way of traps, or of a path at all for Finn to be concerned about.

The clouds seem to have surged increasingly low today, from the rim of the mountain, Finn cannot even see the lake, for he is engrossed in a grey mist, and thin bits of rain fall all around him.  Twisted trees, with barren limbs and clawing roots, loom like skeletons standing watch over this forsaken place.

From somewhere within the misty darkness you can hear the sound of drumbeats, like the echo of a heartbeat calling you deeper down the hill towards the lake and fort beyond...

It is 1100 on the 1st of June.  Roll vs. HT+2.  If you fail, you incur FP in the amount you failed by.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:42, Thu 15 Sept 2022.

There was a moment, albeit brief, where Razzel wondered if he would survive last night.  If he would get here to this moment or if everything would simply fade to black as he lost consciousness in his violent struggle with the lake monster, it was all uncertain until this morning.  His talents and natural abilities are exceptional and robust but after all even the outstanding run into bad luck now and then.

But this morning surrounded by his hired men Finn is fully back in his element, half day dreaming about the spoils of war sure to be found within the home of these vile leeches on humanity.  Crazy cultists.  Thoughts of bags and chests full of gems, maps, and rare books.  Perhaps even alchemical tomes to replace the one he lost?  And lest he not forget that once upon a time so the story goes this was the protective citadel to a powerful mage.  It is presumably why the cultists have set up shop here.  Finn is distracted partially by the temptations to speculate on what treasures lie within, not unlike having one's attention drawn away from work by a curvaceous buxom woman in heat.

Finn is about to snap sharply at the dull witted Labid when Omar answers.  The plucky mage-thief smiles appreciatively.  This man is a good one, Razzel thinks to himself as the swordsman keeps the others on task.  The leader lifts his bearded chin up and sniffs the air, then tilts his head to listen to the drum beats.

The entrepreneur looks around to his fine team and smirks coyly, a self satisfying grin.  ”You might be right Labid.  Might be nothin'.  But I aint gonna take the chance that it could hurt real bad.  Now then.  Who's ready for some fun?”


OOC:
Just so its on record make sure everyone knows of what happened last night so they are aware of the dangers but more so to expect the unexpected.

Finn will tell them that we don't want to get surrounded.  So we kill as we go.  In other words we don't run away from a fight deeper into the complex.  If we run away we flee outward.  Where we are now will be a rallying point if we get separated.

The plan is to proceed slowly and if we encounter groups of cultists (or monsters) we fight them with the intent to kill or maim.  We don't want prolonged skirimishes (or the wounded following us) because we dont want their reinforcements arriving to bolster their numbers.

Remind them that I can heal but there is only one of me.  If they are seriously wounded they should carefully make their way to me for healing.

Finn leads the small party on after ensuring they are aware of the dangers, the cultists and the crocodiles amongst others.

The climb down from the rim is rather steep and the ground is not entirely solid, causing several instances where Labid and Bashar send skittering rocks down the bowl from their slipping feet.  Once Bashar falls and slips several feet down himself, nearly taking Finn out with him.

Though this would normally put Finn on high alert, the fog seems dense, saturating the whole inside of the mountain bowl, and making it impossible to seem more than a few dozen feet ahead.  That, along with the constant rumble of drumbeats from the distance gives Finn at least some hope that their approach is neither seen nor heard.

It is only a quarter of an hour or so of slow walking before the bowl starts to level out and the ground becomes soft and saturated with water.  Still, Finn cannot make out the keep, though he knows the wood bridges were somewhere around here...

Another fifteen minutes of search brings the five down to the edge of the lake, and finds the log bridges that Finn had seen from his searches the previous day.  The opposite bank, what Finn knows to be only a small island before another bridge will take them to the keep, is almost buried within the thick fog, though the vaguest traces of green make their way through.

In the distance, the thunderous crash of timpani drums rumble in a furious beat...

OOC:  I need a march order from you, also let me know if there are any particular precautions you want to take.

After wandering around slowly down the rocky bowl from the rim Finn finds himself standing at the edge of the lake.  In the distance somewhere hidden by the fog comes an imposing drum beat.  But why?, he pauses to think curiously.  Does it have to do with some kind of religious ritual?  Are they trying to heighten the excitement of a search party's fervor to capture sacrificial victims?  Is it pure intimidation, do they know Finn and his cohorts are here, and this is some kind of game to get inside their heads?

Finn glances behind him to gauge the faces of his hirelings.  He doesn't worry about Omar or Munt.  These are hardy, tough and determined men.  Not easily discouraged by disappointment and temporary setbacks.  But Labid and Bashar.  What kind of men are these?  He does not know.  Razzel hired them for their skills and that contract had nothing to do with their personality.  Now is the testing time.  Will they show grit bravely in the face of oppression and malice, or will they squeal like little girls and pee their pants?  Finn is quite curious to know.


OOC:
I think I said this before, if not I'm hoping its not too late to ret con.  Long story short I would want the least amount of surprises with the team.  So in describing my adventure of the previous evening to them this morning I would complete the tale with crude maps drawn in the dirt.  The locations of the cave, the keep, the islands and bridges.  Just so they know as much as possible going in.

If single file we will be me in the lead, then Omar, Labid, Bashar and finally Munt in the rear.  I assume Munt can handle the rear and he is there to guard our flank.  If we go 2 x 2, then me and Omar in the front, Labid and Bashar in the next row and Munt centered in the back row.

No super special precautions.  Bow is out with an arrow knocked.  We are walking slowly, trying to stealth our way as we go.  The overall plan is guerrilla tactics.  If we run into a fight whether it be animal, animal spirit or men the idea is to fight and then retreat so if there is cavalry we dont get hit by 2 or more successive groups.

Finn glances back towards his hirelings.  While he knows that Omar and Munt are well capable enough to take care of themselves, Finn wants a read of all his men as they set foot towards certain danger.  For the steps ahead would hold not only any traps and tricks of Malak Almawt's underground tomb, but would also likely include fights with and the cultists who were seeking the same sort of plunder to which Finn was aiming.

What Finn sees in the thick grey fog does not surprise him.

Omar's face is taut and expressionless, his eyes casting about a glance every few seconds in a different direction, his hands grasping his bow with a knocked arrow already in place.  Labid, just behind, has his eyes cast upwards through he gloom, his expression one of mixed wonderment and anxiety.  Bashar, just behind, is casting furtive glances in every direction, his hands gripped tightly about his staff.  Munt, meanwhile, seems just as unreadable as ever... his natural lack of emotion buttressed by his grotesque features make any attempt at penetrating his thoughts utterly impossible.

Finn turns back around, his own hands gripped tightly about his bow, and his backpack pulled up tightly over his shoulders.  He knew that it was somewhere near here that he had been attacked by the crocodile before, and he was not about to be surprised by one of them again, so extra precaution was on order.

As he approaches the bridge, Finn tests the half floating-half suspended logs gingerly.  It seemed that the construction was sturdy enough.  The ropes seemed newly tied and the thick logs, though slick, did not seem in any danger of breaking under strain.  Though his weight submerged the bridge an inch or two under the water, it seemed much quicker than trying to traverse the way he had attempted the previous evening...

Finn halts for a moment as he hears a splash off to his left.  Fearing more crocodiles, Finn hurries his pace slightly, though he is just not quick enough to make it...

Thunk!

Finn feels the bridge rammed unexpectedly under his feet!  The whole thing buckles up, the slick logs moving violently underneath him.  Finn staggers wildly, trying to regain his balance and avoid being tossed into the icy water below!

OOC:  Roll vs. Acrobatics.  You get an overall -2 for encumbrance, although you can burn a fatigue for extra effort to earn +2 back on the roll.

When Finn was a young up and comer, cutting his teeth on the mean streets of Azer he watched an acquaintance take a harsh beating.  One night while they were drinking in the Proud Mane, a local shit hole, Rugan was set upon by four agitated brothers.  They had come to teach the man a lesson using their knuckles since they thought Rugan stole a ham-hock from their fathers shop.  Turns out it wasn't him.  It was Rugan's younger and quite female cousin Silva but Rugan took the beating rather than redirect it on the defenseless lass.  That is bravery.

Some would look at the scene of Finn leading his men across a log bridge over a crocodile infested lake and call him brave.  He is not.  What Razzel is, is exceptionally talented and he has a high drive to keep his men alive through to the end of their mission.  Men who get eaten by crocs at the doorstep of an evil cultists lair cannot help him defeat the cultists in the final battle.  Finn knows he bested the croc once and he is supremely confident that he can do it again.


OOC:
If it looks like I am going in the drink try to toss my bow and arrow onto the bridge.  If I go into the water try to FD my knife.

Do my best to flip or tumble to the far side.  If I cant make it that far just dont fall in.

Many men would buckle with fear in this moment, suspended by a rope bridge over crocodile infested waters, their only support swinging wildly underneath them.

Finn was not such a man.

Using the momentum of the impact, Finn steps forward, thrusting down with his leg and kicking a leg wildly up into an aerial cartwheel which springs him forward towards the opposite bank and simultaneously turns his body around, his bow trained down on the ripples of muddy water that surround the bridge.

"Oh my catastrophe!"  Bashar blurts as he watches Finn tumble forward.

While the colloquial Arabic is somewhat lost on Finn, he gets the point that Bashar is surprised that the stunt landed safely.  Finn on the other hand, was certain it would succeed, though even he had been a little surprised by just how well it had done, for he hadn't even lost an arrow out of his quiver.

For the moment though, apart from staying dry, Finn finds that he hasn't gained a tremendous amount.  For the crocodile is obscured again by the muddy water and the other four still remain on the other side, and Omar's eyes and bow are scanning the water furtively, making no effort yet to set foot on the bridge.

OOC:  Nice Acrobatics roll!  You earn a hero point from the critical success and have safely crossed onto the next little island, but the other four are still on the other side.  Let me know if there is any change in tactics, or if you just want the others to run across at full speed.

Finn frowns ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly at Bashar's silly comment.  This is exactly what the optimistic mage-thief was afraid of.  They under estimate him.  They do not understand the depth of his talents.  They know now what he is capable of.  This is an issue for men without faith turn to cowardice in times of stress.  Razzel's challenge here is to earn their faith before the stress grows too large.  Certainly this display of his raw abilities will help.

Finn smirks at his handiwork and brushes himself off as if it were all part of some grand plan.  He purses his lips while his brain weighs his next move.  He scrunches one side of his mouth while closing the eye on that side of his face.  The gesture is completely meaningless, its just something he does while deep in thought.  But it takes him no time to decide on his next course of action.  While tactically it isn't terribly important Finn decides that these crocodiles must be dealt with.  It wouldn't do to be fleeing wounded from the cave and run into a family of healthy and hungry crocs.  And why does Finn think there is more than one?  Because as severely as the croc from last night was wounded he seriously doubts it would so aggressively go on the offensive now.  Besides, a husband needs a wife and vice versa.

The plucky adventurer wiggles out of his pack as it hits the ground with a dull thud.  He tosses his bow down, places the lone arrow back in its holder and then rests that beside the rest of his gear as well.  Next he unbuckles his worn, stained leather weapon belt.  He draws his favored long knife before dropping the belt into the pile.  He turns to his awaiting men who surely are now nearly stunned at what they are seeing.  He holds up a hand.  ”I aint gonna be long.  They done pissed me off.  While I got 'em on me you all git'a cross.”


OOC:
Take off my back pack and lay it on the ground in the safest place near me.  Lay my bow & quiver by it as well as my weapon belt (w/ sword and other knives) and anything else I could loose in the lake or shouldn't get wet.  Fine Long Knife is in my right hand.  Cast my spell. Walk back onto the bridge.  I am hoping the bridge is again bumped quickly.  If so attempt to drop in the water so I am facing a croc.  If nothing attacks the bridge then jump into the water as a best guess so that I am facing a croc.  My worst case scenario is I get hit from behind and have trouble using the knife.

This message was last edited by the player at 20:36, Thu 25 Feb 2021.

"Pissed you off?"  Omar responds to the comment with confusion, his eyebrow quirking up as he watches Finn set his backpack, sword, and other equipment onto the soft ground of the island.

"No!"  Omar shouts as Finn steps back onto the bridge, his eyes trained onto the water, watching for another approaching crock.  "You are mad!"

But Finn has already jumped down on seeing the rippling slither of the animal approaching, his long knife gripped in a backhand, his left hand reaching for a grip and a sure target.

Finn splashes into the icy cold water, his skin crawling as his clothes soak in an instant and cling to his skin.  Still Finn's attack finds the mark, his knife cleaving an inch or more into the beast's tough flesh causing the thing to writhe and scream in surprise!  Without hesitation, Finn lashes out again, and though he hits, his knife catches a hard knot of flesh, such that the weapon barely pierces at all.

"Go!"  Omar urges the others, his face contorted in a wild mix of fear and shock as he pulls his bow to the ready, though he does not dare aim it so near to Finn.  "Go!"  He shouts again, reviving Bashar and Labid from their own shock as they plod forward quickly across the bridge.

At his side, the crocodile writes against Finn's body, a massive back foot thumping against Finn's chest as it pushes off forward down into the water, attempting to leave Finn behind.  Finn lashes out one more time, though again, the tough skin seems to foil him as the knife merely leaves a thin, white mark, not even breaking the skin.

As the three travel across the bridge, Finn keeps his senses on high alert, watching the murky water for any trace of the crocodile.

OOC:  This is about 10 seconds worth of action.  You jumped on the crocodile as it approached, completely surprising it (crit failure).  You managed two rounds of all out attacks (double attack as per your last fight) getting in one decent hit and three that likely did superficial damage only.  You are now treading water about two or three yards from the shore as the three are making their way across the bridge together, Labid and Bashar quickly, with Omar bringing up the rear with his bow knocked and his eyes searching for the crock's reappearance.

The moment is thrilling!  Finn's heart races but in a good way.  He is feeling now all the same symptoms as before.  His heart pounding so fiercely in his chest that he thinks it might explode, every limb tingling like starlight is shooting out of them, and his senses are so exaggerated its like he is an animal.  But now is not the same as last night.  When he was ambushed by the croc last night he was full of dread.  The prior battle was one of the few times in his young life where he wondered if he was going to die.  The lake, the crocodile, his own tiger skin all seemed dark.  And it wasn't the lack of light due to the time of day.  It was a feeling of darkness.  A loss of hope.  But today it is the opposite.  Now he has the upper hand, he has ambushed the croc and gotten the first and most important blow.  Razzel is able to maul his foe while the croc wonders how did he get here.  And Finn eats up the feeling like its a fancy top notch seven course meal.

But his victory is short lived as the regretful reptile swims off.  Not trusting his good fortune, as luck is rarely on his side, the plucky entrepreneur watches skeptically in the dark murky waters.  Now he turns his attention to his men and replays the recent events in his minds eye.  “Mad” is what he was called.  It was not a suggestion or assumption, it was a declaration.  Omar thinks him insane and probably the rest of the men too.  But Finn is neither upset nor offended.  His tactics are often contrarian and this reaction is nothing new.  This minor confrontation was destined to occur sooner or later and in Razzel's eyes better to get this over with sooner.

The skilled mage-thief begins back peddling to extricate himself from the ice cold water and while the temperature chills him to the bone he knows some sacrifices must be made.  A few minutes of cold pain are well worth ensuring that this men cross the bridge safely.


OOC:
The goal is to get all the men across the bridge including Omar.  Put myself in a position where a croc is more likely to attack me than the bridge, but as soon as the men look safe exit the water as fast as possible.

Finn does not trust that his single attack has maimed the crocodile... though perhaps it has done enough to scare the thing off while his four henchmen cross, for the bridge is not so long.  Finn watches as the first two make the opposite bank and begins to pull himself in a labored sidestroke as he keeps his head turned over his shoulder, looking for approaching trouble.

He does not have long to wait.

Nearly as soon as he takes his first stroke, Finn sees water rippling towards him like the wake of a tiny, invisible ship.  He turns his body and steels himself, readying his knife to slash out at the first thing he sees.

And in a trice the thing is upon him, the mouth gaping and gnashing down even as Finn slashes with his own knife!  Finn's strike catches the beast somewhere on the back, though it only cuts a shallow sliver into the animal's tough skin.  Meanwhile the beast's maw clamps down on Finn's thigh, though thanks to Finn's spell there is no pain whatsoever.

Finn throws his weight into his next blow, hurling his knife towards the crocodile's side.  The knife buries deeply this time, nearly to the hilt!  The monster groans as blood spews in a torrent from the wound, clouding the water to a muddy maroon.  The beast however does not so much as loose his hold on Finn's leg!  Despite the turn of events so far, Finn finds himself quickly dwindling in energy...  His body aches from the mental exertion of the spell and he just wants to be clear to the bank.

"Damn!"  Omar curses as he notes Finn being grappled by the crock.  Still standing on the bridge, but very close to the island bank, he pulls back his arrow, aiming in the water just short of where Finn is struggling.

Munt too, stops in his tracks, staring at the pair thrashing about in the water.

OOC:  The fatigue used in the feverish attacks has put you at half move and dodge, though you managed to inflict a major wound (and a minor wound) in the crocodile.  You are now at half ST, move, and dodge, and you are still grappled by the leg, though you have taken no damage.  Let's do two rounds of combat, and roll vs. Perception for me.

While he's certainly seen crocodiles and steered clear of them this is yet another exploit which he can add to his long list.  Jumping into a lake and battling a huge gator toe to toe.  Or maw to leg as it were.

A thought begins to dawn on the risk taking adventurer.  The reptile he fought to a stand still the night prior is unlikely to be on the hunt this morning.  Chances are this is a different beast.  And what if there are more?  A whole extended family?  Uncles and aunts, cousins, nieces and nephews?  Its a good thing then that he's in human form and has his spell capability available to him.

Finn grits his teeth and turns his knife and grips it with both hands, and as forcefully as he can thrusts it down into the beasts back.

While Finn knows there is little chance of the beast hurting him with his magical protection, he still wants to be clear of this engagement as quickly as he can.  After all, there could be more than one crocodile here in this lake... possibly even many of them.  While Finn was sure he could take any of these beasts in short, quick spurts, the thought of trying to take on a whole family of the things was a little more menacing.

Grabbing his knife hilt with both hands, Finn thrusts the thing as violently as he can into the beasts's flesh.  The weapon tears through the thick skin, plunging deeply into its back as it brings forth a surge of coppery brown that stains the muddy water even darker.

Finn grins with his success, though the joy is short lived - in the moment of victory he notices a few yards off a watery trail of ripples heading straight for him... Another crocodile, or were there even more?

The question does not bother him long, for there are other pressing issues.  With a roar of frustration, the crocodile pulls Finn under the water with an enormous strength.  Finn gasps for a breath of air as his face plunges underneath the water, his vision now obscured by the muddy brown - the only thing that stands clear in his view is the massive crocodile maw still clutching on to his thigh.

Finn thrusts out with his knife again, catching the beast just under the chin, and tearing a thin seam along its flesh... but he doubts it will be enough to make the thing let go anytime soon.

Then, beside him, Finn feels and hears the water crash!  Something large... a body, has landed in the water.  The swirl of rushing water reaches Finn's ears as he sees thick arms wrap around the crocodile's mass just behind the front legs, massive hands reaching forward to grab the beast around its face!

OOC:  You managed a moderate wound on the first turn, and a minor one on the second.  You imagine that you have done some significant damage to the beast, though you are betting there is at least one more that is quickly approaching.  You've been holding your breath for 2 seconds, though you managed to catch a breath before you were pulled underwater.  The murky water is restricting your vision now to about a hex.  You are still grappled.  Give me 2 more seconds worth of action.

When Finn was a young teen he saw before him a fork in the road.  He could play it safe.   Become a cobbler, a distiller, a cook.  Live a simple and modest life.  Once in a grand while enjoy a fine meal or fine bottle of spirits and likely never travel far beyond his one bedroom abode.  Or take risk.  Put his life on the line to do work few are willing to do but the rewards are potentially great.  And this is road he chose, the road less traveled.

As the plucky entrepreneur sinks lower below the surface, holding his breath and barely able to see his foe, he wonders if he bit off more than he can chew.  His assumption that the lake had no alligators has proven false.  His assumption that the lake had just one alligator has seem to be in error.  Just how big was this family, and how hungry are they that they themselves would risk death to eat?

Razzel moves his arm for a better strike as he ponders the folly of his decision.  There have been many moments in his relatively young life where he wonders if he over stepped his own fantastic limits.  Such as at Perdition where he faced a crowd of hostile Wazif's alone, and narrowly escaped.  Or the time he and Bashir almost were feasted upon by a night stalker.  Or that time Razzel was caught fornicating with a sheriffs wife, by the man himself, and just only managed to talk his way out of a fatal beating.  But now has he gone too far?  Does his amazing talents push him to test the very boundaries of what he can accomplish?  And like a rock falling off a cliff when he finds the edge will the results be catastrophic?

Finn grips his knife with renewed vigor, simultaneously energized by the unhesitating bravery of one of his compatriots who has leapt into the water with him and horrified by the approach of yet another of the beasts.  He stabs wildly, just piercing the crocodile's flesh in his softer underbelly, then missing the thing entirely as he tries again.

Finn hears a soft hum under the water, and the expulsion of bubbles from just a foot away.  Whoever has jumped into the water with him (and certainly it must be Munt, as large as the form seems?) seems to be exerting themselves in a tremendous effort.  After a moment, Finn realizes the pressure on his side is lifting...

Through the muck, Finn just catches a glimpse of the crocodile, its maw prized open by Munt's massive arms as the two monstrous creatures struggle against each other!

But even as Finn pushes upwards to take advantage of his newfound freedom, he feels yet another vice latch on to his upper leg!  Though his spell protects his skin from damage, the thing's teeth shred through his armor like paper and prevent him from getting to the surface to take a breath!

OOC:  Munt has the first croc grappled and pulled off of you, though a second one now has latched on to your leg.  You are still underwater and holding your breath.  Let's do 4 combat seconds this time and see if we can move things along (since it doesn't seem like you are taking any damage, at least from strikes).

Finn's eyes narrowed in the murky, dirt filled churning water.  Not because of all the bottom debris being thrown up into the fight but because of Munt being in the water.  This meant he was vulnerable.  True he came to help but he is no sorcerer.  He cannot summon lightning, or heal himself or turn water into glue.  If the crocodile gets the upper hand Finn will be tasked on saving this hired man and that is not something he calculated into his spell castings.

Razzel lets out a soft growl, inaudible to any but himself likely owing to the fact that he is careful not to open his mouth so he can save his breath, just in case.  He is no Magnus, nor Rondald or Gustav.  Each man is a superior warrior and stronger, but what Finn lacks in raw power with a blade he makes up for in versatility.  He swats away some half decayed leaves that were blocking his view.  Even in the darkness of this gloomy lake Finn spots his target, the soft chest region.  Some would call it fortuitous that the big lizard grabbed onto his leg and not his right forearm.  The plucky strategist would call it, planned.  Turning the dagger just a hair for maximum effect the man drives it into his victim over and over.

Finn thrusts out wildly with his knife over and over again!  Slashing and stabbing at every bit of the monstrous crocodile he can reach, but aiming especially for the soft underbelly where he is sure the thing's organs must sit fairly close to the surface.  But the monster's skin is thick, and Finn doesn't feel like he is having the effect he is looking for.

Finn's impulse to breathe is overwhelming.  All of the exertion has made his body ache and his already expended mind fuzzy.  His diaphragm spasms, and though he suppresses the urge for the moment, he is not sure how much longer he can hold his breath or keep himself from sucking down water into his lungs...

And then, Munt is next to him again, the massive, tree-limb arms wrapping around the crocodile as the teeth gnash, slashing open rents in Finn's armor, though his spell continues to keep his body safe.

OOC:  You're beginning to feel effects from exertion while holding your breath.  You know you need to get to the surface soon, but you are still being grappled and held underwater by the crocodile.  Munt seems to have come over to your aid, and you aren't sure now where the other crocodile has gone.  You are exhausted, and still at half move/dodge/ST.

Finn wrestles with the huge beast, thrashing, kicking, flailing and clawing with his knife.  The struggle is more difficult than he anticipated and he is grateful for the unexpected aid.  In truth Razzel had not planned on anyone entering the water to help him but now that Munt is here Finn is quietly boosted by the support.

But his body is failing him.  This spell which he learned from Judoc is wholly useful and almost miraculous used in the right scenario such as this one, but it is costly.  Very costly.  Bending reality in this way has left him feeble and he hardly has enough strength left to battle a whole family of huge reptiles.  If there are many more, or Munt decides to flee or his loyalty wanes, Razzel will be in serious trouble.

But the plucky treasure seeker rarely dwells on such thoughts.  Instead he is quite pleased at his decision.  Life's struggles are almost never easy but having a lake full of crocs without the will to fight is a good thing.

The mage-thief again directs his energies into his foes vulnerable chest and belly.  He imagines where its vital organs should lie and he stabs at them mercilessly!

Things are getting dangerous.

Finn's lungs ache for breath, his diaphragm spasming within his body.  Only a sheer force of will prevents Finn from sucking down water into his lungs.  Spots erupt into Finn's eyes.  Is that why it seems so difficult all of a sudden to make his knife land a decent blow?

Then, mercifully, Finn feels the vice-like jaws release from his body.  Though he yearns to slash out again (the crock must be almost dead!) Finn cannot help himself, he kicks to the surface, breaking his face and head into the air above and breathes.  Instantly the color returns to Finn's vision... an odd malady he had not even noticed in the murky lake, though Finn knows this is a sign of how close he was to drowning.

It takes Finn a moment to reassess the situation, an arrow whizzes by his head, striking the thrashing body of the crocodile next to him.  Munt's massive form is mostly below the surface, his arms wrapped around the crocodile, his ham-sized fists groping about the beasts's face.

Vaguely, Finn feels the animal biting at his leg with razor teeth that slash open his leathers but cannot penetrate the spell with which Finn has made his body so durable.

Finally getting himself straight, Finn attacks again an open spot on the Crocodile's flesh.  Again it seems, his knife-work is too clumsy... too weak.

But by now the beast is thrashing, Munt's hands are groping at the thing's eye, jamming a finger down into the socket and the animal writhes in agony, his body flailing within Munt's embrace!

Twang!

All of a sudden, an arrow materializes in the thing's side.  The crocodile coughs its last breath, and stills within Munt's grasp.

It does not take any telling for both Munt and Finn to begin their swim to shore.

Finn does not pull himself to shore so much as roll up onto the bank onto his back, his body weak and his breath coming in fits.  He realizes now just how much damage the crocodile could have done to him, for his beautiful armor hangs from his body in shreds, roughly held onto his legs by a few strips of material that have mercifully been left attached.  There is a gaping hole at his hip where the monster had first held him.

Munt clamors up on the shore next to him, his own breathing heavy, though he looks no worse for wear.

Vaguely, Finn can hear Bashar muttering somewhere a few yards away.  "Allah is great...  Allah is great..."

Omar steps forward, his bow still grasped in his hand as he looks out into the water of the lake.  When he seems satisfied, he glances down at Finn, his face cast in a wretched mask of distain.

"You.  Are.  Insane."

The words are spat through clenched teeth like a pick digging into stone.

OOC:  During the first turn, Munt managed to free you from the crock and I decided based on how close you were to drowning that it would be absurd for you to keep attacking underwater.  I figured under the change of conditions, it wasn't even worth asking you if you wanted to swim to the surface or not.

Roll vs. HT-4 for the combat.  If you fail, you burn 1 fatigue.

Obviously, you are still exhausted whether you succeed or fail.  You can still hear the feverish drum beat coming from the remnants of the fort, though in your prone position there isn't much else to see.  Looking over the water shows the forms of two crocodiles hanging limply at the surface, unmoving.

Your armor is a wreck.  It's been burned by the necromancer and eaten by crocks.  In game terms, this is the last adventure you can use it.  It also provides enemies with significant weak points to target you until it is replaced.

You are out of combat.

Finn crawls and drags himself onto the rocky bank of the lake.  He is not hurt, his beloved enchanted armor and magic have protected him from the lethal power and sharpness of killer crocs, but the man is exhausted to his very limit.  He can hardly move and his eyes are just narrow slits.  If he wasn't holding onto consciousness by a thread his chest would be flapping around like hanging linens in a windstorm and his limbs would be trembling violently from the frigid temperature of the lake.

Razzel takes note of the others reactions and he is amused.  It is their first time working with him and his last companions likewise had serious doubts about his judgment.  Why should these fellows be any different.  The plucky optimist smiles and mustering as much energy as he can utters a simple, ”Thanks.” offered in Munts direction.

