[The Sulphur’s Spit]

Cela’s grave warning hung heavily over the party as they gathered in The Sulphur’s Spit. The tavern clamored with frantic activity, as the villagers filled the tables, and Bathsheba barked orders to her staff. Excited chatter could be heard outside, but tonight was different. Every single man or woman in the Spit was more sober than a Cleric of Ilmater! News of Baleful Blackfang’s attack spread through Deadwater, and no one wanted to miss the emergency town meeting.

“Push the large tables together! That’s for our War Council.” Sheila ordered a few men to move the furniture. She looked at the spectators with an impatient frown. “Look, you’re welcome to attend the meeting. If you’re not working, though, keep out of our way! And you’ll not interrupt our meeting with any idle chatter! Wait until we open the floor for you!” Laredon added, “Don’t worry, Miss Sheila. Anyone with a mind for foolishness will find themselves warming the cell next to Benny!”

Seats at the table were prepared for everyone who faced the Dragon. All the town Healers worked diligently to heal any lingering injuries. A flurry of prayers, potions, Well water, and innate magic healed the wounds of many. Lenelle, Sprinkle, Telric, Sheila, Sundos, & Mercion wore themselves out, but desperation kept them too agitated to rest. None of them intended to miss the meeting, either. The Baron sent Michael Stuart, his most trusted aide to hear the party’s plans. Michael was a younger man in his late 20’s who stood tall and broad-shouldered, his face the sculpted coolness of a Nobleman, but his bearing that of a seasoned soldier.

Soon, the Sheriff brought the meeting to order. “You all know what happened earlier tonight. Some of you suffered in that accursed dragon’s attack. Many of us are old enough to remember the last time we dealt with a Black Dragon. Only the quick thinking of these heroes who’ve already done so much for Deadwater saved us from annihilation.” Laredon faced the heroes who sat at the Council tables. “You have already helped us so much, but we need your help again.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:53, Tue 08 Feb 2022.

Sprinkle sat at the table, awkwardly carrying two plates of the special of the day and 2 mugs of the local ale, before setting one of the meals in front of the seat to her right, reserving it for Tempest. She had chosen the location to put her sister nearer to the head as she knew how attention grabbing she could be in matters of war. And war this was going to be. Her burned skin was healing nicely, the lighter blue of the wounds would fade over time. She didn't intend to let that monster do harm again. Addressing herself to the man at the head, she nodded to Simon.

We were brought here to help, and help we shall. I have a score to settle with that shark's bait.

I propose we start where Azatch was killed. Seth, could you lead us there?

Gone was the slightly goofy cleric... there was work to be done and she could be as forceful as Tempest, when she wanted to.

Taking a sip of her ale, she touched her armor and casted mending, to fix the burned links. Tempest's armor would also get the same treatment... there was no time to indulge in her sister's time consuming endeavor. Even Tara's robe would benefit from her spell.

Tara was quite pleased with the repairs to her clothes, but this was a time for careful action, certainly.

"We must be ready in case of attack," said Tara.  "The beast might well swoop down on us from above again.  Let's be sure we don't line up and give him such an easy feast as all of us at once, this time."

Tempest entered the room, her pack with her shield strapped to it. Placing it in a corner, she went to the owner. "A room for myself and my sister please." She sees the movement of the tables and goes over, unstrapping her sword she placed her gear on the wall nearest her and sits as her sister places the food and ale down, nodding to her sister.

At the asking of help, she nodded as her sister spoke. "We will help."

She listened to Tara and spoke. "Is this the first time tho dragon has come here?" She took a sip of ale, and looking at it, nodded with approval., but then looked at Seth. "You said your kind have a connection to them...can you explain?"

Beijor walked directly to his room in the Spit, casting off his armor and destroyed shirt, and deciding on a sleeveless tunic with a purple sash for the rest of the evening.

He carried his bandore into the common room and set himself up near but not at the table. He could play quietly enough to not disturb anyone, though his tunes would be simple enough not to require his full attention; he was interested in what these folks had to say, after all.

Sskith blinked his eyes slowly at Sprinkle's request.

"I will lead you there, but traveling at night is dangeroussss. The Vutha's eyess pierce the darknessss, he could strike ussss from on high."

Fighting a Dragon out in the open was the surest path to a quick death. Fighting one at night, when it could strike at them well outside the range of their torches? That was so much worse. They could keep to the densest parts of the brambles and trees, and whisper words to the Matriarchs that it was enough. He paused at Tempest's question, knowing that he had long past chosen the path from which there would be no return. He took a long breath, and he spoke.

"Sesskrith the Divine issss, or wasss, the Patron God of my people. We were hisss warriorssss, his Chosen."

He gestured to the small Dragon at his side, which hissed at the crowd.

"Thissss is an Echo of Sesskrith, an Echo of me."

They would not know the pride with which he said that, or what it meant. It would not matter.

"I came here to sssit at the feet of your Matriarchssss, and hear the storiesss they would tell of Sesskrith. Inssssstead, I found only signsss of his passsssing, and of what he hasss left behind."

A Hatchling, twisted by fey magics into a weapon the Hags could use against Deadwater.

[The Sulphur's Spit]

Simon trailed the rest of the group into the Sulphur's Spit. He reached out to Nimbus, [Telepathy: Watch the direction where the dragon laired, and warn me if it approaches.]

When he entered and saw the tables and the many locals gathered around them, he groaned inwardly. Nonetheless, he was famished and needed to eat.

"Bathsheba," he calls to the tiefling, "dinner please, and a mug of tea."

The warlock takes a seat at the Council table, but he sits at the far end. Laredon's request for help was as expected. As was the affirmative responses from his companions.

Simon's eye brow rises slightly as Seth revealed his relation to Baleful's ancestor. ~Very brave...or very stupid!~ he thought to himself.

"I don't believe," the warlock pauses as he confirms which twin spoke, "Sprinkle...was suggesting we leave immediately, as you are no doubt correct Seth, travelling the swamp in the dark would be foolhardy.

There is reason to believe there is a tunnel near the hag's tree leads to the dragon's lair. That seems like the logical place to start our hunt, in the light of day."

Simon takes a sip from his mug, and then looks down the length of the table, "Mister Stuart, what assistance is Baron Lederborn planning on providing?"
This message was last edited by the player at 06:33, Wed 09 Feb 2022.

[The Sulphur's Spit]

Having finally regained control of himself after the dragon's attack, his literal death, subsequent resurrection, and then the terror of being in the dragon's presence, Grog entered the tavern. Though the healing magics he had received had sealed wounds and removed pain, patches and swaths of his fur had been burned away and not restored, and some scarring had settled into his skin as well, making him a more dreadful sight to behold than he had been previously. Discussions were already underway, so he quietly went to get food and drink. His large hands made it easy to carry two plates of food and 2 mugs of the local ale, then he went to find a seat opposite the water-woman who had grasped his spirit by the throat and forced it back into his body. He set the plates and mugs down in front of him, hoping a light snack and a thirst quencher might help to alleviate some of the lingering pain.

He wasn't dead for long, yet death had changed him still. His outlook on the world had shifted somewhat. His priorities, too. He had died standing still. Doing nothing. It was nearly the most worthless and pointless death he could imagine. Things would need to be different in this new life. Grog looked up from his meal, at the exotic creature sitting opposite him; the one who had given him this new life. ~Yeah. Different.~ Grog drank half of one of the mugs of ale, then dug around in his pack for a jug that he then pulled out and poured into the mug until it was full once more.

Grog was going to see this dragon dead one way or another. He wasn't smart, but he, ~Hmm. Ale mix good.~ Grog set his mug down with a refreshing, "Ahh," and then made a simple statement, "Acid is problem. Stop acid, maybe live. Not, maybe not."

tepest listened to the tactics going around, little more than hunches as she listened. Looking at the group, she spoke. "My sister and i have not been on teh surface much, so our knoledge of your dragons are limited.  We know this one favors acid, something my sister and i are naturally resistant to. But, you all do not have this as our..." she frowned as she looked at Grog. "...cow-man friend here has pointed out. To fight a dragon, we need every advantage, so sneaking in half-chickened isn't going to help us."

She looked around. "My specialty back home was tactics....to help i need to know what this thing can do - can it cast magic, or call fourth anything other than acid.  I also need to know what each of you can do."

Sprinkle nodded to Tempest words then gratified the crowd with her brightest smile.

But we do have a means to counter the acid now. Telric and Tara developed a salve that will protect from acid, for some time. Used judiciously, it would negate some of the sting that overgrown flying fish has.

Her smile faded somewhat.

It will still hurt, don't get me wrong, I would prefer to swim in the middle of an angry stingrays mating melee than to face that breath again. But it will help.

Turning to Seth she said in her watery voice.

I was not suggesting to go tonight. I, we, don't see in the dark very well. And I need to replenish my strength, casting that resurrection spell took a lot out of me. But first light would be good, we don't want him to lick his wounds too much.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:32, Wed 09 Feb 2022.

Unlike a number of the others, War was foreign to Lenelle Toreth.

In the place she'd grown up, it had been the better part of a century since the last one, owing to Gold Veil's location and its tight allegiance with the duchy of which it was part.   It had never been more than either history or fable in her life, certainly nothing she'd ever needed to think about in other than an academic sense.

She was out of her depth, as far as strategizing for one went.   But that being the case or no, she would still put in her thoughts where she felt they might be relevant:

"Are we counting on the fact that the dragon is injured, and will stay put for a time?   Because one thing comes first to my mind ---  the vulnerability of Deadwater, and its people.    If I were this dragon, I would not sit out in the swamp, waiting for us to come finish it off.    I'd probably marshal my forces to meet us en route, then just fly over that battle, and attack the town.   Seth has told us over and over just how devious this creature is.  I believe him! I've a hard time imagining it being a sitting duck, therefore.    But...there is the tunnel that Simon mentions, which might be the key to avoiding anything like that.   Are we assuming the dragon is ignorant of the tunnel?" She looked to Simon.

"Is that possible, Simon?  It could truly be a godsend, if so. But if so, then time is of the essence, before it heals enough to take action.   If we journey through a tunnel, then night or day should make no difference, right?"    Whereupon she glanced toward Seth as well.

"Though there would be travel time to reach it.  But I believe more than myself knows the spell of invisibility?"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:40, Wed 09 Feb 2022.

"Made with the essential assitance of Lady Sprinkle, of course." Telric tipped his headdress in her direction. "And she is also right about needing rest. My staff is nearly out of power, and won't be of much use without about 8 hours rest. Not to mention I have about one more use of Higgins before he powers down.

I should say I may not have invisibility, but I do have the ability to rip a dimensional hiding place that lasts about an hour. The wizards call it rope trick. It might be useable by someone with invisibility in order to hide the rest of the group."

Beijor struck a loud discordance on his bandore and spoke up for the first time.

"As our Mistress Icicle can attest," with a wink at Tempest, "I have a delightful talent for grasping others' attention and making it very difficult indeed for others to pull themselves away. I wouldn't worry about Bluntfang passing over us; dragons' egos are invariably their most vulnerable spot.

"Then again... I am born of wood and stream and more at home there than I am within these walls. And who knows what fae spirits dwell in the hagwood that may ask me to frolic and willingly aid our purpose? Perhaps I should bivouac abroad to keep an eye out for our ebony antagonist while you recuperate; my new saurian companion can join me. How far away did you all say this tree was?"

He began to play but got no further than a measure when he stopped as if realizing something. "Besides, I might be safer out there, lest I cause other proud and fierce creatures take an interest in violence against my delicate person." Another wink and a sly kiss for Tempest.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:33, Wed 09 Feb 2022.

[The Sulphur’s Spit]

Lord-lieutenant Stuart watched the strangers dominate the conversation with a shrewd arch of an eyebrow. Finally, he spoke up in a deep baritone pleasing to the ears. “The Baron’s priority is the safety of this Barony and her people. He remains convinced that dealing with the Lizardfolk problem will coincide with a resolution for the Dragon problem. Of course, the soldiers conscripted to protect His Lordship must remain in the village to ensure his safety.”

Lord-lieutenant Stuart’s mouth twitched slightly when he said so. “However, I am allowed discretion in how I dispense his orders. I also traveled the Realm enough to know an Artificer when I see one. Meet with me before your march. I have something that should correct your imbalance of power with the accursed Dragon.”

“I am certain that we will gratefully accept whatever aid you might offer, Lord-Lieutenant,” Mercion said with a polite smile. “As for those who travel to face Baleful Blackfang, I recommend a night’s rest. Telric reminds us that several of us need rest for our Gifts to fully function. We cannot afford to face a Dragon at less than peak health and power.”

"I think the bard is writing a song about it if you need to know.

Some here can't see in the dark, either.  No use getting lost in the swamp traveling in the dark.  Spending the night to rest and recover makes sense."

