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.