Now the mage-thief turns his head to eye Omar, the soldier.  It would be the professional fighter who would rationalize risk differently.  Finn smiles in a conciliatory manner.   ”Maybe I am.  You aint the first ta say 'Em crazy, an' you aint gonna be the last.”  Razzel pauses to chuckle but in his weak state his face makes the motions but no sound emanates.  ”But I'll tell ya.  My team took on ye'rold boss, who was took over by-a deamon.  An' his tenderfoot.  I was leader at Perdition.  Not any of us died.  No missin' limbs.  We walked outta there with 'er pockets fuller than when we got there.  An' I'll remind ya.  Some'a yer friends made it home 'cause I used words an' not blades when I met 'em.  We're gonna go in that cave.  We dont know what's gonna happen.  But if we get wholloped an' have-ta hightail it out the last thing we wanna see is'a family'a crocs sunnin' themselves with empty bellies right outside the cave.”

Finn pauses to take several long deep breathes.  While his speech is slow the monologue has drained him of what scarce energy he has left.  ”What'dya wanna hear?  I know jumpin' in a lake a'crocs is crazy.  But I also know me.  An' my magic.  I knew I could handle it mostly, an' I knew if I needed help ya'd help where ya could.”


OOC:
Tenderfoot is Finn's slang for rookie or apprentice.

Finn is trying to say that he has a track record of success.  But success in places like this comes with risk.  And Finn decided should the team need to run like hell out of the caves he didn't want to have to face down a group of hungry crocodiles outside the caves.  But he is also walking a balance.  He wants to be careful not to suggest that success is guaranteed just from following his gut.

Still lying in the grass and exhausted, Finn defends his actions, and describes his track record...  He wasn't one to brag, except when it was deserved, and Omar deserved to know just how amazing Finn's judgement had played out in the past.

Omar curls a lip as if tasting sour lemons, though he does not argue the point.

"I don't like being out in the open"  Labid cuts across the tense moment, his eyes looking up to the collapsing walls of the fort.  "Anybody up there's got a great view of us down here, and we're sort of sitting ducks..."

Labid pauses for a moment, the thick, booming sound of the drums reverberating from beyond the collapsing stone walls of the fort.

"And I guess it's clear to say that there's a few of them around here somewhere."  Labid adds, making the obvious connection to their predicament.

Finn agrees to move, though there is little consensus where they should go for the moment.  Finn demands that he needs to rest, which causes Omar's eyes to nearly pop out from his head.  "Rest?  We've just gotten here.  Labid's just said it, we're sitting ducks out in the open and you want to just wait?"

Finn quickly asserts himself, reminding everyone that he's the one who's in charge and who's paying.  So rest it is.  The only two options for cover seem to be tracing their steps back to the rim of the mountain, or moving on to take shelter under the walls.  The former wasted even more precious time, and while the latter was closer it also seemed to put them in a bad position if they were found...  Though to Finn the risk was worth it.

Tch!

Omar clicks his mouth, frustration settling over his person like a cloud as the five tread their way to the base of the walls at the corner of the fort.  A place it seemed at least unlikely to be found, even if the possibilities seemed stark if they were.

For over a quarter of an hour the five sit with their backs against the wall, Omar holding his bow close as he peers to the rims of the fort, searching for foes.

All the while the beat of the drums continue... and chanting voices begin, rhythmic and muffled, vibrating from the very stone walls that separates the five adventurers from the ritual that seems to be happening within.

And then a scream of agony pierces the grey afternoon.  A woman's.  A grunt of pain, and a scream again.  Omar's body goes rigid, his eyes staring at Finn's beseechingly as the sound draws on.

"Well?"  He asks.  Staring at Finn for answers.

OOC:  It is 1130 on the 1st of June.  You have recovered 2 FP, though you are still at half move and dodge.  The drumbeat has been steadily building and the chanting voices started a few minutes ago.  Omar clearly wants to do something about the situation going on inside the courtyard, which presumably is the sacrifice you overheard the woman talking about yesterday.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:42, Thu 15 Sept 2022.

Finn finds a comfortable spot against the rock wall to nestle his pack in place and rest his weary head on the large worn leather bag.  Its rough and not nearly as comforting as a feather bed but it'll have to do, and being an adventurer he's been here so many times before.

He has suffered through the alligator battle but as his tired half closed eyes roam his sorry looking shredded leathers he sees what he feels.  His powerful magic has transferred any bodily harm to his belongings but the worst he's suffered is the heavy fatigue of bending the mana through his core.  Razzel tries to relax amid the thudding of the drum beats but it is the chatter of his men that concerns him more and threatens to interrupt his rest by way of stress.  He feels their pain.  Sitting idle in daylight so close to the enemy's lair is not wise.  In fact quite dangerous.  But what else is he to do?

As he fights to replenish his now depleted energy he mulls over the philosophical worthiness of his actions.  Were these men correct?  True, because of his choice to war with the crocs now the plucky mage-thief must rest, exactly when he needs his spell fighting ability the most.  But what if he hadn't?  What if he and his soon-to-be heroes ran into trouble in the cave, turned to flee only to be flanked by crazed blood lusting zealots and a family of starving razor teethed reptiles?  But more so what does this say about Finn.  Has his run of success made him blind to the dangers of his choices?  He knows he came close to drowning last night.  Every man has his limits, even Razzel.  Am'i takin' risks I shou'nt?  'Errr they right?  Imma..crazy?  How else do ya get the job done?  Bein' out here...fightin' necromancers an' cultists an' golems, it aint no tea party.  Tough jobs need tough stakes.  Finn stops himself when it occurs to the young man that he is simply doing in his head what he has done with Omar, using the ends to justify the means.  So the young entreprenuer decides to change tact by focusing on his solutions to problems.  Perhaps he can achieve the same results without jumping in so quickly, but then a high pitched scream rents the morning air.  While the fog blinds him to the scene he can imagine it so real in his minds eye that he has the sense that he could reach out and touch it.  The black haired woman, the dwarf and some crowd of unknown size and making their sacrifice to give this Skoulos his tribute of blood.

Finns face turns into fear and disgust, which slowly transforms into a mask of sadness.  You fool, he chastises himself painfully.  While the pair didn't mention the blood letting on the following day its something the wily confidence man should have been ready for.  Now the pain of the woman's torment through her cries tears at him like a knife going through bread.

Finn is so tired.  He can move but painfully slow and his magic is out of the question.  It is these kinds of situations that wizards dread almost more than anything.  How can Razzel go into battle.  He looks about the faces of his men and he sees in their eyes what he feels.  How can I not?


OOC:
Thanks so much Raddek for being patient with my RL craziness.  But I know you're life is equally crazy and with running 50 threads not posting here wasn't an annoyance.  ;)

Its been so long I dont know that I recall all the details here but I think I remember most of it.  I have read backwards recently to help jog my memory.  One thing I am confused about it the local geography.  We are camped on the fringe of the ruins of the old keep?  And the noise of the sacrifice sounds like its likely coming from inside the old ruined keep?  Or closer to the cave mouth?  Do I have any kind of reasonable guess to the crowd size based on the noises I'm hearing?  Does it sound like 5 or closer to 50 people?

I kind of freaked out when I read this.  I thought, holy shit, how did I miss that they were going to kill a woman the next morning after my recon?  Finn would have definitely wanted to stop that.  So I read back through to see what I missed and saw they merely talked about future sacrifices in the conceptual sense.  I guess I should have inferred that they had the ability to do something the way they were talking.




This message was lightly edited by the GM at 16:41, Tue 06 July 2021.

Sitting in the shade of the walls, with the drum beats reverberating from inside the courtyard, Finn has only one thought:  How could I not?

How could he sit here in the shade, recovering from mere tiredness while some poor woman was sacrificed in the name of some demonic god?  Wouldn't his hires judge him?  Wouldn't Omar, the consummate professional judge him for his lack of action?

Wait...

Omar had already judged him.  It was easy enough to see Omar's scorn when he had come out of the lake, near drowned.  He had judged him for being rash... and now it seemed he was baiting him into taking more rash action?

"Well what?"  Finn responds before he can think of how to dull the bluntness of the words.

"You want to go in and save her?  I thought you were just mad at me for picking fights we didn't need?"  Finn eyes up Omar, whose face tenses slightly, though he says nothing.

"Well, I'll tell you right now I've got to rest.  I feel for the broad just as much as the next guy, but it does us no good to run in.  We'll only get killed or sacrificed off just like her.  Even if we peek over the walls to see what's going on, we only take a risk that doesn't do us nothin', cause we can't run in to save her anyway.  Sounds heartless, but ain't no sense in everybody dying to protest one death."

Omar turns away, his body and face now pointed towards the walls.

"She's probably a whore anyway."  Labid adds in a quiet tone, his boyish face somewhat paled.  "Otherwise she would have been at home and they couldn't have taken her from her husband or father."

As if to punctuate this comment, there is another shrill scream, high and loud which pierces through the drums which are rising to a fever pitch.

Tch!

Omar does not turn back, but puts his two hands on the stone wall, and eyes the stone up to the top.

"I'm going to look."

Finn thinks for a moment on stopping him, though the man has already lifted himself off the ground, and truthfully, Finn is not itching for another fight.  Easier to give in this one time... It allows him to continue to rest, and Omar seemed confident enough in his own abilities.

Finn relaxes against the wall, letting himself seep in the mana from the surrounding air.  He had never really learned to do it properly but he tried all the same...  Judoc seemed to have mastered the ability such that he could recover himself from spell-casting twice as fast as Finn...  Something about letting the mana flow through you, though Finn could not seem to sieve the energy out, instead it slipped through his fingers like water.

Above him, Finn can hear Omar gripping at the wall and slowly moving his way up.  He seems skilled, with his movements muffled and not so much as a loose pebble spilling down.  For several moments the noises stop, then return again as the soldier returns his way back to the ground.

"Fourteen of them."  Omar says once his feet are on solid ground, his voice more even and less acidic than before.  "Most of them are dancing around nude and without shame...  Though there's a gorilla of a man standing near the back with a spiked flail and shield that looks like a sturdy fighter and there's the woman doing the..."  His words fail him for a moment.  "Who's got on robes and has a wicked looking knife.  I think you're right."  Omar nods at Finn.  "The girl's not long for this world and there's nothing we gain by running in there."

Validated, Finn lies back against the stone again, continuing his rest.

As the minutes pass on, the drums only increase in volume, the loud, chanting moans rise up and down in volume, pulsating in a chaotic manner.  The screams continue for another five or ten minutes despite Omar's assurances, diminishing only slightly in their fervor until everything seems to rise together.  The moans escalate, punctuated by a high, chanting voice and the scream of the woman which rises up into gory climax... then falls away into nothing.

The chanting voices drone on, loud and dull for several more minutes before they too fall away into a low buzz.  Then into nothing.

Omar seems to relax slightly when the drums stop.

All told, the sacrifice lasts perhaps thirty minutes.  Though Finn rests on much longer.

When Finn is finally ready to move on, the sun has crested in the sky and begun its journey back to the other horizon.  Omar has finally sat down in boredom and Labid and Bashar both seem ready to be done with this place.

OOC:  Edits made to the characters actions were in accordance with conversations held with the player.

It's 1330 on the 1st of June.  You are now back up to full fatigue and the sacrifice ended over an hour ago.  You haven't heard any distinguishable noises from inside the courtyard since that time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:42, Thu 15 Sept 2022.

Resting time is slow time for a sorcerer.   To regain his strength he must relax and let his muscles go limp.  This nearly meditative state allows the body to recharge but it also means the wizard is trapped in the prison of his own mind with no stimulation but his own thoughts.  Today's prison is particularly torturous because Finn must listen to a woman scream out her horrific pain, not all at once but it comes in trickles, gasps and thunderous bursts.  Minutes feel like hours.

Razzel attempts to distract himself with other business with mixed results.  Labids comment about the woman being not worth saving owing to her questionable moral standing, thankfully this draws Finns attention to her origin.  Where did she come from?  Was she part of some caravan, or explorers, was she one of the cults own and suffered the most terrible of punishments, or something else?  Do these men venture from their stronghold to snatch unwilling victims?  He wasn't certain how long his mind wandered in these curiosities but it served it purpose.  For a time he felt nothing.

The plucky adventurer listened to Omar's report with keen interest as he closed his eyes and conjured an image of the freakish troupe dancing around the death of this poor woman.  How did the tall robed woman and the stout man convince these people to commit such vile acts?  Was it the promise of a few shiny coins, or is it the allure of some spiritual gift for the faithful?

Finn's mind takes full advantage of the downtime to think of this and a myriad of other issues, mostly the treasure that these evil highwaymen have surely confiscated in search of sacrificial lambs.  But he finally feels himself again and snaps to his feet.  Razzel draws the finely crafted blade and swings and thrusts at some imaginary foe to test out his endurance and reflexes.  Satisfied that his energy has returned he sheathes the blade and turns to his men.

The jovial rogue sees the visages of boredom and distrust staring back at him and he reminds himself that these men are merely hired hands.  They don't lust after wealth such as he does, not to mention that they don't know him yet.  ”Friends, I know that weren't right.  That poor girl.  I wunted ta save 'er much as you.  But we gotta keep 'er wits.  Aint no one knows 'a this place.  So no ones 'a comin' but us.  An' if we croak by bein' foolish well then, whole mess 'a girls is gonna be gutted like stuck pigs.  No sir.  Not on my watch.”

Finn gathers his gear keeping the long wooden bow in his left gloved hand as he loads an arrow into the string.  His keen eyes look all around, then he nods for his men to follow.


OOC:
Thanks for your infinite patience during the chaotic time when my life turned upside down.  While I'm still working a lot life has quieted enough that I should be able to post regularly.

Is the fog still super thick?  Whats visibility like?

During my rest period I don't suppose my hirelings were smart enough to cut up some croc meat since we're running low on food?

When the ritual was in full swing Omar said the dancers were naked.  Did he see any weapons or armor laying around?  Trying to determine if they left their gear nearby or inside somewhere.

I'm thinking about casting Continual Light on a few rocks but I don't want to delay things any longer.  I may do this at an opportune time later.

Take a few minutes to go over some basic hand signals.  Stop.  Go.  Guard.  Trap.

During his rest, Finn makes an offhand remark about using the dead crocodile as food.  Omar nods at the suggestion and within a few minutes, Munt has dragged the thing up to the walls of the castle, where Omar flays the thick, scaly tail into thin strips of meat which he salts and hangs from several of the packs.

"I've never eaten crock before.  But most lizards are fine to eat their tails, should be safe enough.  There's no way to light a fire here of course, but we can do it later, and just dry it in the meantime."

Munt nods along with the conversation before putting a foot on the crocodile's shoulder and tearing a foreleg from the body with a hollow pop!  He does the same for the other side, then ties the two legs together with a length of rope which he then ties around his waist so that the twin appendages hang from his back like a forked and clawed tail.  Omar shakes his head slightly but does not comment on Munt's own food preparation.

Finally recovered from his exhausting spell casting, Finn stands, gives a slight pep talk to his men before pushing on.

There are no comments, for it appears that everything has been said already.  Instead, Finn leads the way up along the walls, looking for the gap in the stone where he sneaked away the previous evening as a giant cat.  It does not take Finn long to find something.  A gap in the walls where the stone has crumbled and fallen away.  Those pieces which fell outside the wall are now covered in black moss, grass, and briars, though there appears to be some sort of scaffolding and hastily replaced stone in the worst parts of the gap.  Though Finn managed to wriggle his way between the stones as a tiger, he finds it somewhat less likely that Munt will be able to squeeze his massive, deformed body through.  He can't imagine it being difficult however, to move some of the loose stone out of the way to make the task easier.

Without committing himself far, Finn peers through the gap, and notices two forms, standing at the far end of the courtyard some forty yards away.  One is massive in comparison to the other.  The shorter one is in black robes and leans over the altar at the base of the stone spire.  The larger one is easily taller than Munt...  probably even if the man had stood up straight.  He also seems thicker...  he is simply standing at the shorter one's side, a thick wooden shield hanging his side.

OOC:  At the moment you have broken out from the fog.  Essentially, there is a low cloud layer which obscures the top of the fort.  Visibility below the layer is fine, though it's impossible to see the sky.

For the weapons and armor question, yes and no.  The cultists had weapons in hand, staffs, clubs, cleavers and the like.  There wasn't any armor to be seen though.  They were absolutely nude.   None of the cultists seem to be around now though apart from the two you can see at the end of the courtyard near the base of the spire.

You teach everyone basic the basic hand signals of stop, go, guard, and trap.

Finn stares at the pair for a long while, his eyes glaze over.  His hirelings probably begin to wonder what the man is thinking as Finn rarely shuts up.

Razzel is lost deep in thought.  He has run into sort of a mental block.  The hole before him is small, too small for Munt so some kind of demolition is necessary for the group to move forward here, which will eat up time.  Or the expedition leader could split his force and send the stout ones to the gatehouse but this choice has so much that could go wrong.  And what if reinforcements come from the cave, or worse, the tower?  Finn is a quick thinker and usually the course appears to him clearly and instantly, he is out of his element lacking a clear obvious path here.  And so his mind spins on other topics.

The driven materialistic mercenary delves for what seems to him like long minutes pondering the lake and its inhabitants.  Both battles, last night and recently, were close.  Victories so close that the margin between life and death was razor thin.  Had Finn acted foolishly?  Was Omar right, is Razzel mad?  The young man recalls a phrase an old friend used to say, 'Crazy doesn't know its crazy'.  And what of the girl?  Finn still hears her screams of pain and suffering as if he's hearing her pleas now for the first time and it sends chills down his back.  It bothers the man that he couldn't save her.  The mage-thief opted out of a direct fight while breath and blood still remained with the girl, to save his own skin more than anything, he argued to save others from the same fate he and his team had to wait until the odds were in their favor.  Does this make him a coward?

Razzel returns to the here and now and sees his hands holding his trusted ash bow with an arrow pulled back to his cheek.  He had been taking aim at his foes without realizing it.  Finn lets the tension out and lowers his weapon, then turns to the others, allowing his gaze to fall on Omar last.  Finn smirks and half hearted thing before his expression turns serious.  ”You think I'm crazy.  Yer prob'bly right.  But I'm good crazy.”  Finn begins padding off down the wall and after a few steps turns to look behind him.  ”Com'on.  Lets go lick those ass fuckers.”


OOC:
Raddek, at long last I think I'm ready to come back on a regular basis.  Lol.  I know I know, I said that like a year ago and petered out.  I love your game and Finn so thanks for being patient with me.

As cool as it would be to have a coordinated 2 prong attack, it feels like too much could go wrong.  So Finn will keep it simple.  We will travel as a group in Stealth mode south to the gate.  The entry into the courtyard might not take them by surprise but the bigger guys should have less problems going through the half submerged gate as opposed to holes in the walls.   Plus this way we all stay as one group.  If we make it stealthed to the gatehouse I will attempt to sneak through into the courtyard first.  If I make it this far without being detected, side step to keep the path open for others to come in.  Aim using my bow for 3 rounds at the target who is the easiest shot (no cover) and fire.

This message was last edited by the player at 14:29, Tue 09 Aug 2022.

With a few colloquial words of motivation, Finn charges up his men before turning back towards the south and making his way towards the open, but sunken gate.  He does not linger overmuch to see how his words have fallen on his men, after all, it doesn't do too well to overanalyze every leadership decision...  And in any case, Finn is a man who generally believes that all of his actions are predestined towards success until other people get involved and mess them all up.

Still, it doesn't take long for Finn to figure out that he may have spent just a little longer choosing his words.

"Lick those ass fuckers?"  Bashar's soft Arabic voice carries up from behind them, his words full of confusion.  "Omar, I do not think..."

"Heathens don't always use the words they mean."  Omar cuts the other man off with a hiss as the five press their way forward and wind their way around the outer edge of the walls.

Labid hunkers down just outside the large gate house and kneels down before going in.  The center structure of the walls, the gatehouse seems to be a shadow of what it once was.  The whole thing is canted slightly to one side, overgrown with brambles, and is sunken deep into the marshy ground.  In fact, Finn estimates that there may only be four feet of clearance left in the open gateway, low enough that even Finn would have to crouch before making his way through.  The structure is at least another story high though, so climbing over would still take some real effort.  A few yards from the opening, the portcullis lies on the soggy ground, overgrown with grasses, while the iron-banded gates sit rotting to one side.

It isn't the scenery that has stopped Labid however, he points a finger slightly upwards, towards the top of the passage of the upper gate.

Finn sets down next to Labid and focuses his eyes.  The stone ceiling between the two gates is open in places, some foot wide holes that are bored through from the upper story...  But as Finn is looking he sees what appears to be the flash of an ankle through one of the far openings... and he thinks he hears the hint of Arabic conversation on the wind.

Suddenly, Finn feels a staff set upon his shoulder.  He jumps in his crouch, though he quickly realizes that it is Bashar as the man begins to talk, far too loudly for as close as they are to the enemy camp.

"Finn, I do not think we should lick any of these men.  Sodomy is a great sin and Allah will punish all..."

"Shut your mouth!"  Omar hisses, cutting the man off mid-sentence.

OOC:  A sort of look at what the holes look like, though they are wider, and the gatehouse is longer, probably at least 20 feet across.  You saw what looked to be the flash of an ankle through one of the holes.

As Finn crept along the dilapidated crumbling stone wall southward he reflected on his situation.  He felt good he decided without much thought.  Yes, he could feel it like a blanket covering him.  He yearned to replace the magical knowledge and paraphernalia that was lost at Perdition and the mage-thief feels like this is his best chance within scores of leagues.  And his companions.  Fine men all of them, and the way they pulled together at the lake and worked as a team.  It was inspired.  A wry smile breaks over the leaders face as he lets a quiet chuckle escape his crooked mouth.  They're working for a heathen no less.  That'll make for great stories when this is over.  Where'd you get the shiny new plow and horse?, Finn imagines the scene.  I worked under the supervision of an infidel, may he burn in hell for eternity.

Minutes later the plucky adventurer enters the gatehouse and it is as he expected.  While the thing is partially sunken, the gates have fallen allowing passage and the place stinks of putrid swamp, there is only one path.  Forward into the courtyard.  Razzel signals to Labid for the man to perform his specialty and he does not disappoint.  Both men are kneeling and spying up towards the room above the gatehouse when Finn feels something on his shoulder. His mind is already on high alert in this place.  It comes with the territory of this dangerous line of work but his paranoia is heightened by the scene he heard this morning of the woman's screams of pain and terror dragged out for half of an hour.  Razzel jumps, spins and a fist is already balled up and ready to strike when he realizes its one of his own.

Finn relaxes, that is until the man speaks in loud tones.  The leader of the expedition cringes wanting to shout at the buffoon but thankfully Omar handles it more diplomatically. Before they broke camp he counseled the men on some basic hand signals he thought would be useful.  Stop.  Go.  Trap.  Finn had no idea that he needed to include 'shut your piehole moron.'

One thing Razzel prided himself on was his quick wit.  Several possible scenarios played out in his minds eye but only one satisfied him.  Instantly Finn places a lone finger straight up and down over his lips and hisses quietly, making the universal 'shhhhh' gesture while looking Bashar in the eyes.  The sometimes con man tries hard to show his displeasure without being overly harsh, after all he has to remind himself there is room for error for each of them. Then reaching out with his free hand he grabs Bashar and shoves him.


OOC:
Me shoving Bashar was really for narrative sake.  Im not trying to be mean to him.  Dont say anything.  Try to use hand gestures.  Lead the men back out of the gatehouse and then continue on eastward, then north.  We're aiming for the hole roughly the middle of the eastern wall.  Stealth mode.  Bow is in left hand with an arrow knocked.  If we clear the gatehouse whisper to the men to draw weapons as I think a fight is very near.

Finn shushes his guide, grabbing him by the front before pushing him backwards.  Though the man seems utterly confused, the dual admonishments from both Omar and Finn send him into immediate silence.

Expecting an immediate fight, Finn turns back around towards the gate house, watching the murder holes for several moments, waiting for some sign of their enemy to make their way out or attack.  But as the time drags on, it appears Bashar's slip was not quite enough to alert, or else send their enemy to action, and Finn directs his men onward towards the east and around the other edge of the walls.

Making their way without incident, Finn moves on towards the large breach in the eastern wall.  In this area, it appears the ground has given out entirely below the stone, leaving a wide path of collapsed rubble.  The fallen stones are overgrown with grasses and thorny briars.  It appears that some attempts at reconstruction have begun at the sides of the breach, with a crude scaffold holding freshly replaced stone and block-and-tackle hoist that hangs from the top of the edifice.

Through the gap, Finn has a good view of the cave which lies to the north, and he can still see faint glimpses of blue mist pouring from the opening like a lethargic vaporous waterfall.

What the hell were these fanatics playing at?  Surely they had heard the man asking his inane questions.  Why then were they not chasing Finn and his entourage to turn them into tomorrows roasts on a spit for the ritual sacrifice?   The self appointed leader rubs his chin at the hole in the eastern wall as his eyes narrow while his face displays skepticism.  He offers a simple 'hmmmmm' to no one.

For a long moment Finn says nothing but just stares at his men while offering a half smile.  In truth he is listening in anticipation of men and arms closing on their position.  But after the time for it has come and gone he decides it is not to be.  A full smile returns to the mage-thiefs face as he slaps Bashar on the arm and whispers jovially.  ”Where I come from I got a lot of funny sayin's.  Words an' phrases that...I guess 'er local.  Makes sense to us in that city.  Dont take me so literal.  If I say I wanna lick a rummy...uh, a foe, it means I wanna wallop 'im.  Whack.  Bash.  Sock.  Thump.  Punch.”  Finn pauses slightly after each attempt but by the glazed look of his audience he isn't sure if the meaning is clearly communicated so words are tossed around the first being the most meaningful to Razzel.  At last he thinks the point has hit home.  ” 'Er in our case stab.  Labid.  If you will, if the coast is clear I'll take a peek.”

OOC:
Have Labid check for traps in the opening and assuming he finds none I will sneak into the opening just far enough to see whats going on to the south.  I want to see if the pair are still there, and if there is an outside path up to the top of the wall.  Also I want to see what the tower situation is.  A door that can be closed and locked I assume?

At Finn's bidding, Labid walks up to the opening in the walls, crouching down as he does as he scours the whole pathway through for traps.  It doesn't take him long before he turns his head to Finn and beckons the thief forward.

Stepping up to edge, Finn watches as Labid draws his finger across the breach, low to the ground... pointing at something.  Finn can't quite make it out at first, though after a few moments he sees it.  A wire which runs low across the length of the gap, burying itself somewhere near the base of the scaffolding on both sides...

OOC:  Stopping to see how you want to handle this before moving on.  If you wish to just step over it, roll vs. perception.  Otherwise, if you want Labid to disarm it or set it off, I can make the appropriate rolls.

As for the tower, there were double doors on the front, but like the gatehouse, they have fallen off and rusted over time.  Pretty much everything in this old structure appears to have fallen apart since Malak Almawt was alive.

Kneeling in the rubble it doesn't take long to see the danger.  A trip wire.  Finn places a finger on his lips gingerly and taps a few times while the man drifts in deep thought.  If he were trapping this break in the wall he'd put a pit on the other side so that when intruders jumped over the wire they'd hop right onto the flimsy lid of the pit, break through and fall into a make shift well.  Filled with alligators.  No, that's too redundant to have alligators in the lake and in the pit trap.  A bear.  A bear at the bottom of a pit would be worthy of a sunken library overrun by murderous cultists.

Razzel nods and points at the wire, then hops back and onto his feet to give the man space.


OOC:
Have Labid attempt to disarm the trap.

Finn steps back, gesturing for Labid to take care of the trap as best as he is able before they continue.  Labid removes his knife from his belt and stretches forward on hands and knees, gently running the blade across the fine wire, back and forth until the fine thread snaps and falls to the ground on both sides.

Labid tenses for a moment, waiting for some element of the trap to take effect, though several moments pass without any reaction.  Labid pads forward gently on hands and knees, up and into the broken section of wall, checking for more trips or traps, though after only a few moments he beckons Finn on and the thief finally makes his way forward to the courtyard.

Finn feels his way forward as well, wary that the wire was just part of some sort of pit trap, though the ground seems solid enough ahead of him.  He thrusts his head around the wall, looking towards the tower and the makeshift altar towards the south.

The woman is still there...  Clad in black with her back turned away...  making some ado over the altar or near it...

The monster of a man stands over her like a hulking beast...  a bear of a man... or even an ogre of one...  He is unmoving, though Finn cannot but help notice the brutal looking flail that hangs from his hip...

Thin wisps of black smoke begin to curl upwards from behind the two.