“Cela, as ever, you bring a pragmatic voice to our conversation.” Sundos spoke from his place beside Mercion. “Like me, she is also seasoned in warfare. Whatever we decide, I would recommend you all heed her counsel, too.”

He looked at Stuart. “If I remain behind, I can rally the watchmen into an organized defense. We need not be utterly helpless should the wicked Beast return.”

Sskith's eyes narrowed at the words "Lizardman problem," but he held his forked tongue.

"I'm a scholar of magic," said Tara.  "Well.  Y'all know.  A wizard.  Witch.  Whatever you want to call it.  I know some useful spells.  I'm trying to learn more.  And... well, the dark doesn't really bother me that much.  Acid, though..."

It was perhaps odd that someone who looked as human as she wasn't worried by the dark, but then, wizards had many tricks...

Tempest looked at the bard with an even, cold glare, but nodded. "I have to concede....the fool can talk, and whoever it's aimed at tends to get, at the very least,  distracted."

She took a drink. 'I know whenever he talks I want to punch him in the face." She turned to look at him...he had no idea if she was joking.

She looked at the group. "Given its attack, I'm guessing it's lacking its wounds. While it was still strong, I'm guessing that it didn't realise we would hurt it that bad."

"While ordinarily I would press the advantage, this beast is strong and it hurt us in its surprise. We need to rest and prepare."

When the bard again looked at her, she sighed, whispering to her sister. "Can I.....please?"

Grog shook his head and held up a halting hand, "No. I used be a cow-boy. Then I get big. Now, minotaur! Minotaur is word. No cow-man."

Having caught Tempest's attention, he motioned with his horned head toward a large glaive standing near the entrance, "I'm Grog. I hit stuff." He then pointed out the runes adorning his armor, "Giant's runes, to burn and to bind. Or I make me grow big. Big, big." The minotaur pulled back his shoulders and puffed out his chest, then lifted his arms out to his sides a bit to indicate he was growing larger, "Is more big. Big, big."

"Unfortunately, the opposite Lenelle. Murky...Connie...damn it all...the hag in the jail believes that Irma and the dragon used a tunnel to move from one lair to the other. I would hazard that is how it got so close to town without being seen in the sky."

"That, Mister Stuart is the best that I could hope to hear."

The warlock finished his dinner, surprised at how fast he had wolfed it down.

"To be clear...Tempest," again Simon had to confirm which twin had spoken, "Grog is an extraordinary minotaur warrior. His command of rune magicks and his battle prowess was key to our victory over the hags' guards.

As to the other point, I agree completely!"

The warlock then stood, and addressed the group sitting around the Council table. "I have some information that I would like to share in private. I propose, with Mercion's permission, that we move to the Temple . We can also plan our tactics for tomorrow, with less distraction than here in the tavern."

Jennet walks into the tavern, carrying a large basket. "What are we doing at the Temple tomorrow?" As the good folk of the town stare at him blankly, he stares blankly at them in return. "Is it a surprise? Am I not invited? I brought muffins!"

He sets the basket on the Council table.

It is, indeed, full of muffins.

They smell delicious.

Tempest looked at Grog, then Simon. "I am sorry,  have not heard of...min-a-tar?" She furrowed her brow, then looked at Grog. "I don't doubt your prowess....you are big and look like you could lift an orca! I have lived underwater most of my life - this is my first night in this - imm?"

She looked at Sprinkle for confirmation, then back at Grog. "Your skill in fighting may match mine  though I have no skills in these 'runes', but I do have certain techniques I can use."

She took a bite of the food, her obvious surprise in the food.

Tara considered.

"The tunnel may be our best place to fight the dragon," she said.  "It's going to force us to stay close, and more vulnerable to the acid, but the dragon won't be able to fly-- and that's even worse than the acid."

Telric starts handing out anti acid paste to the entire group. Except for the two sisters already resistant to acid. "Try to use these just before facing the dragon. They should last a good while, but it's most effective after just applying it. You dont need to cover your whole body for it to protect you, just rub into any large section of skin like your neck or arms."

Of course, then he takes a muffin. He takes another one when he thinks no one is looking. "Thank you." He says  to Jennet between bites.

Cela takes a muffin.  "We're killing a dragon." she says.

She takes a bite.  "These are really good."

Cela looks at the salve.  "Is this going to get stuck in my fur?"
This message was last edited by the player at 15:19, Thu 10 Feb 2022.

In reply to Cela (msg # 27):

"Ummm...a little? It soaks right in. You just need to insure its absorbed into your body so you get full skin coverage against the acid. Not as convenient as a potion, but it does work." Telric admitted.

"I see.  That does make a great amount of sense."  Lenelle eyed the muffins dubiously.

"Perhaps silence spells would be helpful, in the approach, if anyone is able?"  She glanced at Sprinkle, recollecting that one was usually attributed to clergy and priestesses.   And glanced at the muffins again.

"Thank you so much," she said when handed the anti acid paste. "I think many of us would be goners without this."     She reached tentatively for a muffin.   Ceased. And then completed the gesture.

Not because they didn't smell good.  But because she didn't have what centuries hence would be known as a 'high burning metabolism.'   At had to work a bit at keeping her weight where she liked it.  Be that as it may:

"Mm, so good!  Thank you Jennet!"

Grog's chest swelled again, with pride this time, and he gave a grunt and a nod to Simon in acknowledgement.



"Is not problem. Learns new words is good. I can lift many okras. I was farmer, then was warrior. Okra is good for make poops, then is good for make fires. Is good vegable."



Normally, the only exposed skin that existed on Grog's body was the palms of his hands themselves. Thanks to the dragon's acid however, he now had a great deal of exposed skin, which also exposed some of the tattooing that was normally not visible at all beneath his fur. Runes not unlike those on his armor were tattooed onto the exposed parts of his arms, neck, and torso. "This very good, Teric. With this, we kill a dragon."

Sprinkle slightly shook her head at her sister's whisper, and whispered back.

Keep your strength for the dragon, now is not the time to antagonize anyone... we just arrived, remember?

She smiled when Grog described what he could do then could not suppress a laugh when he confused one of the most feared predator of the sea... with a vegetable.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make fun of you. An Orca is a big predatory whale that could cut you in half with one bite.

Looking around the big room, she added.

In fact, I'm not sure if we could fit two in this room... maybe small ones.

Those muffins that the greenish skin person had brought did smell good, so she took one and examined the pastry as Lenelle looked at her and talked about a silence spell. Putting the muffin on the table, she said.

I am still not sure how my spells come to me but I will try to find the effect you ask for.

Only then did she take a bite, eyes widening as she tasted the unknown treat.

"There's a dragon in the Temple?" replied Jennet, turning a paler shade of green. "We should chain the doors shut and burn it down, and then pray to the gods for forgiveness."



Despite the looming threat of the dragon in the Temple, Jennet beams. "I made them myself!" His expression grows sober again. "Dragon in the Temple, right. The salve will wash right out of your fur, but the longer you wear it, the more it'll dry it out and thin it out. If we survive, I can make a cream that'll make it better, and keep it lustrous and shiny."

"Dragon, right. Dragon. What are we going to do about the dragon? How did it get stuck in the Temple, anyway?"

"No, not the temple.  And... aren't dragon's fireproof?"

Cela listens about making her fur more lustrous and just says "I probably need to just stop trudging through swamps."

“We have no time for your foolishness,” Sheila hissed, as she gave Jennet’s back a light swat while she walked past. “Take the cotton from your ears and stick it in your mouth! Listen before you speak!”
This message was last edited by the player at 21:00, Thu 10 Feb 2022.

In her head, Lenelle was beginning to accumulate a small list of questions she wanted to ask these sisters.  More so this one, as she was the spell worker.  She knew tiny little about the planes beyond this one, and the beings that inhabited them. But believed that the way they evoked magic was more similar to herself, if she had heard right.

This wasn't the time or place, but she responded to Sprinkle:

"It is like that for me as well, though I cannot find an effect.  I must work with what I know how to do.   Most of my spells, I heard the words whispered in dreams before I was able to cast them."   

Tempest looks at Grog and him talking about okra, some vegetable that helped make him poop. She was confused how the mix up occurred - such analogies at home were common.

When sprinkle explained, she was satisfied, and when the muffins were placed on the table, she took one, sniffed and took a bite. Her eyes wide, she nodded, speaking with her mouth full. “These moofins are great…so tasty.”

She continued eating, taking the shine from her seriousness as she ate the muffin lie a child eating a sweet

[The Sulphur’s Spit]

While a few enjoyed muffins and talked spell work, the townsfolk grumbled when Simon suggested moving the meeting. “Why do you need a private meeting? What will you talk about that you cannot say here?” Simon saw the speaker, but several added their voices in protest before he could reply. The tavern soon filled with worried and angry shouts.

Then, Laredon called the meeting to order. “Quiet, now! QUIET!” The large man bellowed over the complaining people, who soon quieted again to a soft murmur. “I said I would arrest any who disrupted this meeting, and I MEAN it! Be quiet or you’ll do your whining in a cell! I’ll brook no more foolish distractions, this is grave business here!” The Sheriff glanced pointedly at Jennet when he said the last part, then continued addressing the assembly.

“Simon and his companions have protected you all three times now.  The last happened this very night! In Pelor’s name, surely we trust them by now? We ask for a smaller meeting to plan the best course of action to protect Deadwater.” A few grumbles, but most of the crowd nodded in acknowledgement of truth spoken.

Sundos stood. “Brothers & Sisters, whatever we decide, I will make haste in sharing with you. I will remain behind to organize a defense of the town.” He hesitated as he glanced at Mercion, then added, “I trust that I will remain with a few good men and women to protect you all.” Mercion frowned, but kept her thoughts to herself. “Yes. We will not leave the town vulnerable to another attack. If you find this agreeable, Lord-lieutenant, perhaps now would be a good time to reconvene in the Temple? Of course, you are most welcome to join us.”

Soon, the assembly dispersed. Mercion directed those who would be in attendance uphill, gathering a far smaller group in the main chapel. Before the trek uphill, Laredon stopped Jennet. “If you mean to be of use and do more than warm a bed at the Spit, I would advise you to take this matter seriously! Stop walking around with your head in a fog, and offer more substantial help than…a basket of muffins!”

"Better some salve in your fur that to have it all burned off by acid," said Tara, "And the skin beneath it, too.  We must take utmost care with this."

Sskith didn't know what a muffin was, and so he remained focused on the discussion of tactics.

"The Vutha usually roost in the sssswamp, under the water. Any tunnel they ussssed would be ssssubmerged. An even worse place to face them than the ssssky."

He looked about at Lenelle and the others.

"We sssshould leave at firssst light."

“The Wonduh Twins here breathe underwatuh, right?” Pockets asked as he finished off a mug he’d snuck from the Tavern, “Sorry, Mercion. It’s been that kinda day.”

After listening to Seth, Sprinkle turned to Tempest.

Then I guess it is going to be our job to bring him to the surface, where you can attack him.

If the genasi was nervous at the prospect it didnt show in her voice.

But her hand slightly shook when she reached for another muffin...

"I know that a spell to let folks breathe underwater exists," said Tara.  "I haven't been able to figure out how it works.  Yet."

"They're only immune to what they breathe. I've been treating acid burns all day, and someone's handing out acid salves... fire should be juuust fine--" Jennet's eyes gleam in the firelight "-- unless our dragon has another little dragon friend."



"Gee, Sheriff, I'm sorry my healing isn't substantial enough for the good people of Deadwater." Is he being sarcastic? Jennet isn't smart enough for sarcasm, is he? Is he? "If I'm not pulling my own weight, I hope going into the swamp and burning that dragon down for you makes up for it. Especially since nobody's even asked me to warm their bed for them. Do you think maybe I should start asking people who needs their bed warmed for them? No, no. We need to take care of the dragon first, Sheriff. Deadwater's cold and empty beds shall have to wait for our return!"

Tempest listens to Seth and sighs at sprinkles observation. "Lucky I'm the faster swimmer....I'll give you a head start." She had no outward changes other than a grim look on her face.

She looked at the clerics. "Do you have any weapons I can use underwater...a spear or trident?"

“A ‘Healer’, eh? I saw Lenelle and Telric and the charming blue lass and Sheila and the Priests hard at work treating the injured. I don’t remember seeing you, though! Weren’t you busy baking your muffins?  I thought you were taking up a career as the town Baker! The way you gallivanted with the basket makes me wonder!” Laredon harrumphed and sought out the leaders of the party.

Mercion and Sundos spoke quietly amongst themselves, as Lord-Lieutenant Stuart sat on a pew and watched the group. When the Clerics broke from their huddle, Mercion looked somewhat flustered. “Simon, you & Lenelle seem to hold leadership positions in your party. Why don’t you work with Seth & Tempest, and plan a strategy to deal with the Dragon. Sundos will remain here with Pockets, and rally the town watch with Laredon. Sheila will place protective wards at the gates. Tempest, Sheriff Laredon can provide you with a spear. Do you need any additional aid when you march, Simon, Lenelle…?”
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:24, Fri 11 Feb 2022.

