As Opalia and Cora both moved up Arvid too swept in beside them trying to keep the fog at bay with his gale. Even as he focused the breath of the north wind upon their foe, he reached out and tried to rake the fog with his spectral arms.

Move to within 10' (Arvid has 10' reach)
1) Critical hit for 11 force damage
2) Hits AC 22 for 7 force damage
3) Hits AC 23 for 11 force damage
R) Sentinel strike hits AC 12, presuming a miss.

00:23, Today: Secret Roll: Arvid Signeson rolled 11,7,11 using 2d6+5,1d6+5,1d6+5.  Damage.

00:23, Today: Secret Roll: Arvid Signeson rolled 28,22,23,12 using 1d20+8,1d20+8,1d20+8,1d20+8.  Attack.

The fog evades Caell's sacred flame, parting to avoid the raining star fire and then coalescing again in its wake.

Not so with Cora's attacks. The Starbound Blade cleaved through the fog and dispersed it, rescuing Arvid and Opalia from the cold that threatened to engulf them.

Now that the immediate threat was past, there was time to focus on what exactly it had been. None in the party was much familiar with such arcana, but the best guess they could come to was that this was a lingering relic of the long-ago battle fought in these caverns, a consequence of magic cast by long-dead priests and shamans animated by the spirits of those who died here.

The battleground lay just around the next bend, where the floor of the cave was thick with the bones of the dead. This was in some ways a good thing, for there surely restless spirits lingering here to make it easier for Cora to open her portal.

Fog is defeated, so those of you who were going to use spells (I think just Sikuaq and Fergus) can save them.

Arvid's hands fell to his side and as they did so the windstorm ceased. "That was unsettling," he remarked. He took a steadying breath and trudged on around the bend, surveying the ancient battlefield in grim silence. At last he turned to Cora.

"What do you need us to do?"

Fergus took a breath to regain his composure after stumbling his way through the battle that just ended. His heart shuttled between pride and sorrow as he acknowledged Cora, his Little Mossflower, had somehow become the centerpoint of this entire ordeal. She wielded the Starbound Blade, and with it, she carried the hopes of the North. He wished she didn't have to endure such a burden, but trusted that Kann would guide her, along with all of them, in the hours ahead.

"We should rest," Fergus replied to Arvid. "We will need all of our strength for what's ahead."

As the spectral mist dissipated Opalia huffed out a breath that was visible in the frigid subterranean air.  She brushed the dusting of hoarfrost off her sash and boomed, "Never did OPALIA think to fight a FOG, but we did WIN, little friends!"


The giantess looked ahead to the trail of bones stretching around the bend and remarked, "OPALIA is strongest still, but we can have a rest.  The place ahead is grim of spirit, and we should be READY."  She turned a not-very-surreptitious glance toward Cora, hoping for some of her half-orcish friend's delicious snacks.  Otherwise, Opalia would spend the respite standing vigilant between her little friends and the bone-littered battlefield ahead.

---

Use Second Wind prior to rest to heal to full!  If rest is successful then regain it, but not going to presume that just yet :)
This message was last edited by the player at 08:15, Thu 03 Mar 2022.

Cora stopped as they neared the graveyard, looking at the whole scene before her, and then turning to the group

"It's a little odd, but we don't know what lies ahead. An hour to eat some food and gather ourselves . . . the time lost might gain us a win we're too tired to grab now."

OOC: Prepare Meals. As part of a short rest, you can prepare a tasty meal that helps your companions regain their strength. You and up to five creatures of your choice regain 1 extra hit point per Hit Die spent during a short rest, provided you have access to your cook's utensils and sufficient food.


Oats and simple foodstuffs came out as Cora struck a fire and set a pot to cooking, sparing some dried apple from her rations to plump up in the oats.

Fergus quietly enjoyed the oatmeal, thinking fondly of a time Darna and Cora baked mossflower pie back in Knutsdir. He remembered the smell (what a delicious smell!), but more than anything he remembered the sound of muffled giggling coming from the kitchen. It wasn't that many years, but it was a lifetime ago.

And there in the oppressive underground, on the eve of what he suspected may be a fatal encounter for himself, Fergus smiled. Somehow that little girl with mossflower all over her face had grown into the North's greatest hope. And even though she towered over him now, in his heart, she was still his little mossflower. Nothing Garduk could do would change that. And if Fergus was to expel his final breath on the other side of the portal, he would do so proudly with Cora and the others at his side.


Burning two hit die.
23:50, Today: Secret Roll: Fergus Glowforge rolled 8 using 1d8+4.  Short rest (+3 con +1 more for Cora's cooking!).
23:51, Today: Secret Roll: Fergus Glowforge rolled 6 using 1d8+4.  Short rest #2 (+3 con +1 more for Cora's cooking!).