OOC:  You are about 12 yards away from the two, who are the only ones you can see in the courtyard still.  The man is an absolute hulk.  Certainly the largest, strongest, human you have ever seen in your life.  Think Andre the Giant that ate another Andre the Giant.  The woman is clad in an all black robe which obscures just about everything about her below the neck.  Her hair is black and falls down just past her shoulders.  She seems to be working while the man simply stands over her, watching.

There is possibly a path up to the top of the wall, though the repairs on the wall and scaffolding are blocking your way at both sides.  Probably the easiest way would be to climb the scaffolding, or simply to go around it and climb up the wall itself.

”Run little rabbit”, flows effortlessly from the mage-thief's mouth soft as silk in a half whisper while he stares off southward.  His gaze is strangely fixated on the mountain of a man and Finn's mind takes him back in time.

Almost instantly his minds eye is filled with the moving pictures of colorful imagination we call memory.  It was the spring of '90 and a teenage Finn Razzel was as tall as he is now but not filled out.  He was a skinny bean pole of something half way between kid and man.  But because he grew up on the mean streets of Azer he had by this young age already acquired several of the skills which he wielded to make a name for himself, his silver tongue and a talent for athletics.  He and his partner Ratri took a job finding a green jade which had been stolen out of the home of one Sir Rell Wallon.  They had a description of the gem, of the bandit who was seen fleeing from the estate and other necessary details.  Curiously it seemed that Finn and his partner were assumed to be too incompetent to find the real cause for the missing gem because the pair discovered that there was no catburglar.  Sir Wallon was having an affair and sold the gem to pay for his amorous activities.  As Finn and Ratri were closing in on the scandalous couple they ran afoul of Wallon's secret henchmen.  Finn can still see them clearly to this day.  Eshin was a greasy haired man with dirty hands and a crooked grin that seemed to never fade, but it was Mas that caught the young con mans attention that night as Finn and his partner were lured into a tavern bedroom and trapped.  Mas stood a full three heads taller than Finn but that wasn't the most striking thing about the brute.  Mas's muscles were enormous compared to anything he'd seen, and for a time he worked with a traveling circus.  Mas's bicep was bigger than Finns head.  He had obliviously used his gigantic size and perceptibly impossible strength to make a killing as a mercenary, both figuratively and literally.  The mans nose had been broken more times than an aging whores bed frame and he had several prominent and deep scars about his hands and face.  These were like medals that generals wore on dress uniforms to display their battle experience.  As thoughts of literally being ripped in half by this towering monster the freakish beast looked Finn in the eye, smirked and said with an air of malice, “run little rabbit”.  It was in that modest bedroom where lovers often met that Finn hopped, skipped and jumped out of the way of attempted blow after blow.  The young con man learned a critical lesson that has stuck with him ever since, to survive a fight with someone twice your size, don't get hit.

The plucky adventurer pulls himself back out of the sight from the south and turns to face his men.  His face adorns the mantle of leader once again.  ”I ain't 'bout ta try ta guess what they's up to but it ain't good.”  Razzel flicks his chin at Labid.  ”We saw feet up 'bove in the gatehouse.  They got guards around.  Trouble is we don't know how many.  If we're gonna beat 'em, and we are, we have ta keep the 'vantage on our side.  And that ain't numbers.  They got more'a them than there is'a us.  So how we stay alive is we keep the fights the way we want 'em.  We hit 'em with surprise an' don't bite off more than we can chew.”


OOC:
Finns overall plan is fairly simple.  We need to use guerrilla tactics here.   Hit a small outer force using surprise.  If we look to be winners, we kill them all.  If we can run down fleeing men so long as we don't chase them into another group of men.  If it looks like are going to loose we flee and regroup elsewhere.

Finn is worried about an unknown amount of guards on the walls.  So if our attack seems to provoke a large numbers of guards we run.  Finn is also concerned that the guards will have ranged weapons, and try to pick us off from the top of the wall.  So this is his plan.  Finn will climb the scaffolding onto the wall top.  He will then aim for max aim and fire at the bodyguard.  All of Finns men will be at the hole on ground level.  Omar will likewise be aiming with his bow at the bodyguard.  Finn and Omar will whisper to time their shots in unison.   Lets assume this triggers a response from the guards.  Omar and the men will stay on ground level to deal with that threat.  Finn will remain on the wall to deal with any guards on an upper level.  One of our top objectives is kill the bodyguard before he reaches my ground force.  If the black robed priest and bodyguard flee into the tower we will deal with that turn as it happens.  Do my men have questions or objections?

We don't as a group have any shields do we?

This message was last edited by the player at 02:34, Sun 21 Aug 2022.

Finn steps up towards the scaffolding, intending to climb the thin planks of wood as if a makeshift ladder up to the top of the walls.

But...  as Finn has his foot half-raised something feels wrong.  The plank in his hand is giving far too much, even before he has put weight on it, and for a moment he doubts that the support can hold his weight, let alone all that of the stone it was holding in place.

Then Finn sees it, the thin bit of wire... the one Labid had cut, which runs all the way to the base of the scaffolding, tied off right at the bottom of the wood supports... where the planks have been sharpened to a point.

And the truth crashes down around Finn as he yanks his hand off of the scaffolding as if touching a hot stove...  He had thought the trap was a pitfall, a wire to set an intruder off balance and send him to his doom in a deeply dug pit.  But instead, the wire was not meant to trip at all...  It was meant to be kicked away... to yank out the supports out that were holding up the stones, which would then fall... crushing anyone standing in the breach.

These were not repairs at all, but a crudely laid trap disguised as repairs.  And Finn had almost tried to climb up the murderous contraption.

His heart thudding slightly with the close call, Finn shakes off the close call and instead walks around to the outside of the walls, scaling up the stone with relative ease.

Atop the battlements, he perches on one knee glaring to the south at the two.  His view now slightly bettered by the elevation, Finn can make out the woman on the altar from about the shoulders up.  Her head is shaved bald, and her body, at least that which Finn can see is unclothed, though it is heavily tattooed.

Behind the altar, the woman in black appears to be making a large fire, which is just starting to crackle and smoke to life.

OOC:  I'm assuming that plan is going to change slightly based on the trap specifics that you just discovered.  Standing in the breach for any length of time (especially if the combat went there) seems foolhardy as the propped up stones are big enough to crush even Munt.  Feel free to put the plan in OOC: though do me the favor of putting your action (whispering and firing your bow for example) IC so that I don't jump the gun on you, thinking that you are ready when you weren't quite there.

Once again as it has so many times the fates smile down upon Finn and he narrowly sidesteps danger.  Now he perches on the high wall looking down on the priestess and her menacing bodyguard.  The urge wells up within him to quick fire an arrow into the brutes neck or better, the witch.  But calm and reason win out for he knows nothing good will come of his loosing the advantage of surprise.

Just as easily as he climbed up Razzel hops down off the wall to land in the middle of his hirelings.  A nasty smirk adorns his face and a hint of malice lingers on his lips.  ”Listen here.  Bashar, yer gonna trip that trap.  Poke it good with yer staff, but, wait til we get to the coraner.  When the rocks fall you holler like they broke ya in half.”


OOC:
Bashar will wait by the hole as he is my weakest fighter.  The rest of us will move at a quick walk back south towards the gatehouse.  Not super slow but nothing noisy.  When we reach the SE corner Bashar will use his staff to poke the trap and make the boulders fall.  Priority #1 is that Bashar doesn't get hurt.  If he takes a few attempts that's ok.  When the rocks fall Bashar is to cry out in pain as if he was vaught under them.  He is to cry audibly for help and make sounds of pain until he can hear the guards on the other side the wall.  When he hears the guards arrive shut up and head to the gatehouse to join us.

When we reach the gatehouse I will use stealth to peek inside and assuming its clear we will use stealth to sneak through to the edge of the courtyard.  If Bashar was successful by this time I assume the guards will be talking about the ruckus and organizing a team to investigate.  I will peak into the courtyard.  If I see what I expect, which is the guards are distracted by the fallen rocks and the priest and brute are still doing the same I will begin casting Great Haste.  Its a 3 second casting time.  My instructions are when they see me begin casting wait 2 seconds and then they are to head into the courtyard and attack the priestess and any guards.  I will take on the brute.

This message was last edited by the player at 06:26, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Finn explains the plan.  Bashar will be set as bait, a distraction for the baddies so that Finn and the other true fighters can get a few hits in amidst the chaos before their enemies are any wiser.  It seems to Finn as he explains that Bashar seems eager to make up for his earlier blunder, for he simply nods enthusiastically, making no complaint about his solitary role despite the danger.

As soon as he is confident that everyone knows the plan, Finn bids Bashar good luck before turning with the others and heading towards the corner of the walls, where the spire climbs up into the low-hanging clouds above.

As they turn the corner, Finn sends a brief glance off towards his hire, who he sees jabbing the bottom of the scaffolding with his staff from a distance.

They haven't made it more than a few steps before they can hear the heavy sound of rockfall in the distance.

Cccrraaaathunkthunkthunk!

"Allah no!!!"  The sound of Bashar's scream carries to them even from around the walls and the tower.  "Help me!  Allah deliver me!"

Finn presses forward, increasing his gate as he splashes through the low water where the edges of the wall have sunken into the shore of the lake.  Behind him, the others seem to be both keeping up and keeping quiet, the rustling grass at their feet being far overshadowed by the distant screams of their companion.

Counting in his head at the start of the distraction, Finn has made it to about twenty as he kneels down at the edges of the gatehouse, peering up and through the entryway to see if the coast is clear.

Through the small holes in the ceiling of the gate, Finn can see the backs of a handful of feet, as if the men are standing and facing the back wall of the gatehouse.  Voices too trickle down, excited and talking over each other such that they are hard to distinguish, though a few seem to carry over the others.

"If he's alive Hiatha will have something to say about it!"

"His blood will be spilt for the master!  More blood to bring the cursed one back!"

OOC:  It's been about 20 seconds since the trap was set off.  The guards in the second story of the gate house don't seem to be moving yet.  I've got a map below to give you a little better perspective as to where you are.  You no longer have any view of the courtyard.  The 'M' holes are the holes in the ceiling of the gatehouse that you can see through that are probably about a yard wide.  Everyone you can see is lined up near the back of the gatehouse, facing the back wall, although you have a very limited view (like lower calf and down) even of the people you can see.

Please post any immediate action, or what you are waiting on in order to start moving in.


This message was last edited by the GM at 18:45, Thu 25 Aug 2022.

Everything is going to plan.  As Finn creeps towards the gatehouse his men are quiet enough.  He hears the crash of the heavy rocks and the screams of his actor.  And he knows Bashar is only playing because if the man had truly accidentally spilled the trap on himself his calls would be something like, 'FINNNNNNN.  IT HURRRRTS SO FUCKING BAD.  COME SAVE ME'.

Razzel peeks around the corner, now any second the second floor guards will rush off towards the breach and the enemy incursion, to do their duty and protect the keep.  Any second.  Finn eyes the feet and counts.  One, two, three, maybe four men.  Just another second while they gather their weapons and they'll be running off.

With a grimace Finn turns to eye Omar.  The plucky leader fumes at no one in particular.  He makes a face as if he's just eaten half a raw onion while a rhino has stepped on his foot.  He turns back to the second floor men, raises his bow and draws back the feathers to his ear.  Yer tauntin' me, aint cha?  He only half hears them chatting about the cursed one.

The mage-thief would love to hamstring one or two of those murderous sons-of-bitches but he knows the best thing he has going right now is surprise.  He turns to whisper at his men.  ”Be quiet an' dont let the big guy hit ya.”


OOC:
By 'lined up near the back of the gatehouse, facing the back wall...', I assume you mean they are near the outer wall but looking in the direction of the inner wall?  So they are more south but looking north towards the noise of the fallen boulders?

I am proceeding with the assumption that they can see through the murder holes and some kind of windows that allow them to see east, west, north and south out of the second floor.  Which means they cant see directly down very well except through the murder holes.

Plan is the same as before.  Sneak through the gatehouse and stay to the right side.  Look for traps as we go.  Order is as you have; me, Omar, Labid, Munt.  I will move to the box just northeast of the S.  Peek around the corner.  If I see what I expect, the priestess and brute casting and guarding, cast my spell in a whisper.  After 2 seconds they should go.  My instructions to them is don't let them flee into the tower and don't get hit by the big guy.

Finn is somewhat surprised when his brilliantly sprung trap doesn't seem to lead to the whole group of guards vacating the gate house, but he knows regardless that whatever distraction Bashar has provided, it isn't likely to get any better than it is now.

With a whisper to his men, Finn slinks forward, crouching down slightly to get underneath the sunken archway, and keeping his eyes on the murder holes lest one of the guards above notice his movement.  And it's lucky he is paying attention, for as Finn is almost through the archway, he notices another of the guards... this one looking back down through the hole at him, his face contorted in surprise.

"Intruders!"  Finn hears the shout from above in a strange accent of Arabic, though he's already through and on to the courtyard, stepping just past the entryway to keep from being a target either from the guards above or from the witch and her henchman.

"Shit!"  Omar curses as he too hurries through the short overhang, just avoiding a thick-shafted spear that is thrust down from above.

"Intruders?  Below us!  Where?  But Hiatha?"  Voices cut across each other in confusion from above in the gatehouse, and Labid rushes the last few feet, screeching as a spear narrowly misses him as well.

Munt is the only one who seems undisturbed, grabbing the last spear that strikes down through the murder hole and pulling on it with force, causing a scream from above as a man falls down through the hole, striking down hard on the earth below, splayed out on his bare chest as he stares up in surprise at the four.

Down the short stretch of the wall, Finn can see the woman, standing up from a crouch where she was tending a low burning fire.  Much farther beyond, at the gap where Bashar had set their trap, the massive guard lumbers over the freshly churned stone, just now turning to see what is afoot behind him.

Seeing all his surprise go up in smoke, Finn concentrates on his spellwork, knowing that hitting his enemies hard and early is his best chance to win without injury.

OOC:  Map below.  All the enemies seem surprised, though at least now are aware of your presence.  A few good rolls have resulted in misses on all the spear attacks from the guards, not to mention Munt grabbing one of the spears and heaving one of the men down onto the ground from above.  The man is unarmored, and unarmed (his spear having been ripped from his hands by Munt) and clothed only in a leather wrap around his waist.  He is heavily tattooed however, with both black and colored images crawling across his body, limbs and even up his face.

While I'm sure you intended to keep the group from being seen by the woman/brute, there simply isn't enough space to stand for all of you that isn't vulnerable either to spears from above or sight from the courtyard.  I figured the latter was the lesser evil.

I left you at 1 second of concentration left before you cast greater haste just in case being found changed your plan.  I accidentally charged you for it already though, so I'll give you the FP back if you do change your mind.

Let's do 5 seconds worth of action, or whatever you are comfortable with less than that.

Finn rushes himself through the swampy and decaying gatehouse.  He knows time is against him.  His small force is vastly outnumbered.  The obvious tactic is to use guerrilla warfare, however, that works best when the small rebel force knows the local terrain and can use it and hit and run tactics against a larger group.  Sadly Razzel is outnumbered and wandering around this fort blind compared to its occupants.  Thankfully the plucky leader has something that gives them an edge...Finn.

The priestess comes into view and her machinations on fire starting.  The adventurer has no idea what she's up to but it cant be good so putting an end to it, and her, is job number one.  Finn knows the perfect spell for this occasion but it is difficult to pull off.  The incantation and finger movements are precise and complex, it will take all of his keen wit and concentration to pull off.  While casting the optimistic entrepreneur chuckles to himself as he spies the dumb oaf investigating the ruse at the break in the wall.  And finally Finn is rewarded when the ritual is complete as the magic flows through him and while the energy needed was costly Finn barely feels the punch.  Instead his senses are heightened.  Time moves slower.  For him it as if the world just woke up from a long nap, or their clothes were soaked in tar making any movement laborious.  Finn's hand jerks to his belt and instantly the long finely crafted blade is in his hand.  His feet begin beating forward towards the evil woman.  He casts a glance towards the mountain of a man who is too far away from his charge to be any good, and he tosses a chiding comment.  ”Made you look.”


OOC:
Whew.  Lol.  Another lucky feather in my cap that all the spear attacks missed, and resulted in one of the 2nd floor guards winding up prone among my henchmen.  Hmmm, you made a point of mentioning the extensive tattoo work.  Seems like this is supposed to be significant but I haven't the foggiest.  Did these symbols or a people having tattoos get mentioned before and in my on and off attendance I brain farted it?  Or is this foreshadowing?

It was my hope that our presence wouldn't be detected until we attacked but for a brief time Finn was a roadie for the folk minstrel bard group, Thee Rolling Stones, and he tries to live by one their lyrics.  'You cant always get what you want.'  As usual you guessed as I would have requested.  And perfect on the 2/3 done casting.  No, being seen does not change my plans, I will continue casting and assume the roll I submitted stands.  I will give you 5 seconds worth and you can edit as needed.

Sword is in main hand, bow is in off hand.  Drop the arrow I had knocked earlier.

This message was last edited by the player at 05:28, Wed 31 Aug 2022.

Finn smiles with satisfactions as he casts his spell and the world seems to slow down around him.  Behind him, Labid shouts with glee as he brings down his club in slow motion upon the fallen guard.

Finn's sword leaps to his hand and he starts off at a run straight for the black robed woman, hoping to take someone quickly out of the fray.  As he is running, he has a moment to look around as he charges forward, and a few things occur to him.

Just behind the woman and to the side is a large bundle of wood, which almost seems like a mattress for another woman.  This second woman, lying on the bundles is totally nude, tattooed from her knees to her wrists, and is clearly dead, for she is coated in blood which has poured from a gaping wound in her chest.  The bundles of wood even now crackle to life with flame, licking upwards in hunger towards the newly deceased.

The woman in black reaches... her movements laughably slow, like her body is held back by iron weights... towards the wall, grabbing from it a long spear which she grabs in her right hand in a balanced grip while in her left hand she produces some blackened sphere...  She grins.  Her lips spreading to display a mouthful of inhuman teeth, each one shaped or filed down to a point like a wolf or a shark.

Finn readies himself for the attack, bringing his broadsword overhead for a vicious slash, though at the last moment, the mage throws the blackened orb straight at him!  Finn first thinks to cartwheel around the missile, though as he tries, he realizes he won't quite clear its path.  Luckly for Finn, the ball too seems to be flying at half-speed giving him time to reorient and spin away.  He brings his sword down in a brutal cut, though the woman seems ready, heaving her body out of the path of his weapon just in time.

Behind him, Omar screams in pain!  Finn reorients, stepping to the side and slashing again, though the foul witch again dodges, moving her body along in synch with Finn's attacks.

The movement gives him some view to the side however, and he can see Omar, his shield hanging low and to the side as he continues to run, still a few yards away, his face screwed up in a painful expression, though he holds his sword ready to strike.

Munt and Labid seem farther back still, Munt charging from Labids side while Labid, the youngest of Finn's party, staggers upwards from a crouch, the leathers on his right leg sprouting a slow drip of red which flows down to his knee.

Finn attacks again!  His sword lashing out, though miraculously again the woman backpedals away just in time as she jabs with her own weapon, Finn narrowly missing the strike as he backflips away.

Finn attacks yet again, and this time, finally, he manages a hit!  And though his sword meats the resistance of steel underneath the woman's black robes, nevertheless he manages to cut open a wide rent in her side and blood flows freely down the black of her robes.

All at once, chaos breaks out, for Omar is there, his own broadsword smashing downwards, though somehow, miraculously, the woman swats her spear to the side, catching the blade and sending it astray.

"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!"  The scream would be laughable if the man behind it weren't so massive, his legs carrying him at ridiculous speeds despite his enormous size.  He holds forward a round shield, set with a spike just at the center, charging pell-mell into the fray, and readying to smash into Omar, though at the last second he stumbles, carrying foward and running straight past the outdoorsman.

And Munt is there too!  He tries to smash into the ogre...  Though he as well misses the mark, stumbling closest to Finn before he staggers back up and turns!

OOC:  That was 4 seconds.  You still have 7 seconds left on your Great Haste spell.  Note that you can do an all out attack and a regular attack and still have normal defenses for the turn based on the great haste spell.  On that round though, having the extra defense from the altered time rate definitely saved you.

Map is posted below.  Omar has sustained a moderate magical injury.  Labid has sustained a moderate injury as well.  You aren't seeing any of the guards from the gatehouse yet, including the one that fell through to the ground, though it appeared that Labid attacked him pretty quickly after he fell.

You've also managed a moderate injury to the witch, who seems a much more capable fighter than you initially gave her credit for.

The bonfire and sacrifice are in the little alcove between the gatehouse and the tower.  The big guy has a readied shield and an unreadied flail and is facing south.  Munt is facing east but turning back towards the fight. 


This message was last edited by the GM at 11:31, Tue 06 Sept 2022.

Finn Razzel is no stranger to danger.  But never in his wildest dreams could he have guessed this is where he'd be in his quest to reconstitute the treasures he lost in the fire at Perdition.  Battling a priestess and her ogre sized henchmen, possibly getting flanked any second by more vile fiends from the gatehouse.  His heart beat in his chest with excitement.  Even the crocodiles at the lake didn't pique his interest like this!

As the plucky leader bobs and weaves around the woman's spear thrusts he giggles with glee at how slow she is.  She seems a capable fighter but sadly, for her, she is no match for the cocky mercenary.  Even without his magical boon.  But the flail wielded by her minion will maim or kill his helpers and this Finn cannot abide.  He had intended on taking on the big man alone while the others took down the witch but it seems the fates had other plans.  So be it.

Finn briefly ponders the magic coursing through him causing him to act like a child after consuming their own weight in sugar.  This is damned wun'nerful.  Why ain't I doin' this more?  His mind dances across all the possibilities for this spell.  All manner of contests were wagers are concerned.  Chopping wood.  Sprinting.  Drinking.  But even as he imagines his purses bursting at the seams full of gold coin from all the bets he'd win it occurs to him why he doesn't whip this incantation out at every party and late night tavern trip.  Magic has a dark side.  Teachers call it backfire.  When magic goes right the effects are awe inspiring and miraculous.  But when magic gets away from the caster the results are sometimes terrifying. Finn never went to a proper school to learn magic but he heard tell of a professor who only had one leg.  He had a peg leg though he wasn't born that way.  In his youth the man got too big for his own britches after learning how to transport himself from one place to another.  He would magic himself everywhere, even from one room to the next in his own house.  They say practice makes perfect and thats true to a point.  But another saying is it only takes one.  The man had cast the spell so often and the magical trips become so mundane he let his mind wander during the casting of one of these spells.  And that was all it took.  The spell worked but not as intended.  He went where he wanted, downstairs.  His right leg went somewhere else.  He's still looking for the leg to this day.

With a soft growl and a sneer Finn fixes his gaze on the woman.  He needs to end her sooner rather than later.  If the men from the gatehouse join the fray while the ogreish beast is still swinging, well its not something he wants to think about.  Sending caution to the wind Razzel throws himself into a vicious series of chops and swings.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:29, Thu 08 Sept 2022.

Though Finn had intended to square off against the giant, he finds himself entirely occupied with the witch who dodges his blows with superhuman consistency.  Blow after blow she veers and dips, making Finn's blade repeatedly miss, though he does just as well to avoid every thrust of her spear.

A few steps away, three men fight together as one to take down the giant.  Munt lurches forward, grabbing the behemoth's leg as he reaches to his belt to draw his massive flail.  Omar and Labid each circle around slashing with sword and swinging with club, though blow after blow the thing manages to take off of the rim of his shield as he squirms away, Munt still hanging on by his fingertips.

With a roar, the beast of a man shoves Munt away as the hunchback had attempted to switch his grip to the flail.  Munt stumbles away, his body reversing on nimble feet as he squares off again, looking to attack again.  The flail hurls around in a wild and deadly arc, though Munt has more than enough time to crouch below it before lunging in again, this time jumping upwards into the brute's face!

With a shout as a response, the behemoth staggers back, bringing his shield to bear just in time and knocking Munt away.  But in all the chaos, he has forgotten to keep track of Omar and Labid...

The giant man screams as blood streams from his leg!  Omar's sword is slicked with blood and the blow seems so devastating that were it a normal man, the leg would be severed clean!  But somehow the giant still stands, stumbling to regain his balance.  Labid too takes advantage of the moment, smashing his club with a meaty thwack! against the leathers at the giant's hip.

Hoping to take advantage of the distraction, Finn lashes his sword in again and again!  This time, finally he scores two hits against the witch as her defenses finally succumb to Finn's never ending barrage of attacks.  His sword slices neat gouges across her chest and shoulder, scraping across the steel under her robes and bringing forth two, bright fonts of blood!

The witch staggers back, her breathing labored and her body sagging under her injuries.  She holds out a hand in front of her, at first Finn thinks to plead for mercy... at least until he hears her speak in some banal language.  [Language unknown:  "Om taasil ekse!"]

Finn falters for just a moment as he feels her magic wash over him like a wave, his breath catches in his chest as his body fights back whatever spell she has cast!

Far down along the wall, Finn can see two or three men stepping out from the main gatehouse into the courtyard...

OOC:  That was 4 seconds, which was probably far too long for me to do all in one post, but nothing serious happened until the end.  Let's do 2 seconds this time around.

First of all though, I need you to roll vs. HT.  Fit does count for you.

The witch has taken various cutting injuries and appears to be reeling from her injuries.  The giant appears to be still in fighting shape, despite taking what should be a crippling (or maiming) wound to the leg.

I won't go through all the details of what happened on all four turns, but you did end up using your two hero points on acrobatics rerolls and earned one back for a crit success.  Map is almost entirely unchanged apart from the two or three men who are poking their heads out into the courtyard and not moving your direction yet.

Magic is a funny thing.  For many centuries scholars and thaumatologists have been scratching and clawing to discover the secret recipes for bending the known laws of nature beyond the breaking point of common understanding.  In the largest universities where they possess all or at least almost all known spells there must be hundreds.  And that doesn't include the new and mutated effects created through research and experiment, or the accidental effects of misfire produced by overly risky spell casting.  So when the witch holds up her hand and utters some strange unknown words Finn freezes, just for the briefest of moments.  His mind scrambles in wonder at what might happen.  What arcane force is she trying to unleash?  Turn him into mist?  Or a toad?  Turn his innards into black sludge?  Send his hands and feet to another dimension?  Open a portal to another world to summon some devil to fight by her side?

Finn can feel for a fleeting bit of time the mana flow through and around him.  That part of energy of the world that resides in all things.  It covers him like a blanket and he cringes for he knows it means to do him harm.  His resolve toughens, his mind hardens itself as he prepares for the incursion.  And then, nothing.

Finns eyes turn as big as dinner plates as he cackles at the woman.  He means to say, 'Ya foolish evil crone' but in his excitement and laughter his words spill out as gibberish.  His mind is racing with the treasure trove at this priestess's command.  A mail shirt and she fights like a seasoned warrior.  She must be important.  Every mage keeps notes.  Or books if they have been pursuing their craft long enough.  Her books will becomes his.  He aches for it to be so.  As in his bones hurt knowing how close he is to taking her knowledge.  After Razzel considers it just compensation.  She and her followers kill innocent travelers and locals for nefarious ends, its only right that he kills her and takes her stuff.  Then a delicious idea pops in his  mind.  Maybe there is a reward out for this woman.  Now his face twists into a maniacal visage of near bloodlust mixed with glee as his sword flashes around her impossibly fast.


OOC:
Attack the priestess.  1st action – AoA for 2 attacks.  2nd action – normal attack with defense.  I don't want to kill her, I want to speak to her after combat is over.   So attack her until she falls unconscious then shift my focus on the beast.  Is he an ogre or half-ogre, or just a gigantic man?  If she falls then attack him until he is dead.

I assume I have 3 seconds left of my spell so I will roll those and see where we stand.

Finn feels drunk with power, his body and mind working in flashes of a moment that the witch cannot even begin to handle.  Though she has held out, perhaps longer than she should have, Finn can feel her fading.  Her actions are more sluggish, her spear thrusts wild, and her spellcraft apparently useless!

Finn laughs like a mad fool as his blade slashes again and again and again!  Though the witch smacks one blow away with her spear and twists out of the way of another, Finn's third blow cuts deep into the cloth of her robes and the steel below, bringing forth a font of crimson!

But the witch is laughing too...  A cold, high cackle that matches Finn in its raucousness and intensity.  She thrusts her spear at Finn's chest, which he dodges easily with a flourishing backbend...

And still the witch cackles right back.