Lenelle looked more than a little surprised. "Sister, I do appreciate the vote of confidence, but...since when? I could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times they've listened to anything I've said,"  she laughed slightly, then instantly sobered.

"Pardon me. Nonetheless, I'll contribute whatever I can. I can think of no additional aid for the moment, but may be overlooking something Simon will think of."

[The Sulphur's Spit]


Simon's eyes roll as the half-orc strolls into the common room at the Spit. Nonetheless, he grabs a muffin on his way out the door.

"Thank you, Telric. Tell me will it be effective underwater?"

Simon was still standing, and looked to answer when Laredon shouted out and quieted the group. The warlock nodded in agreement with the Sheriff's words, and did not add to them.

"You have confirmed what I suspected, Seth. This fight will likely be on the dragon's terms."
Simon almost chokes on the piece of muffin in his mouth. And before he can protest Lenelle is already doing the same!

"And you think they listen to me any more!" The warlock laughs out loud. "Mercion, this a group of headstrong individuals who choose their own path at every moment. Combined with these strangers who have appeared in the last few days.

The idea of leading them is preposterous. The best we can hope is to herd them in the right direction!"

As the group leaves the inn and heads toward the Temple, Simon listens to them discussing the need for water breathing spells or perhaps the twins being used as bait.

"People!" he calls to get the group's attention. "Since returning from the battle with the hags, Sarraamosh has been kind enough to endow me with an...invocation...let's call it...that will allow me to breathe underwater indefinitely, and I will be able to provide the same to ten others for a full day. I expect this will remove the need to use Tempest and Sprinkle as worms on a hook!

So the breathing part is covered, but there is still the problem of vision, movement, and the effect on spells and weapons."

Before anyone can reply, he adds, "And there is still the issue I want to discuss in private, which will wait until we are in the Temple."

In reply to Simon (msg # 47):

"Once it is absorbed into your skin, it will effect the entirety of your body for a limited duration. You must apply it before swimming however, but it will only take a few moments to go into effect." Telric says to Simon.

Sprinkle brought her bag in front of her and opened a side pocket, taking a small lantern, fashioned of the same greenish material as her armor, decorated with marine figures. She opened it and a bright flame shined inside, without giving any heat or smoke.

I created this when the sea elves would not allow us to keep the glow globes that we grew up with. It will not extinguish under any circumstances... well until I dispel it. Tempest also has one. Like I said, we don't see very well in the dark, and the depths are very gloomy.

She closed the door, masking the ever burning flame inside.

That should help a little with the lighting.

Fire that didn't burn? Grog wasn't sure if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard of, or the most brilliant. He stared at the bag while it was open, then for a moment longer after it was closed. He couldn't make up his mind, so he kept his mouth shut, "To the temple, then."

Tempest nodded at Sprinkle's admission of the lanterns. "I have also had a little training in fighting in darkness - Not as good as some of the elves back home, but could still hold my own."  She looked at Grog and Simon at the request, grabbing her gear, ready to go to the temple

Grog picked up the massive glaive beside the door as he headed out, and saw Tempest was there behind him, "I see in darks, but no always good. If dark is magic, is no no good. I can try kill," Grog shrugged, "maybe get a lucky, but still no see."

"Magical darkness is dangerous, but I know a trick that sometimes helps," said Tara.  It wasn't much of a trick, but it did, generally, work-- it was hard to keep a spell up when getting pelted with multiple hits.

Cela holds out her hand and extends the claws.  "I should be fine for weapons, and can see with very little light."

Sskith needed them to understand. He sought to craft his words as best he could.

"To fight the Vutha within the water issss death."

He eyed the two blue skinned ones. He could hold his breath for a thousand beats of his heart, but he would never claim that he could breath water. Could these two truly do such a thing?

"Sssssee yourself fighting in a cloud ssooo thick you can barely sssee before you, yet he can hunt you. There is no worsssse place to be. You would be prey, nothing more."

[The House of The Sun Father]

Once the group was settled into the temple, Simon stepped to the front.

"We have to come up with strategies and tactics to battle the dragon. And we have to deal with mundane things, like keeping books and scrolls dry if we end up travelling underwater.

But that can wait a few minutes. I need to discuss Murky Constance Toadtwitcher, the hag known as Connie.

Along with Tempest and Beijor, I visited her earlier today, and we managed to gain some information from her.

She confirmed that Baleful Blackfang is the offspring of Byrsiss Blackfang, the dragon that Mercion and Pockets helped to defeat. And that dragon was the offspring of another dragon that over a century ago was defeated by an elven warrior. It was that first dragon that held sway over a tribe of Lizardfolk in the northeast."

Simon's eyes shifted to Seth for a moment.

"She also said that a tunnel must lead from their tree house to the dragon's lair.

Simon took a deep breath before continuing. "She gave us this information as a down payment of a sort, on having her life spared. The final payment was to be details about Granny Grimfiddle and the Abattoir.

You know full well that I want to see her dead. I wouldn't believe there is a speck of redeemable good in her; but I also saw her reaction when Tempest threatened to kill Elise. It was the same as any mother; as much as it repulses me to say so.

If she can provide us with useful information on Grimfiddle and the Abattoir, then she may have earned a respite from a death sentence.

So, I have a question for all of you: Do you agree with the course of action I have taken with the hag?

And a second question for the casters and clerics. I know that creatures can be banished from this plane of existence...but I do not have the ability. Is there a way, if Murky is spared, to banish her?

I apologise for the lengthy lecture, but it is important that we all know."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:36, Sun 13 Feb 2022.

Lenelle nodded emphatically. "This is what I was thinking.  For most of us, being able to breathe water doesn't make us able to move and fight within it.   Especially not bedecked with armor, weapons, and all sorts of equipment!  I may be missing something, and I deeply apologize if so.  But that just sounds crazy to me." 

Then addressing Simon's information, she sighed.  "Thank you for that, Simon.  You three did an exemplary gaining information we must have, I think.   And yes, I agree -- if she can tell us about this other threat, then it is worth sparing her life for.  Though she must be carefully guarded and watched.  With that watch supervised by either Mercion or Sundos.  Because the guards here have no idea what they're dealing with. She has bought time for herself, and will surely try her damndest to make use of it." 

"And while I cannot personally advise you on the banishment of fiendish entities, I do remember that Sister Mercion said she knows the spell for that, and could send a Hag back in that manner." 

In reply to Simon (msg # 56):

"In regards to the Hag, as I was not there at the time, I think my thoughts on the matter would be irrelevant. I will go along with whatever the group decides." Telric says while nodding.

"As for banishment...perhaps. That is a powerful spell, one I cannot cast myself. However, I can research a ritual that may be able to do the same thing. That would take time, and we may not have that much time to spare. Lenelle's idea may be best."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:04, Sun 13 Feb 2022.

Mercion nodded at Lenelle. “Yes, Lenelle. I know a spell that banishes a foe into an otherworldly dimension. If I cast the spell against a target of extraplanar origin, then that creature would return to its own realm.” She watched Simon as she shared her knowledge.

“Simon is not the only one among you who feels strongly about delivering Justice to Connie. Certainly not the only one in town who cries out for vindication. Connie would return to the Feywilds if I banish her. Witches, like most beings, may be good or evil. Sheila and Tara help the sick and defenseless as White Witches. Hags are the most hateful and evil kind of Witch known.

Will returning Connie to her own plane end her threat, or merely provide her respite to plot further schemes? I would comfortably banish her with no reservation if we could ensure that she would trouble Deadwater or any innocents no more. As far as I know, only a Geas or Wish could compel on a permanent basis…”

“I saw her Evil firsthand. Simon, you have exceeded expectation in uncovering valuable information. However, I agree with your primary instincts. None in Deadwater will be truly safe until that Hag is dead.”

Lenelle nodded, feeling somewhat foolish for having forgotten, "That's right.  Sending her back only gives her more time and resources to work with." She sighed.  "Executions are not to my taste. But they serve a real purpose sometimes; she and her sisters had no bounds or mercy for their victims.  Even innocent children were preyed on by them."

“If you spare Connie, perhaps I could see my little girl again?” Miriam Greaves entered from the hall, looking thinner and paler than when the group first encountered her. She ambled with an uneasy gait, as if she’d spent too much time bedridden and was rediscovering use of her legs. “What you told me can’t be true. Connie was my friend. Surely she did not murder my Elise.”

Miriam spoke in a reedy voice that sounded almost dreamy. She wore a simple white dress and slippers. Her dark hair showed new gray lines, as if she’d aged in mere days since the party returned. Her dark eyes were lined with rings of muddy-looking smudges. Something about Miriam rankled Cela’s acutely sensitive nose.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:31, Tue 05 Apr 2022.

Although this woman had been something of a hindrance, at several junctures, as well as a source of sourness, Lenelle's heart went out to her.

How could she accept the truth, when it was so completely awful?   Plainly, she was having a very hard time with it.

Lenelle did not feel she was the one to help her through this.  Instead, she looked in silent appeal toward Mercion and Sundos.

An unpleasant thought then struck her...Connie was my friend...

When had that changed so dramatically? Was it perhaps induced? Was the Hag trying to make use of her...somehow?

Edited this one to account for what Simon reminded me of.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:06, Mon 14 Feb 2022.

The concerned Clerics approached Miriam. “Sister Miriam, we discussed this,” Mercion said gently. “Yes, Miriam. The truth is terrible, yes, but you must try to…!” Sundos reached out, but stopped short, a look of revulsion that he failed to hide. Mercion almost gagged, but caught herself. “Oh, Miriam. No.”

The Genasi was discussing quietly with her sister, about Tempest threatening the life of a child during the interrogation when some pale woman came in. She didn't know her and it didn't seem like a danger so she pushed her to the back of her mind. There was more important thing to think about, until the disgusted cries of the landbound clerics attracted her attention again toward that little group.

What is it?

Looking at the pale woman, she tried to determine if she needed an healing or attack spell...

Today: Sprinkle rolled 17 using 1d20+6.  sprinkle perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Mon 14 Feb 2022.

When Simon spoke up, Tempest became strangly quiet, looking a little more unsure of herself. The warrior was skilled in tactics, trained to find weakness in the enemies, and when faced with the hag, she found hers.

But in doing so, she pushed her own morals to the limit, doing something she thought she would never do - something she dreamed would never happen.

...threaten a child's life.

Even the thought made her sick, and the muffin she held, half eaten, she put down. She looked at the group as she spoke softly.

"For teh record for all who don't know me, which is pretty much everyone, I would never harm a child. Simon and the loud mouth who thinks he's funny saw something that even i didn't want to see."

She lowered her head, the shame on her face. "Even to threaten a child in such a deception is beyond what i thought would ever happen, and to all of you, i apologize. I had my goal in sight, and forgot my own limitations."

then when the cleric's hesitated, her sorrow was gone, and back was the warrior and defender, on the edge of her seat.

Grog drew in a deep breath and let it out as a half-sigh, half-grumble, "When you live in a farm, there is many working to be done. Plant, animal, always need foods, need waters, always working to do. In a farm, always you can find spiders. Some spiders you kill, or they kill animals. Or they kill you. Some spiders can kill animals, but not want kill animals. Danger spiders that not want kill animals. These nice danger spiders; still danger, still can kill, but not want. In a farm, we let nice danger spiders live, because nice danger spiders kill other spiders what do want kill."

"Same is for snake, and same is for murder puppy. You let one danger live to help fight other danger. Better is for have a danger you know than danger you not can control. Right now, we needs kill a dragon. If hag knows how we kill a dragon, then hag gets still be alive tomorrow. I will do a burying for children, then we kill a dragon, then I have a talking with hag. Maybe hag become nice danger spider. Maybe hag no get still be alive."

"I can understand how you must feel," Lenelle said to Tempest feelingly.  "I'm so sorry you had to be in that position.  But we really needed that information; having it will lead to saving lives, including those of children.  A bluff is a bluff, and words are not the deed. Please don't be too hard on yourself."   

On the topic of children that really died:  "That's lovely of you to plan a service for them, Grog.  I'd be happy to attend and help with it." 

Once it became apparent Miriam Graves was suffering something worse than heartbreak and stress, Lenelle was alert, waiting to see what the clerics would reveal...

"...If only I could believe that Connie could change her ways," said Tara, sadly.  "I've learned too much of their nature, their secrets... what this coven was attempting was horrible, and also what they did."

Sskith knew nothing of the hag of which they spoke.

He held his tongue, and waited for them to return to the Hunt.

