Mayhew darts forward and strikes at the head of the creature. While small, he puts all of his strength into the blow.

---

OOC Spending a level of Might Effort for Extra Damage. A roll of 17 will hit Difficulty 6 because his unarmed attack is light and reduces the difficulty by 1. On a 17, he gets +1 damage and +3 damage from effort. Total damage from the hit is 8.
  17:27, Today: Mayhew rolled 17 using 1d20 with rolls of 17.  Unarmed Attack (Might Effort for extra damage).

A sickening crack breaks the carapace of the creature's head.  A gout of ichor splashes onto Mayhew and Artor.  Chittering, the creature releases Artor's leg and pushes his hand away as it bolts toward the southern border of the circle of bare ground, beginning to throw sand and drit in all directions.

OOC: So combat order is Artor, Creature, Derrick/Mayhew.  Artor's action was petting it, the creature is fleeing but still in immediate distance.  Derrick and Mayhew, you guys are up.

Derrick is briefly torn as the creature begins to flee whether he should simply let it go, but he has dealt with dangerous beasts before and knows they rarely reciprocate such mercy the next time they go hunting. So he takes another mighty swing with his mace.

Derrick rolled 6 using 1d20. Melee attack (Might Effort to reduce difficulty). Derrick has an asset to melee attacks from Aggression. With that and the Effort he should hit DC 4 for 5 damage.

With no desire to leave such a threat near his community, Mayhew darts after the creature. As he closes, he performs a gymnastic flip and brings down a foot in a powerful kick to the creature's head.

---

OOC And spending an XP for a reroll on that natural 1. A roll of 10 hits Difficulty 4. Might effort for bonus damage again. Total damage is 7.
  18:00, Today: Mayhew rolled 1 using 1d20 with rolls of 1.  Unarmed Attack (Might Effort for extra damage).
  18:01, Today: Mayhew rolled 10 using 1d20 with rolls of 10.  Spending XP for a reroll.

Derrick's mace slams into the creature's exposed abdomen and tears a hole wide enough that the creature's viscera begin to splatter outward.  Mayhew's kick causes the now-lifeless creature to roll in Mayhew's direction, further covering him with bug gore.  Soon, the night is quiet but for the heaving breaths of the three weary survivors.

"Artor," Mayhew calls out. "Are you okay?" He begins moving toward to his future companion.

Derrick also clambers around the dead creature to check on Artor, though between his sprinting and the fight he is too out of breath to say anything. Unwilling to tie his mace back to his belt while it is still covered in bug juice, he holds the weapon away from himself slightly as he walks. He does slip his shield into its place on his back to free up his left hand.

Sighing, Artor stared at his hands - hands that had until a few moments ago cradled the beaked head of the creature, hands now covered in gore from Mayhew's strike. Without looking up he spoke softly, "It kissed me, tasted blood and void..."

"It was messing with your mind," Mayhew says softly. "Some predators do that, they trick you and make you thing nothing is wrong as they eat you. The effect should fade."

He looks around trying to spot the aneen's tracks. "I think I know where the aneen is going. Care to join me?"

He begins moving North toward the location it looked like the aneen was heading toward.

---

OOC As he walks, he takes an Action for a Recovery. He puts 2 points into Might and 3 into Intellect.
  13:44, Today: Mayhew rolled 5 using 1d6+1.  Recovery.

Derrick looks at Artor with a confused expression. Not understanding the man's words, he is about to ask when Mayhew explains. Seeming to accept this explanation of events without question, Derrick instead begins to clean his weapon to the ichor by wiping it against a small shrub before tying it to his belt once again.

As Mayhew states his intent to look for the aneen again, Derrick turns his confused gaze on the strange person. "Did the creature not already eat the aneen? Perhaps I missed a sign on the ground. Tracking is not a true skill of mine." He gives another concerned look at Artor and waits to see what the other man will do before deciding for himself.

Taking an action for recovery and putting 2 points in Might. Derrick rolled 2 using 1d6+1. Recovery.

"From what I saw, the aneen was never here. It was traveling along a path north of here. To me it looked like it was heading toward a small cluster of tall grass, scrub trees and boulders that forms a protected area about a mile or so east northeast of the scouts camp."

He looks at Artor and shrugs. "I might be wrong, but I need to take a look. I don't think that creature would have eaten the synthsteel plates the aneen was carrying and I haven't seen any sign of them being dropped."