"You fools!"  She crows in accented Arabic.  She grins from her bloodied teeth, her eyes locked in a look of mad jubilation.  "You are Skoulos's now!  You have been..."

But what Finn and the others had been would have to wait, at least for a few more moments.

Shink!  Shink!  Shink!

Thrice, Finn's blade smashes across the witch's body breaking links of her armor underneath and spraying blood in dizzying arcs.  The woman stumbles backwards from the triad of blows, her words caught in her mouth as she collapses to her back, her spear falling from her hand.

Finn turns his attention immediately to the other three, just in time to see Omar cut twin, massive swathes out of the giant's hip and thigh while Munt holds on to the man's weapon arm with a bearhug like grip.  The giant roars and staggers, sinking down to a single knee before he is fallen upon by Omar and Labid who hack and smash at his exposed neck and head, knocking him flat in only another moment.

A half-dozen yards away, the handful of gate guards who had begun to slowly move in Finn's direction suddenly think better of the idea as the two agents fall and instead they turn and flee, running at a full sprint back towards the gate!

Finn feels the magic leaving his body as his chest heaves with effort.  On the ground at his feet, the witch struggles to prop herself up to her elbows.

OOC:  It is 1345 on the 1st of June (I went back and looked, your thread started in May, somehow I made the mistake of going back a month instead of forward somewhere... consider it an April Fool's Joke, all the previous references to April have been edited).

You have taken 1 FP for the extended combat, though it now appears to be over unless you want to give chase to the guard.  The witch appears awake, though impossibly injured.  To be frank, you'd be amazed if she isn't close to death.  The giant (really just a very large man) is unconscious and dead or dying.

As for your folks, Omar is moderately injured and Labid lightly injured, and you haven't seen Bashar since he set off the trap.

All sorcerers inherently know when the end of the magic is near.  The recipe, the spell pulls a planned amount of mana from the surrounding life and when the pulled mana is done flowing through the mage the magic is over.  Done.  Finished.  Every magic user can feel it and Finn knows his heightened abilities are coming to an end, and the witch is still standing.   How, he wonders.  Its not an incredulous kind of disbelief that tickles him.  No, Razzel has pulled off many a fine feat over the years and while cocky he's not so arrogant or stupid to believe he's the only one on an entire continent who could muster such marvelous acts.  Its more a curiosity thing.  Her skill and stamina are inhuman, so where does it come from?  Is she a religious witch and not a scientific witch as he originally thought?  Does she come from some hidden sect of warrior witches who are just worth two men for every one of them?  Or, and this is what makes the mage-thief salivate like a pig at feeding time, does she possess some totem, an item that stores her power to be released at opportune times such as a skirmish?  The mystery is tantalizing.

And then it happens, as he knew it would.  One, two, three solid blows and the priestess's feet falter.  The plucky leader didn't know how or when she would fall to his quick strokes, but he knew she would.  But, what was the cryptic phrase she uttered?  Is this some kind of mind game or is she gloating in her defeat that Finn and company have indeed lost something?  This mystery is even more perplexing.

His razor sharp mind makes short work of the battle scene.  The impossibly huge bodyguard is off the board as they say in game terms, the witch seems impotent and the gatehouse men have apparently lost their zeal for the attack.  Finns smile is warm and broad as he nods to his men, a twinkle in his eye.  His breath is even but heavy and he seems in good control of his limbs.  Briefly he turns his gaze upon the strange woman and frowns as he points of the tip of his sharp blade at her, slicked with her own blood.  ”Ya so much as twitch'a finger er mak'a soun' an' I'll separate yer head from yer body.  Do whatt'ah say an' ya might see the sunrise t'morrah.”

Now Finn kneels beside the woman as he wipes the blood clean off his blade all the while spewing commands at his men.  Razzel feels warmed by the splendid job of his troops and he yearns to commend them but it wouldn't do to praise them in front of the enemy.  He does not want to show his hand, that this team is newly formed and needs the affirmations.


OOC:
She spoke in accented Arabic?  As in it was a second language for her?  Skoulos.  That name sounds familiar.  Has Finn heard it before?

My big picture plan is to heal my men, rest and question the witch.  But not here.  We're too close to the cave.  If possible keep the witch from dying but do it as quickly as possible.

Send Munt and Labid to retrieve Bashar, however, they need to be careful of the gatehouse men.  I don't want Munt and Labid getting picked off.  So if they can bring Bashar in without confronting the gatehouse men or getting ambushed then have them bring him back.

Between Omar and myself one of us will bandage the witch's wounds (I'm guessing I have the higher FA), just enough to keep her from dying, and one of us will hold a weapon at the ready on her.  If she so much looks like she's going to cast then kill her.   Try to keep her from bleeding out but don't do any more than the minimum.  Remove her armor and any gear.  Take what looks useful.  If successful, use some cloth to gag her and bind her hands and feet.

Assuming the group is reunited by this time have the men do a quick search and grab anything of value.  Someone should make sure the giant is truly dead.  Whether the witch is alive or dead we will leave through the gatehouse.  I will carry the witch over my shoulder with Omar behind me, he is to watch her and if she tries anything funny he is to kill her.  On our way out I will say to the gatehouse men that they're going to let us leave in peace or we'll kill them just like we did the witch and her bodyguard.

Head anywhere that seems like a suitable resting place perhaps 5 – 10 minutes from the ruined keep.  Far side of the lake will work if we wont be bothered by crocs.

Overjoyed, though unsurprised at his men's success, Finn gives his fighters a quick nod before turning his attention to the witch.  With a brief threat, punctuated by the point of his sword slicked with gore, Finn thinks to dazzle the woman into obedience.  However, before he has even finished the words the woman begins to laugh, bringing frothing bubbles of crimson between her sharpened teeth and lips.

“You are too late, fool!"  The woman smiles despite the clear deathblow.  "Already my master has breached the vault!  You can change nothing!  And nothing will change save for your devotion to Skoulos which will grow ever more in your souls!  You are blessed men to be vassals of Skoulos forever more!  As for me, I give my life to again raise the lich, so that I might live forever!”

The witch has cast the spell before Finn has the time to react.  One moment she is laying, propped on her elbows, the next, she holds a massive orb of storm blackness nearly the size of her own head.  He casts his sword down, insistent that he will kill her before she can injure any of his men, though Finn is the later of the two.

With an expression of glee painted in blood across her face, the witch pulls the black orb into her own flesh, shuddering in pain as her body imbibes it whole.  The witch spasms once, then comes to a rest, undisturbed for only a single instant before Finn's sword falls, cleaving all the way into the soft and sodden ground, the woman's head rolling freely, just as Finn had promised...

Though he is keen to pick up whatever loot he can find, Finn also knows he must rest, lest he find himself engaged in battle once again.  He quickly searches the dead woman, finding beneath her robes a set of chainmail far too small for anyone in their party but Labid, a small bottled potion, as well as an ornate and expensive looking knife shaped like a snake.  As for the giant, the fighter seems to only have his massive flail, a spiked medium shield, and his oversized armors.

Rushing his men along, Finn hurries out the gate, finds Bashar hiding just outside the gatehouse.  They wade their way along across the bridges and on to the far side of the lake to rest.

While Finn lays in the damp grass, Omar and Munt keep watch, though nothing seems to follow them on through the gates, and the guard has well and truly fled.

"That was one hell of a fight."  Omar says, his voice low and steady.  "I have never seen a man move that fast...  How did you do it Finn?"

"What do you think the woman mean when she said we were blessed to be vassals of Skoulos?"  Labid asks, interrupting Omar's thought.  "Does any of you feel... different?"

"My hands."  Munt answers plainly, holding up his massive appendage for the others to see.  His fingers, which are always deformed, now sport webbing at the base of the fingers.

"Mine too!"  Labid holds up his hand, showing the others the space between his fingers, which is now filled below the knuckle with a flap of skin, almost like the flesh on a fish's fin.

OOC:  It is 1352 on the 1st of June.  Let me know how long you want to rest.  Obviously the witch did not come quietly.  The giant is also dead.  All the guards have fled.  Let me know how long you want to rest.

Items available:
hide armor (this won't fit anyone)
spiked medium shield
flail
chainmail (fits mayble Labid)
spear
ceremonial dagger in the shape of a serpent
potion
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:40, Wed 21 Sept 2022.

Finn stands victorious over the strange witch.  Teeth filed into animal like little hunting weapons and tattoos covering her, but those dressings pale in comparison to her odd speech and obsession with her cause.  The lean, athletic man gloats over her defeat and capture of the prisoner, a smug visage hanging on his face shouting its presence like a bright red cloak.  And then she speaks and the mage-thief is mesmerized.  Opened the vault?  Devotion to Skoulos?  Vassals to this monster forever more?  And give her life to raise it, again?  Has she given her life before?  Or has he been raised before?  All according to her twisted mind that is.  She's one crazy bitch, he muses in his internal monologue.

To his men the movements are so subtle, so much a part of normal behavior that he seriously doubts his men would notice.  But Razzel had.  She was weaving a spell.  He would question if she cared about her life but as she just mumbled through a mouth of her own blood, she is thrilled to gift it to her true master.  The Lich.  The plucky leader hisses and grunts a rough 'Nooo...” as he brings his sword down.   He separates her head from her body just as he promised but even with his quick stroke he knows he was too late.  Whatever she had done to further her quest, she won that battle.  Finn sighs disappointingly and helps his men gather the gear.  With the quick search completed and their loot grabbed an idea pops into Finns head.  Being the wise ass that he is the young adventurer is tempted to nudge the witch's severed head with his booted toe while muttering 'Why you killing yourself?' done in a kind of bullying big brother tone, several times over.  However, his men are already on the verge of thinking he is crazy and there is too much risk that they wouldn't see his humor poking through, and instead judge him to be certifiably insane.  So quietly he leads the men through the gatehouse.

Finn tosses his pack down then lays with his head on it using it as a pillow.  He crosses his hands over his chest and crosses his feet and settles into a rest, a necessary thing for a mage after a magical battle.  Before his men begin speaking, now that he's far away from prying ears he addresses the obvious.  ”Ya'll did a fine job.  I couldn'ah assed fer better.  I been in alot'ta fights.  I'm proud ta fight 'longside you men.  Ya keep it up an' yer gettin' bonuses.”

Now Omar turns his curiosity Finn's way asking how he kept up a flurry of attacks.  Finn grins slyly wondering if he was going to be asked about it.  He beams with pride being able to show off the results of his hard work and study over the years.  ”I'm like yer old master, an' his pupil.”  Finns frowns temporarily.  ” 'Cept I aint been turned by'a demon.  I can bend nature sometimes.  Make it do what I want.  You call it magic.  Ya know how a soldier follows orders?  I'm just givin' nature new orders to follow.”

Then the conversation turns.  Innocent at first as they wonder what the crazy old witch meant.  But a dark, fearful fog descends over them as Munt and then Labid reveal that they are changing!  Evolving, like butterflies.  Except that Finn does not think the end result will be something better and beautiful.  He shudders quietly as he thinks about what he's brought these men into.  They had good lives.  Perhaps mundane and poor being that they were dirt farmers, but their lives did not involve being magicked into something disgusting.  Slowly Razzel removes his own gloves and then boots, breathing a sigh of relief, and then feeling a bit guilty as he catches Munts and Labids eyes.  The ever optimistic mage-thief is quiet for a minute and its clear he is deep in soulful thought.  When he begins his tone is serious and present.  ”Anyone know what a Lich is?  His men stare back at him, if they have stories they aren't volunteering.  He nods expecting no less.  ”I aint no expert but I heard some tales.  Never knew anyone who saw one.  I always thought they was made up.  Ta scare off would'be grave robbers like me.  The problem with bein' a sorcerer is it takes a'fuck ton long time ta master yer craft.  An' then ya die, 'cause yer old.  As the stories go some nutty ol' coot figured out how ta come back from beyond the grave.  But his second self aint alive.  He's the walking dead.  The idea is when you can live forever there aint no limit to yer power.  An' 'ol bag-a-cats, she means ta have a seat at his table when he comes back.”  Finn sighs and takes a sip from his water bag to let the words sink in.  I really got'ta bring some rum on these getaways.  ”The whole reason we come here is cause a'what ya saw me do back there.”  He thumbs towards the gatehouse.  ”I want her spell book.  An' her masters books.  I want 'em all.  But...”, Razzel runs a hand through his slick hair, ”...now we got more reasons to be here.  We got'ta stop them from wakin' up ol' Dry Rot an', I'm guessin' that's a curse.  So we need to fix that 'fore we leave.”  The plucky leader points at the webbed hands.


OOC:
I am only interested in the dagger and potion.  I would suggest Labid claim the chain mail but if he prefers something lighter I wont micro manage him.  As I don't want wandering foes using this gear against us we will take it all to our resting spot and whatever my men don't want can be left behind.  When we are ready to leave this mountain is when we'll decide what to do with it.  If its not too late I would have liked to bring the witch's head with us.  If no one wants the flail someone is to tie the head to the flail and toss them into the lake.  Finn has a distrust of the unexpected and he doesn't want the witch making an appearance in the final act.

All the guards fled?  Like fled the keep?  Can I tell where they went?  Did we see them in the distance when we left?

The plan is to rest 1 hour to get me back to full FP and cast some healing on my men.  I will re-evaluate depending on how the spells go.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

As he and his men sit lounging in the grass by the lake Finn does his best to relax.  Calm is necessary to get his strength back but several things needle at him.  The witch's words and the webbing growing at his mens hands chief among them.  But Razzel resigns himself that it would seem their only way now is forward.  If the lich threat is real the world will suffer horrifically if it wakes.  And there must be some kind of cure for the affliction even if the only cure is snuffing out these vile cultists.

After a long time in the grass the plucky leader hops to his feet and breathes deeply while stretching his arms.  He lets out a long 'ahhhhhhh'.   He walks to Omar and knees down.  ”Now lets see about that.”  He flicks a chin at the mans wound as his voice drops low and emits strange long forgotten ancient words.  He places a hand on the wound for just a moment.

Finn repeats the ritual on Labid.  Upon the work being complete the mage-thief looks tired.  Not exhausted, just tired.  A clear difference from when he first stood.  He walks causally and takes his place where he had been relaxing on his pack.  He fishes out the vial he took from the priestess and twirls it in his fingers, wondering if its worth the risk.  If he had his equipment, and time, he could make a sound guess to the nature of the potion.  But the only requirement of a field test involves a tiny sip.  Quick and dirty as they say but highly dangerous as the test sometimes affects the user as if he drank the whole bottle.   A healing elixir?  Not so bad.  Deadly snake poison?  Very bad.


OOC:
Heal Omar and then Labid.  Then rest for 1 hour.

This message was last edited by the player at 16:14, Thu 22 Sept 2022.

Finn and the others move to rest for Finn (and the others) to regain their strength after the fight.  Finn takes only the potion and snake dagger, though he encourages Labid to take the woman's chain shirt, which the youth agrees to immediately.

Though as they rest, the conversation quickly turns to Malak al-Mawt, and what it is to become a Lich...    Munt frowns.

"When the mage, Malakai came to speak with my master long ago, they spoke of the old library... but Malakai also spoke of how Malak Al-Mawt had saved himself from death.  How he had cast his soul into a phylactery.  How he had joined the ranks of forever undying and forever unliving.  That he had remade himself as the Lich Skoulos..."

Munt sighs and shakes his head.

"Master had thought him a gullible fool.  He scoffed at the idea and had argued that had the great wizard cursed himself as such, he would not have been gone all these centuries...  Malak had let the matter drop.  I had thought perhaps master had talked him into reason, though perhaps he was only trying to let the issue settle so that he could gain whatever knowledge and sources my master held..."

Munt quiets into silence, holding up his hand and gazing at the stringy flesh now conjoining his fingers at the base.

"I don't know about all of that..."  Omar says in his somber but resolute voice.  "But if this witch has cast a curse upon Labid and Munt, then we must do what we can to make things right.  There's no doubt that this Malakai is the source... either he will fix it willingly... or he will succumb to my blade and fix it by force."

OOC:  It is 1455 on the 1st of June.  Potion and snake knife added to your inventory.  Labid took the chainmail as you recommended.

As for the guards, they ran to the edge of the lake and up the slope as if they were leaving the mountain.  You lost sight of them as they were lost in the wood at the edge of the crater.

You have successfully healed both Labid and Omar, who appear back up to full strength.

Please roll vs. HT.

As Finn lays with his men in the grass by the lake the cool mountain air nips at his skin but what he finds infinitely more annoying is the passage of time.  Finding the hidden trinkets of the world has always been one of his great loves as far back as he can remember and its the primary driver for him being here.  But now preventing the Lich from awakening and curing the curse that is afflicting two of his group and possibly all of them, that goal eats at him like a swarm of warrior ants.

Thankfully his irritation finds releif when Munt mentions a phylactery.  This yanks Razzel from his dwelling on how they're not killing cultists.  His head cocks to one side and his eyebrows scrunch.  ”You mean like a box?  Did ol' Al-Mawt put his self in some cookie jar?”

The happy-go-lucky leader twirls the new found bottle in his fingers for what seems like hours as he waits not so patiently for his strength to return.  He weighs the pros and cons of taking a sip.  They seem equally balanced and he is about to uncork the thing to sample it when Omar speaks up.  Finn nods appreciatively and pats the well made sword on his hip.  ”Aye.   Wer gonna fin' ol' Malakai.  He's gonna put it all right.   One way, er another.”


OOC:
Finn is asking if Munt meant Malakai put some piece of himself in a container, similar to Soul Jar.

If I am back to full fatigue we'll head back to the courtyard and do a quick search of the upstairs gatehouse section.  I assume they took most of their stuff but you never know.

This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Mon 26 Sept 2022.

When Finn asks Munt about Malak's soul and whatever spell or receptacle he might have used, the monstrous hunchback merely shakes his head.

"I admit, I did not understand exactly what they were talking about.  I am sure my master knew more of it than me.  What items could hold a soul?  And what fool would so eagerly be rid of what separates him from...?"

Munt's question trails off and he does not finish it.  Instead, he merely shakes his head again.

"I cannot claim to know what the phylactery is.  It could well be a box, or a jar, or a child's stuffed doll.  I cannot even be sure it is real, though I think that Malakai was convinced it was.  Certainly it seems that these extremists seek to bring the archmage back from death in one way or another."

Finn chews on the words as he continues to rest.  Though an hour later, he assesses that he is good to go.

On the way back to the courtyard, Finn ducks his head into the second floor of the gatehouse through one of the murder holes.  It appears the area has not been cleaned in some time and there is muck and filth creeping out from the corners.  Despite this however, he manages to find an old quiver, rotted through but still full of arrows that appear to have stood the test of time.  He takes one out and checks the edge, finding that the heads have been coated in silver.  In another corner of the room he finds another glass vial, full of a hearty red fluid which has seeped up almost entirely through the cork.

As he descends back down, Finn takes looks around the courtyard.  Labid too is taking a look around, though oddly, he is using his forearm to shade his eyes despite the heavy cloud cover overhead.

Noting Finn's watchful eye, Labid casually asks, "Seem like it's brightened up to anyone else out here?"

It has not, though Finn realizes as Labid lowers his arm that the boy's eyes seem to have grown nearly two or three times their normal size, bulging outward like some freakish cartoon of a man in shock.

OOC:  It is 1605 on the 1st of June.

In the upper floor of the gatehouse, you found 22 silver tipped arrows and another unknown potion.

I'm assuming your cookie jar comment is a result of you having googled the word phylactery (I had to google it too) or else trying to see the game mechanics behind the spell.  Finn may have heard ghost stories, but he's not really tuned into the magical community enough to have any idea about spells like soul jar or lich.  That being said, based on Munt's description, it sounds a lot like something close to soul jar.

It's funny that having the unlucky disadvantage, you seem to roll more crits (maybe going both ways) than any other player.  I actually required another HT roll from you, but rather than stop things for a result, I just rolled for you and crit succeeded.  You get your hero point back from the rerolled crit failure earlier.

Finn listens intently to Munt speak on the idea of Malak's soul.  A doll?  He had not considered the thing to be anything other than the mystical energy that hangs invisibly in the cosmos.  Or a proper box.  As in an actual box, because that's how he heard the creepy and strange tavern tale spun.  He would have to think on this as they traveled deeper into the complex.

Razzel's face lights up in the gatehouse when he finds not one but two treasures.  If these trinkets do not find use on this daring mission they will fetch a nice price after.  The plucky leader slides the mystery elixir into a worn dusty belt pouch, then he carefully divides the silver headed beauties in half and hands one set to his soldier.  Once the potion is out of sight he wonders if he should taste it, to glean its meaning.  Now he has two such enhancers to tempt him.  Like a drunken man insanely trying to bed some well known courtly Lady then being dragged back at the last instant he is reminded of the superior price of failure.  If even one of these mystery potions is a deadly venom he would never wake up.  But this harsh reality does little to calm his temptation.

Before long the men find themselves in the courtyard ready to advance on the caves when Labid says something about the sun.  It doesn't take Finn long to see why.  The boys eyes are...transforming.  The mage-thief grunts and his smile turns upside down.  He puts a hand on the youths shoulder.  ”No son.  It ain't bright out.  It's yer eyes.  They're a'changin'.  Inta what, I dunno.”  He wills himself to wipe away his grimace and replace it with his normal confident resolve.  He looks over the small group.  ”Looks like the devil's got hot heels an' he means ta run us down.  Time ain't our frien' no more.  Wur gonna fine that shit eatin' scum sucker 'fore we git too far gone.  An' he's gonna put us right.  Er else.”  Finn draws a lone finger across his neck from the left side to the right while making a sound similar to a knife scraping on stone.

Minutes later Finn and his men are standing near the center of the courtyard staring up into the open cave mouth.  It is taunting them.  Daring them to enter, at their own peril.  The confident adventurer looks down at his feet to see the blue mist near his toes breaking and dissipating into nothing.  He crosses his arms over his chest and rubs his fingers over his lower jaw as he thinks.  He doesn't really want to touch this blueish unknown vapor and he has assumed since spying it yesterday that it could not be good.  But not touching the mist means magic and after the second affliction to appear within hours Razzel is highly reluctant to dawdle any more than is necessary.  He cannot afford to magic his way past every problem.

Finn finishes what he calls his skull session, though usually it involves the opinions of others.  This one was solely in his own head.  He turns around and stretches out a hand.  ”Who's got rope?”, he asks simply.  When it is handed over he ties one around his waist.  Before anyone can object he goes on.  ”Ah-wunder if the blue lagoon's good fer ya.  I mean, they gotta go through it.  Maybe it keeps 'em from changin'.  If not, an' it knocks me out, drag me back.  An' pour this down ma throat.”



OOC:
Yup.  I had to Google a  phylactery.  And good.  That's the angle I was playing Finn.  He has heard a  story or two of the concept of a soul jar but has no idea how it works mechanically and never encountered any other mages or teachers who know the spell.

The dice roller hates me.  I never really had trouble until Rylock.  Admittedly he didn't have great skills but even skills of 13 proved unreliable.  One time I missed hitting a 13.  So I burned a Hero Point.  And in three more tries almost couldn't roll a 13 or less.  Ceredyn himself even said he's never seen the dice roller do so miserably for a player, even Beothatch.  That said the dice roller is much kinder to Finn.

I will take 11 silver tipped arrows and give the other 11 to Omar.   I will take the unknown potion.

Finns plan is pretty simple.  Tie some rope around my waist.  Omar will hold the other end.  I will jog up the hill and into the cave.  Move using Stealth once in the cave.  If the mist incapacitates me they are to drag me back out of the mist and we'll try Plan B.  If I am ok I will attempt to disable whatever is creating the mist.  Backpack is my hand so I can drop it or toss it if needed.  Other hand is empty.

Explain the healing potion in my belt pouch.  Make sure they understand which one is the healing potion since I have several.  I will also instruct them if the need is dire they can use it on anyone.

Finn splits up the loot from the gatehouse, giving half of the arrows to Omar, which fill his quiver to the brim, before taking the latter half for himself.  As for the potion, Finn tucks it away with his others within the small belt pouch.

The plan is quickly explained and Labid offers a rope with which Finn can execute it.  The treasure hunter ties the bit of chord about his waist before trudging up to the north side of the courtyard, where he looks up to the mouth of the cave above.

At the northern end of the courtyard, a crude, makeshift scaffold not unlike the ones along the walls rises to the maw of the cave above.  A sickly blue miasma seeps down from above, cascading off the scaffold and spilling down into the courtyard below.

Cautiously, Finn walks forwards into the blue mist, testing its properties with a hand.  He feels the colored fog roll off with a sticky wetness, leaving behind just a faint tingling.

Finn presses forward, stepping his whole body into the rolling blue mist, though for the moment at least, he feels no ill effects.  He looks up upon the scaffold, testing it with a hand.  This one appears to be sturdy, at least as far as Finn can tell.  After all, there doesn't appear to be any other way for the cultists to climb to get to the cave above.

OOC:  It is 1610 on the 1st of June.  No ill effects from the mist apart from some tinglies. Everyone else is still 10 yards or so behind you.  There is definitely not enough rope for you to climb the scaffolding without the other end entering the mist as well.

Finn stands before the scaffolding looking up, then down and behind him.  He sighs.  Something doesn't feel right about this.  The mist.  The cave entrance.  He is an odd fellow, Razzel is an eternal optimist but also he doesn't trust easily.  Perhaps he expects people to do as he would do, trap this place to the gills.  He places a hand on one of the beams, then a foot.  It feels solid enough.  But his mind wanders back to the mist.  Is it harmful?  Will it react violently with his men who are being mutated?

Finn stands there contemplating the hundreds of options before him for what seems like an hour.  Then something pulls him back with the seeming force of a slap to the face.  Right or wrong, he must move forward.  Their only hope is finding the leaders here and getting answers.  So he winds a hand around the rope and gives it a tug.


OOC:
If I only have about 10 yards of rope pull it back to me and wave the men forward.  Untie the rope from my waist and return it to the owner.  Watch the men for 2 full minutes to see if they have any bad reactions.  If no, then climb the scaffolding.  Go slow at the top in case they have sentries in the cave.  I will go alone.  I will wave them up if I give the all clear.  Omar is to wait with bow out in case of trouble until he climbs.  Order of climb:  same as marching order.

Knowing that this foul blue mist is unlikely to be benign, Finn is hesitant to introduce yet more risk to his men.  However, within a few moments he remembers that time is not on their side... that his hesitation may be causing a risk all on its own... that Labid and Munt may change all the more while Finn takes his time on decisions he does not have all the information to make...

In the end, Finn decides he does not have the time to wait for more information.  He waves his men forward and watches intently as their feet hit the blue mist which pools and dissipates at the base of the scaffolding.  The foul fumes swirl about their ankles in eddies of mist which seem to disappear amongst the shadows before being replaced by a fresh surge.

As Finn waits however, he notes no imminent harm.

Putting the next step of action into place, Finn puts the whole of his weight onto the scaffolding, ready to leap himself clear if the structure does not hold him.  Unlike the scaffolding around the walls however, this structure seems to hold firm, and Finn is quickly making his way up without issue.

Blue mist cascades over his hands and his face, forcing Finn to cock his head out and away from the wall to see his way upwards.  But even with the mist hitting him at every part of his body, Finn cannot tell of any harm the gas is doing.

The climb is short and before long, Finn pulls himself off the high scaffold and onto the rocky ledge above.  Ahead is a narrow cave, widening to a small natural cavern.  Even from here, Finn can see the censer, glowing with an eerie inner light.  The foul blue fumes seem to pour from the object, casting odd and shifting shadows along the walls, before they cascade away from the chamber.

But apart from the censer, the cave appears to be empty.

Finn motions for the others to come up, and one at a time, each of his men makes the easy climb until all three of them are standing on the ledge, looking into the cave beyond.

OOC:  It is 1620 on the 1st of June.

No issues climbing the scaffold or in getting to the cave.

Finn is a complicated man.  Adventurous, yes.  Free thinker, sure.  Tough, loyal, without a doubt.  Highly skilled in many crafts?   Please.  But he was also untrusting of most.  Being in the foothills of an ancient sunken stronghold of a mad magical warlord, trying to be revived by another mad magical tyrant wasn’t  helping his trust issues.

Standing at the top of the cave entrance looking at his men below who were now knee deep in the blue mist gave him even more worry.  He half expected something to happen.  Anything.  But the mist seemed to be benign.  He was the one who preferred doing the sneak attacks.  But he had not the time to stop and analyze the mist.  His men were cursed.  The milk was spilt.   And for all he knew he had been affected too but was changing more slowly.  Swallowing hard to fight back his apprehension he waves the men up and his tension eases slightly when they pass without incident.