You rest up and enjoy Cora's oatmeal without incident. Next steps? Seems like options are:

1. Cora attempts to open the gate on the outskirts of the battlefield (DC 8 Religion check)
2. You wade into the midst of the battlefield and attempt to open the gate there (DC 6)
3. Take some other actions to search/investigate the battlefield.

Sikuaq perked up significantly after Caell lent his healing powers, and the wholesome meal prepared by Cora was the perfect finishing touch.  The anatka stood refreshed afterward, having fully shaken off the chill touch of the mysterious fog.  Even her eyes cleared of the fire for a minute or so, before the embers edged back in again.

While they continued to eat and rest Sikuaq excused herself and sat to the side, cross-legged with her staff laying horizontally across her thighs.  With eyes closed she began to intone softly, her hands running along the length of the carved staff as she chanted.  It seemed she was preparing for the coming battle by communing with the staff, perhaps marshalling her magical strength to oppose Garduk and his forces.

The whole process took only a short while, but as she continued a noticeable change overcame the anatka.  Where the flames in her hair and eyes had slacked off since the temple, flickering with a gaseous blue as they made their way through the caverns and passageways toward the battlefield, now they changed colour again.  But not to the bright flames the others had seen initially, nor when Sikuaq retaliated against the fog; instead this time a deep reddish nimbus formed within her hair, as though her fiery energy was being banked against a future need and only required release to burst into open flames.  A pulsing heat emanated from her and late in her preparations, but only for a moment, one of the molten lava tentacles emerged and joined in caressing the staff.

When she finally opened her eyes again she seemed satisfied, and rose smoothly to rejoin the group.  "I am now ready for the battle.  But I am not certain the best way to harness the energy of this ancient battlefield."  She looked off where the ancient field of bones began and then disappeared into the darkness.  "We may need to search for the best place for Cora to conduct the ritual."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am good with a short search of the battlefield, but would prefer not to delay too long before heading to the Resting Place.  The Quinichiat need our help!  :)

Opalia enjoyed a generous helping of Cora's most delicious oatmeal, but nonetheless kept a vigilant eye on the spooky path ahead.

When all were rested, Opalia lit up another torch and held it aloft at the edge of the bone-littered battlefield.  The bright flame seemed tiny and weak against the vast darkness and ancient death.  In reply to Sikuaq the giantess declared, "Then we go to find the best ENERGIES for little CORA's work!  Do not fear, little friends, for OPALIA will go first so no spooky foes can pass!"  This place felt very troubling and full of malign spirit and the giantess knew she did not fully understand the dangers ahead, but what she DID know was that she would face them before any little friends.

Once all were ready, Opalia bravely blazed the path into the ancient battlegrounds with torch held out in front and with the guidance of any friends who claimed to know where to go!

---

Perception to keep aware of surroundings as we advance:

• 17:50, Today: Secret Roll: Opalia rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Perception.

The battlefield was too long abandoned to be grisly. What remained was not cut and bloodied flesh but a great field of skeletons, the bones piled so thick in places they were reminiscent of crops that had been cultivated and subsequently overgrown.

These bones were of orc and dwarf alike, which was a bit surprising, for one would expect that the dwarves, upon triumphing, would have returned to bury their dead. The answer to that mystery may have lain in the sticky black oozes that still crawled the battlefield, slowly scavenging what remained of those who had fought here, and most especially the living cloud of magical energy the party had already defeated.

Avoiding the oozes was not particularly difficult. Unlike the magical mist, they seemed content to scavenge the bones and leave the living unperturbed. Opalia's eye, in surveying the battlefield, did notice a few items of interest:

-The body of a dwarven hero, quite close to her large foot, still had several potions at his belt. Tragically, he did not have the opportunity to drink one before the battle claimed his life.

-A miniature golden chest with tiny emeralds lining the top that trace out an arcane sigil.

-An amulet, hung around the neck of an orcish skeleton, consisting of large yellow tooth on a leather cord.

-Furthest off, and directly in the path of one of the oozes, a slender brass staff had fallen from the hand of a dwarf. It was adorned with gold rings and a set of three gold wings reaching up at the top, spaced at equal distance from each other.

The potions Opalia could easily retrieve. The other items would entail risking the ire of the oozes, who seemed to have their gelatinous "eyes" on them as well. It might be possible to pilfer the chest and/or the amulet without causing trouble, but there would certainly be competition if she went for the staff.

This is just stuff that's on the battlefield. I'm posting it from Opalia's perspective because she rolled the Perception check, but anyone can attempt to grab any of these objects if they wish to do so. Let me know how you try to go about it and I'll ask for the appropriate roll.