Sprinkle cautiously walked toward Miriam, apprehensive of danger after an intense conversation about Hags. Simon felt like something was off about Miriam’s claim of friendship, given the woman’s ill-tempered disposition and criticism of people she knew. Lenelle and Sundos remembered the disastrous  “tea party” with Connie at Miriam’s house that ended in their kidnapping and Miriam’s decline into insanity. Several in the room watched the grieving mother with reasonable concern.

A stench in the air bothered the members of the party with acute senses of smell like Cela and Seth. When Sprinkle was closer to Miriam, she discovered the cause. Around Miriam’s eyes were smudged circles of dark brown. One whiff and Sprinkle found to her horror that the woman had smeared her own feces around her eyes! Miriam tittered softly. “Connie said she’d help me find Elise again.” Sprinkle also saw the thin cord of a woven necklace dipping underneath Miriam’s collar. The necklace was woven from human hair and made of feathers, faded beads, and tiny bones.

Tempest wasn't sure what was happening with this lady, but several people were concerned - her sister included. The warrior walked over to her pack and grabbed the scabbard with the magical sword, and walked to her sisters side. "What is it sis?" She muttered.

In her gesture of solidarity with her sister, Tempest caught the acrid whiff from Miriam. Tempest quickly realized that she looked into the eyes of a madwoman. Her warrior’s instincts told her that the woman was only a danger to herself, though.

Tempest stepped up and smelt te acrid stench, her nose wrinkling. In the ocean, there was no sense of smell, so the sensation was bad. She gripped the hilt of her sword and looked at the mad woman realizing that she was no threat.

The Genasi sighed and looked at the clerics. "She made a deal with the hag."

Telric rubbed his chin at this news. "As long as she has a connection to the Hag, by the rule of sympathetic magic she also might have a link that can be traced back to said Hag. With the proper device, we might be able to track the location of the Hag because she maintains that connection." He pointed out.

"That sounds like incredibly useful magic," said Lenelle to Telric, plainly aghast by this revelation.

"But, I believe the Hag we're talking about is Connie, the one we've got imprisoned here.  Perhaps she planned to use Miriam to try and free herself?   Though if so, this wasn't the way to go about it. How can this 'deal' be negated, does anyone know?  Must she renounce it willingly?"   

OOC:

Tara, give me an Arcana check at Advantage.


 

13:38, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 25 using 2d20+6, dropping the lowest dice only ((15,19)).

Fighting down her rising gorge, Tara inspected Miriam after Tempest mentioned a bargain with the Hag. Tara understood what that meant better than anyone else in the room. Her intimate knowledge of Hags helped her identify the nature of the braided necklace and what it truly meant. She knew it had nothing to do with any bargain.

The necklace was simply a final act of petty cruelty against Miriam’s family.

"...the necklace is accursed," said Tara.  She swallowed.  "Those... those are the bones of a child.  Her child.  Remove it; destroy it.  Miriam needs healing, healing from poison as well as of the soul.  Wait.  I'll deal with the necklace..."

She went to do what she could to end the effect of the necklace, and perhaps try and give peace to the poor child's spirit, should it have been trapped there.

In reply to Tara Inkfingers (msg # 80):

"Hells Bells!" He looks about at the others. "I assume someone is going to end this Connie Hag, yes?" He paled at Tara's revelation, and clearly wished this grizzly matter to be dealt with quickly. "At the very least, if she is magically linked to the necklace, that should be proof of her guilt."

"Already I says maybe hag no get still be alive. Telric, you do a things that let people still be alive." Grog pointed toward the woman in need of a healer's touch. "Let Grog do for hag what needs be killed. When is time for harvest a hag, I will do."

Sprinkle listened at the encounter with the pale woman and her necklace made of children bones, her own child according to Lana. She looked at the small Wizard, astonished, before clearing her troath.

Would she be under that hag spell then? I can try to help with that.

She took a moment to collect herself and started to move her hands with fluid motions, creating a ball of water between her outstretched hands. The water flashed with different colors as she pointed it at Miriam, the colors swirling faster and faster, as the ball became darker and darker. Feeling the strain of her spell, she said between clenched teeth.

There it is....

With one growled word, she let the water flow to Miriam that engulfed her for a second, before falling on the ground, leaving the woman dry, and the brackish water on the ground quickly dissipating.


Cast lesser restoration on Miriam

Carefully, Tara tore away the grisly necklace. As with the cursed poppets that afflicted Sheila and the Archdruid, Tara knew how to strip the object of its foul power. She handed the bones to Grog for interment. Then, Sprinkle stepped forward to help.

The Genasi’s divine waters flowed over Miriam’s face, cleansing her eyes of the excrement. The tainted water flowed onto the temple floor, but miraculously left Miriam dry. Sprinkle fully purged Miriam of Connie’s poison. The woman collapsed into the arms of Sundos while exhaling a thin, dark mist with a deep sigh. Her eyelids fluttered, before she opened them. For the first time in a week, Miriam looked lucid. She looked at the priests and Lenelle. “She’s really gone. My baby’s dead.”

“Yes, Sister Miriam. We are here for you.” Mercion clasped Miriam’s hands, then stared up at the party. “My heart yearns to face the Dragon with you…but she needs me. I cannot leave Miriam, nor the people of this town. There may be other insidious magic of the Witch still at work in Deadwater. I must find and dispel any other traps she may have left behind.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:31, Mon 14 Feb 2022.

Tempest heard what Tara said, and her hands clenched in anger. She had the woman within arms reach, and could have ended this earlier, but every step she heard, these women cursed this entire town.

She watched her sister perform her healing magic, and looked at Sprinkle. "It's done?" She drew her sword and looked at Grog. "I agree grog...this has to end tonight. To do that, to place her onw..." she fell silent, swallowing, but her face had a cold focused look that sprinkle had seen before.

...the warrior yearned for blood.

[The House of The Sun Father]

Simon knew something was wrong with Miriam the moment she entered the temple and even before Tara and Mercion and the others had determined the source...the warlock knew it would be Murky at the root of it.

"That miserable bitch!" Simon seethed with anger.

"I meant to convince you tonight that it would be worth allowing the hag to live, albeit banished to the Feywild, in return for what she could tell us about Granny Grimfiddle."

The warlock, clenches and unclenches his fists as tries to maintain his composure.

"But, this! Putting the bones...around the mother's neck...

This is evil incarnate.

There is no information that is worth keeping her alive. She must die.
By my hands if necessary...my soul is already in need of much redemption...one more transgression won't hurt.

And now. Before we plan for the dragon...the hag must die!"

Simon looks slowly around the room, looking for reactions.

Tempest nodded, her drawn sword seemed to flair with white light and mist came from it.

Smiling, the cleric was glad to have removed the curse on the poor woman... being forced to wear her own children's bones! Even the worst of the sea elves would not do something so abominable! One by one, the members of the group voiced their opinions on the hag's action and most, including her sister, were ready to kill the creature right now. Not one to bother herself with rules, Sprinkle put her hand on Tempest shoulder and nodded, as green water flowed to created four vicious looking claws extending from the back of her hand.

Nothing more needed to be said on her opinion on this matter.

Jennet put a soft hand on Miriam's elbow. "You don't have to watch this. Let's grab Mercion, go out back, and attend to your child's peaceful rest while our friends attend to their vengeance. Come with me?" He made eye contact with the priest, and jerked his head towards the door.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:05, Tue 15 Feb 2022.

Tara bowed her head solemnly.  She knew full well of the crimes and schemes of these hags; there was nothing more to say, really.

Grog understood the anger and reactions of his friends, but their anger was leading to haste, "As I said, let Grog do for hag what needs be killed. When is time for harvest a hag, I will do."

Grog indicated Mercion with a raised hand, "Mercion needs find all a hag's cursings. Fox will dig a holes to kills animals. You see fox, kills a fox. Fox holes still there, more fox, more others, use same hole, kills more animals. You does a kills on all them, but still is holes, always is problem. If not kills a fox, only fears it, then wait? Then watches? Then can you see where fox holes is. Then is time for kills a fox."

"We ask a hag where is all hag's cursings. She want live, she talk. I tell a hag we has a searching for hag cursings, we find one she no tell us, I kills a hag. She sees, she talks. Not talks, then dead. If fox think maybe it can kills animal tomorrow, fox run away. Fox stuck, no can get away, no will be foods tomorrow? Fox fight, farmer have find fox holes himself. When is time for harvest a hag, I will do. Now is time for does a bury for children, then to kills a dragon. After, then will be time for harvest a hag."

Michael listened to the heated discussion with an inscrutable smile. An eyebrow rose with Simon’s passionate call for Connie’s immediate death. His lips curled in a bemused smirk when Grog spoke up, but his expression quickly changed when he heard the Minotaur’s thoughtful response. He nodded slowly. “An excellent and well-considered proposition, Grog.

When you feel ready for the harvest, I will expedite the matter with the court.” Michael shared an agreeable nod with Laredon. “I trust the Sheriff will support this initiative.”

“Aye. For what the Witch has done, I would gladly help Grog reap this harvest.”

Mercion smiled gratefully at Jennet for offering help. “Yes. We will see to healing Miriam’s body and spirit.” She pointed toward a wing of the Temple where beds were available for travelers and the indigent. “If you help her to her bed, I will be right behind you. Oh, and Grog? If any foxholes exist, I will seek them out. Every last one.”

With that said, Mercion edged toward the hall. “Simon, you may finalize your plans for tomorrow’s hunt. I would recommend you all rest as soon as possible. You’ve a great undertaking ahead in the morning.” She parted with a respectful half-bow to Stuart. “Good evening, Lord-Lieutenant.”

With considerably less formality, she smiled brightly at the party. “Good night, my friends. I will pray for you all.”

Simon's fists clench again, as he listens to Grog speak. His face reddens in anger as the minotaur walks back the idea of an immediate execution, but he holds his tongue when Michael Stuart speaks.

The warlock takes a deep breath, and slowly exhales to calm himself. "Mister Stuart is correct. You speak wisely Grog. The hag will be harvested but only after we have gained what information we can."

The warlock nods to Mercion, "You are right, we need to plan for this battle. But, first thing in the morning, before we leave, we must ensure that the hag is blindfolded, gagged, and arms tied to prevent any more tricks."

He looks around again, and then sits down.

"As I said, I can provide the ability to breath in water to all of you although you will move slower.

As Seth said earlier, fighting the dragon in the water is not the goal, but getting to its lair may require using an underwater tunnel."

During the episode with Miriam, Sheila quietly observed the breaking of her chief persecutor. It seemed uncharacteristic for the normally outspoken woman. When Mercion left with Miriam, Sheila broke her silence to Lenelle and Tara. “After the Hags & Benny, that woman was the chief architect of my misery. For years, I hated her and cursed her out of her name.”

Sheila sighed wearily, shaking her head. “Now that I see how much the Hags tormented Miriam Greaves, I find myself questioning how much of our enmity was borne of their schemes. If old Murky Constance Toadtwitcher hadn’t stolen Miriam’s babe, her marriage would likely have survived. Could we have been friends, instead of rivals?”

With another sigh, Sheila grabbed Simon’s hand. “Bind Murky we shall. By rope, chain, gag, and enchantments. You’ve my word on the last.” A sly smile broke her pensive demeanor. “I like the notion of revenging myself on one of the Hags who so beset me.”

In reply to Simon (msg # 94):

Telric put some thought to Simon's words. "With Sprinkle's help, I may be able to make potions of water breathing for every one. There are certain plants under the water whose properties may allow for such things."

"It is wise," Lenelle added, as regards Grog's words and thoughts.

"The information she can provide is potentially too life saving to lose. Though I agree one hundred percent with Simon's call for being bound, blindfolded and gagged. And am glad Sheila will be the one to oversee it." 

Lenelle was about as ready as she could be for whatever came next.  Despite wishing so much the Hags could've been the end of Deadwater's immediate woes.   She wasn't the best fit for what lay ahead.   And, she missed the original group, as well. These strangers were brave, very competent, probably even more powerful.

But they were strangers, and she missed those who'd begun to feel more like friends, who would not be with her on this outing.

She was not looking forward to bidding farewell to Joshua, either.

Beijor had been sitting to the side marveling at the mortals and their moral anguish at killing a hag, of all things. What beautiful sentimentality! Still he was pleased Simon finally came around to the obvious conclusion, and to gain whatever information they could before they executed her.

"She'll need to believe she's going to live by giving you information, you know. I don't suppose any of you are accomplished liars, are you? She's no fool. And whatever information she gives you will be barbed, out of spite. Hags really are predictable creatures."

Tipping his glass to Grog he finished, "Though clever as a fox, true enough."

“I’ve been know to convincingly tell a fib or two,” Pockets said from Beijor’s side, popping his head out from behind the Elf. “Old Murky Constance wouldn’t expect a lie from the Lady, though.” Pockets cocked his head toward Lenelle. “The Hags hated her, but they also underestimated her, as Granny found out ta her eternal regret!”