OOC:
We will move through the cave at a walk.  Spend a few minutes investigating the source of the blue mist.  But I’m not sure I want to spend time trying to disable it since we’re already in it.  Look for passages deeper into the complex.  Both hands are empty.

Though Finn had suspected something sinister and swift to come of the blue mist, he finds that even with all five of them perched up at the entrance to the cave, and even with the blue fumes rollicking along at their feet, nothing yet inhibits their progress onward.  Still, Finn cannot shake the dark foreboding that something is quickly coming, that this mist is not here for decorative purposes...

Finn walks forward slowly, beckoning the others to stay for the moment as he walks slowly towards the censer at the center of the cave.

The small object is near the center of the cave, set up on a small pedestal and glowing with some horrid, inner blue light.  The thing pours the blue smoke from its insides, sending shadows and light dancing across the walls in swirling patterns.  Finn knows before he reaches it that the thing has some magic about it...

Finn does not give all of his attention to the censer however.  He glances around the rest of the cave, noting that on the near left wall, there is a gouge in the natural formation of the stone, revealing an opening that leads to a downward flight of stairs...  Rubble is scattered across the floor where the stairway begins.  At the back of the cave, he sees a backpack, nearly buried in the smoke that surrounds it...

OOC:  It is 1625 on the 1st of June.


The censer at the center of the cave
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:41, Mon 17 Oct 2022.

Finn stands over the small bowl looking thing and for the moment he is absolutely flummoxed.  He rubs his chin in deep thought.  This mist must have some purpose but what is it?  To enhance the denizens of this foul place?  Or poison intruders?  Or something else, like keep crocodiles away?  Try as he might Razzel cannot think of a way to test the qualities of this abomination, and he cannot decide whether to let it be or toss it out into the courtyard.  His intention upon seeing it yesterday while in bird form had been to give it a good heave once he got this far.  But his plans also included somehow getting here without touching the mist.  That point now seems moot since they have all been infected.

While he ponders what to do Finn waves the men forward.  Once Labid is close enough he leans in and says softly.  ”See 'bout that an' that.”, he adds by nodding his chin twice.

The leaders face twists as if a crab just bit his toe.  He tosses a quick finger towards the door and he lobs a question at his men lazily.  ”Whadd'ya think'a 'bout that.”



OOC:
Ask Labid to check the backpack and the door for traps.  I am also asking the men what they think about the rubble in front of the door.  I the player don't really care about their answers.  I dont expect the GM to give away any game changing ideas.  This is more for flavor cause its what Finn would do.  What I would like is for Labid to check the pack first and if he gives it the all clear I will search it while he checks the door.

Finn jerks his chin towards the doorway first, then the backpack, the only two objects that seems to stand out in the rather small cave.

Labid goes to the cave opening first, checking the walls, and the rubble about the floor for any sort of traps, though the effort appears to produce nothing.  The youth moves on with little more than a single thumb up as he moves on to the backpack.

Finn too, is drawn to the stairs, the only natural way on from this chamber.  Though Finn wouldn't describe himself as overly cautious, this room, the blue smoke, the doorway.  Everything scrapes at the deepest fibers of his being, screaming at him that something is off...  He checks the stone around the opening and sees gouges in the edges around the stone...  as if it has been freshly shaped and opened by picks and other stone-cutting tools.

"Look er all this!"  Labid says, his webbed fingers tearing open at the seams of the pack.  "Food, water, knives, a hatchet!  And there's a...""

But whatever else the pack contains, Finn does not hear, for Omar's own voice cuts the boy off mid-sentence.

"What in the!... Move Labid!"

Finn turns and watches as Labid turns his head in surprise and shock, looking up at Omar.  The youth does not realize, though Finn seems to slowly see as he watches, a blackened form which towers over Labid who still stoops at the backpack below...  It's the boy's shadow...  poised over him with a club, and swooping downwards with a brutal strike!  Though by some miracle, the small motion of Labid's head as he turns towards Omar makes the blow miss, missing Labid's skull by the narrowest of margins!

OOC:  It is 1627 on the 1st of June.  Consider yourself in combat.  Grid squares are 5 feet, so very close to 1 hex, though not quite the same.

A note that I've forgotten which tokens I used for various NPC's before.  I'm pretty sure I got Omar right (with the chain mail) though I have no clue about Labid nor Bashar.  For reference, Labid is the one at the NE corner of the cave (with the shadow behind him) and Bashar is the one next to you, looking at the doorway.

Roll vs. Perception, and if you succeed PM your results before posting please.



This message was last edited by the GM at 23:43, Mon 17 Oct 2022.

Finn stands atop the stairwell looking down into the dark earth.  The air is cold and musty but the rank sensations do not bother him.  If his mind had room to dwell upon it he would be surprised that it doesn’t smell of days old sweat and death.  In his minds eye he tries to conjure wishful images of the treasures that must lie below.  Magical rings, amulets and great glowing battle axes that burst into flames upon the command word in some long forgotten tongue.  And the books.  Whole packs full of tomes filled with ancient secrets of magical knowledge lost to time and a sunken city.  But the present is stronger and pulls his attention to this room that troubles him.  What is the purpose of the censer, the odd lights and the blue mist he still wonders.

And then out of nowhere he seems to get an answer.  There is a shout that yanks on Finns attention and whips his neck about as if a giant had tossed him like a doll.  Razzells eyes go wide as dinner plates and he curses to himself under his breath. ”Lookout!  There's more.  In the stairs. Move!”


OOC:
Move to the censer and kick over the pedestal, as I move to emphasize my words point at the shadows yet unseen.  It is my hope that if the light changes the shadow creatures will loose some power.  Then move to the backpack and grab it.  Then head into the stairwell.

If any of the men get caught in combat or need help they become the priority and ignore the above.

Finn charges across the room, barking orders for everyone to flee to the stairs.  With a swift strike of his knee, he knocks over the pedestal which holds the censer, sending the small dish flying to the ground, where it sinks into the blue mist with a sharp crack!.

Instantly, Finn sees his shadow climb up to the ceiling in front of him... along with the other...

Wait...

His mind turning into overdrive even midstep as he runs, Finn looks right to Omar... to Labid... Left to Munt.  Finn is the only one who even has a shadow to speak of...

Until he looks a little closer at the forms that are attacking...

The one which had snuck up on Labid is shorter and holds some sort of club...  The one behind Omar holds a shield, and has a linked shirt which sways heavily as it moves.  The one behind Munt is massive and hunchbacked...

"Arm yourself!"  Omar shouts as his own sword leaps to his hand in an instant, slashing out in a cutting strike at the shadow that had attacked Labid.  The sword connects, sending the foe into a half-spin as it staggers to the side.

Labid takes advantage of the momentary reprieve to get back to his feet, the backpack still clutched in his left hand.

"Behind you!"  Munt shouts, perhaps to everyone, though Omar is the one that turns around to find himself face to face with his own foe.

"I'm going!"  Bashar calls, rushing in the opposite direction of Finn, towards the stairs...  Though Finn wonders if his direction hadn't been a little hasty.

For as Finn turns, he now sees the way blocked by three of the shadows, Munt reaching out to grapple his own, though the thing dodges nimbly, striking back with an empty fist which connects against Munt's flesh with a meaty thwack!.

The last of the shadows, staff in hand, Finn watches as it follows Bashar through the doorway...

OOC:  You managed to run across the room, kick the censer (pedistal anyway) and get to where Labid is, though you aren't sure that running from here is the best idea.  All of the shadows now seem full formed, and are blocking your way out, though of course you can attempt to evade them to follow Bashar into the stairwell.  All of the shadows appear to be equipped mimicking your party members, and their own shadows seem to have disappeared, except for yours oddly enough.

Please post 3 rounds of combat.

The meager light of the censer spills over the small cave, highlighting the three shadows now that stalk Finn's crew.  Though Finn only has a moment to size up the situation, he is struck by the stout form of the hunchback shadow that squares up to Munt... the lithe and short bit of darkness that hangs over Labid, and the shielded foe which attacks Omar, its body draped with a swaying chain shirt...  It is almost as if the three men square up against shadow versions of themselves...

As Omar strikes the shadow Labid however, it becomes quickly clear that these shadow things are not invulnerable, and Finn immediately makes to throw the odds even more in their favor!

"I cannot see down here! OOOOOWWWW!"

Bashar's voice echoes upwards from the stairs, punctuated by a sturdy thwack!

Finn lashes out twice with his sword, slicing the shadow ahead of him, and though his sword bites into the dark form, it does not seem to give like normal flesh.  Instead, the blows are resisted at the surface as if stopped by armor, then slowed as they cut as if trying to slice through tar.

Off to his right, Finn barely recognizes the two huge forms of the real Munt and the shadow one, grappled in a tangle of limbs as they fall to the floor!

Beyond, Finn watches as Bashar's terrified form rushes back out of the stairs, his staff held like an aegis in both hands as he turns, facing the stairway as his own shadow form rushes out to meet him!

Finn grunts with effort as he slashes twice more at the shadow Labid, this time cutting deep into the darkened form which shudders in pain as it dissipates into a vaporous shroud of smoke!

But the enemies too, are having their success.  Omar groans in pain as Finn watches the blackened sword dig into the mail at Omar's shoulder...  Finn expects a torrent of blood, but somehow, the sword instead comes away clean, the mail around the wound still completely whole and unblemished...

With a few words and a jerk of his chin, Finn dictates for Labid to help Munt, who has now struggled to his feet, his arms wrapped in a bear hug against his adversary.  Finn meanwhile, moves to Omar's side, cutting his weapon in a wide swipe which clangs loudly as it rebounds from the rim of the shadow shield.

With a roar, Omar's foe cuts his weapon inward and up, completely taking Omar by surprise!  The weapon smashes into the chain links at his side, causing him to spin back, losing his balance as he tumbles akimbo onto his back!

The shadow roars with silent glee as it holds its weapon high overhead brining it down with exaggerated force!

Only at the last moment does Omar manage to get his shield into place, taking the blow off its face as he pushes himself back up to his knees.  The shadow swings again, and this time Omar cannot deflect the blow!  The sword smashes again into chain links, causing Omar to shout in agony, though again as the weapon is pulled away, there is no visible damage at the wound!

But in his zealousness, the shadow has turned his back to Finn, who attacks himself with reckless abandon.  His sword slashes high and low, over and over, smashing shadow chain links as it bites over and over into the thing's magical flesh!

Just as Omar staggers himself back to his feet, sword in hand, Finn manages a final blow, obliterating the foe into a cloud of shadow dust which scatters and falls to the cave floor amidst the blue mist...

Finn swings his head, noticing the last two foes still stand, though Munt is locked in a bitter wrestling match and Bashar too seems to be getting the better of his other, whose staff is now discarded as it fights empty handed.

Finn rushes to Bashar's rescue, but even before he makes it there, his guide swings his staff with a shout, smashing it into the nether being's shoulder and causing the thing to burst into shadow dust.

Finn turns around wildly again, stepping up to last and largest of the shadows.  Munt still grips the other wildly, smashing his foot down across the shadows shins over and over while the foe struggles to break Munt's grip.  But now the other three converge on the last foe, Finn and Omar slashing, and Labid striking with frenzied blows!

The shadow Munt heaves with one last, enormous effort, just as Munt is lifting his foot to strike again.  This time, Munt is not able to keep his grip, and instead loses his balance all together as he strikes out blindly with his foot one last time.  It looks for a moment like the shadow beast could last forever, though at the last a brutal strike to the shoulder by Labid finally sends the shadow back to the nether.

The fight lasted a mere ten seconds, though each and every one of Finn's men seem exhausted by the bout, and Omar sags immediately to the cave floor.

"What in the hells were those?"  He shrugs off his shield and holds an arm up to feel at his collarbone where he was struck by his own doppelganger's sword.  "It doesn't even hurt all that much anymore, but it was so draining!  I feel like I've been running for hours!"

"Me too."  Labid gasps, setting himself down on the cave floor as well, his chest just rising above the mist, which seems to have thinned substantially through the fight.  "I've never seen anything like that before... what was it Finn?"

Finn thinks for a moment that he too, had never seen magic quite like that...  He had never been attacked by a shadow, never before taken physical damage, which only caused for his energy to ebb away...  or had he?

Finn shakes his head at the memory, the blackbird diving at him in the night, tearing at his tiger form and causing him to flee from crater all together...  It hadn't really hurt him... just caused him to flag even more than he already was...  But was that the same?  He had been a tiger when he was attacked, could it have been his shadow in another form?

The form he had taken in the cave.  Finn thinks to himself...  He had been attacked by a shadow of his falcon form...  Perhaps that was why his shadow had not come to life against him now...

Finn ponders their situation for a moment.  While he is loathe to wait here, and chance yet another attack by shadow monsters, he also knows that exploring farther at their current state likely chances even more danger.  Eventually, he calls for everyone to rest where they are.

An hour and a half later, the men are rested, Finn has cast two light spells on small rocks which lay around the room, and Munt has scavenged some materials to fashion them into rudimentary necklaces.  Labid has rooted through the backpack too, which contains various small items, including various packets of dried rations, a half-emptied wine skin, two small daggers that are coated in silver, a hatchet, a leather pouch which boasts two gold dinar and a few dozen or so in dirham and halala, not to mention a pair of small, red stones.  There is also a small folded note, which Labid reads aloud.

"The appointed hour draws nigh, when the undying one will bend to my will, and the mysteries of the unknown world will at last be revealed.  We will not invoke his name for fear of drawing his wrath, or worse, the enmity of his age-old foes.  Therefore, as in days of yore, he will remain unnamed."

"The curse, long have I heard it whispered amongst the mountain folk here, but now I see that it is much more than their foul breeding practices.  It is borne by the spire that imprisons him, and by those that are foolish enough to invoke his name.  But the curse also brings power at obscene cost, and when was it ever not so?  Those that will rule must always rise from the earth."

"The phylactery is mine now.  It is a simple thing of dried clay and mud, easily overlooked and forgotten.  To think, herein lies the power of destruction, of mastery over the one."

"Spider eggs and maggots, beneath my skin it smells of rot, but to my senses it is the smell of triumph.  The time for ascension is upon me, when all will be right in the heavens and I will remake the world according to my will."

"He calls... and I must answer."

"This guy is a fucking loon."  Labid looks up from the paper, his curse-enlarged eyes looking towards Finn's.  "I mean, why even go to the trouble of writing this?  It's like he can't help write a tribute to himself before he goes to try and wake up some old bag of sorcery bones...  I'm assuming he's talking about your old wizard, right?  The undead leech?  I guess we aren't supposed to say his name now?"

"Speaking of curse."  Omar mutters, raising his hand for the rest to see.  His fingers now too have fleshy webbing between them.  It only takes Finn a moment to glance at himself to realize that he too has suffered the first effects of Skoulos's curse.

"It seems I am the only one who has thrown off this curse!"  Bashar exclaims with some surprise, throwing up his own, still pristine fingers for all to see.  "I shall see all of you through this!"

OOC:  It is 1800 on the 1st of June.  Lot of stuff here, including 10 rounds of combat and 90 minutes of rest.  Most of which was covered through a player/GM phone call.  It is possible that I have missed many things through the combat and ensuing action, so feel free to ask questions.  The following is the contents of the backpack:

21 rations
half-empty wineskin
Two silvered daggers
a hatchet
$212 in coin
Two small red stones
Small folded note

You have also made two light stones with the brightness of a torch and turned them into necklaces.  Just let me know who you want to give them to.

Finn reclines in the small cave room, his back supported by the relative softness of his pack and the censer under his feet as he lounges.  He has time to kill after the short skirmish.  He is not as exhausted as his men were from the fight, no his drain came from weaving costly magic.  As Bashar so expertly discovered this place lacks in certain necessities like ample light the mage-thief decided to rectify that situation.

Razzel holds the note in his hand pondering the words as his men, who have now completed their rejuvenation, work on fashioning leather necklaces to hold the light stones he has crafted.  He looks over the writing again and smiles.  As Omar questions the grin Finn easily retorts as he raises the parchment aloft, “Sounds mur lik'a love letter then jus' makin' notes.”

The ever optimist replays the days events in his mind.  Yesterday when he was attacked by the black bird that sucked the energy from him he had guessed it was a familiar, a magical animal pet of the reigning wizard here or perhaps its second.  But after this minor battle the connection is more clear.  There is something about this room, maybe the censer, that summons a doppelganger for each intruder.  Finn exhales a sigh in gratitude that the magic only works once for it freed Razzel to roam the battlefield unencumbered.

He has spent well over an hour in rest, thought and debate.  It is almost time to move on.  He looks again at the webbing infecting his fingers and thinks this is just the beginning.  Stage one as the plague doctors call it.  How many stages are there and what deformities await them he wonders silently.  He holds up the letter.  ”Yuuuup.  We knows two thangs.  One.”  Finn holds up a lone finger on his unused hand.  ”The fill-act-a-thingie, the...vessel, its a simple lookin' clay pot.  I'd bet all a'yer money...”, Finn looks about the room and grins widely hoping that his jest is obvious.  ”...that we destroy the clay pot an’ we destroy the magic holdin' 'im tagether.  An' two.”  Finn now holds up a pair of fingers.  ”The price 'a power comes after his looks.  He got bugs an' shit in his skin.  An' he smeeeeells.  Maybe we get lucky an' we can smell ‘Im 'fore he hears us comin.”

The plucky adventurer had wanted to rest until his body cried for rest no more but something pulls at him.  It wasn't just the worry that they were racing against time.  If they dawdled too long perhaps the curse would render them unable to finish their task.  But it was something else.  Greed.  His old enemy who wore the mask of a friend.  His old unseen tempter whispered in his ear worries of missing out on the treasure that lay beneath his feet.  Ripe for the taking.  Unless he wait too long and miss his chance.  So hopping to his feet and shouldering his pack Finn waves the men to follow him into the stairwell.


OOC:
Since I have rations I will hand the rations out amongst the men where its needed most.  I will take the coin and gems and small note.  Examine the wineskin.  Whats in it?  The hatchet is up for grabs.  I recommend that Omar takes a silver knife.  I the player feel the silver weapons are module foreshadowing.  I will take the other one.

I will take one light necklace and Munt should have the other since he seems to be in the rear in marching order.

Head down the stairs.  Stealth mode.  Anything that looks like it could be trapped stop to have Labid search for traps.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:50, Thu 27 Oct 2022.

Finn looks at the wineskin, uncorking the bladder and smelling at the opening.  He's no connoisseur, but a single whiff is enough to tell him it is actually wine.  Something with a slightly off putting mixture of sour and sweetness, like a sherry, or simply a thin port that's gone stale.

Finn passes out the weapons, with Omar accepting the small dagger and Bashar quickly volunteering to take the hatchet.  It is when Finn is handing the newly fashioned necklace to Munt that he notices that he too, has acquired the oversized eyes that have affected Labid...  Though on Munt's countenance, stitched together like a woven leather ball... the effect hardly makes much of a difference.

Before long, the group is ready to move, despite the fact that Finn is not quite back to his full form after casting his spells.  Still, they must move, and the stairs seem the only reasonable way to go.

Finn leads the way, though he hasn't gone more than a few dozen yards down into the mountain when he finds the first obstacle in their path... or rather the lack of a path is the obstacle...  that and a large bed of spikes.

The stairs have stopped, shallowing out into a flat path that is perhaps six feet wide.  However, that path stops abruptly, leaving a gaping hole in the ground nine feet across before the path starts again on the other side.  The edges of the pit are far too thin to walk across, less even than an inch at the base of the wall.  And as Finn shines his light over the edge, he sees neat rows of long-bodied spikes which line the bottom, stained brown with blood and age, not to mention two humanoid skeletons which lay mostly intact and undisturbed between the spikes that line the bottom.

"Um..."  Labid leans forward, putting himself just a little bit closer to Finn.  "That's a trap...  Not much of a good one though.  Wonder if our crazy friend caved in a false floor when he came by?"

OOC:  It is 1805 on the 1st of June.  The pit is about 6 feet wide, 9 feet long, and easily 20 feet deep, with slick-looking sides that would make it difficult to climb out.   The silver knife is added to your character sheet (with the money and gems added at the end in case of a later split), with the rest of the stuff being taken by the group (you have the note too, but I didn't think it was worth another line on your sheet).  Let me know if you want the wineskin.


Picture for effect

Back in the blue fog cave room Finn had guessed that many more obstacles laid in his path but he had no way of knowing the first would block his journey so soon.  He stands over looking the spiked pit.  Several things cross his busy mind including what belongings these people had when they fell victim to this foul trap.  Surely their gear had been pilfered long ago and a sense of faint loss whirls around within him but he pushes past it to consider how to navigate the dangerous hole.

Razzel sighs heavily as he folds his arms across his chest and rubs his chin thoughtfully with a hand.  ”This's gonna cost us...”, he groans to no one.


OOC:
No thanks.  I'll pass on the wineskin.

Plan A.  Get a hammer and a heavy iron spike.  Cast Levitate on myself.  Float across the pit.  Hammer the spike into the ceiling on the far side of the pit.  Attach the groups rope to the spike.  Bring the rope back to the beginning side of the pit.  Each person in turn will tie the rope around their waist and swing across.  I will be on the other side to grab them and keep them from swinging back to the middle.  Rinse and repeat until we're all across.  Renew the spell one time if necessary, then just stay on the new side.

Plan B, if we lack the proper materials for the above.  I cast Levitate at a higher enough weight limit that I can carry everyone across one at a time.  The base spell should be enough to get everyone over without renewing the spell.

After we get everyone over rest to get back to the fatigue I am at before casting.

This message was last edited by the player at 14:44, Tue 01 Nov 2022.

A plan coming together in his mind, Finn first asks if any of his group had the thought to bring spikes, a rope, or otherwise some other climbing gear they could use to swing themselves across.  Omar again seems outfitted for just such a purpose, pulling out climbing gear, complete with pitons and hooks, a hammer and rope which will accomplish the task better than anything Finn could have thought of himself.

Casting levitation on himself (and cursing, and recasting the spell again), Finn grabs the hammer and the piton, hovering himself across the small gap.  It takes him several moments, but eventually he finds a crack large enough in the rock at the ceiling, and begins to hammer the piton in.

As the shink!  shink!  shink! of the iron blade sliding into the stone resounds in the cave around him, Finn can just barely hear Munt from the other side.

"Why don't we just make a running jump of it?"

Though Finn has not used climbing gear before, preferring his own, natural equipment, the ideas are fairly straight forward and it does not take him long to get the piton secure.  He raps it a few times on each side with the hammer to test that it doesn't move before hovering back across to the other side, grabbing the hook and the rope and tying them off at the point.

"I'll take it first."  Labid says excitedly, grabbing the rope with both hands.  "No sense in sending our heaviest over first right?"

Finn is not even back to the other side to grab his own equipment when Labid is already swinging across, not even having tied himself off per Finn's instructions.

"Yeeeeeeaaaaaah!"  Labid squeals as he grips high on the rope and slides off the edge, his body quickly gaining speed as he swings across.  Finn struggles to get himself out of the way, his movements dulled by the spell which keeps him moving at a level float a few inches above the ground, though Labid seems fine for lack of support and both of his feet alight on the other side as he lands in a crouch with his hands held out wide for balance.

At least, he seems fine for a moment.

KKKKKKKKKKKbah!

All in a moment, the ground beneath Labid begins to grind and fall, as twin doors begin to open up underneath his feet.  Labid grabs for the rope, but it is already falling back behind him and out of reach!  Labid cartwheels his hands as he begins to fall, down, down into a darkened pit underneath his feet!

OOC:  48 of 60 seconds of your levitation spell have passed, leaving you with another 12.  You cast the spell at strength 3, which holds 240 lbs (enough for you to float without carrying a whole lot of extra burden).  Your backpack is currently still resting on the other side of the spike pit.

The other pit (the one which just opened up underneath Labid) covers the next 9 feet beyond the first pit.  The doors which opened up cover most of the width of the corridor, leaving only a few inches on each side.  There doesn't appear to be any spikes at the bottom of this one, though it's hard to tell what is there as it isn't your prime focus at the moment and you've had less than a second to look.

If you wish to catch Labid, roll vs. DX, otherwise you can do anything you can think of.

Finn is happy as a pig in shit as he works to make a rope swing over the spiked pit trap.  His easy smile and relaxed stance are nothing new but Razzel feels particularly joyful in this moment.  So far everything seems to be going their way.  The crazy cult vixen is dead along with her bodyguard and the pair failed to land any lasting injuries to the freedom fighters.  The plucky dungeon delvers even managed to score some nice loot.  As the expedition organizer Finn pounds on the thick climbing spike listening to it echo down the chamber but he cares not.  If his foes are in earshot let them come and get this over with he thinks.

And what came next reminds Razzel of the time he owed a loan shark several hundred gold and time was running out.  After hearing a hot tip on a horse the ever optimistic youth decided to wager what he had which would allow him to pay his debt in full and have a handsome sum left over.  He can still see it unfolding in his minds eye like it was yesterday.  His horse, Uncle Tyrisus, was in the lead by two heads.  But the jockey to the rear was a drunk and began tossing up his late lunch, which caused his horse to pitch violently to the side, right into the back legs of 'ol Uncle Tyrisus.  In the blink of an eye Finn watched his winnings turn into dust.

The mage-thief doesn't know what lies below he just knows he has to try something.  He reaches out a flailing hand that opens and closes like a crab claw.

With lightening reflexes, Finn whips out his arm and grips onto Labid as the youth cartwheels his arms!  Though he struggles to pull the man up, the weight is simply too much for his spell to hold, and Finn feels himself slowly dragged downward by the weight.  In slow motion, the two fall together into the mouth of the pit, Finn pulling upwards for all he is worth to soften the blow.

Slowly, the pit comes into sharp review as Finn's lighted stone begins to reflect off the walls, all of which bevel inwards towards a narrow bottom, which itself is sloped steeply downward towards a dark and narrow opening at the bottom.

"Shit!"  Labid gasps as his foot touches the bottom, immediately slipping before regaining his traction.  "It's slick down here!"

But that isn't all.  For just as Finn clears the open mouth of the pit trap, the heavy false floors swing back up with a grinding bahkkkkkkkkkt! shutting them off from their compatriots above!

"LABID!"  Omar shouts from outside, his voice muffled and obscured by the stone blocking it.  "Finn!  Are you all right?"

OOC:  That was another 10 seconds.  You managed to keep Labid from any injury, though the combined weight pulled you down into the pit trap with Labid, which subsequently closed up behind you.  The good news is, there isn't any boiling acid at the bottom, but instead a sort of chute which promises to send you somewhere else.  The bad news is, no guarantee there isn't boiling acid at the end (though it would seem rather inefficient :D).  You have 2 more seconds of levitation.  Labid seems to be able to hold himself upright while using your levitating form to balance.  There is no flat bottom, but the whole ground is deeply sloped towards the chute opening.  Him holding on prevents you from going up at all however.  Please note whether you want to continue the spell or let it expire.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:15, Mon 07 Nov 2022.

As he has done so many times in his life Finn reacts without thinking.  His hand latches out like a snake, at first Razzel is horrified when he only feels air.  But at the last possible moment the two mens hands close around each other.  Instantly it happens as he expected for while he is no master of magic he understands how the spell works.  Finn has willed the mana to flow around him and lift him like an invisible giant eagle carrying him, but there just is not enough mana to lift two men.  And so they drift downwards into the pit.  He pulls and clenches muscles hoping against hope that this one time he could lift them both up and out but his efforts are in vain.

And then a loud bang above causes his neck to snap up and the plucky leader sees the unexpected, and slight fear creeps over him like a dark cloak.  But instantly his mind calms and he thinks to himself, One war at'ta time...

Mages have a sixth sense about the flow of mana and Finn knows his time is running out.  He has but a few precious seconds before his magic will fade leaving both men victims to this awful trap.  But is it awful?  For them, right now, yes.  If Labid were to fall he would slide down some kind of tunnel to where?  To what?  A cave to be food for some hungry monster?  A gladiatorial ring where prisoners are forced to fight another for the sick enjoyment of their captors?  No.  Likely a prison where he would await his turn to come under the sacrificial knife.  Finn cannot let this happen.  However another side of him admires the genius behind this trap.  To put a fake pit that interlopers will jump over only to succumb to the real pit is inspired.  For a moment he is saddened with jealousy.

With all his might the happy go lucky adventurer pulls the boy up and commands, ”Hang on ta me kid an' do as I say.”


OOC:
Tell Labid to hold onto me so I have one free hand for casting.  Renew my Levitation spell on me.  Cast Levitation on Labid.  Once we have that we both fly up and inspect the trap doors to see if they can be opened from our side.  If so, open them and float back to the group.  If not, see plan B in PM.