Looking to Derrick he says, "Feel free to head back to the scouts camp. But my team lost people getting this salvage, I can't just forget it."

Feeling the weight of events he turns slower than before. He heads toward where he hopes to find the aneen. Along the way, he brushes at the goo that covers much of him but just makes it worse. His fur is caked with dirt and goo. He smells bad. His clothing is certainly stained and the feather in his cap is a lost cause.

"Kisses fade, you say. They do not, they linger...", murmured Artor, finally gathering himself to crouch beside the corpse, his robes and bandages concealing much of the movement itself. He studied it for a moment, even as the others spoke of tracks and steel and sacrifice. One hand snaked out, reaching for the sisk at his belt to carve off one of the creature's hands and place it in a pouch at that selfsame belt.

Wiping the weapon, he stood and cast around for his glaive before turning to the other two, "I will come with you to the sacred grove the aneen seeks"

22:13, Today: Artor rolled 5 using 1d6+2.  Recovery. => Fully recovering his Might pool

Even one of the smaller claws of the beast is too large for Artor's belt pouch, but does fit in his pack.

The path to the sheltered area is reasonably clear and free of danger, although the going is slowed due to the deepening night.  Soon, a nearly-full moon breaks past the clouds on the eastern horizon and casts a pale bluish glow in the arid landscape.

As the trio advances closer to the rocks and low trees, a masculine voice calls out from ahead of them.  "Tarry a moment, explorers.  I would speak with you.  Remain as you stand, please."

Mayhew freezes in place. He tries to locate the source of the voice.

"Greetings," he says. "How can we help you traveler?"

"You presume much, Planned One.  I am merely observing and curious, as befits my nature."  The voice continues with pleasant confidence.  It seems to be emanating from within the sheltered circle, or perhaps from the top of one of the boulders.

"Step forth, curious one", called out Artor, even as the voice judged them from concealment, "I will stand, but not for one unseen"

If there is not a quick revelation, he is prepared to vanish and step aside

There is no movement from the sheltered area the aneen is believed to have run to, nor from any other direction, save for the erratic path of a moth as it flutters by and disappears again into the the night.

The voice continues.  "Will you take the sharp path of the northeast, Shadow Touched?  Will you risk the green path of the southeast?  How might you navigate the humming path of the west?"  There is a pause.  The silence stretches.  You can hear the grinding of the sand under your boots as you shift your weight.

"The Aix have no memory of your kind.  They require patience."

Perhaps a momentarily cloud that occluded the moon. Perhaps a shimmer in the nearby shrubs, or a swirl of void nielle. Either way, Artor vanished from sight

Derrick also stays stock still, standing next to Mayhew. He casts around in the dark for the source of the voice. At first his in not confident enough to speak as the conversation doesn't make much sense to him. Then the voice asks what path they are taking. "We are heading to the grove. That is the path we're taking." He resists the urge to pull his shield off his back.

"That is not your path two days hence, Guardian.  Your beast is safe and holds no interest for me."

Still, no figure emerges.  No illumination is provided.  No identity is revealed.

"I will visit you again.  Until then, explorers."  The statement sounds very much like a goodbye.  Only silence follows.

Derrick stands still for a moment in the silence and the darkness. After a moment he asks in a soft whisper: "Is it gone?" It is only at this point, as he turns his head still vainly searching for whatever it was, that he notices Artor's apparent absence. "Mayhew, Artor is gone. Did the voice take him?"

Unwilling to raise his voice much above a whisper, he calls out into the darkness. "Artor! Artor, where have you gone!?" At this point, he does pull his shield from his back, feeling more comfortable with the large piece of metal in front of him.

Pulling his cloak more filling to cover him, Artor spoke softly, “Fear not, I remain. Safe and Hale. Our interrogator has themself vanished however”

With a sigh, Mayhew looks around a bit then heads into the grove. "If he's gone, lets get the aneen. We can discuss this when we're in camp."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 02:20, Tue 16 July 2019.

Derrick relaxes when Artor replies and then grins in the vague direction where the whisper came from. "That's a pretty neat trick." He turns to follow Mayhew. In the failing light, he decides to let the local lead the way.

Nodding at Derrick's remark, Artor quickly caught up with them both. He walked with surety over the terrain, even in the moon's pale light, and kept an eye not only on the trail but their surrounds. His cloak was pulled tightly about him