Sskith exhaled a sharp burst of air in response to Beijor's question, but otherwise gave no indication of his mind. Perhaps the noise had some meaning to his people, but he was not sharing it here. He sensed well enough the formation of a mob seeking justice. He had no interest in being the focus of their attention. He was still an outsider here, after all.

"I'm no use as a liar," said Tara.  That was true, and also, in its own way, good.  Talking with Connie was an uncomfortable experience even above knowing so much of the evil the hags had done... for her, personally.  She was too close.  She understood too much.

Tempest looked at Beijor and Pockets, her expression grim. She was a woman who spoke from the heart, brutally at times, and though she would deceive for a means, she did not lie for the sake of lying.

"Let's just be done with it. tell her she speaks out of line I'll cut her hand off. again, arm. I think you get the point." her expression, lime her tone was serious and hard to read.

...would she really do that?

"It shames me much to admit it, but I am a skilled liar," put in Lenelle.  "I had to be, in the kind of bigoted community I unfortunately grew up in. But if intimidation seems a better tactic, than so be it."

Packing +7 on the deception roll, if need be... 

Simon stands up. "We are putting the cart before the horse! The task at hand is to plan our tactics in fighting this dragon.

As Beijor said, and as we all know, the hag is cunning and crafty. She knows that the information she provided would be used to fight the dragon. If we show up tomorrow asking more, she will suspect the deal has been broken.

Determining who is the best liar can wait. We can determine which of the survivors is best suited."

The warlock runs his hand through his hair and across the back of his neck.

"Some of us have fought together, but there are many newcomers. We need to know what each of us brings to the battle.

For the third time, I can provide the means for everyone to breathe underwater, for a full day.

My spells are few...I can create a globe of impenetrable darkness; I can create a pattern of lights that can stupefy those who look on it, although a dragon may be unaffected...I can grant the ability to fly. Most of my other spells are purely defensive in nature.

And I can cast damaging cantrips."

The warlock takes his seat, but then adds, "I nearly forgot, there may be need for waterproof bags if we end up in the water...and Tara you can probably make better use of this than me."


Simon pulls a scroll case out of his pack, pulls the scroll out of it and hands it to Tara.

---

Invisibility scroll
This message was last edited by the player at 03:20, Wed 16 Feb 2022.

Grog loudly breathed an annoyed breath, "When is time, - I. Will. Do." Grog looked around at those who had gathered, to see if anyone had managed to misunderstand him for a third time.

"Now is not a hag time. Now is a dragon time. Thing what wants to kill us? Thing what is still free in a world? Thing what did more killings in a funeral? Now is a dragon time."

"Thank you," said Tara.  A quill pen appeared in her hand at a gesture, and she set to work with the scroll.

"...I could use this spell to make a scout safer," she remarked.  "Something to consider.  And it's going to be important to be just as relentless against the dragon this time as the last-- don't hold anything back.  If I have time, I have a trick or two that ought to do some serious harm to it."

I will need to think on my capacities to fight the dragon, I've never had to do that before. Unfortunately, those claws of mine will be useless against him.

She reabsorbed the green water into her as the claws disappeared.

We won't be able to do our usual tactic, sis, you know I need those claws. I will do my best to keep everyone alive, that is as far I can promise.

Oh, and I am not a good liar. I do have some skills to see if someone is lying though.

Tara considered what had worked against the dragon last time.

"...I have a spell that weaken a foe's resistance to spells," she said.  "It's a simple one, and takes careful timing working with an ally, but it could make a great difference in a fight."

Tempest looked at her sister and nodded. "Same tactic as that merman swarm....I'll keep them focused on me, you keep me alive."

She drew her sword a little from the scabbard then back. "....and this time I'll have my shield." She looked at Grog. "Big man....you stay by my side and I can help protect you - I learnt a tactic to stop hits when aimed at others. You hit that dragon by my side, my sister will keep us alive "

Something Tara said attracted the attention of Sprinkle and the Genasi casually put her hand on the wizard's shoulder.

You say you can weaken the will of an enemy? That gives me an idea, but I was not sure if I was strong enough to pull it off. If his will  is reduced though...

Removing her hand, she cupped her chin with it, thinking.

I have been having flashes of a higher power spell that might be within my grasp, but with all this hag and curses business going on in town, you might not like it. I think I might be able to curse the dragon, for a time.

She made a weak smile, looking around.

It is not savory, but if we are to win this fight, we can't hold back on our powers.

She turned to Tempest, looking sorry.

I will need to touch him though... I don't want to get near him, but I will do what I must.

In reply to Simon (msg # 104):

Telric nods at Simon's request.

"I'm an artificer, an artillerist. While my arcane science can repair, they can also be projected out via my staff to do damage. I'm sure everyone saw the construct I pulled from my bag? That is Higgins, he is an arcane cannon. While I can fit with with destructive short range or long range weaponry, my preferred function for him to use a defensive field array. As long as he is active, he can repair and shield any friendly within 10' of him. My own wards should shield me on the front line, so with Higgins at our backs I should be next to Grog and Tempest."

Beijor grinned at Pockets and beamed at Lenelle; he leaned towards her, saying, "Never be ashamed of a talent, my sweet! To paint a new reality with words is pure artistry!"

Raising his voice to address the others he said, "The forest will aid us at my call: the beasts may serve as our eyes, and the trees will bend their boughs in our favor. ... Or at least they will cease hindering us." He hopped off his stool. "In fact, there's no reason why they shouldn't become our eyes through the night! You all seem to have this planning business well in hand."

Taking his instrument under his arm he walked towards the door.

"I can draw his attention to me. But if we wound him grievously enough I shall sing him a lullaby from which he will never awake. Ta-ta!"

---

OOC:
I'll head just outside the temple and begin playing.

Re: abilities
- Speak with Animals
- Speak with Plants
- Sleep

Those are my relevant scouting/combat spells for this encounter. Sleep with a 3rd level slot gets me 9d8 of HP, if I can get him alone within the AoE; but I'll only have 1 shot with it if I'm Speaking with Plants for area calming. I'm otherwise a duelist, but draggo's damage output is a bit much for me in melee for any more than 1 round. Also Healing Word to get people up from 0HP.

Beijor:
"I shall take your word for that, magical minstrel, but I'll always feel honesty is the best policy, as well as a true virtue."   

As to what she can offer:

"My primary attack has always been the guiding bolt.  Though my capacity to cast a pair of them won't matter here, since they both cannot be aimed at the same target.   Likely force darts -- that some call magic missile -- " rolling her sea grey eyes at that wholly comical name, "-- will serve better. I can also attack with the power of sound, to shatter.  That's a new one -- I overheard Tara cast it, and the words just made sense to me."   

"To aid the party, I can imbue others with the power of flight, or the cloak of invisibility. Myself as well, of course.  I can heal, as you know. And make a suggestion that the target may act on for hours and hours.  Unsure whether that's worth trying on a dragon.  Perhaps with Tara's will weakening spell, though?"

"I can disguise myself as a member of another race -- perhaps even a lizard folk?  I can ward myself or another with the basic mage armor, and call on guidance from above to make it easier for myself or others to do things."

"Also, by focusing extra energy, I can cast certain spells as a pair, or shorten the time it takes to cast them."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:52, Thu 17 Feb 2022.

Tempest looked at her sister, worry in her eyes, and sighed.  She knew that now was not the time to hold back against such a foe. She nodded. "Someone draws his attention, I will lead, you follow, touch him and then get out."

She held her sword. "My sister and i know each other's fighting styles...because of that i can sometimes intercept some attacks before they hit her."

[Outside the Temple]

Outside, Beijor added his instrumental to the evensong of the Swamp birds. The Elf’s music soothed everyone inside the Temple. Although the group dialogue lost none of its requisite urgency, they felt a little less anxious. In the trees, the owls hooted back, but would not approach. Beijor learned that the winged predators of the night felt apprehensive about the Familiars now frequenting the group in the form of Owl & Raven.

However, a lone nightingale bravely flew toward the Elf. She landed on a nearby lantern post. Her clear birdsong complemented Beijor’s tune. The effect was like a strange “Call & Reply” of certain temple songs. “*Whee-whee-brrrt-twee-twee*!”

"I'm glad that you can protect her," said Tara.  "I'll be keeping my distance.  I use a wide range of magic, but I'll mostly be using some damaging spells and some more indirect, mental attacks.  Magical darkness would be too much of a hindrance for the group, I'm afraid, and webs won't be strong enough to restrain a dragon."

"So, we have a front-line of Grog, Tempest, and Telric.

Stealthy combatants in Cela, Jennet, and Beijor.

Seth is an archer and Sprinkle will be moving about trying to keep people alive.

Leaving Lenelle, Tara, and I to deliver as many spells as we can.

I believe our goal will be to confront the dragon on the ground if at all possible. We need to remain spread out, not in soldiers' ranks, to limit the effectiveness of its acid spit.

If it takes flight and we take cover it might decide to ignore us and wreak havoc on the village again. I suggest in that case we use flying magic to keep it engaged and lure it back. I imagine long range spells will be best, as they will allow us to keep away from the acid.

If anyone has any other items that might prove useful, please speak up.

Oh! That reminds me, Tara there are some items from the hag's lair that need to be identified."

Simon passes over the shrunken hag's head.

---

Jennet has the petrified kobold hand necklace and Skye had the origami bat...not sure if those can be dealt with at this time?

Sskith blinked at Simon's words, trying to keep up with the words that everyone spoke. So many gifts they spoke of, some useful to the hunt, many useless. It was simply too much knowledge for any one mind to absorb. He did not see the path they meant to take with such words.

"I am a Hunter, I hunt with bow and Echo."

Were it normal prey, he would send his Echo before him to flush it out, and then strike from shadow with his bow. Such tactics would do little against one of the Darastrix.

"Thissss will not do."

He said at last, challenging them.

"Nothing you have sssspoken will keep the Darastrix on the ground. It will flee to the sssky as it did before, or escape within the water. We need to give it cause to fight usss, to come to ussss."

He paused, waiting to see if any of them found the words he was leading them to.

"We need to find its Rasvim, that which it valuesss above all. Only by threatening that can we force it to fight to the death."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Fri 18 Feb 2022.

Simon looked up when the lizardman spoke. "If you have anything to add, please do. None of us have any experience fighting dragons unless you count what happened at Azatch's funeral."

The warlock stands and runs his hands over his stubbled face and temples.

"If we can find the dragon's lair, then any treasure that it values should be there. Perhaps, even eggs.

Keeping the wyrm on the ground is crucial...but we have to expect to have to deal with it in flight...hopefully Grog wrestling it in the air will be a back-up plan!"

Simon stretches before sitting again.

[Speaks Draconic: If you want to speak in your native tongue, feel free, and I will translate to the others.]

"If he tries flying, I can try to bring him to earth," said Tara.  "I don't know how well it will work, though, and it won't last long.  Dragons are too strong for it to work for long.  But I might be able to buy us a moment..."

She examined the items, preparing her rituals to identify them.  Any edge they could get...

Beijor stopped playing his bandore while the nightengale sang, pulling out his pennywhistle instead, answering the small bird's thweets and trills with his own.

The nightingale sang along joyfully, at least Beijor thought so. A clear, pleasant trilling that delighted the listener. “*Brr-thwee-thwee-thwee-thweet*!”


Then, the nightingale flew off into the night.

Lenelle was all ears once Seth began to speak.

The rest could speculate on what it was like to fight and deal with a dragon...while he was the only one who could offer anything beyond the theoretical.

"What is a Rasvim?"  She asked.  Either Seth, or Simon, if he was going to translate.

"The egg?  Or something else?  And if the egg then who - and where - is the mate?"   

"Tara if you use your spell on these items, I will look at the scrolls...maybe Telric can help me?"


As he unrolls the spell scrolls, Simon responds. "It means treasure, more or less. Seth is saying that we need to have something very valuable to the dragon to keep it from flying away.

No idea if it has eggs, just a thought. It's possible that Irma had a male in the Feywild?"

---

Simon rolled 18 Arcana check with ADV.
Simon rolled 17 Arcana check with ADV.
Simon rolled 23 Arcana check with ADV.
Simon rolled 9 Arcana check with ADV.

10:23, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 26 using 2d20+6.  Arcana Check.

10:22, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 29 using 2d20+6.  Arcana Check.

10:22, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 30 using 2d20+6.  Arcana Check

Tara realized what she was looking at at once, of course...

"Hisss hoard."

Sskith answered Lenelle, building on what Simon had started.

"It is the nature of the Vutha, assss it isss the nature of all Dragonssss, to hoard. The blood of Byrsiss Blackfang and Sesskrith the Divine will be no different, in thiissss. He will have gathered a hoard, no matter how small or vassssst. If we find it, if we threaten it, he will be forced to attack ussss."