Knowing that he has little strength remaining after his spells and even less time, Finn bids Labid to hang on as she shifts his grip, freeing a hand with which to cast.

But even that subtle motion reveals potentially disastrous consequences...

Shifting his own weight slightly, Labid finds that the sloped floor is far slicker than he had realized, and his foot slips, ruining all of his balances as his legs skid helplessly towards the gaping maw at the bottom of the trap.  His hands clasp desperately at Finn, though the sudden movement spoils his grip and for a horrid moment, Finn thinks that the boy is lost!  But acting with uncanny reflexes, Finn snatches out a hand, grabbing Labid at the wrist at the last possible moment!

Slowly, the two begin to slide down the oiled surface of the floor, Labid trying desperately to regain his feet, though completely unable, Finn trying with all his might to both keep them from sliding into the abyss while flickering his other fingers in wild movements to cast another spell of levitation on the boy.

When Finn's first attempt fails, he finds it's simply impossible to regain his concentration as his body is pulled in slow motion towards the edge of the room!  Over and over, Finn cannot clear his mind, his thoughts invaded by the repercussions of failure!

"Levitate!"  Finn screams for the fourth time, and finally, he feels the pull at his hands cease, just as Labids feet had disappeared into the pitch black chute.

The effort has exhausted Finn, though luckily, he only needs his concentration... and a little help from the outside to get them out of here.

"Someone set off the trap!"  Finn shouts, though his voice comes out throaty and weaker than he had meant it...  "And don't fucking fall in!"

Slowly, Finn and Labid begin to float upwards on the force of Finn's two separate spells.  The moments drag on as sweat pours down Finn's face, though eventually, Finn hears a soft thud on the ceiling above before the grating sound of the trap...  KKKKKKKKKKKbah!

Above, Munt hangs like a monkey upon the rope, one hand high, the other lazily falling by his side as his two legs wrap around the remaining length.  Munt looks more in his element than Finn has ever seen him...  His posture seems almost erect hanging there as he is.

Finn has no time to think on how to get Munt back across, but it makes little difference, for as Finn and Labid climb out of the pit and float back across the first pit, Munt simply lowers himself to the floor, wrapping his toes around the edge of the spike pit, before launching himself across like a diver, landing on all fours just across the other side.

"Gods!"  Labid curses as his spell ends and he touches down on the ground.  "You saved my life Finn!  Nothing like a near fall to your doom to really get the blood flowing!"

"Don't joke about your own death."  Omar grunts with annoyance in his voice.  "We thought you were both gone!"

Though they have made it out of the scrape, Finn doesn't feel very far from gone...  His body is wracked with the efforts of spell casting.  His heart thrums in double time and his chest heaves his breaths to catch up...  He feels as if he can barely move... and all that for having rested almost all of the past 90 minutes...

"Maybe we should send someone ahead to scout."  Omar offers in a perturbed voice as it becomes apparent that Finn is in no condition to move ahead.

OOC:  Ok, the planned worked mostly as you wanted, though Labid missed a DX roll to stay upright (luckily you succeeded yours to grab him) and you failed several will rolls in a row in order to cast.  You are back down to 1 FP and both of your levitation spells have expired without renewal.  You are all now on the blue mist cave side of the pit trap.

Finn lay on his back breathing in and out slowly.  He is aware of conversations and movements around him but his mind processes these events slowly and roughly.  He knows he is missing the finer detail.

Standing over him the youth spits out, “You saved my life Finn!”.  The plucky leader has a monologue he wants to deliver in response surrounding five or six points but the idea of that much talking drains what little strength he has left and all that comes out is, ”I know.”

He feels the weakness in his limbs almost as pain.  Every movement seems to hurt.  Not the kind of pain that comes from a cut but more a dull ache.  The only thing that brings relief is not to move.  Yes, staying still feels as comforting as being wrapped in a blanket by a fire.  Rarely is he this exhausted, he knows it will be some time before he is ready to move.

This would be a good time to review the trap and his solution, and perhaps the love letter he has pocketed.  But, his mind is too tired.  It wants rest too.  And then as if his men understand his predicament one of them offers, "Maybe we should send someone ahead to scout."  Yes!  Finn thinks to himself.  One of you should wander off and see what lies beyond this cursed trap.  An' while ya do, I'll just stay here an' close mah eyes.

Finn mutters a soft, ”Ya.  Go.  But...be careful.”  The words come slower than he meant and Razzel had intended to lift an arm and point into the distance but his limb stubbornly ignores him.


OOC:
Sounds good.  Finn needs rest and will do nothing else for at least 90 minutes but preferably he wants 2 hours.  During the later stages he'll be more alert and can talk if needed.  Finn would suggest Munt go since he seems best suited with his high ST and apparently former training as an Olympic athlete.

Completely spent, Finn simply lays against the wall like a puddle of goo, allowing Munt to go on ahead to scout.

Again, Finn is somewhat shocked by Munt's display of skill and grace as the hunchbacked mutant leaps across the first pit from a stand, grabbing onto the rope to keep himself from falling into the second trap, then leaping across the second after he triggers the device with a tentative foot dangling down from the rope above.

Munt slowly drifts out of sight as he walks along the path ahead, the haloed reflection of his light stone on the walls disappearing only a few moments afterword.

Munt is gone for perhaps a half an hour before the orange glow returns, followed by Munt's disfigured form.  He is somewhat more ginger as he crosses this time, finding the trap with his hands which reach out in front of him.  Again the pit opens with a grinding kkkkkkkkkkbah! and Munt again leaps across, grabbing the rope for stability as he plants his toes on the narrow gap between the two traps.  Again he leaps, this time clearing the last pit by over a foot and a half before he crouches down to place his chest upon his knees, his head nearly now at the level of Finn.

"Well."  Munt starts in his soothing baritone.  "There's nothing that way.  Path ends only a little ways up."

"What?"  Labid can't help himself from exclaiming in shock.  "Why the hell were you gone so long then?"

Munt shrugs.  "Finn had to rest, so I knew I had time.  I thought I would look around and see if there was some other way.  Something secret.  I didn't find anything though."

"So you mean..."  Omar starts, his voice colored with high dudgeon.  "That the only way on is down that pit slide?  Or is this cave even the right way we are supposed to go?"

OOC:  It is 1935 on the 1st of June.

I fast forwarded 90 minutes since that was the less of the two times you gave me.  Feel free to add more time to rest in your OOC comments in the next post.  If you do opt to rest longer, give me a HT roll please.

Finn is no stranger to resting and lounging.  Normally being a mercenary is full of arduous work.  Long marches and intense battles often carrying twenty to a hundred pounds of gear are often the norm so sell swords can frequently be seen sitting and catching their breath.  But Razzel is unique in that most of his exhaustion comes from the strain of bending reality to his will.  To change the laws of nature, such as making a man float through the air, is as strenuous as carrying a dead body across a battlefield.  So the mage-thief relaxes as Munt explores.

Razzel normally would let his mind wander during this time of the traps that likely lay ahead, forward looking strategies he should be mulling over, and the treasures that lay waiting for him to pluck them.  But instead during this time he is thinking about Munt.  During his time at Perdition Finn was often frustrated over the discord between he and his friends.  Many times he felt at odds and it saddened him.  It left him longing for traveling companions who could follow him on his fool errands but without the infighting that seemed to plague him at the ancient prison.  The plucky leader watches in near awe as Munt traverses the rope and pits like a monkey, hopping, swinging and jumping as if he were born to do it.  It also doesn't hurt that the mans arms are barrels and his thighs are like tree trunks.  This isn't the first time a nagging voice in his mind has been coaxing him to ask Munt to continue on with him after they finish here.  And now, that voice is turning from a whisper into a something like a conversation.

Finn eagerly listens to the report, hungry to find out where the path goes next and his face falls when he hears the news of nowhere.  He sighs and rubs his chin thoughtfully.  ”I wanna go.  But I aint done cookin' yet.  So why doan ya'll poke 'round the blue mist room.  If you see any signs 'a shadows hightail it outta there.  If its clear, an' I 'spect it will be, looky see if ya can find a hidden door.”

He pauses for a moment to look at the expecting faces of his men to see if they understand where he's going.  ”Those naked fucks, the drum beaters, they had ta come from somewhere's.  And I sure as hell bet they didn't climb up a greasy chute.”


OOC:
Rest another 30 minutes.  During that time ask all the men to travel back to the censor room where we fought the shadows.  I am guessing since I only had one the shadows are one and done and my men shouldnt have any hostiles.  If I am wrong have them retreat into the stairwell and call for me to come help.

If they meet no resistance search the room for secret doors for the bulk of the 30 minutes.  If they find nothing looks like Door #3 (greasy chute) is our path forward.

How much rope does the group have?  I am now thinking we combine all our ropes and they lower me down.  If the rope doesnt let me touch bottom I can go as far as I can by rope and Levitate my way down.

Is there any scaffolding that could make a bridge across the spiked pit?  Any boards long enough to make a walkable span so they can just walk across?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:01, Mon 14 Nov 2022.

Still not feeling at the top of his game, Finn bids the others to go back and search the room with the blue mist as he continues to rest.  Omar nods shortly before turning and walking the others back up the stairs.

"Make sure you bring the light!"  Omar adds to Munt over his shoulder, and the other takes a last look at Finn before making his way up the stairs with the others.

Alone with his thoughts, Finn's mind dwells on the otherworldly Munt.  Though his features are horrifying at first sight, his skin patched and stitched together as a quilt and his features asymmetric as if drawn on by a child, Finn cannot help but say that he has grown attached to the soft-spoken hunchback.  Apart from being dead useful, Munt has shown that he has a steel trap mind, and Finn has been astounded by the things he has repeated from Haj-Umr's lips, things that Finn is certain that the old necromancer could never have imagined that Munt would have remembered or even understood at the time...

...Though Finn would have to remind himself that he could never show his new friend in polite company...

"What are we even looking for?"  Finn hears Labid's voice reverberate to him from up the stairs after several minutes have past.

"Could be anything..."  Finn hears Omar answer.  "A catch or clasp, some sort of pull hidden within the stone...  or possibly there's nothing at all...  Just look for anything.  Use those big old eyes of yours."

"Dick."  Labid answers.

"We should look for hollow spots in the wall!"  Bashar's overexcited voice followed by the high pitched rapping of the man's staff over and over in rapid succession.  "We will be able to hear where there is a door when the sound changes!  Because solid stone sounds different than air!"

The rapping continues, over and over the high pitched thwack! sounds in Finn's ears.  Though the distance no doubt has dulled the sound, Finn nevertheless cannot help but wonder if the man is going to break his staff in his overzealous attempts at searching.

"Maybe...."  Omar's voice is cut with the clench-teeth sound of annoyance.  "You should try a little farther apart than every inch?  I don't think you're going to need to find a doorway that's the size of a pinhole..."

"You said yourself it could be anything!"  Bashar answers right away and with exuberance.  "We should not leave to chance missing something just because it is small!"

Thwack!  Thwack!  Thwack!

Finn bites back some annoyance of his own.  He wishes he had learned Judoc's method of clearing his mind and resting through meditation...  The templar student had seemed to regain his fatigue much faster using the method... and perhaps it would have allowed him to empty his mind of the trivial annoyances.

"Hey, what's this?"  Labid's voice reaches Finn after several more minutes.  "Is this something like you were talking...?"  But the question remains unfinished, for it is overshadowed by a dull grinding sound of stone raking against stone.

"Hey!  That's it!"

Unable to keep to himself sitting any longer, Finn works himself to his feet and walks himself back up towards the room with the blue mist.

As soon as he steps out, it's clear that Labid has found their way on, for a whole section of the wall has pulled away and out of the room, exposing an exit at the back of the cave which leads on to a large square shaft circled with stairs that lead ever downward...

But Finn also notices Munt, who leans his hunchbacked form against the wall of the cave, the lighted stone hanging from his neck highlighting his pale skin which now boasts dark and heavy spots.  His face, normally stretched thin at the seams now appears mottled and worn like it is bearing some heavy and painful fungus...

OOC:  It is 2005 on the 1st of June.

30 more minutes of rest for you.  I think your questions in OOC are moot, but just in case you are still thinking them through - you can definitely plunder from the scaffolding outside around the cave entrance.  If you desire to do so, roll vs. scrounging.  The effort will take an hour (of disassembling the scaffolding) before you have all of your stuff together to try and make an impromptu bridge.

Note that once you have all the stuff together, you would still need to take the time and make a skill roll to build a bridge over the pit (Carpentry or Engineering are both possibilities).

Unfortunately, Omar was the only one to bring rope (about 10 yards), and that rope is still hanging from the ceiling over the pit.

In his younger days Finn hated times like this. His spell weaving drained him like nothing else and he sat on his ass while the rest of his team did the heavy lifting.  Sometimes literally.  It irked him, sitting around.  True it was a necessary thing, and in the grand scheme his magic had saved Labid from whatever lay at the bottom of the greasy chute.  So he had done some pretty heavy lifting in his own way.  Still it gave the young man ants in the pants to hear what his men were up to and not be able to partake.

His mind continues to mull over the interesting bits dangling just out of reach, and frustratingly so.  There is the usual treasures and magical texts surely in the catacombs and hidden chambers below.  But his focus seems stuck on imagining dragging Munt all over creation with him on new adventures especially now that hes seen a new side to the beast of a man.

Finally it is over.  And painful this one was.  For not only is the time boring and seems to take five times longer than it actually does, but Razzel knows time is against them.  It is like Death.  An invisible foe who stalks in the shadows waiting to send them to a dirt nap at the most inopportune time.  He stands, gathers his gear and heads back up the stairwell to see his mens handiwork.  He smiles and pats them on the back encouragingly when he sees the secret door revealed.  Not long after it formed his smile fades as he catches Munts features and posture in the flickering light.  Finn puts a hand on the mans shoulder gingerly.  This man who bravely dove in after the mage-thief to save him from a nest of crocs.  ”You ok?  I cun mend cuts an' scrapes.  Bruises an' bumps.  Some deep cuts act'chally.  Sorry mah friend.  This's beyond me.  But we'll fine a cure. Dont worry.”


OOC:
Yes, now that we found a way forward the scaffolding question is moot.

Follow the new stairwell down.  Marching order as before.  Stealth mode.  Watch for traps.


This message was last edited by the player at 17:25, Wed 16 Nov 2022.

As Finn asks Munt if he is ok, the other lifts himself back up, forces a wan smile and offers only, "I don't feel well.   But no worries, this will be short lived no doubt."

Accepting that there is little more to be done, Finn pushes on ahead, leading the way into the stairwell with Labid, who keeps his eyes wary for trips and traps.

Finn holds his light aloft, showing some relief on the square shaft and the stairs that spiral downwards.  It is not overly large... perhaps a twenty foot square with the stairs not quite wide enough to comfortably go two across.  At each corner, the stairs flatten out to a small, five foot landing before turning left and continuing down with a further descending flight.

The inside of the shaft is entirely open, and below...  thirty feet?  forty?  Finn can see that the shaft ends with a carved stone bottom, a nasty fall if any of them were to slip or be pushed from the steps.

But such does not happen.  Once the five wind their way around the outside of the shaft once, passing four of the small landings as they go, they step down onto the bottom and see that the way ahead is open.

There is another small room ahead, not much bigger than the shaft that the five just descended and far shorter.  Finn thinks that even he might have to crouch to though the space.  Finn can see that on the far wall there are two doors, tinged green with age, and some sort of of decoration set upon each of their faces...

OOC:  The ceiling in the room ahead is very low, at only about 4 feet.  There are two doors that you can see in the distance that seem to have some sort of circular mark set about their center, but you aren't really close enough to see it yet.

Finn silently curses himself a fool for not thinking of it.  And his men, are they dim or being courteous by not pointing it out to him now.  The cultists, they had to come some easy way to get out into the courtyard.  Surely they weren't going to jump over a spiked pit.  He should have given the matter a bit more thought before blindly throwing himself forward.  By trying to save time he has lost much of the precious thing, and Munt is suffering for it.

And what is happening to the poor man?  No doubt it is some kind of disease.  The curse the mad witch hinted at before she offed herself.  But what is it?  Is he slowly dying?  Is he becoming a rotting corpse before their very eyes?  Didn't she say something about being reborn, revived from death? Razzel shudders for a moment as he tries to shake off the disgusting images rolling around in his head.

He is almost glad for the distraction when they come upon the low ceilinged room.  He eyes the pair of doors with their strange symbols.  He grunts angrily.  ”I'll go.  I doan trust it.  If it goes sideways, git me out.”


OOC:
Walk into the room and move cautiously to the door to inspect each one.  Do not touch them unless all seems safe.  Leave my pack behind and bow behind so I am at None encumbrance.

Untrusting of the room with the exceptionally low ceiling, Finn drops his backpack and crouches down, leading the way himself while the other stay behind.

Slowly, painstakingly, Finn moves his way forward, keeping his eyes peeled and his ears open for traps or triggers that could be anywhere.  The low ceiling of the narrow chamber looms above and Finn places a hand above him as a constant reminder of how low he much crouch.  The air here is thick with dust, though Finn eventually makes it all the way across to the two small portals.

Both of the bronze doorways are tinged dark green with age, each with a single keyhole set in their center, though they each boast different features on their fronts.  To the left, the doorway is boasts the depiction of a howling monkey... though the face is unnatural, carved far gaunter and meaner than any of the pictures Finn has seen before.  The thing too has horns, and its teeth and mouth are stained as if painted before the metal slowly corroded with age.  The right portal depicts an even stranger amalgam...  The face is long like a man's, though its skin is scaled like a snake, and set in the middle is the sharp pointed beak of a hawk.  The thing's eyes are set narrowly, and gleam with small red gems which are deep-set in the metal.

Above the doors, set upon the low ceiling is another fixture of bronze, this one with Arabic letters that Finn must crouch and angle his necklace to read...  Though undoubtedly, once he can find the right glint across the pressing to make it legible, Finn can make out familiar lettering...

S K O U L O S

Finn turns back, touching nothing.  He sees his four men crouching down in the room behind to track his progress.  Though as he shifts the light, Finn notes a small yellow glint from high up on the right wall of the room...

OOC:  Over to your judgement if everything seems safe.

As Finn crouches and half crab walks through the strange room the dust clouds his vision and fills his lungs.  It is more of an irritant but it is there nonetheless and he finds himself longing for the fresh air of the crocodile lake and the gatehouse assassins.  This tomb has not let him down.  He had days to ponder what sickness he would find in a sunken ancient keep of the mad wizard and so far he has not been disappointed.  A trap within a trap and dead end, and now this.  Razzel finds himself staring at the two faces looking back at him.  A rage monkey with horns, and a snake man with the beak of a hawk.  A quick search of his memory for references reveal nothing.  He does note however that his gaze lingers a little too long on the red gem eyes as the wheels of his mind spin at how to steal them, and knowing this place it likely triggers the door to shut and the ceiling to lower thereby crushing all would be thieves.

Finn turns to head back to his men and report when his keen eye catches the yellow shine of something high on the wall.  Probably another jewel he thinks to himself as he begins crab walking.  And then his mind wanders and he begins comparing this old ruins with that of Perdition.  The old prison had the cells and underground tunnels.  This place has is double pit trap and greasy chute.  Who comes up with this stuff?  Is there a college where they teach engineers to design the lairs of mad tyrants?  Finn chuckles quietly to himself but then he realizes there might be such a thing.  He should ask Judoc if he ever runs into the man again.

Passing by the yellow colored object Finn returns to his men.  He lets out a soft groan as his lips curl involuntarily.  ”It'sa monkey, with horns.  And a snake-man, an' its got a beak.  Like a hawk beak.  Munt, any 'a this ring a bell?”


OOC:
Make a side trip to see what the yellow light on the wall is.  Then return to the men to see if any of this sounds familiar from the work of their former master.  Also tell them of the plate over the heads reading “Skoulos”.


Regardless of their information invite the men into the room.  Have Labid inspect the doors for traps and to see if he thinks they can be opened.

Heading back to his men, Finn stops along the way to investigate the small glittering in the wall.  In a shallow recess near the top of the wall, he finds a pair of keys, each of them hung on a small hook to keep them in place.  Finn notes they seem exactly the same, apart from a small stone set into each, the left one a small green gem... perhaps a tourmaline or an emerald, the right one a red one.  Finn leaves the keys for a moment, heading back to his men to explain.

Munt slowly shakes his head when Finn asks if the two visages shaped upon the door are familiar.  "Master might have known, though he didn't speak of them.  He was nearly as infatuated with demonic beings as the old Malak Al-Mawt, it was one of the things that had drawn him to this place... and to Perdition."

It is Labid though, that seems to be the only one as bothered as Finn is about the room.  "Odd isn't it?"  He scratches his chin, his overgrown eyes blinking back his look of confusion.  "Seems like these crazies can't make up their mind.  First they say Skulous, then they say they'll never say Skulous... then they write it all over their stupid walls."  He shakes his head, moving forward with the others to investigate the room.  All of them have to crouch uncomfortably, Omar is the tallest and has difficulty with the process, though it is Munt who seems the most uncomfortable.  Despite his normal, hunched over posture, it seems he has little room in his normal gate to get any lower to the ground, forcing him to lean to the side in a particularly unbalanced sort of way.

It takes Labid only a few moments to deduce that the keys themselves are not trapped, for the hooks are fixed into the wall and do not seem to be set with any levers or pulls.  He lifts the two small trinkets, pocketing them as he goes over to investigate the doors.

He too, seems to be attracted to the hawk-like visage first, whether for the red gems set in its face or for some other reason.  Labid goes about his investigations here more slowly, looking at the edges of the portal, the caricature displayed on its face, and finally the keyhole that sits at its center.

"I mean...  I'd guess that the keys go to the doors."  Labid says slowly, trying to make out anything within the dark and narrow keyhole.  "I don't see any latches in there, but it's sooo dusty.  Munt, will you hold the light a little closer?"

Labid blows at the opening, hoping to do away with some of the residue, but the subtle movement of air sets many more things in motion.

Behind them, Finn watches as wall of stone falls from the ceiling, separating his whole group from the stairwell behind them.  At near the same moment, Finn hears above them the dull, loud, grinding of stone... what he had feared from the moment he had stepped into this claustrophobic chamber.  Finn can feel the ceiling above dropping slowly, pushing down upon him.

"Shit!"  Labid reaches into his pocket, pulling out the two keys.  "Which one do we pick?"

OOC:  In searching for traps, Labid managed to trigger it.  You are now fully closed off in the short room, with the only noticeable exits being the two doors.  Labid has the two keys and It's assumed you got your backpack since you invited the others into the room with you.

Stopping here to give you the choice.  The doors are not far apart and the ceiling is not dropping down quickly, though it is clearly dropping down.

For the span of about a minute, which felt more like an hour, Finn wondered silently how  he was going to open the doors.  Certainly they wouldn't be unlocked, and they looked too heavy to be forced open or broken apart.  Inwardly Razzel cringed at his chances against these heavy doors which obviously were the focus of much attention.  So of course he breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted a pair of keys.

As the jovial leader walks back to the men and relates what he sees he turns the keys over in his mind.  One has a small red gem.  Does the red key correspond to the red gems in the snake faced man door?  Or is this another ruse, meant to fool intruders and lead them down a false path where only the true believers who dwell here know the real matching of key and door?  Finn would match red with red.  Not because he's a simpleton but because people like him would expect the ruse and pick the opposite of what's obvious.  However, the tyrant here is a mage, he isn't a dullard.  Knowing that people like Finn would pick the opposite of obvious because he is anticipating his foes move, would Malakai switch the keys to make a green-red combination work?   And then his mind devolves into a circular logical storm that distracts and confuses any higher thinking.  He is grateful that none is required at the moment as he scoops up his pack and bow and watches his men mill about the room.

Thankfully he doesn't have long to suffer in the torture of which death door to choose as a crashing noise spins his head.  He chuckles out loud as the cunning mage-thief begins walking towards the doors.  After the double pit trap this outcome was almost certain, it would be comforting if it weren't so deadly.  He knows the time for analysis has past.  Whatever choice is to be made the time is now for if a fight lies head the men cannot win lying on their bellies.

Finn holds out a hand, a gleaming key in his finger tips.  ”Be read-ah fer en-ah-thin.”


OOC:
Pack is over my shoulder.  Bow is in left hand.  Put the red gem key into the door with the man-snake face, the door with the red gems.

Without even a moment of hesitation Finn grabs the key from Labid, thrusting it into the keyhole and turning.  He grins as the hawk-nosed-snake-faced bronze portal opens inward, though he does not let up his guard.  He expects some other trap to spring at any moment, though despite his care no other dangers seem to come.

Which is probably all for the better, for while Finn manages to make it through the doorway at a crouch, Omar, Labid, and Bashar are forced to exit at a crawl, and Munt is so pressed for space as the ceiling collapses down that the others are forced to pull his significant frame through the doorway by his arms.

But all five make it through, and none the worse for the slow-moving trap.

Finn bids the others forward, for they are now in a narrow corridor with only one way leading on.  The hall does not go far, perhaps only forty feet before it terminates into a yawning black gulf.  Climbing up from the cave floor far below are a series of slender stone columns, flat on the tops which peak out just at the level of the ledge...  as if they are meant to be hopped across one at a time...  The far side of the chasm is just barely visible at the edge of Finn's light and there appears to be another ledge, another path at the far end.

OOC:  The stalagmites (which are flat at their tops and large enough to put two feet on) are spaced between 5 and 7 feet apart each and seem to form a sort of path across the pit.  The pit itself is about 40 feet across, with a total of 7 jumps if you want to go by way of the stalagmites.


Picture for effect

Finn crawls through the narrow space as fast as his limbs will move.  The heavy dust chokes his lungs and burns at his eyes but due to the do or die crisis in front of him somehow he barely notices the ill effects.  Hurriedly he turns to help pull through those behind him.  Just as he had envisioned before the trap was sprung the five men barely have enough time to extract themselves from the death room but it is enough.  He stands, brushes rubble and dust from his gear and armor and pats Munt on the shoulder.   The eternal optimist is calm and confident.

It doesn't take long before Razzel's progress is halted by another obstacle.  He stops at the edge of the great cavern and peers down into the pit below, darkness and strange shadows are all that stare back.  His analyzing gaze scans the room as his mind works to take in what lies ahead, but more importantly, what might lie ahead.

Finn pans a hand across his field of vision from left to right as he explains.  ”I doan like it.  They wants us ta cross.  Ta jump like little frowgs hoppin' from one lillypad ta the next.  Wur so cute.  Hoppin' in the sun...til'a snake darts out an' gobbles u'sup in mid jump.  No'sir.  I aint fallin' fer it.”


OOC:
What Finn is saying is that he believes this trap has many layers.  You jump from platform to platform and if you fall you could break something like gear or limbs.  But he thinks there are hidden things that will come out to further challenge travelers such as arrows or spears, or swinging rocks anchored in the ceiling.

Drop pack.  Cast Levitate on myself.  Float down and forward on the right side of the platforms so that my head is just below the top of the platforms.  Float across the chasm keeping an eye out for monsters, traps, treasure, not necessarily in that order.  If I reach the other side float up to the landing and scout without going into the next area.  Scout in stealth mode.

Untrusting of the whole situation, Finn lowers his bag to the ground and casts his Levitation spell again, thinking to avoid the one path presented to him.

Feeling himself rise ever so slightly from the ground, Finn pushes off the ledge, raising his light so that he can see as best as he can around him.

A few things stand out to Finn the moment he lurches forward from the cliff.  Firstly, it seems this chasm is not nearly so deep as he had expected.  Though the light he casts from the stone around his neck is not exceedingly bright, he can still see the floor below now that he has a direct view to the ground...  He would estimate it at perhaps a 30 foot drop.  Though that is still nothing to sneeze at, at least the possibility of falling is not met with an instant and untimely death...

The floor below too, seems worthy of note.  It appears mostly level and likely wet, for in places Finn's stone reflects back perfectly like a mirror and in others the floor appears entirely black as if no light reflects there at all.

Unfortunately, in all Finn's noticings, he does not seem to hear the thin, mechanical clunk that emanates from the ceiling, nor the slow building whoosh of a blade cutting through air...

"Look out!"  Labid shouts, bringing round Finn's attention to the trap as it blazes towards him at stunning speed.  Finn flails his body out of the way, clearing himself from its path just in time, for the long and curved blade snags at the barest of margins of the tight fitting leathers at his shoulder, tearing open a wide gash that miraculously does not do Finn any harm.