Caell did not feel comfortable here at all. He feared their own bones might end up here, mixed with all the old ones, and he wasn't sure their eternal souls could escape this place. The voices of spirits of ancient warriors had followed him for some time now. There were many of them here.

When Opalia pointed out the items she spotted, Caell volunteered to retrieve those that weren't too heavy or tightly fastened. Of course, he wasn't really interested in valuables, but things that could be useful. The crown he wore on his head had been found in another place and had proven invaluable.

Using Mage Hand to retrieve item. Will start with the nearest thing.

Retrieving the potions proved trivial for the mage hand. There are three simple glass vials of what appeared to be the same viscous, purply-red substance and one more ornate bottle which, though also made of glass, was fashioned in the shape of a diamond. The liquid inside was a pale green, and the cork stopper must have been effective indeed, because the potion still bubbled when the bottle moved, suggesting it was still "fresh". The diamond-shaped bottle was engraved with a symbol that looked very much like a sword.

Could I get History checks from Cora and Fergus, please?

The chest and the staff both looked to be too heavy for the mage hand. The amulet might be doable, but it would require some finesse to get it off the orc's neck without attracting the attention of the ooze. While attracting the ooze would not lead to anyone getting attacked, it might lead to the body being subsumed, and the amulet along with it.

Caell, if you'd like to attempt this, please make a DC 12 Sleight of Hand check, and, if you fail, a Stealth check as well.

The quinichiat handed the items he retrieved back to the others. He had really no idea how to identify anything. The amulet looked trickly to retrieve, but Caell had surprising deftness in the use of this particular sort of magic.

"Staff and chest too heavy, I think." Caell said, giving a shrug.

Sleight of Hand result of 22.

Opalia was upset by the multitude bones littering this ancient battlefield, and the dry crunching that accompanied her every step.  She rumbled in a hushed voice that was still pretty loud, "So many did die here...  This was a VERY BAD fighting."  The giantess spotted a number of treasures in amongst the skeletal debris, but there were also BIG slimes that had an unwholesome look about them.  Caell retrieved a few of the smaller treasures with much magical cleverness while Opalia observed the slow-moving oozes to assess the danger they posed.

When Caell reported that the shiny staff and shiny chest were too heavy for his magical hand, Opalia assured the fellowship, "OPALIA can lift these EASY, but better not to provoke YUCK-SLIMES."  The giantess pondered in her ponderous way, then offered, "OPALIA will grab them if little friends think is best idea.  Perhaps we DISTRACT slimes to go away from treasures?"

Opalia listened to the opinions of her little friends and stood ready to help, whether by making a run for the chest and the staff herself, or to provide the distraction!

---

Spend the first minute after spotting a black ooze to use Know Your Enemy to determine if it is Opi's inferior, equal, or superior in Strength score and current HP (86).

Sikuaq nodded in approval as Caell deftly retrieved what items he could with his magic.  In such a large and ominous battlefield there were bound to be useful artifacts strewn about, items that would undoubtedly help in the upcoming battle.  The trick was retrieving the rest without unduly endangering themselves.

The anatka came up beside Opalia, the goliath dwarfing the tiny Quinichiat when they stood so close.  Sikuaq looked out at the remaining items Opalia had spotted and then mentioned, "I can cast a spell that will make us all but undetectable, just as I did in the tundra when we were sneaking around the Northmen lands.  That would give us a good chance of evading the notice of the oozes."

Sikuaq turned her head to look to Cora.  "Have you sensed where we need to be before invoking the sword's power?  If we are close, or if it doesn't make a difference, then we can try to retrieve these items and then be gone.  If we still need to search for the proper place to conduct the ritual, perhaps we should finish that search first and worry about these relics afterward, if it still seems worthwhile."

Fergus's spirit darkened as he surveyed the ancient battlefield. With each step upon the bone choked arena, he cringed, wondering what possible reward would have justified such horrible losses. The orc wars were not a foreign to him. His only son was lost in the early years of Gralen's most recent campaign, generations after the casualties now at his feet. He had come to terms with that tragic loss many years ago. But now, so far beneath the suffocating weight of the ground overhead, he considered not only the lives lost here, but all the others forever altered. Parents, children, lovers, wives. For every dwarven skull on this battlefield, there were countless more that mourned the loss.

Then he looked at Cora and realized that the losses were no less tragic for the orcs. Despite what he was taught at a young age, they too had families. Parents and children.

"This is a troubling place. Let's not dally here any longer than we have to."

22:52, Today: Secret Roll: Fergus Glowforge rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  History.

"Once we are cloaked I can retrieve the staff and the chest without difficulty I should think. Anything that has survived the ravages of time in this place is due our attention."