Which was a terrifying thought.

"He would have no choice."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Sun 20 Feb 2022.

Simon, stops his examination of the scrolls for a moment, "Vutha means black," he remarks, before returning to his task.

Sprinkle was not the strategist in the genasi duo and listened at the others with half an ear, playing with a ball of water she has scooped up somewhere. She did realize there wasn't much she could bring on that end.

The lizard folk said something about the dragon's hoard that peaked her interest.

And how could we find this hoard? Being a black, he most likely has it in a underwater cavern
This message was last edited by the player at 04:06, Mon 21 Feb 2022.

With additional help from Telric, Simon and Tara deciphered the Hag scrolls. The spells included Acid Arrow, Blur, Expeditious Retreat, & Mirror Image.

"...the first isn't useful here unless I tweak it," said Tara.  "The others have a little more use, though.  It's a shame we don't know what the dragon treasures.  I don't have a good way to get that information, either."

"Perhaps this is another question to put to Connie?  It might be that she knows. If it can be gotten out of her."   

"Perhaps...though I am hesitant to rely on her.

When she previously spoke of the dragon, it was as if only Irma interacted with it...butI could be wrong about that."

Simon looks over the scrolls and says to Tara, "I might have use for Expeditious Retreat in this battle. If no one else can use the Mirror Image scroll, I will take it as well.

Now what of these items, what do they do?"

---

Shrunken head, kobold paw, and origami bat.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:13, Wed 23 Feb 2022.

Tara cast her ritual to Identify each item in turn.

Beijor sauntered back into the temple, lazily taking his former seat and looking around if any refreshment was to be had.

"A sweet little thing with a voice clear and true as Lenelle's shall aid us, though I dare say your avian companions are distrusted by the night's denizens," he said with an eye towards the masters of the raven and owl.

"North past a grove of druids, and beyond the pond of the scaled ones," he gestured at Seth, "your family no doubt? Also something or other about a 'Great Maw' by whom she hopes we aren't consumed."

Noticing the attention paid to the items spread across the table, he asked, "Useful baubles as well as pretty?"

Well, 'Great Maw' seemed clear enough to her.

She wasn't sure about being called a 'sweet little thing,' but did appreciate the vote of confidence from Beijor, and took it in stride.

"I believe, in theory, I should be able to use some of the same scrolls you and Tara do, Simon.   Though I've never tried it before.  If you have any you don't need, I'm interested.  But, I already have use of invisibility, and if that one does what it sounds like, it's probably best if you hold onto it."   

"The Vutha issss wounded."

Sskith answered plainly.

"He is not Divine, he bleedsssss. Come the light, we track hissss bloody passsage. We find hisss lair. We do not go in, but we threaten it. He will not tolerate ussss to know such ssssecretsss. The gray of dawn, we hunt."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:06, Wed 23 Feb 2022.

Tempest, silent until now, nodded. "Whatever we do, the best option will attack and soon. It's wounded, and to take advantage of that would be best - though how wounded we don't know. But, at least we've given it thought."

"Really? Your magic has always seemed to be more intuition than rote...but in that case, it may be prudent for you to carry this scroll," he pushes the Expeditious Retreat scroll toward the sorcerer. "Speed can help keep you out of harm's way.

I was thinking it might give me an advantage if forced to fly but I don't believe that will be the case, after all."

The warlock looks to Sheila. "Would you have something that might keep my tome and some other small items dry in case we end up underwater? A bag of oiled canvas that I can put inside my pack might suffice."

“I need a few hours, Simon. Give me the night, and I should be able to brew a suitable ointment or potion.”

In reply to Sheila Blackmoor (msg # 139):

"Indeed. I need at least a night's rest to recharge my staff." Telric agreed with Shelia.

"Come the light."

Sskith said, perhaps some expression of his people that didn't translate perfectly, but at least conveyed the intent. Then he turned to find himself a burrow to sleep in.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:15, Wed 23 Feb 2022.

Cela returns to the Spit, and uses the collar to transform into a housecat to curl up for the night.

"So," said Tara, suddenly much more awkward.  "Sprinkle did you... and your sister... want to come and stay with me for the night?"

Actually articulating what she intended was hard; how did you even... Well, and Tempest would be there, too, which was disappointing and yet... it reduced the amount of raw terror at actually doing what she wanted...?

Tempest looked at sprinkles, let her answer for the two.

"Tara, before you retire for the night...did you manage to discover the power behind these items?"

Simon points to the Shrunken head, kobold paw, and origami bat sitting on the table.

The warlock will then return to the Sulphur's Spit. If the tavern is still open, he will get a mug of tea before heading to his room.

He will open the shutters, and mentally call out, [Telepathy: Nimbus!] Once the raven appears, he will add, "I'm going to sleep soon, you are welcome to stay in the room, or roost where you like outside. Be sure to wake me if the dragon appears again."

Simon puts his ring on the table and then vanishes from the room. In the extra-dimensional space he leaves much of unneeded equipment, extra clothes, writing material, bedroll, staff, and the like.

He then pops back into the room, strips off his armour and climbs into the bed. He sits up for some time, sipping his tea, thinking about home.

~Will I ever see it again?~ he thinks, as he drifts off to sleep.

Before the group parted ways for the night, Tara’s ritual discerned the true nature of the three items. What she discovered about the shrunken Hag’s head confirmed her suspicions. The head was once attached to a rival of the Coven, and would share information about what she’d seen in her century-spanning life: recipes, spells, secrets. Simon eventually noticed that the head’s neck dripped a few drops of blood whenever she whispered.

The origami bat would carry a Message, but only at night. Of greater value was Jennet’s Kobold paw. Tara learned that the paw would point in the direction of any hidden door or secret passage.

Sprinkle looked at the small wizard after she invited the sisters to spend the night with her, a corner smile lifting one side of her mouth. Simon distracted her a moment as she explained what she had discovered from the items of the Hag coven, while she was thinking on her answer, Tempest having thrown her in the path of the shark's charge.

As the water ball became a bright yellow, flowing between her fingers, she thought about how the normally confident Tara always seemed to hesitate before talking to her, and looked to catch her alone. Even if she not the brightest, she did have some knowledge of humanoid behavior and if her instincts were right, Tara was uncomfortable with her... but still wanted her attention. As her smile grew, she decided to see where that attention would lead. It could be fun, after all, and Sprinkle was usually looking for fun.

The ball of of water flowed from her hand to Tara's shoulder as she said.

We would be honored, Tara.

Telric reaches into his bag and pulls out a small pouch and hands it to Sprinkle. "Pipeweed. For later. Tara can show you how to smoke it." He smiled. He rather doubted the two aquatic sisters had much experience with lighting pipes underwater.

Lenelle arched a brow.  "Really?  It can be used with flight magic?"   She'd had very little chance to explore her own, not sure of what her top speed might be.  If this spell would allow her to go even faster...or, equip another to do so, in some crisis, then that certainly had high value.

"Thank you Simon," she said.  She watched his exchange with the raven, before he departed for the night.

He had changed so much.  Lenelle was fairly amazed by how much, and how quickly.  His potential, his aptitudes, had never been in question. And now, it seemed he possessed strong character to match them.   She smiled slightly, glad for him.

And for the rest of them, that they no longer had to hear the tirades he'd once been so partial to giving.

And then it was Lenelle's turn to depart.   She of course had a destination for this night.

Once she met Joshua, just as she'd promised to do, she approached, moved against him, reached up and put her arms about his neck.

"For tonight...no dragons, and no hags.  No loathsome evil of any sort, to darken our hearts, and drain joy out of the world.   For tonight, and till before dawn...just you and I, and no one else, and nothing more." 
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

"Well, this way, then," said Tara.  It crossed her mind that she also should speak with Tempest... about her sister.  If Tara could find the words to explain what she was feeling.  It was a bit difficult to manage that.

Tempest looked at her sister, Tara, then back again, and grabbing her pack and shield, looked at them both. "Lets go then...I need some rest after that dragon slammed against that rock. My head still rings like a snapping shrimp's claw squeezing it."

She looked at her sister, raising an eyebrow. She hadn't seen her sister so chaotic in her behavior in a while. The battle had shown her serious side, especially healing. Her usual talking (more endless nattering like a school of sardines) was normal, but something with this Tara....had brough out her more playful side.

But Sprinke was her sister, and she would stick by her...no matter what.



.....with lots of eye rolls and groans.

"I will do a prepares, then will have sleeps. In a morning, I will do a burying for children after a sunrise."

Before leaving to make other preparations, Grog went to speak to a representative of the temple for a quick chat. He had work to do tonight, a burial in the morning, a hag to talk to, a dragon to kill, and possibly a hag to kill afterward. There was much to be done.

Mercion led Grog to Eldath’s Well. “The sacred water will consecrate your wreaths and the burial ground alike.” The Priestess spoke quietly so as not to disturb anyone sleeping. She smiled warmly at Grog. “Your compassion honors the spirits of these precious little ones. Speak from your heart in the morning. The gods will hear you.”

Later that night, everyone retired to their beds. A quiet settled over Deadwater that stilled the air. It was as if the town itself collectively held its breath in anticipation of what would come with the new day. A light mist gently covered the ground. Seth burrowed right outside the town walls, feeling a protectiveness toward the Scalelsss Ones that puzzled him. He slept lightly in case trouble revisited his new allies.

Tara welcomed Sprinkle into her bed, while Tempest slept on blankets outside their room. Sprinkle’s embrace held a slight coolness that soothed Tara. Outside, Sheila worked quietly through the night on the waterproofing salve that Simon requested. She stepped quietly around Tempest, taking care not to disturb the warrior’s sleep.

 In the time since they first declared their feelings, Joshua strove to make his home more inviting to Lenelle. Fresh flowers always sat in a jar on a table. Patterned blankets added color to the Redfern home, which Joshua kept clean for his new lady. The simple icon of Pelor that hung over the door seemingly smiled at the light that the Sorceress brought back into Joshua’s life. Lenelle herself glowed faintly with internal light as she made love with Joshua for the first time.

Back in the Temple, Grog finished his preparation for the funeral that he would conduct at sunrise. Telric smoked his pipe in the garden, sharing it with Pockets. The weed had a pleasant effect on the men, relaxing them after a troubling day. Soon, Sister Mercion went through the grounds, gently urging the men who remained awake to get some rest.

Beijor didn’t require sleep, so he kept Bathsheba up past her own bedtime at The Sulphur’s Spit. Only Jennet heard her delighted giggles as he drifted off to a welcome sleep. Simon likewise had no trouble sleeping within his Ring. Outside his Vessel, the shrunken Hag’s Head whispered softly to Nimbus. Simon dreamt of a burnt oak tree.

The night passed far too quickly, and soon, the darkness slowly ebbed with the first rays of Dawn’s light.

Beijor was up early - not that he ever slept - and was padding around in the kitchen as Bathsheba caught up on lost sleep. The soft sound of water boiling mingled with muddled sugar and herbs, and a scent of rosemary and sunshine with a slight tang of mint bloomed through the common room.

He left a pitcher of pale golden effervescence on the bar while he reclined in a chair by the fireplace with one leg hooked over the arm, delicately sipping his glass and primping his platinum bangs in the reflection of a polished silver spoon.

Tempes t went with her sister and Tara to the house, and when Tara invited Sprinkle to her bed, while Tempest set up outside, the genasi allowed a glare of warning to the woman. She looked at both a serious look and tone in her voice. "Rest...we have a big task ahead of us and we need to be focused" She looked at her sister.

"....completely focused!"

She none the less set up her sleeping mat outside the room and fell asleep.

---

Dawn came and Tempest was awake, in a meditative pose, her sword on her lap - focusing her mind for what was to come all too soon. She had her armor and shield cleaned and ready as the two came out she did not open her eyes, or say anything.

Simon climbed out of bed, feeling strangely refreshed, even though the dream about the charred oak tree, nagged at him.

Hearing a mumbling, he started for a moment, before recognising the quiet voice of the shrunken head. He lay his head back on the pillow for a moment, but suddenly his eyes flew open as he sat up abruptly, making Nimbus caw in surprise.

~What a complete dolt I am!~ the thought flashed through his mind as he flung the covers off the bed and picked up the hag's head from where he had left it on the table.

Sitting in the chair, he held up the head to eye level and spoke to it.

"Tell me what you know of the dragon, Baleful Blackfang, that Irma raised. Where is its lair? Where is the tunnel that leads from the hags' house?"

As he stared at the head, waiting for a response, the warlock added, "Please."

---

Not a big deal, but Simon won't generally sleep in his ring, as he can only stay in it for 6 hours per long rest.

Sskith woke, as he always did, just before the first creeping tendrils of light touched the night sky. He blinked into the darkness, for his kind were nightblind, and he had no wish to rub dried carrot into his eyes that morning. His Echo could see for them both, and was already waiting for him to rise. He did so, and after washing his face in a nearby pool, he reached out a hand and let him guide him back to the center of town.