Finn pauses for a moment, his heart throbbing like war drums in his chest.  Now he can see clearly the gash in the floor far below from the passing of the blade (it goes all the way floor to ceiling!?) and the matching slot above where the blade seemed to swing from...  Desperately, Finn searches around him for more of the matching markings of other traps...

OOC:  I think I failed every roll I made for you on that interaction.  Failed perception roll to notice the trap and then a failed dodge when the trap sprung on you.  I also failed your levitation cast... until I realize that you had already rolled the dice for yourself and succeeded.  I used a hero point on your dodge roll, so you ended up succeeding the second time around.

The "gash" on the ground from the passing blade is short, the blade looks like it only gets close to the ground for a few feet of the travel, and the chasm appears to be much wider than it is across.  So if there are more iterations of the trap, it is possible to go around them using the cavern floor below.  The "slot" on the ceiling is much wider.  It appears to go almost as far as you can see in both directions.  If you had to guess, the blade is hidden in the ceiling with a fulcrum in the center of the path.  When the trap is triggered, the enormously long blade swings a downward arc across the chasm and then back up, reentering the ceiling on the other side.

No worries if you don't understand what I'm describing, I'm just trying to make clear that you can't just fly under the step-bridge and go straight across but you can go all the way to the floor and then walk/hover around where you expect the blades would swing.

Your levitation spell is active and has 55 seconds left.

Roll vs. Perception-2.

Finn appraises the cavern as his mind races with the possibilities of deadly traps.  Arrows and bolts zinging at him from the sides and above.  Giant boulders released from the ceiling that come swinging down silently until the groaning of ropes or chains gives them away.  Crocodiles or starving undead that lie about in the pits below patiently waiting for their next meal are some of the horrible images dancing around in his head.  Before long he knows he mustn't delay any longer.  He and his men are getting sicker by the minute from this damned disease.

With one last scan of the room Razzel weaves his magic then steps off the stony edge catching his breath for a moment.  He looks all around him, seeing nothing.  He is most suspicious of the darkness below for he expects something or some creature to come at his feet grabbing with claws, or tentacles or who knows what.  And that is why he never sees the danger from above.

As if the Gods themselves dropped an enormous butchers knife from the heavens something appears and threatens to cut him in half!  Finn flinches and lurches without really knowing how but manages to avoid loosing a limb.  Or all of them.  And as fast as it came the thing swings back into the ceiling with a whoosh and is gone.

Finns progress pauses for a moment as his mind freezes in near panic.  He knew something was out here to harry would-be interlopers but an axe the size of the room?  He is both afraid and jealous of the designers skill and imagination at the same time.

The mage-thief spins without moving his feet and briefly he must appear as a ghost floating about.  He drifts back to the ledge from whence he came.  ”I'm ok.  Just need ta drop som'a the heavy stuff.”


OOC:
Float back to the group.  Drop my bow.  Cast Haste.  Try this again.  Same plan as before but head down towards the floor where you said it might be easier to dodge the giant blades.  I want to get a sense of what traps we're dealing with and where they are.  Once I have a map in my head and can see what we're dealing with I can form a plan.

This message was last edited by the player at 14:11, Wed 26 Apr 2023.

Having narrowly escaped with his life from the swinging blade, Finn hurries himself back to the ledge before the trap can reset itself, dropping his bow and casting another spell to enable himself with a quicker response.

Though his casting succeeds, Finn quickly finds that his head is spinning from the magical exertion, and rather than increased reflexes, his body is barely able to put one foot in front of the other.  Thinking quickly, he pulls out a small potion from his belt pouch and brings it to his lips, sucking down the contents in a single gulp.

True to form, the healing potion rejuvenates him, ebbing away at the weakness that tugs on his frame... at least enough that he trusts himself again to descend down into the pit...

Finn dives, as much as jumps downwards, trying to avoid the swinging blade should it come again, but this time the contraption does not trigger and Finn finds his way to the chasm floor uninterrupted.

Down here, the gash in the floor seems much more apparent from the side, the shadows claiming a long stretch of straight line where the blade nearly connects with the earth.  Finn avoids the area, instead hovering alongside the stalagmites on their right side.

Finn is almost upon it before he spots a second gash, though thankfully he stops himself just prior to hovering past the mark.  He takes a moment to recompose himself, searching again around the room, though he does not see any further evidence of traps here down below...

OOC:  It is 2010 on the 1st of June.

Map below to try and help with your mental image.  The rest of your men are on the SW path.  The "bridge" of stalagmites is not depicted, but there are a total of five of them that generally make a path across the ravine (total of 7 jumps).  The first groove in the floor is between the ledge of the path and the first stalagmite (1st jump), the second groove in the floor is between the 2nd and 3rd stalagmite (3rd Jump).  You are currently just beside the second gash on the southern side.

You have 2 spells active.  Levitation 31/60 remaining, Haste 40/60 remaining.  Character sheet edited as you requested.  Your healing potion partially recovered your fatigue and took you back out of half move/dodge/ST.


This message was last updated by the GM at 14:05, Fri 02 Dec 2022.

Finn touches down on the ledge on the southern platform, back to the beginning, and he tosses down his bow gently.  His fingers wiggle and his tongue spurts forth a short yet unintelligible string of ancient words only a wizard would understand.  Color drains from his face as he soon realizes his folly, the spell which is meant to protect him has been so costly that its helpful effects are moot.  Razzel raises an arm and finds its response slow and sluggish.

His right hand fishes in a belt pouch for a small vial.  He finds it almost instantly because it has a special rank among his distinct advantages and therefore is always in an easy to snatch location.  This blueish watery looking elixir is called Chiron among certain magicians.  For someone like him it serves a dual purpose, it can magically repair small cuts and abrasions or for a magic user it can heal the drain of spell casting.  He gulps it down greedily and feels his strength return.  A smile dances across his face as he launches himself back out into the cavern, down and down he goes.

The plucky leader lowers himself to the floor passing by the first blade trap which does not trigger, and he floats onward.  During this waiting his mind wanders as it usually does.  Finn almost giggles as he speculates at how these men would fair against this nasty death trap without a mage to aid them.  How many would jump only to fall when they try to maintain their balance when a giant butchers knife comes flying at them from above?  Probably all but Munt.  And then his mind conjures more imagined scenarios where he and Munt travel from city to city taking on and conquering job after job.  His mind revels in this fantasy until once again the sour taste of reality sets in, how many city folk would accept Munt and not run away screaming in terror?  But, he has to remind himself, Magnus traveled broadly and while he spoke of discrimination and ill treatment he hadn't yet been hanged by a mob or pitchforked in the dead of night.  So maybe there was hope for a traveling Munt yet.

Next his imagination conjures thoughts of the designers of this labyrinth.  Had they anticipated people like Finn?  Would they design pits and traps with a spell caster in mind?  Could they?

But his thinking is interrupted when he reaches the next gash in the floor.  How many more of these killing machines are left he wonders.



OOC:
So its about 8 pm?  I looked back over the thread and looks like we woke up at around 8 am.  Since we're fighting a curse I'm more willing than normal to push bedtime.

I get the map.  I have gone not quite half way across and encountered two traps that are similar.  The plan is continue scouting using Levitate and looking for traps that would harry anyone crossing.  The goal is to get fully across before Lev ends, but if it cant be done reasonably don't push it.  I will just renew that spell.  Ie, don't take high risks just to not renew Lev.  However, it would be super if I made it far enough that I'm almost out of the pit by the time Haste ends since I cannot renew it.

Finn continues, hovering just above the surface of the cave and far enough away from the edges of the gash marks that he will be able to avoid any other cutting blades.  He does not trust the ground enough to walk, knowing that whatever insidious mage that designed these horrors was sure to put in more obstacles below.  It is not long traveling at his full speed before he makes it to the last of the stalagmites, and the path out of the deathtrap above.  He hovers upwards, getting a better view of the exit before he approaches it head on.

Clunk!

This time, Finn is ready for it.  On a hair's edge for any sign of another falling blade, Finn twists his magically enhanced body, and he is well within the hallway before the blade falls, cutting the air between the last of the stepping stalagmites and the hallway beyond.

Again, the blade arcs upwards, disappearing entirely into the cave ceiling...

Finn breathes a sigh of relief as he lowers himself to the ground.  He paces a few steps forward, looking at the narrow corridor ahead which bends around a shallow left turn before continuing on for some dozen yards and turning again out of view.

"So..."  Omar calls from the other edge of the chasm.  "Any words of wisdom, or do we just go for it?"  He glances upwards uneasily towards the roof of the cave above.

OOC:  One more blade trap detected and dodged between the last (5th) stalagmite and the other edge of the chasm.

You went at max speed towards the end of the chasm and then up to ensure you had enough Levitate/Haste time left to get across.  You still have both spells active, though Levitate expires in 10 seconds and Haste in 19.

You guys actually woke up around 0700, so you are on hour 13.  I think you start losing fatigue for lack of sleep at hour 16, so around 2300 (though I need to double check).

Gingerly does Finn touch down on the far side of the blade trap cavern.  He is weary for he is alone, and while still heightened by his magical enhancements his strength is waning.  He expects some hidden force of cultists to come running at him from around the corner just out of sight.  Razzel is coming to the conclusion slowly that whoever designed this place thinks similarly to himself.  Traps are layered within layers.  Just when one thinks they have overcome an obstacle another unseen wave comes crashing in.  But, no pack of wolves come when he reaches the safety of the far side.

The eternal optimist catches the question lobbed at him easily for his quick mind was already wrestling with the issue before his foot found solid ground.  What to do with his men?  If they jumped across it would save time, that is if everyone managed to hit the mark of the rock tops and skillfully dodged the swinging blades.  But what are those odds that each man will make it all the way without falling, or worse, loosing a limb?  Poor Bashar is no trained adventurer.  He's more of a scholar type.  Former farmer turned messenger for Haj-Umr .  He'd likely be pig food before he saw the third jump.  How would he feel if the man got cut in half and Finn didn't stop it before it had a chance to happen?  And naturally this is all juxtaposed against the curse.  Using magic once again to fix this trap will cost them.  What kind of slow degeneration awaits them if they pause another two hours?  Will their fingers turn black and fall off?  How can men fight the cult leader and his minions without hands?

The plucky leader chuckles to himself.  His slow flight is just simple magic, but to the ignorant he might seem one of divine purpose.  An angel from one of the Gods perhaps.  Could he be that lucky if the cultists caught him floating about?  Nope, he giggles to himself.  As he touches down on solid ground and nothing erupts from the tunnel to hack him into crocodile food Finn knows his answer.  Immediately he lifts off, turns and begins the trip back while holding up a hand to his men.


OOC:
Hold up a hand as if to say wait.  I don't want to be screaming across the cavern in case there is someone nearby.

Float back to my men.  I saw myself floating on the right side.  Take the left side back.  Same plan as before.  Stay low to give myself extra time to dodge the traps.  I am taking the left side in case there are traps I didn't discover.

If needed renew Levitate.  Do not renew Haste.

When I get back to my men explain that once again I need rest, sadly.   I would advise they can cross by jumping, if and only if they individually feel confident that they make it knowing what lies ahead.  If they don't think they can make it they can wait and I will magic them across when I am done resting.  If the men do go across who goes first should take a light source.  Let them know that I plan to rest almost 2 hours, so if they go now they will be separated from the rest for a long period.  Currently I am thinking I will float across using Levitate when I am rested so that I can carry packs.  Dodging and jumping isn't so easy when you're carrying an extra 30+ lbs of gear.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:41, Mon 05 Dec 2022.

Though Finn longs for his men to join him, there is simply too much risk for them to come nor, or even for Finn to stay where he is.  There is no telling when a whole band of cultists will come around to check on the sound of all the blades whirring about.  Holding up a hand to keep Omar from coming across, Finn dodges out of the small alcove, avoiding the last blade as it swipes down to meet him again before lowering down to cross on the other side of the stalagmites.

Though he looks for more traps, Finn does not find any more of the blades, nor the thin channels on the floor that are evidence of their passing.  Though in truth, Finn does not stray close enough to the center of the path to get a good look.  However, Finn does see more evidence of the blades' passing, for at the bottom of the chasm on this side splayed out upon the rock, there is an aged skeleton, clad only in rusted and torn chain link as if his other clothes and armors had long since decomposed...

OOC:  It is 2011 on the 1st of June (yes, 8PM, sorry I missed that question earlier).

You succeeded your dodge to get past the first blade trap and your haste spell has since faded away.  You also renewed your levitation spell and have most of its time remaining.  If there's anything else you want to examine/look for on this side of the chasm let me know, otherwise just go ahead and let me know when you want to rest to (assuming you don't get ripped to shreds by the last blade trap).

Note that even using levitation and going around the bridge, you can't really avoid the first and last blades, as they are close to flush with the opening of the corridors.

Probably also best for you to make a HT roll.

Ever the optimist Finn drifts forward easily side floating the first giant blade but then his magical speed enhancer fades.  Magic is a wonderful thing.  It can be life saving but it comes at a great cost to all save the elite in skill and raw talent.  While Razzel has dedicated himself to practice and was born with an impressive amount of aptitude he isn't one of the greats.  Perhaps if he had gone to school like Judoc his spells would pack a bigger punch.  An interesting notion.


OOC:
Based on your descriptions I don't think there is anything worth investigating here.  Sounds like a pit where some have fallen and died.  My plan was to float down about 5 feet off the ground because by the sounds of it its easier to dodge the blades when you're lower cause they come out of the ceiling.  If I see anything that could be something (secret door, treasure, vorpal sword +20 against cult leaders) stop and investigate.  Otherwise just head back.

Probably also best for you to make a HT roll.

Seeing nothing of value here at the floor of the canyon apart from debris from the traps, Finn flies upwards, besting the swinging blade one more time before he collapses again in need of rest.

"Again!?"  Omar bemoans, shaking slightly before he crosses his arms and sits down again against the wall.  "Shall we die of this wretched curse then before we even find this Malachi and the phylactery?"

But his arguments are no use, and he eventually falls into an uneasy silence to relax and eat some supper with the rest of them.

Wanting to do something with his time, and curious to know what his two potions do, Finn pulls the pair from his bag and studies them to the best of his ability.  An amateur potion make himself, Finn had seen many different potions in his alchemy book before the thing was lost.  These two are similar, both a dark green, though one slightly lighter in color than the other.  It is not enough to simply guess at it from the color however, and resigning to the possibility that the two could be poison, he never the less takes the smallest of sips from each of the vials.

The first tastes sweet and herbal... refreshing and light.  It is chiron he decides, though likely a different recipe than his own.  A healing potion.  The other however...  Finn curls the edges of his mouth in confusion...  The taste is subtle.  And it didn't help that he had the overwhelming taste of the chiron already on his palate.  He isn't sure, he decides, though at least he has proven that the drink is not overtly nefarious...

Finn is just musing on the possibilities when all of a sudden, Munt rises up from the floor like a bolt.

"We need to go.  Now."  Munt breathes, not hardly pausing before he turns to face the stalagmite bridge.

Still, the momentary glance that Munt has shown him makes Finn extremely nervous.  The thickly built Munt is now pallid.  His engorged eyes are dilated and he is sweating profusely.  Whatever this sickness is it is taking him.  Fast.

Finn glances around to the others, searching for similar signs.  Omar seems no worse for wear...  His face still normal though the webbing in his hands has not disappeared.

Bashar still seems entirely normal...  An outcome which irks Finn, seeing as even he has succumbed to the first stages of the disease.

It is when he looks down at Labid though, that his stomach finally drops.  Labid looks just as poorly as Munt, his whole complexion sickly and splotchy.  His face bearing unnatural sweat for the cold of the cavern.  What's more, Labid's overgrown eyes dart this way and that as if the boy's mind is working feverishly behind them.

"Yes."  Labid says as he notices Finn watching him.  "Yes.  Let's go"

Clunk!

Finn turns back, watching as Munt crosses the stalagmites, dodging at each and testing out the the next empty chasm before moving on.

Clunk!

The monstrous hunchback moves quickly, the blades passing behind him as he crosses, easily dodging them despite his size and deformities.

Clunk!

"Wait up!"  Omar shouts, leaping on to the first of the stalagmites himself.

Clunk!  "One here too!"  Munt shouts as he turns wildly midair, this latest of the blades surprising him as it swings down from the roof of the cave.

Clunk!

Omar steps ahead as well, dodging the second of the blades.

"Allah, don't make me do this!"  Bashar tenses like a board as he watches the other two dance between the falling blades.

Finn stands up, finally rested back to full strength.

"Shit!"  Munt curses, and Finn watches as the hunchback, only moments ago as graceful as a ballerina, slips on the edge of the stalagmite, falling forward into the brink.

Clunk!

Munt holds out his arms, trying to grasp at the ledge of the far end of the chasm, but there is no way for him to avoid the blade.

Slink!

The blade hits Munt in the midsection, slashing his tough skin as it spins him around midair, sending him tumbling down into the depths.  Finn watches in horror as Munt falls out of view, and the only remnants of his passing is the quickly diminishing light that shines from his necklace!

"Munt!"  Omar shouts, leaning forward to look out and over the edge.

OOC:  It is 2145 on the 1st of June.  You have rested to full.

Since we discussed over the phone the fact that it's out of character not to check the potions, I went ahead and rolled for you since you had the time.  The first one is a healing potion of slightly different make than you are used to.  You failed your roll to identify the second.

Ok, so you've finally found there are 4 of the blade traps in total, 2 of which you can avoid completely by going to the bottom.

Roll vs. Dodge+3 for each of the blade traps you want to avoid (you must roll for at least the first one if you plan on going down after Munt).  Let me know if you have any questions.  A lot happened here and I might have missed something.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:32, Sat 10 Dec 2022.

When Finn returns to the near side platform and announces to his men what he has discovered but that he needs substantial rest he quite literally cringes at Omars response.  Shame frames the young mans face.  He knew it was coming, he was prepared for it yet he couldn't hold the awkward feelings at bay.  But how could he?  So much seemed at stake.  Try as he might to be careful it seems his magical ministrations have only caused them time.  Time they do not have.  Munt is slipping into some painful phase of the disease with the black mold like splotches about his body.  He tries to offer some form of resolution but the mage-thief feels just as upset with himself as his men do.

The resting time is slow.  He passes the slowly churning minutes by looking over his potions.  If he still had his portable alchemy set he could run proper scientific experiments on these vile vials.  But then he couldn't regain his strength.  No, he reckons in the end, the quick and dirty method will have to do.  Because he needs the distraction the plucky leader takes way too long examining each little bottle.  He looks at them from every angle, and from less than an inch from his eyeballs all the way to arms length.  He sniffs each one about a hundred times, and finally after much procrastination takes a tiny taste of the fluid.  He frowns at no one as one of the elixirs thwarts his efforts.

After what seems like half a day Finn is almost ready to jump to his feet when Munt takes him completely by surprise.  The man announces that it is time to move on but it is his appearance that knocks the driven adventurer like a warhammer to the belly.  Munt is pale and sweating as if he's just run here from al-Hassan.  And without warning the man begins jumping across the great black cavern.  His movements are not hard to follow as he leaps like a frog which is illuminated by the lighted rock around his neck.  Razzel shoots to his feet and watches in awe, not surprised in the least when Omar follows the deformed man.  Finn is half tempted to follow them in quick succession but reminds himself coolly that he has the only remaining light source on this side of the cavern.

And then the unthinkable happens.  Munt is caught off guard as the massive elephant sized blade catches him and knocks him off the perch.  Finn visibly grimaces.  This is what he feared most.  How much energy would it cost him?  How many others would fall, or worse die trying.  Finn is a damned good sorcerer for never having a formal teacher or school but even he couldn't protect and heal all these men.  Well, not quickly, and time is not on their side.

Ever the optimist Finn knows Munt is alive.  He may be broken, and perhaps knocked senseless, but he is alive.  The young man calls out without screaming.  His voice is calm and authoritative.  ”Omar.  Doan move.  Wur comin.”

The mage-thief knows what must be done and if he has to drag these boys by the hair they are coming with him.  Hardly looking at it he scoops up his pack and tosses it over the edge of the gorge.  ”Com'on men.  Wur goin' ta get 'em.”


OOC:
Grab my pack and any other gear not carried and toss it over the edge as gently as possible.  I don't plan on coming back up here.

Climb down as quickly as possible to the bottom.  If all three of us can climb at the same time do that.  Don't rush, we don't need anyone falling and breaking or spraining anything, but also don't be overly cautious.  Time is a'wastin.

Move to Munt at a jog listening for sounds of ambush.  I will go across the first blade trap first.  As I read it, the blade trap is sprung and then takes a little time to reset.  I will go across and assuming I trigger it, Bashar and Labid are to follow me after the blade passes.  Hopefully they can cross during the reset phase.  Before jumping across the trap throw my pack beyond it and my bow so that I am at 0 encumbrance when dodging.

Finn only allows himself a few moments to shout encouragement to his men and grab his pack.  Though he has no doubts that Munt is still alive (for Munt is a gargantuan specimen of a man, deformed as he is), he cannot question that his comrade is badly hurt, and likely in danger from whatever gruesome features Skoulos has added to the floor of this canyon.

Hoping to spring the trap and not face it himself, Finn hurls his bag forward and down into the void.  Surprised yet again by how quickly the blade drops from out of sight, the leather straps are barely out of his hand as he feels the whoosh! of air pass fragments of an inch from the tips of his fingers.

But there is not time to dwell over close calls!  Finn leaps to the pillar beyond, beckoning Labid and Bashar forward as he throws his leg over the side of the column and begins to climb downward, leaving the light on the step for the others to see.

"I'm coming down with you!"  Omar answers Finn's directive, likewise climbing down from where he stands up ahead.  "No sense in me staying up here alone in the dark!"

Labid leaps across after Finn, the youth clearing the gap before the blade has a chance to reset.  He too takes a hold on the column and swings his legs over, sliding down as much as climbing to follow Finn to the bottom.

"Allah is great!  There is nothing he cannot do!"  Bashar pleads in prayer as he hesitates on the edge...  "Allah will do this for me!  I am the vessel to do his bidding!"

His whole body taut in expectation, Bashar leaps ahead, landing squarely on the plinth before straightening back in an awkward wobble.

"Allah is great!"  He nearly shouts in victory, grasping the small stone necklace as he too begins to climb down to the floor of the canyon.

Squeak!

Finn's attention strays down to the floor of the canyon, where his bag has fallen near the bottom of the first stalagmite.  There, upon the floor he can already see the gathering of small forms... rats... which seem to be swarming his bag only a few moments after it has hit the ground!

"Allah is great!"  Bashar's words seem to go up another octave, his whole body rigid with the effort of lowering himself down.

OOC:  You succeeded your climbing roll down, and Labid is following you down quickly as well.  You have probably another 10 feet or so before you hit the bottom (or of course you could jump down from here if you want).  I opted for you to leave the light at the top, so the other two could see where they were jumping.  There is some light down at the bottom, though there are other stalagmites in the way of you actually seeing where Munt is.

There are probably a dozen rats all swarming your backpack.  Unknown if there are more elsewhere.

Finn climbs down and down, wishing for nothing more than to make it to his new friend with all the speed he can muster.  Will the stitched man need magical healing, or will his healers kit be alright?  The plucky leader will not allow himself to entertain ideas that Munt is no longer alive.

It is difficult finding footholds and handholds in the semi-dark quickly but thankfully Finn is an expert climber.  But it is when he is not far from the base of this rocky ravine that something makes Razzel's stomach crawl.  Rats.  No, he isn't that squeamish to squeal at the sight of bugs or rodents like some weak willed barmaid.  Finn is worried about what else might be prowling around down here in the dark.  Let'tit come fer me then.

” 'Em almost down Omar.  Izz'e ok?”


OOC:
So I understand Munt then Omar jumped across several pillars.  What platform did Munt fall from?  Just trying to gauge how much distance between me and Munt.  While Omar is in darkness up on his platform (til he began climbing down) but Munt still has the light stone, yes?  So unless Munt is covered by rats (or something else) Omar should be able to see him?

I jumped across one platform, took off the necklace and then began climbing down.  Labid jumped and is already climbing down too, and Bashar made his jump but did shit himself.  And he has my light stone.  Yes?

You said there is some natural light at the bottom.  I can see a swarm of about a dozen rats down here but I assume the natural light is so dim I cant see much unless something is right on top of me.  Literally.

Jump down to speed up my pace.  Use Acrobatics to stick the landing.  Grab my pack and bow, use my foot to shoo the rats away.  If I can see well enough begin jogging towards Munt.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:43, Tue 13 Dec 2022.

Finn kicks off from the column, letting himself fall the last of the distance to the ground.  Though his intent is to hit the ground softly, turning over with a backwards summersault, Finn muffs the move, hitting his heels to hard to redistribute his weight for the trick.  Instead, Finn simply falls to his back, though he decides after a moment that he is still no worse for wear.

"Rats!"  Omar says as Finn asks how Munt is doing.  "They are all over him!"  Finn hears the clunk of feet hitting the ground several yards away as he pushes himself back up to a stand, then hustles over to where his backpack and bow lay on the ground.

Shooing the little bastards with his foot, Finn reaches down to collect his back, half before realizing just how bad the infestation is...

Rather than being shooed, the rat at Finn's foot leaps from the floor onto his leg.  In his hand, his backpack seems to sprout several more, their faces covered with the hard cheese and dried meat of Finn's saved rations!

Before Finn can even decide what to do, another of the things has jumped from the bag onto this arm, and sinks its sharp teeth into Finn's fire-scarred leather armor!

OOC:  Unfortunately, the rats are not shooed.  I normally don't get super into the rules if I can help it, but remember that you do not get a defense against swarm attacks.  Their attacks automatically hit.  If you want to disperse the rats, you have to do damage.

I attempted a brawling attack on your last turn (seemed a reasonable interpretation of "shooing with your foot") and though it hit, it did 0 damage, so I played it as if it wasn't really an attack at all.

You have your bag in your left hand and have not yet grabbed your bow.  I don't think we need to do turn by turn combat here, just tell me what you want to do and I'll fast forward until something changes.

Despite not having his lighted stone around his neck he can see well enough to spy little brown things flipping and flopping around all over his pack as he nears the bottom.  Rats.  It cannot be anything else.  Finn isn't bothered by the little dirty vermin.  Even a small family of them.

Even as he approaches his pack and makes a grab for it the disgusting beasts scurry around frantically and it doesn't take Finn long to guess why.  There isn't much in the way of food down here.  Surely the cultists have the good sense to avoid this area.

Seeing the fleabags he is reminded of why he doesn't like them.  In the seedy underbelly of the criminal world its not unheard of to use rats.  When a man has information there are several ways to get him to sing like a bird.  One can threaten to hurt his loved ones.  Or break or cut off parts of his body.  There are the traditional torture devices favored by some governmental and religious figures, such as the rack, the stockades and whipping to name but a few.  But using rats was inspired by deamons.  If a rather stubborn man still refuses to talk the treatment is simple, quick and always effective.  The man is strapped to a chair and a rat is placed inside a metal bucket, which is then strapped to his stomach.  If nothing happens the rat will simply sniff around the bucket.  However, if the pail is sufficiently heated the rat will do anything to avoid being burned alive.  The common man does not know this but a rats teeth and jaws are extremely powerful and durable.  A rat can literally eat through a human on its way to escape.  Razzel witnessed this happen once and he did not see it through without tossing his lunch onto the floor.

A quick swipe with his foot ends in two of the rats deciding he probably tastes better than whatever dried road rations are remaining in his pack.  Finn knows he cannot exert himself too much for time is beginning to cut into them like the huge blades housed in the rock ceiling above.  However he also knows that if the entire swarm devours his food it will turn on him and how long can he hold them off.  He musters all of his concentration, which isn't easy when a rat is crawling around one's arm looking for a crack in the leather armor.  Finn fights back thoughts of what would happen if one or two of the buggers crawled up his leg and mistook his twig and berries for a plump sausage!  Waggling a few fingers in the correct dance Finn recites the ancient words and he feels the energy flow through him.

But it is when the brown rodents look up at him, faces covered in bits of dried meat and cheese.  Memories of Perdition come flooding back over him.  He lost one pack to fire from the Wazifis, he isn't going to loose this one to another dungeon!  With rage filling him his long knife suddenly appears in his hand and he screams, ”DIE LITTLE PIGGIES!!!!”


OOC:
Cast Armor, Level 1.  FD knife.  AoA for 2 attacks.  Keep doing that until either the swarm is dead or I take more than half HP.  If Labid, Bashar and I manage to kill the swarm before you need to stop the action then grab my bow and jog to Munt.  Do not renew the spell.

Cursing at the damned rats, Finn takes only a moment to cast  a spell for durability before he slings his knife from his belt and drops his bag, slashing at anything and everything he can get his hands on!