"But Fergus is right, once we've taken what we need from the battlefield we should be quickly on our way."

Fergus nodded slowly in apprehensive approval, but the surroundings still did little to placate him. "Be fast, Arvid. Then let's be gone from this place."

Cora drew the starbound blade, laying a hand along it and waiting close to Fergus

"So much . . . so much death. If the orcs truly were created for a purpose, how can it be this?"

It seemed that they would try to recover the remaining items Opalia had spotted, so Sikuaq nodded and began her preparations.  She stepped close to Arvid and confirmed her plan.  "I think a tiny owl would be best," she explained.  "I'll just rest on your shoulder, or in the top of your pack.  The spell lasts roughly an hour, so we have plenty of time."

When Arvid had planned out his route Sikuaq cast her spell, words echoing the Northern darkness dripping from her lips as she spun the magic about them.  When the shrouding was complete, she then refocused her mind and suddenly began to shrink in upon herself, her pale form growing even more so as she shrunk further and further into a nearly white ball.  Then in a sudden puff of feathers her wings spread out and a small snowy owl looked up at the group with its large golden eyes.  A couple of hopping steps and a flap of her wings and Sikuaq was airborne, circling silently on muffled wings until she alit on Arvid's shoulder.  When he looked at her there she adjusted her talons as gently as she could and bobbed her head twice, then looked out across the field of bones toward the first remaining item.

OOC:
Cast Pass without Trace on Sikuaq, Arvid.
Wild Shape into snowy owl, and practice for when Arvid becomes a northern pirate captain.  :)

Arvid nodded, signaling his readiness. The bonefield was treacherous footing but he trusted in his sure step and Sikuaq's magic to keep them safe from harm. The first item along their path was the chest. Once that was firmly secured in hand he was ready to move on.

Stealth 20 thanks to Sikuaq.
13:54, Today: Secret Roll: Arvid Signeson rolled 20 using 1d20+15.  Stealth.

Fergus looked into the eyes of his niece, "Oh Cora. I don't think they were created for one purpose any more than the rest of us were. Sure, some orcs are nasty savages, but the same might be said of any race. Dwarfs, humans. Even the elves, for all their grace, are a far cry from the perfection some people naively think they possess. Their ranks are filled with thieves and scoundrels just like the rest of us.

"These bones aren't you, Cora. They met their destiny in this god-forsaken chamber decades ago. Your own destiny awaits you somewhere else."

Fleet-footed Arvid, snowy owl perched upon his shoulder, picked his way through the field of dead. Bones carpeted the cave floor, but with the aid of Sikuaq's magic, the monk picked his way nimbly between them, never once setting them a-clatter with a careless step. With equal deftness, he hefted the chest. Nothing rattled inside as he did so, but he could not say whether that was because it was empty or because he took such great care in handling it.

Seeing the oozes unperturbed, he ventured nearer to them. They were plainly alive, but the Northman, having never seen their like, could not determine how, if at all, they perceived the world around them, for they lacked obvious organs of any kind. With little time to ponder the problem, he plucked the staff from the path of an advancing ooze. The gelatinous creature did not flinch, even when the staff seemed to come to life in his hands, a glass tetrahedron shimmering into sight in the space between the three wings at the top of the shaft. Arvid froze, holding his breath for an excruciating moment, but no woe befell him, and the ooze seemed as oblivious as ever. Risking a small sigh of relief, the triumphant monk stepped gingerly back to where his companions awaited him.

Upon Arvid's return, Fergus recognized immediately the four symbols carved into each face of the tetrahedron floating atop the newly-retrieved staff. They represented titles of nobility held by the staff's bearer, along with the crest of the Struthgirk clan, whose ancestral keep had so recently collapsed around the party.

The sigil formed by the emeralds atop the chest was not immediately recognizable to anyone, but perhaps with further inspection...

Anyone who wishes to investigate can make an Arcana check to attempt to identify the sigil. If there's anything else you'd like to do to inspect your new-found items, please let me know that as well.

While the others planned and executed a magical owl heist, Opalia remained on vigilant guard against whatever threats may come.  When Arvid and the owl-natka returned with shiny treasures she grinned and congratulated them, "A CLEVEREST deed, little friends!  These are very shiny treasures."  The giantess clapped Arvid on the back, patted the owl-natka gently on the head, then leaned down to shine torchlight on the ornate staff.  It was very pretty, but to Opalia's eye it looked dainty and ornamental and not good for fighting.

Having lost most of her interest in the staff, Opalia looked back out at the gloomy expanse of bones that stretched out in all directions.  She rumbled, "We should not linger too long.  This is a NOT-NICE place."  Glancing back at Cora, she asked, "Where do we go for best ENERGIES for little CORA?"