By the time he arrived, it was light enough for him to see, the sky a dark grey overhead.

He stood vigil, and waited for the others to arrive.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:40, Wed 02 Mar 2022.

Grog was in place well before sunrise, finishing up the last of his preparations for the ceremony that would come with the welcoming of the sun. He sat leaning against the trunk of a tree, facing the direction that the sun would rise. On either side of him was a trench that circled the tree in a C-shape, with him sitting in that open space. The trench was about one foot wide, its sides angled diagonally to form a smaller ring about twenty inches below the surface. On the ground inside the trench, were a number of small bundles wrapped in burlap. Each sack contained some of the children's bones and a collection of things he had gathered that would serve as nutrients in the soil. Wheelbarrows sat on the north and south sides of the tree, about dozen feet back from the trunk, and each one held a wedge-shaped clump of soil that sported thriving lilies, looking as though they had been cut from the earth in a similar fashion to the trench around the tree's base.

He sat quietly against that tree, thinking of the two girls that he had known, and their fascination with him. They held such joy and wonder in their lives, no matter how short they had been, and he envied their youthfully innocent perspectives. The world was a harsh place, full of harsh creatures, who needed harvesting...

He blew out a deep breath from his large snout, trying to force away the negative thoughts and emotions that crowded in when he wasn't being careful. The hags would be dealt with later, after this dragon had paid for his trespasses. This morning was for remembering the children, who knows how many, whose lives the hags had stolen and destroyed.

As other people began to gather in preparation for the service, Grog stood and revealing a small wreath he'd had nestled in his lap, and he moved out and away from the tree. Those who had lost children or siblings, were invited to step forward around the trench, to stand near one of the small burlap bundles. "My thanks for all what come for a burying. I know of my words are not being right, or good. For this, I am having sorry. Here in a front for you all, is a starts. A starts for growing a lilies and all a flowers."

"This place,"</brown> Grog pointed to the spot where he had sat, up against the tree, where the trench was left closed and faced toward the morning sun. "Pelor will does a welcoming, makes a strong roots, making strong flower, and here you can be near to children."

"First, we have done a planting," Grog pointed to the sacks. He then went to the wheelbarrows and removed the wedges of flowery soil, and placed them into the trench to fill it in. "With this, is a planting complete. Now growing is can be free, and a healing is can happen."

He then motioned for the servant of Pelor to come near, who handed the minotaur a bottle and a small clay bowl, "This starts will do allowing for grows, and let a children spirits be free. With this, now we have a watering." Grog walked around the trench to those who had gathered, filling the small bowl with a clear liquid from the bottle and instructing them each to pour the liquid onto earthen-plugs before them and invited them to move to the front of the tree.

After the last one had finished, Grog collected the bottle and bowled and went to the front of the tree. He dipped a finger into the liquid and used it to trace a pair a runes onto the tree's bark, then drew out two of his rune-carving tools and chiseled lightly into the tree's bark at key intersections in the rune's structures. "For children spirits do wandering in free, and always a play for princessing, we do now."

Grog knelt down so that the sun's light could shine over his head and onto the runes of sap that he had drawn onto the tree, "Pelor make sun will shine, and always for nourish a soul and warm a spirit to comfort." He reached up with the etching tool and tapped the chisel for one final mark. A sound like a rope tightening could be heard, and for those who could see the runes shining in the sun's morning light, they saw the runes and surrounding bark of the tree rotate toward the left, causing the bark to wrinkle in a wavy-spiral pattern, and in the middle was a semblance of an elderly man's face. The symbol of Pelor.


This message was last edited by the player at 19:27, Wed 02 Mar 2022.

Mercion assisted Grog as needed, stepping aside for the Minotaur to minister to the families that surprised everyone by attending. Three dozen or so townspeople listened solemnly, offering their quiet prayers to the beloved Pelor. More than a few sniffles were heard as Grog’s heartfelt words moved everyone present. Sorrow yielded to a few cries of wonder—and joy—when the Runes manifested the visage of Pelor in the eastward facing tree. Mercion gasped in wonder, her hands clasped as she smiled through a sheen of tears.

When the service ended, each person left a tribute for the young innocents: flowers, small cakes, coppers, or small dolls. The final tribute came from Miriam. The woman beset by tragedy held onto a swaddling cloth. She approached Grog with a supporting hand from Mercion and Sundos. “I used this after Elise was born. The child I carried and gave birth to…and lost to that Hag. Not the little Changeling fiend who wore her face all these years.”

“Sister Greaves,” Mercion said tentatively. However, if Miriam sounded poised for a rant, she surprised the Priests and Grog with a gentle shake of her head and a bittersweet smile. “I am not come to complain, but to leave this for the little ones. May it warm their souls as they play in the fields of the Sun Father.” She laid the cloth down beside the tree trunk.

Then, Miriam smiled up at Grog. She gently touched his jaw. “It was a lovely service. And an even lovelier thought. Thank you. What you did…that is what a True Knight would do.” Standing on tiptoe, Miriam kissed Grog, then walked back into the Temple with Sundos.

Mercion stared for several seconds at Grog. She looked as though she were seeing truly him for the first time. “A True Knight indeed—or one very fine Cleric.” She smiled at Grog, then joined Sundos and Miriam indoors.

As Tara brought her to her bed, there was not a lot of space in the room's single bed and Tempest had to stay outside. While she had slept often with her sister, this was the first time she would be with someone else. Starting to remove her non ferrous chain shirt, she was soon in her shift, ready for bed. She then noticed something about Tara as the wizard was settling in.

Aren't you worried you'll crush your flowers in your hair if you sleep with them? Do you need help to untangle them?

"...No," said Tara.  "That won't be a problem.  They're part of me... a gift from my stepmother."

She was silent for a moment.  This was the bad part, the troubling part.  The part where she had to admit to the thing that she could be hated for... but she wasn't willing to lie to Sprinkle, and it wouldn't be right to withhold the truth, either.

"My stepmother taught me the ways of magic," she continued.  "Started me on the path.  She was wise; she was strong.  But she was not and is not human, nor is she of any... civilized folk.

"My mother died when I was so young I can't remember her, but my father, well, he was still young, and I guess well-favored.  Several women around our village fell in love with him, but the one that fell the most in love with him was Black Mariah, the Swamp Witch.  What folks in these parts would call a Green Hag.  She chased him, and in the end, she won him, but he made her swear a binding oath to treat his children as her own, to protect us and help us and love us and never, ever harm us.  And she did.  She kept that promise, and in me, she saw the potential to... achieve power.  Great power.  So she gave me that power.  But I also learned the lesson from her that power is a knife.  A knife can slit a throat, or it can carve a toy for a child.

"So I took that power, and I went to find other teachers, like Mistress Blackmoor.  I don't want to become like the Hags, but that tie... that tie is there.  It will always be a part of me.  The power will always be a part of me.  But I get to decide how to use it."

She looked nervously at Sprinkle, hoping that she hadn't ruined everything.

The genasi listened to the wizard without interrupting her. Once she was done, she stood quietly, under the worried gaze of the woman. Playing with her water ball, she smiled at the wizard.

I find that your flowers are really pretty and suit you well.

The water ball became a red flower with flowing liquid petals.

So you are an outcast within this community and with the hags problems they have, you fear you will be rejected because of your heritage.

She started to laugh lightly, a crystalline watery sound.

Well you won't be rejected by me, just for being who you are... I had more than my share of that in my life.

She looked at the door, behind which Tempest was, a tender expression on her face.

If Tempest had not been born right before me, my childhood would have been much worse... at least I had someone to relate to. The moment the sea elves we were born to realized we were not like them, they started to ostracize us and our only friends were each other. Only Tempest's mentor saw any merit to us and taught us more than the basic skills. I developed my powers on my own, no one ever tutored me.

I'm pretty sure I can understand what you are  going through.

Still smiling, she pointed to the bed.

Shall we go to sleep? We have a big day tomorrow.

Cela wakes up early, grabs breakfast from the Spit's kitchen, and does stretching exercises in the the common areas in the vicinity of Beijor and Sskith while waiting for the others.

"Is the town treating you well enough?  She asks Sskith in the Goblin tongue during a break in her exercise.  "They have bad history with lizardfolk, and have a hard time with anyone not human."

Telric gets some last bit of potioncraft done. While they where set for anti acid paste, they would need more healing potions. They could always use more of those. When he was done, he would go and make sure his staff was charged and then headed off to get breakfast.

In spite of how utterly unlikely it was, the village of Deadwater had gifted to Lenelle the very thing she'd nearly given up hope of ever having.

An entirely normal relationship.

For Joshua Redfern was every bit the decent, forthright, brave and tough yet sensitive man she'd dreamed of and longed for in her earlier life.

In more recent years, she'd become quite certain that what she was had mostly shut the door on any possibility of it.  She was more than a little happy to learn now it wasn't, or at least needn't necessarily be, the case.

Hopefully.  There were still certain concerns...and how those might affect the future.  But, she wasn't going to think about them again until the matter of the dragon was over and done.

In any case, any last line between they and being more than just friends was now fully erased.   And she held no regrets whatever.  And prayed neither did he.  She hadn't come to him as a virgin; hopefully, that wasn't any issue, to be brought up later.  Like it would've been back home...

Home...was Gold Veil Valley ever truly that?   

Her heart proclaimed no.  Emphatically, no. And her head found no good or valid reason to contest it.   Odd, ironic, as it might be, Deadwater was already much more so.

Upon arising, she woke the still sleeping Joshua to say, "Come.  We must get dressed and attend the service Grog is performing, just as we promised to."   

And what Lenelle observed there made her mouth part in awe.

It was depth, sensitivity, and purest compassion beyond anything she'd have thought him capable of.  Which shamed her to realize;  how had she missed all of that in him?

He was like the very archetype of the best and truest knights, and not like the frauds and pretenders who roamed Gold Veil, collecting donations for their supposedly charitable works and deeds.

Again, as with Joshua, Mercion and Sundos, she was presented with the person she'd always hoped for.   She held Joshua's hand during the service, and more than once blotted tears from her eyes, unconcerned whether any might think that foolish.   She was rather sure most of them, and especially Grog, would understand.

The symbol of great Pelor...growing ever more prevalent and significant in the scope of her life.  And part of her wished to move a step further...to perhaps learn the formal prayers, the catechisms and to practice proper worship, under the guidance of Mercion and Sundos.  It would make Joshua happy, surely.  And yet...

When Lenelle had watched the break of dawn, there was this sense of an other. And not at all for the first time.

She still had no real understanding of what she was.  What, or Who had touched her, and imbued her with the magic, at once divine and arcane, that she wielded.

Yet under the light of Dawn, she was always nearer to that one. A part of her wished to know so badly...and a part of her did not.  Glancing sidelong, at the man she'd fallen in love with, and also badly not wanting to be any less purely human than she already was.

There was a sense of an almost fragile balance.  One that Lenelle very much did not want tipped.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:19, Wed 02 Mar 2022.

During the service, Joshua wrapped his arm around Lenelle’s shoulder as she wept. A tear slid down his cheek, although he maintained a stoic silence. When the service ended, he smiled at Lenelle. “Grog has a gift,” Joshua said in an almost reverential tone.

"He truly does," she concurred, nodding.

"And you as well, sir." It was as near to a double entendre as Lenelle had ever spoken.

While Joshua blinked in befuddlement, Simon pondered an eerie discovery from earlier that morning. As he slept, he’d dreamt of a burnt oak tree towering over him. The setting sun illuminated the charred bark as he felt an overpowering dread in his dream. Upon awaking, Simon witnessed the last of a bizarre conversation between the shrunken Hag’s head and his familiar. After frantic questions, the answer was relayed quietly in his mind.

Tara awoke... and was warm.  Her hand was on something...

Oh, yes.  Her mind was sharp; she didn't forget things easily, even in the blur of a new morning.  And now she didn't want to move at all.  Not with Sprinkle right there with her...

But the day was starting.  They shouldn't linger, sadly.  But... she couldn't help herself.  Her hand stroked Sprinkle's head gently, just once.  But her mind, now...

Sprinkle had said she wouldn't reject her.  That probably just meant as friendship, but what if...?  Oh, a thought, a tempting, delicious thought!  And Sprinkle had said she was beautiful... Tara wasn't so sure about that, but still, it was so flattering.

And she was so incredibly lucky to meet someone like this.

"...You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met," she whispered, her treacherous hand stroking Sprinkle's hair again.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:14, Thu 03 Mar 2022.

Sskith answered Cela back in Ghukliak automatically.

^Goblin"Better by far than the last time I left footprints in their hearth's-mud."

The clicking and barking of Ghukliak was easier on his lips, without the long sibilant noises that the Common tongue forced him to make.