The rat on his leg goes first, hacked off with a well placed slash across its front body.  Finn cringes in pain though, as one that is climbing up his arm buries it's sharp teeth into his elbow!  Finn swings his knife in frustration, catching the thing unawares right in the belly as it flies off with a screech!

Before Finn realizes it, Labid is there, club in hand and smashing willy-nilly at the area around his back, smashing one of the beasts right upon the neck, collapsing the back of its skull and pressing it to the floor in a bloody mess!

Finn slashes again!  This time taking out one of the beasts scurrying around near his legs, though in the scramble, he misses that there is still one of the bastards on him, which bites down hard at the back of his neck!

Finn shouts in unexpected, piercing pain!  He flings his left arm behind his head, gripping at the ball of bloody fur and teeth, and hurls the beast as far as he can!

Labid smashes another one of the monsters with his club, breaking the thing's back and hip with a crunch, though it attempts to continue crawling, yelling all the while with an ear piercing screech.  Labid follows up the blow with one that is higher, smashing the thing this time behind the head and it ceases both its movement and noise.

Nearly as soon as the beasts appeared, the rats flee all at a time, one of the last running from the inside of Finn's backpack with a full sausage hanging from its mouth.  Though he longs to kill the damn rodent for its theft, Finn instead grabs his pack and bow and makes with haste towards Munt, taking the long way round the blades to ensure that no further injury occurs.

But as Finn finally makes it to Munt, he sees Omar chasing off the last of the rats there as well, his own blade slicked with small splotches of crimson ick.

Finn hurries forward to Munt to assess the damage from the blade...  It cut his body straight down from the shoulder to the side, and is bleeding torrents.  Somehow, miraculously, it seems the blow has stopped at his ribs, although Finn would guess there are several of them that are broken from the impact and the fall.  It's bad, there is no doubt...  Though Finn knows he can heal this...  And he has the potion too.

"I am here!"  Bashar cheers as he makes it to the bottom of the stalagmite.  "Allah is great and I have made it to you!  My faith has made me strong!"

OOC:  I went ahead and did your intent through the combat.  Everyone is now safely at the bottom.  You would estimate that Munt is below 0 HP, but above -HP.  He's a big sucker though, so that could be a wide range.

Finn has fought thugs, soldiers and bandits, wizards, wild animals, shadow beasts, constructs, the possessed and more.  But he cannot remember a time when he has done battle with a small army of pests.  To look at one its easy to assume the fight will be a slaughter in favor of the giant but it is the sheer numbers that is often overlooked, and while Finn didn't completely discount them he did underestimate them.  With the war won and pack and bow in hand the plucky leader jogs off feeling the stinging pain of his cuts and small bites.

As he comes into view of Munts huge and unmoving body Razzel tosses his things onto the ground and drops to his knees beside his new friend.  A pained look dances across his face, ever the optimist Finn wants his bodyguard to be alive but even he cannot lie to himself that in this moment he is fueled only by hope.  The plucky leader places a hand upon the mans neck to feel for a thumping rhythm and he exhales in relief when he finds one.

Just then his quick mind begins to race at a near frantic pace of the possibilities.  His healing magic is the obvious choice, he has the as yet untested restoration potion and as a last option there is a healers kit in his pack, assuming the family of dirty rats didn’t eat the herbs and ointments or shit on the wrappings.  Instantly Finn rejects any long nursing work.  Physicians can repair more but that work is time consuming.  And while his magic is powerful it is costly.  Do they have the time for another long rest?   It takes the mage-thief almost no time to decide his path.  He grabs the big man’s shoulders and grunts with a pull but only manages to roll the man.  ”By the Gods he’s a log.  Help me.  Sit'um up.”.  With some help Munt is lifted up into a crude sitting position.  With one arm around the patchwork man’s back and neck, Finns other hand reaches to his belt where he fishes for a small bottle.  With a light snarl, as he isn’t entirely certain what this will do, he bites down on the cork stopper and gives the small vial a little jerk to free its lid.  He lets Munt's head roll back easily to open the man’s throat and dumps the entire contents into the big man’s mouth.

OOC:
I took a few liberties with the NPC but as I worked out some details with the GM I assumed I wasn't out of line.

Pour the newly found healing potion down Munts throat.  This brings him to consciousness.  Using my FA kit perform First Aid on both me and Munt, doing the quick version for 1 HP each.  Sit and talk calmly about our next move.  If the convo takes more than 5 minutes, rest until I gain back 1 FP.  If the convo takes less than 5 minutes, then we head out without me getting back any FP.

Once we move out head to the far side of the cavern.  I will trigger the traps by tossing my pack across.  Everyone is to run or jump across after the blade has passed and hopefully can take advantage of it resetting.  Assuming we all make it without major incident we will attempt to climb up and out to the ledge I floated over earlier.

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:47, Thu 15 Dec 2022.

Finn is happy to discover that by pouring the healing potion down Munt's throat, his hulky accomplice stirs into wakefulness... not to mention that the gruesome gash across his chest begins to film over with a fresh layer of scab...  Munt is far from healed, though the progress accomplished by the little bottle of green liquid seems far more than Finn could have accomplished with a potion of his own make...  He wonders briefly if somehow he could be able to learn that recipe on his own...

Finn lays the man back down gently upon the rocky floor and he points towards his pilfered pack.  ”Sum'body grab mah healers kit.  It's a plain brown box, with a red heart on'it.”  As Finn is handed the first aid kit he begins to go to work applying some herbs to a simple bandage which is tenderly laid upon Munt's largest wound.  Next he does the same for himself, wrapping the bandage around his neck before ensuring that no one else is in need of bandaging.

Razzel leans back against his pack for support while relaxing.  He casts a curious look to each of his men before launching into a ream of questions.  ”What now?  Do'ah heal us Munt, an' rest?  An' take the chance 'a sum'un bad?  Or do we go on?  Can you go on, Munt?”

Munt painfully pushes himself back up to a sit, thinking on the question for several moments before he answers.  "I can go on."

"Can ya move ok?  If we climb outta this hole, ya gonna need help?”  Finn presses... something about Munt's expression leads him to believe there is more to the answer than Munt is letting on.

"I can go on."  Munt repeats, pushing himself up to a stand.  "And I don't think we should tarry here.  This curse...  This disease...  It's affecting me.  Not just my body... but my mind.  I hear things.  Voices.  I have suffered much by way of my master's magic, by way of what I am.  But my mind has always ever been my own... Until now."

A chill runs down Finn's back and he shivers slightly.  Voices.  Who's voices?  Imagined, or real?  And more alarming, what are they saying?  So Finn asks timidly, sure is not going to like the response.  ”The voices.  They sayin' sum'in like come join us?”

Munt nods.

Finn gulps.  He doesn't want to ask but he knows he'll regret it if he doesn't.  ”The voices.  They tellin' you to kill yer friends?”

Munt pauses for several moments this time, his eyes averted from Finn.  Though eventually, he nods.

Ever the optimist Finn stands and grabs his gear.  He approaches the big man and places a hand on his shoulder.  ”That ain't gonna happen Munt.  We're gonna find this bastard an' mak'um put all this right.”

And then something pops in the mercenary's head.  His gaze turns to meet Labid's. ”You hearin' the voices too?”

Labid seems taken aback by Finn's attention, and even more so by the question.  His massive, over-sized eyes dart this way and that for several moments before he answers in a flat, almost monotone voice.  "Yes.  Yes, I'm hearing the voices."

The prospect of losing not one, but two of his crew to delusion and madness sets a fire under Finn as nothing else has.  He packs up medical kit, restrings his bag, and begins immediately to climb back up the last stalagmite on the far side of the canyon.

Though the going is slow and their progress is hampered by the trap and the fact that the stalagmite really only has enough room for one to stand, all of Finn's men manage the climb and the jump without incident, the empty clunk! and whoosh! of the last blade each time slicing through nothing but air.

The upside to the slow pace is that as the first to cross, Finn gets to sit, renewing himself slightly with rest as the slower members of the group manage their way up and across.

Once everyone is together, Finn stands and presses forward down the hallway which turns to the right, then back to the left before splitting in two directions.  Going down the left fork, which is actually straight ahead, the corridor continues for several yards before turning again sharply to the left.

Down the right fork however, Finn sees something much more interesting.

"Look at that!"  Bashar exclaims, taking a timid step in that direction as if to get a better view.  Finn is tempted to do the same, in fact, he's tempted to rush to the end of the hallway before anyone else gets the same idea, to make it clear that he's in charge of splitting the loot, and that no one else should get any ideas.

For at the end of the hallway, floating in the air and ready to be plucked, is a gleaming blue sapphire the size of a man's head.

Finn is not one for overt greed... but his mind struggles to calculate how much wealth this single stone represents.  Millions! certainly.  More wealth than Finn has ever seen or even thought to contemplate!

Finn barely even notes the odd looking mosaic on the floor, another odd demonic figure not unlike the monkey or the bird in the room with the collapsing ceiling...

"Look at it!"  Labid gawks in awe.  "It's beautiful!"  And the youth too takes an earnest step forward.

OOC:  It is 2205 on the 1st of June.  I pilfered the last part of your post and edited slightly.  No significant content changes though to the stuff that you wrote.

Just in case you forgot, Finn is greedy, just not modest.  Make a self control roll vs. Greed at -5 in addition to a self control roll vs. Overconfidence.  If you pass both you may act as you see fit, if you fail either you must make a play for the stone.  Role play appropriately for the failed roll.

All in all the Munt event took minutes.  His abrupt take off, his fall, his rescue and the enlightening and terrifying revelation that the man is holding onto his mind by in intangible thread.  Perhaps not a thread but more like a string.  And not just Munt but Labid too.  Nevertheless the event felt like hours the way it pulled at his mental strength.  Finally Finn breathes a sigh of relief when at last all of his men pass from the deadly cavern into the next phase of the ruined and trapped old keep.  He sighs audibly, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders.  But the feeling of joy is short lived for while the mage-thief is not known to dwell in worry he cannot help but distress over the location of this mysterious vault the priestess spoke of.  Assuming she was speaking true where is it?  And will he find it before his men succumb to the curse?  Will Finn be fighting the ill willed cultists at the same time he is battling his own men struck by a mind sickness?  As if he doesn't have enough to worry about there is the issue of his dwindling resources.  The rats have decimated his food supplies and a food shortage concerned him even before arriving on this rock.  When they defeat the foul mage and his plans, will he and his men win the battles only to loose the war by starving to death?  The final joke's on the rats he muses to himself, he and his men on their way out of this foul place might have to hunt down the rats and eat them.

Although he tries he fails to hold back his imaginative speculation at what oddities might come next.  A giant crab but instead of pincers its arms end in swords and axes?  Some mythological beast asking riddles and if the interlopers fail to answer they are hastily eaten?  A magical field that ages the intruders into debilitating old age?

As they walk Razzel is quiet letting his mind wander about his own fate.   Two of his men have said they hear voices.  Voices that don't belong.  Voices telling them dangerous things, deadly things.  Will Finn hear these in time?  Can the voices convince him to act against his new friends?  The happy-go-lucky adventurer has always prided himself on his intellect above all else.  Sure, he's a widely talented man.  An acrobat, a better than average swordsman, a gifted con man, magically inclined, charming, but his mind he holds in regard as his most valuable possession.  If he lost it he would quite literally fall apart.

They press onward and it isn't long before they spy something that stops Finn in his tracks.  A blue sapphire so large it would require the man both hands to hold it.  So big he would have to dump half the contents from his pack to carry it on his back.  Finn stands mesmerized.  His mind runs wild with the possibilities of what he could do with that wealth.  He could replace the lost alchemy traveling lab.  And his lost spellbooks.  And buy new weapons and armor so finely crafted they would make the lords of Azer jealous.  And hire a pack of men to follow him around for the next decade as his own personal bodyguards.  And, and, and.  But then his mind whispers to him that this cannot be real.  It must be a trap a soft gentle voice whispers to him. Like the two key room and the swinging blades cavern.  No sensible evil genius would put true treasure out in plain sight just waiting to be stolen so easily. It must be an illusion, or there must be something deadly waiting for would be thieves who venture too close.

And then Labid speaks.  "Look at it!  It's beautiful!", the young man exclaims.  Finn turns to look at him.  Razzel's face sours.  He's seen that look before.  Lust.  Pure unadulterated lust.  Doesn't Labid know their leader has first claim to all treasure here?  Sure, they will get their fair share.  But the tough mercenary has planned this expedition.  He has put up the capital stake.  He has taken the lions share of the risks.  Did he not scout ahead last night and nearly die fighting a croc in the lake?  And did he not jump in the lake alone today to finish the job?  And what about the low ceilinged room?  Razzel ventured in himself.  Alone!  And this boy has the audacity to think he can just mosey in there and put his greasy fingers on Finns claim!!??  Who does he think he is?  As if he means to take it the youth steps forward.  The leaders hand shoots out casting his palm over the boys stomach.  He isn't aware of the glare his face makes.  ”Not so fast.  Its mine!!!”, Finn hisses.  Nor is he aware that his voice holds a bit too much contempt.  The mage-thief quickly saunters into the room a slow happy grin growing across his lips.

As Finn casually strides forward his shoulders relax.  His face turns from irritation and disgust to a happy smile.  He had been wondering for hours about the balance sheet of this expedition.  They hadn't come here to save the Wazifi's.  They had come here for riches.  The accumulated knowledge of the ancient mage who sunk his fortress in a deep hole to avoid a war.  And surely over time many adventurers had come here, treasures seekers like himself had come here.  And died.  Leaving behind the magical knick knacks they brought with them.  And Finn couldn't forget the silver and gold stolen from travelers as they were kidnapped and sacrificed like the ritual he saw early this morning.  So where was all this loot hiding?  It had been bothering him but all seems right as he steps closer and closer to the first of his major prizes.  ” 'Bout time ya give up the goods.”, he says to this place as if it could hear him and understand.

OOC:
Lol.  I have not forgotten.

Walk straight to the gem and grab it.  Finns greed has made him forget his original thought that the room may be trapped.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:14, Mon 19 Dec 2022.

Finn places a solid arm against Labid's chest with a sneer, certain that the act is enough to keep the youth from trying to seize the stone out of turn, even if his actions are sharper than he really intended.

Finn hops forward at a saunter, making quick speed towards the gem.  However, his smile droops to ire as he hears Labid's boot steps echoing behind him.

"It's speaking to me!"  Labid yells behind Finn, making a move to pass although Finn shuffles himself to the side to block him again.

"It's not FAIR!"  Labid spits the words in anger, now almost charging to get ahead of Finn.  "You already have a sword!"

Though Finn's greed had blinded him, the words stick in his mind as if tied there with strong twine.  So Labid did not see a gem at all, but a sword?  Finn slows, his careful mind working overtime to seek out what else is wrong... though his reaction is far too late.

Still outside of hand's reach from the mosaic and the floating stone, the gem blinks out of existence at the same moment that the demon's maw seems to gape open in glee.  The tunnel is suddenly filled with gale force winds, pushing Finn forward such that he is unable to stop!

His backpack is pressed upwards against the back of his head and Finn leans over against the pressure as his bow, the backpack, and everything else he owns begins to fly from his body, out of sheaths and towards the roaring demon!

At his side, Labid screams by, laughing in glee as his own knife and club flying from his belt.  Labid seems to make a play for something mid-air as he disappears with a flash into nothingness, taken by the maw of the demon on the floor!

"Labid!  Finn!"  The others shout behind them, their words barely audible over the scream of the gale.

OOC:  We're very close to being at a point where we can finish the rest of this over real-time play.

The stone over the demon mural has disappeared, which I'm sure you are shocked to find was not real but an illusion.

Everything that you own that isn't fixed to your character by means stronger than a strap is being pulled from your grasp.  This includes everything on your character sheet that isn't armor.  If you wish to keep any of it, state what you are trying to grab and roll vs. DX (you get a total of two rolls, one for each hand, with your off hand suffering the normal -4 penalty, please state which is which in your rolls - for example 1. Grab sword Right hand and/or 2. Grab potion pouch Left hand).

Regardless of success or other attempts, you are being pulled towards the demon maw faster than you can resist.  It seems to have teleported Labid elsewhere, as there is no trace of him or his weapons (which he did not manage to grab) anywhere.

Finn begins at a walk, which turns into a quick walk and grows into a jog.  What the hell is Labid thinking??!!  Does the boy not recognize who is in charge here?  And that its not a sword but a magnificent gem?

And then a slow realization begins to creep over him bringing with it a chill to his bones.  There is no head sized sapphire.  It is an illusion.  Each person sees what they desire greatly.  And that is the perfect trap.  The mirage takes the form of a thing each person would kill for, would die for.  Finn had to hand it to the designers of this place, they were cunning, there is no doubt.

But before he has time to bask in the cleverness of this place the real trap reveals itself.  All at once a mighty wind shoots from behind and pushes him towards the deamon face.  His belongings, this stuff that he has held dear and been counting on to save him when he meets the mad wizard, it is lifted and carried from him.  All of it!  His hands lurch out frantically to grab at everything but the gusts prove too powerful and too erratic.  With grace and skill his right hand catches his sword just as it leaves its scabbard, and because of his athletic prowess Razzel pinches a small black vial between a finger and thumb.  He has been waiting to use this little beauty until the very end.  He grins at his masterful abilities, and then to his horror a knife flies from his belt hitting the potion and sending it into the black mouth.  ”No.......”

Finn reaches forward, managing to grab the grip of his sword as it is ripped forward out of its scabbard, but as he does so nearly everything else is ripped from his body in the torrential gale!

His backpack flies from his shoulders over his head as his pouches, tucked under his belt, are rent from their resting places and fly forward to the void!  His knives are ripped from their scabbards, his beautiful potion, gone in an instant, lost between his still clinging fingers!  Ahead, above the gaping mouth of the demon mosaic, Finn watches as his possessions blink out of existence one at a time with a flash like a firework.

But Finn has little time to dwell on the losses, for he too is flying forward, towards the mosaic, his feet scrabbling backwards but to no avail.  He flails wildly, trying one last time to find something to keep him in place and then...!

Everything is gone in a flash of light.

The experience of teleportation is something new for Finn.  All at once the world is gone and a new one appears, though it doesn't seem to settle all at once.  Instead, the room spins as Finn hears one after another pop of energy and flash of light that echoes all across the large, open space.

As the world settles, Finn begins to take account of where he is...

Before and below him stretches an enormous ruin.  It appears to be a burial chamber of sorts...  A wide open cave with a dilapidated ziggurat that looks to have been built in ancient times.  Once, perhaps, it was an ornate tomb but now the cavern is dotted with broken and crumbling pillars, fallen rubble, and the whisper of fallen heroes.

The cavern is lit by a number of braziers, each lit with flaming oil, casting a hellish,
flickering light across various scattered piles of musty treasures that litter the ruined chamber.

In the center, atop the ziggurat, Finn spies a throne fit for a giant.  And just before it is an enormous stone sarcophagus, emblazoned with jewels.  Scrambling up the stairs towards the sarcophagus, phylactery clenched in one hand, is a black robed figure...  Prostrate on the ground before the monument are two rows of cultists lined up between the pillars, eight in total bowed down on their knees and groveling, either before Malakai, or before the grave of Skoulos!

Bbzzzt!

As the world slowly begins to slow to motionlessness, Finn feels the greatest disturbance of energy yet, and then Munt stands at his side, his hands empty as the twin legs of the crocodile are no longer anywhere to be seen.

Finn stares at the far edges of the room.  To the left he can see Bashar and Labid standing together, with Bashar still managing to grip his staff.  All the way across, nearly hidden by the columns standing between, he spies Omar who still holds his sword and shield.

Finn glances down at his feet and notes there on the ground, lies his quiver next to Labid's club!  His quiver is half spilled (for surely he had more arrows than that!) but still in tact... but where now are the rest of his things?

But before he can even get in his first normal breath, the form of Malakai looks back from the steps of the ziggurat and spies them, his facial features deforming to a half-mad grin of euphoria.

"Kill them!"  Malakai shouts, churning his legs all the faster to get to the top of the monument.  "Spill their blood for the revival of the lich!"

OOC:  Setup here for flavor with the map down below (grid is 5ft).  Expect the rest of this to be played out over realtime media so that we can finish the combat before I head out.  Do feel free however to reply in order to respond to the events that occurred up to this point if you wish.

A couple things to note.  You are about 20 feet up off the floor of the cavern, with a narrow path that leads to stairs as shown on the map.  The rubbled areas are places where it seems where the path has crumbled, sending a shower of rock, dirt, and scree down to the bottom that makes a steep sort of slope.  The Lettered areas A, B, C, D, and E are places where you saw flashes of teleportation, and you likely saw at least Omar appear in a flash at E.  On a roll vs. IQ, you can speculate that your other items arrived in the other spots, though you are not sure which ones went where.

The cultists below are almost entirely nude except for a loincloth, although they seem to all have weapons.

There are various small bits of treasure throughout the room.  The mechanics for searching these in the module are haphazard and random, and we can get more to this in real time, just realize that you can try and find things within the little spots of dilapidated treasure if you so wish.

Please ask any questions you wish and looking forward to playing through the rest of this with you.

Finn is disoriented as this new world appears in front of him... the shimmering flashes of air sparkle on all sides of the room, sometimes seeming to disappear into nothing, other times leaving a compatriot there as the blast of light disappears.  He can only assume that the rest of his equipment is there somewhere, though it appears he will have no time to grab it.

Malakai is here... and it seems he is not long from summoning forth the lich.

"Munt, get my quiver and the club!"  Finn shouts, even as he makes his way over to the slope kicking his feet over the side as he slides gracefully to the floor, some twenty feet below.

"Kill them!"  Malakai shouts again, for his flunkies there at the bottom of the ziggurat have not yet sprung to action.

"Leaving already?"  Finn shouts towards Malakai as the other turns his back and begins to ascend the last of the steps towards the peak.  "You plan on telling your wizard friend that you couldn't even manage your own battles when he comes back?"

The taunt has its desired effect, and Finn chuckles underneath his breath as Malakai turns again, hurling a ball of blackened flame towards Finn, a missile which misses only barely despite the near thirty yards between himself and the madman.

The sound of cackling laughter distracts Finn for the moment, and it takes him a moment to place it.  High, off to his left, Labid is laughing in deranged joy his hands open and cupping upwards towards the ceiling.

"He's deranged!"  Bashar shouts, though Finn has little attention for it, for several of the flunkies are already falling in upon him!

"I hope you aren't as bad at your summoning as you are throwing fireballs!"  Finn retorts again as he lashes out with his sword, a blow which is battered aside by a zealot's spear.  "Or poor Skoulos will never make it back."

Finn grins.  Sparing a moment to look back up at Malakai who continues to focus his attention on Finn, hurling another ball of ebony fire, this one which Finn has to twist violently out of the way to dodge, and which scorches already flame-charred bits of his armor, remnants of his fight with Haj-Umr all those months ago.

Somewhere behind him, Finn hears Munt scrabble down the slope.  Ahead, he sees Omar do the same, though the old warrior tumbles forwards onto all fours before pushing himself back up to his feet and charging ahead.

Finn lashes out with his sword again, and this time the blade sinks deeply into the zealot's side, the man coughs blood and staggers backwards, swiveling to his back as he swoons, his spear clattering to the ground at his side.

But Finn has no time to gloat, two more set upon him in the place of the last, and Munt on his left takes another pair!

Finn's sword flies in a series of blows, his body twisting in all directions to avoid the swatting blows of axes and knives!

He is only vaguely aware that Bashar and Labid are now fighting each other, that the guide is holding his own despite being set upon from behind...  That he has struck Labid so hard on the side of the neck that the youth is falling the twenty feet down to the floor of the temple.

Somewhere ahead, he sees that Omar has taken down another of the flunkies...  Though he too now faces another pair.

Atop the ziggurat, Malakai now is chanting loudly in some god-forsaken tongue, his voice magnified and deepened as if by magic.  He holds the phylactery aloft in both hands and the thing begins to glow.

But Finn is not concerned.  For he cannot lose.  He thrusts forward, sinking his sword deep into another man's chest.

He is invincible...  At least, that is what Finn thinks.  Right up until the moment where the axe smashes into the flesh of his low abdomen.

Out of habit or else muscle memory, Finn spins away.  His mind still sending commands to his body, though his arms and his legs only seem to obey in weakened, false returns.  He struggles to strike out at another of his foes, though his leg buckles underneath him.  He realizes as he falls backwards that his vision is beginning to blur.

Somewhere around him, Finn can still hear the shouts of Munt, Bashar, and Omar, each in varied states of panic.  He can't quite make out the words, though he can tell by their tones that something is wrong.  Only vaguely does Finn feel hitting the floor, only barely can he taste the acrid tang of blood upon his lips.

In his last waking moments, Finn finds that his senses fade from him, washed away as if from the waves on a beach.

And then at last, he sleeps.

OOC: Damn.  That was not what I expected here.  For a flunky to one-shot you with a crit success on an attack after waiting 4 months for a finale is truly unfortunate.

Even worse, Munt and Bashar didn't make it very far after your departure.  Omar unbelievably took out his three goons before soloing Malakai and smashing the phylactery... though he couldn't make it out either after he was set upon by the last three goons and Malakai at the same time.

Please feel free to make a last post here if you wish, as well as a post in Last Will and Testament.

Each room that Finn passes through he is playing the role of master administrator.  Skillful acrobatic, walking an invisible tightrope.  He is balancing the group's physical, emotional and spiritual health.  Quite literally.  After Munt's fall and the brief battle with rats it has left the party scratched and bruised.  But more alarming is the mental war being waged.  Both his hunchbacked friend and Labid are succumbing to some evil unseen force tempting their very minds to join sides with the sleeping mad lich, who is whispering to them seductive sweet nothings of the juicy taste of murdering their traveling companions, who are after all, bent on killing the lich before he can awake from his long slumber.

So at each crossroads Razzel weighs the balance of how fast to push his comrades forward against what must be sacrificed.  In the swinging trap room he personally downs a healing potion and gives his last to Munt to bring the man back to the land of living.  But through it all he still holds two critically important elixirs, ones that he has been saving for the final showdown.  A potion that renders him invisible, and one that grants him powers superior to mere men.  Once he downs these no one could best his steel.

Then unexpectedly he is sucked through some kind of teleportation door, to find himself in the burial chamber of the mad wizard.  To his dismay, without his gear!  Somewhere in the room are his knives, his bow and most hurtful to be without, his potions.  But thankfully Finn is a master at most things.  While being lightly injured his inner forge is burning hot with energy and his spell arsenal is potent.

Finn slides down the rocky small cliff face where he begins throwing barbarous insults at the wicked sorcerer and to his glee the man takes the bait, tossing magical fire at him impotently.  The mage-thief easily side steps them as he engages with the dullard, simpleton zealots.  They will be easily dispatched, for Gods sake they aren't even wearing armor.

Razzel runs his fine long blade through one, then two.  Next he faces off against an axe man and as Finn goes to twist at the hips to lean out of the way he mistakenly leans into the head of the damned thing.  The keen edge of the axe cuts through his armor like butter and buries itself half way into his soft belly.  Finn writhes in pain and fights back a scream.  Warm blood gushes down his pants so violently he first thinks he's peed himself.  His mouth fills with blood.  But the man does not panic.  He knew this fight would be difficult.  He knew it would not come without set backs.  This can be overcome.  He knows healing magic.  A quick spell and he'll be right as rain, then dispatch the last of these cretins.  If Omar can fell his men, Bashar is not far behind and with the cavalry they can mount the stairs and deal with the dreaded insane warlock.

The ever optimist rogue wills his fingers to rise and his mouth to open to form the words of his healing spell but his mouth only softly gurgles.  His energy fades and the spaces at the edges of his vision grow dark.  No.  I cannot fall.  I promised Munt.  I promised these men.  I promised the village.  Damn you, you weakling.  You coward.  You know the words, say them!!!  You will not give up!!!

But the words do not come.  Finn is unaware of how it happened but he is laying on his side.  His limbs do not obey him.  His eyes are open but the things he sees and the sounds he hears sound a hundred feet away.

And then, all is black.


OOC:
Yup.  Truly the Micheal Jordan of bad luck on rolls.  To be one shot'd by the equivalent of a D&D kobold.  A sad end but all good things must come to an end.  And so ends the tale of the braggart, egotistical adventurer.

Thanks for seeing this through and rolling the dice to see if they could avoid a TKP.  I'm glad to know at least that Omar stopped their attempts at the resurrection.

This message was last edited by the player at 02:44, Thu 27 Apr 2023.