^Goblin"The last time I dared to tread here, they threw rocks. This time though, this time I came baring fallen kin."

He beat a fist into his chest, another alien gesture filled with unknown meaning.

^Goblin"Cold heart's blood returned to the den, warm heart's blood to the Matriarchs. Bonds made, and less rocks thrown."

He turned, his eyes regarding the Tabaxi curiously.

^Goblin"You? What is the name of your kin, you are alone here too. Did they throw rocks at you as well?"

The first stroke of Tara's hand woke the cleric but she didn't move just yet. She was somewhat used to sleep with Tempest, but her sister did have hard edges with her muscular body that Tara didn't have and it was an intriguing experience. The twins had been treated like aberrations for most of their lives and she had never shared a bed with someone else before. As she started her customary review of what her instinctive spell preparations had brought her during the night, a surprisingly tender second stroke of her hair with a barely heard murmur had her open an milk white eye, twinkling with mischief.

Good morning to you.

She turned to face the wizard, smiling.

You do know I have a twin, don't you? If you find me beautiful, so should you find Tempest.

She lightly touched one of flowers in the wizard's hair, letting her finger linger a second before sliding away.

Did you feel that? I was wondering since you told me they are part of you.

Lowering her voice with a quick look towards the door, she said conspiratorially with a wink.

Between you and me, you are softer than Tempest. After the dragon is dealt with, maybe we'll be able to talk more.

Sitting in the bed, she shivered when the single blanket they had shared slipped down her body as she stretched and yawed.

But for now, we should get something to eat and go to that ceremony Grog wants to do.

A few minutes later, the fully armed and armored cleric got out of the room and after a quick breakfast, was assisting to the moving ceremony. Not for the first time, she was glad to have her skin always wet, as it hid her silent tears...

Tara swallowed, shivering at the touch to her Crown.

"I felt it," she said.  "And no.  It's you.  It will always be you."

She wanted to say more than that, but no, no, there was too much to do now.  And she didn't know how to start...

...but they'd started a little, so far, hadn't they?

Still, yes, they had too much to do.

"Yes, let's get ready," she said.  Magic moved clothes to her, but a part of her day, it was clear, was studying the astonishing collection of notes and scraps of paper she'd somehow gathered into a crude book.  Best to be prepared in case something happened...

As the two emerged, Tempest sat there, cross legged and eyes closed, most of her wounds healed over with scars. The cold blade resting in her lap, she didn’t open her eyes as they came out, but spoke. “Never known you to sleep so deeply sister….,I thought I’d need to throw a mako in to wake you like last week - or maybe a moray eel.” She opened her eyes and stood, sheathing her sword as she looked at the both. “The cow-man…..sorry, the mini-o-tar’s ceremony is almost upon us. We should go.”

She packed up her gear, looking at Tara. “I should thank you - best night sleep I’ve had in years without her elbows jabbing me in the ribs.” Despite the joke, she had a serious look on her face….one of curosity and warning.

As they left she let sprinkle get ready and knelt near Tara. “I do not begrudge anyone their feeling, even you. But what you must understand little one is my sister and myself are all we have had most of our life. I am protective of my family.” She looks over her shoulder to sprinkle as she hums, gathering her gear, then back. “Do as you will, but know my sister and I are close, and always will be. And if you hurt her in ANY way, by every god in the surface, you will live to regret it”

The same white eyes that sprinkle had looked at Tara now, but these eyes were very different - full of focus, warning and discipline.

With the warning, she stood and started walking to the ceremony. “Damn sprinkle - you move slower than a blob fish”

---

Tempest was one of the last to arrive, and stood to the side. She didn’t know these human rites, but when gifts were given, she pulled a dagger made of the same green material as her armor and placed it in. “In my world, even the young are taught to fight and protect themselves. This blade was my first - may it protect you in the next life.”

“You honor the little ones, Tempest.” Sheila walked past Tempest, laying an ornate wreath of lilies by the tree’s roots. She stood beside the Genasi warrior afterward. “I heard you earlier. Protecting family is a righteous cause.” The old woman stared at Tempest with penetrating eyes.

“Tara is not only my former pupil, but I think of her as my daughter. I was forced to give up my own so many years ago.” Sheila smiled grimly. “Hurt her and you will live to regret it.” She looked the warrior over. “May the gods stand with you against the Dragon.” Then, she shuffled back toward her apothecary shop.

Tempest looked at the woman and her praise and warning, her expression not changing. "I do not wish harm on her, or anyone....but my place is protecting myself and my sister, and I will no matter what."

Before she leaves, she grabs the woman's hand, light, but firmly. "I understand she is as your family, and I respect your warning." what she said was true - but the tone was clear

....she meant what she said.

“We understand each other, then.” Sheila withdrew her hand with a single nod. Then, she walked away.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:15, Tue 05 Apr 2022.

"I would never hurt her," said Tara, firmly.  "Ever.  Nor allow any to harm her, while I breathe."

...although what she could do to prevent a dragon from harming her had yet to be determined.  She hurried off to the ceremony with the twins.

Sprinkle smiled when Tempest gave her warning to Tara, having expected nothing else. And in truth, she would do the same if her sister had a person showing interest to her like Tara did with Sprinkle. She would never let her sister down, and would be devastated if she was to lose her.

The bond between the two of them ran deeper than even they realized after all, a link between their elemental spirits that got forged eons ago.

What she didn't expect was Sheila's warning to Tempest and by rebound, to her. So, Tara had a powerful family figure too, and for that, the cleric was glad. Family was all that she had after all, looking fondly towards the warrior that shared her traits. And Tara seemed to want to have a part in this family of her. She was wise enough to recognized that Tara's awkwardness towards her, confirmed by their short pillow talk as they got up, was a way for her to try to say her feelings. That was surprising for the genasi, as she had never imagined herself being loved by anyone else than Tempest. And to think that they had only met the day before!

Probing her own feelings, she realized that she was willing to explore this new experience. She couldn't say that she loved Tara now, but she certainly liked her, and the pretty wizard with flowers in her hairs was as exotic to her genasi eyes as she was to Tara's landwalker eyes. If only she knew how to act in a relationship!

Her only relationship point of reference was her parents, and she remembered wishing as a little girl that they would show the siblings the same affection they had for each other. But the girls were elemental mutants, monsters, and the cold and resentment pushed the girls to hang out even more together, Tempest becoming tougher to protect her little sister, Sprinkle becoming her confident and shoulder to cry on when Tempest was showing cracks in her emotional armor. Suddenly, the tears she was shedding for the little ones were not only for them but for the lost opportunities, and there was no mistaking the water on her face for what it really was.

Cela's Ghukliak is accented, but she's clearly comfortable with the sounds and has spoken the language frequently.  Goblin "My kind is called Tabaxi, but it's been a long time since I've seen another.  A member of the Ghukliak trained me.  Taught me to catch the rocks.  The only kin I have now is the crew of the Swanmay."


She pauses before talking about the town.
Goblin "These humans only gawked, but if I came here without Lenelle and Sundos... I think it might have been a different.  Humans that are isolated are fearful of difference."

This message was deleted by the player at 17:50, Thu 03 Mar 2022.

He blinked slowly in response.

^Goblin"It helps little that my people once raided these lands in bondage to the Divine, Hunting for the unique and the strange to satisfy his hunger. They have reason to fear the Children of the Black, reason to hate."

He paused, contemplative.

^Goblin"So much is different now, I had hoped to come here to make them see. Instead, I find myself here, Tracker for this..."

He switched to the common tongue, hissing the words as he realized they were standing here talking when they should have been walking.

"Where are the othersssss?  First light breakssss, it issss time to Hunt."

Even with his thick accent, Cela could hear the capital letter on the word.

Simon joined the funeral for the children, but stayed well back in the crowd. This was for the people of Deadwater, those who had lost children and perhaps had hoped they would one turn up hale and hearty, with stories of running away to see what lay beyond the swamp.

Those hopes were dashed by the appearance of the basket of bones. But perhaps it would allow the parents to close that chapter, knowing it was truly over.

When the ceremony ended, the warlock went to Sheila's shop, to see if she had managed to put together a waterproof bag for his book.

He was happy to see a bag large enough for two books was waiting for him.

"Keep the town safe while we are gone Sheila. If any of them are daft enough to try to fight the beast, tell them to use bows, keep spread apart and to stay under cover."

---

[Edit: picked up bag.]
This message was last edited by the player at 05:25, Fri 04 Mar 2022.

Tara arrived at the ceremony with Tempest and Sprinkle, Gwyll on her shoulder, and her soul fighting through vast emotional wars.  Things were going well?  Perhaps?  But it was time to hunt a dragon...

Telric shows up eventually. Needless to say, a bit much on the pipeweed makes one late. Granted if anyone asks, he would just say artificers arrives percisely when they mean to. Of course, anyone using that old chestnut is clearly late a lot of the time.

OOC-did I get any extra potions of healings via my herbalism skills?

"Getting ready for the ceremony.  I need to go too."

"Ceremony?"

Sskith asked, clearly confused.

"To Hunt? Why did they not perform ssssuch a thing last night by the fire? The light of the sssssun breaks the sssky. Already black wingssss could be beating. The trail growssss cold..."

Just when he thought he had an understanding of these people, they do something confounding.

Tempest, standing next to her sister, saw the tears, and she frowned. She never knew the child, and such emotions shouldn't cast in her mind.

When sprinkle looked at Tara, she understood, and faced forward. The tears aren't all for teh child. she thought to herself. She suspected that her sister felt something with the little one - some attraction. Tempest didn't quite understand, but then again that was where the two were so different. Tempest was, by comparison, the protector, the strong one. She was a quintessential warrior and a support person for sprinkle.

Her sister was more emotion- driven. Though Tempest felt the same emotions, she hid them, stored them deep. Sprinkle wore them like a mantle of honor. She felt fear, sadness, sorrow, joy, shoe showed them.

She knew her sister, and her mind. She knew that most of their pain stemmed from one place - their parents, the two figures who should have supported them that abandoned them. Even when they grew up, Tempest had her mentor, though not a father figure, she found in him a sturdy male role model that was akin to an uncle. Sprinkle never had that - all she had was her sister.

The genasi reached out and grasped her sisters hand in a uncharacteristic show of support and affection - proof of their close bond. She did not look at her, didn't need to. She knew her tears were for as much as their lost childhood as this one's

...but they had each other.

Tara's head was bowed.  She didn't weep... quite.  But that was her nature; she'd already seen too much of the evil the hags had done, and knew all too well what had happened here.  Knew more, and worse, than the townsfolk.  That the darkness was a bit more familiar... Oh, it hurt, and she mourned.  But she didn't weep easily.

As the ceremony ended, Sprinkle squeezed her sister's hand in a silent thank you, released her and wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hands. The horned giant ceremony had been moving, true, but it was her trip through memory lane that had her weep.

But now there was work to be done so she moved where she had stashed her meager belongings and strapped her bag on her back, shield in hand and dagger at her belt. Lifting her right hand, she made the vicious looking watery claws appear and swiped in the air, the droplets falling on the ground hissing and boiling, as the acid ate at the earth. Nodding, she reabsorbed the claws in her body and looked at Tempest, determined.

I'm ready... let's go kill a dragon.

Grog was uncertain how to take the compliments. A true knight? No, he was a farmer-turned-warrior; out of necessity, not some sense of duty or promises made to a higher power. A cleric?

...

That caused him to pause in thought.



Grog did not know this Tempest woman, but she honored the fallen children that she had not known herself. He would speak with her.

Later. For now, his thoughts were occupied by the need to kill a dragon.

~A cleric...~

Sskith was pacing back and forth in irritation when the others finally drew up to the assigned gathering place, his heavy tail lashing like a whip. His Echo mirrored him, following in his footsteps and hissing at them as they drew near. He said nothing though, merely stared at them, and sagely avoided marking the height of the sun on the horizon.

Tempest felt the pressure of her sisters ha d release and let it go  Normally she would tease her sister for tears, but not now- this situation and the memories she suspected her sister had gave her reason. When Sprinkle went to her gear, tempest, likewise put her pack on, gathered her shield and adjusted her sword.

She had no words, even as sprinkle spoke - her words were accurate and aloquent as always.

 ..it was time to hunt

"All right," said Tara. "It's time to prevent more tragedy here.  Are we ready?  I am."

She'd readied her Mage Armor and prepared her spells; it was time to do battle.

Grog turned toward Tara when he heard her question, "Yes." He walked over to another nearby tree and grabbed the large, silvered glaive and rested it on his shoulder, "Now is time for kills a dragon."

Beijor flounced out of the Sulphur's Spit once the ceremony had concluded and started walking north trilling a bird's call on the pennywhistle between his lips.

---

OOC:

Ritual-cast Speak with Animals in the bar before leaving.

Telric pays his bar tab and heads off with the others. He mentions something before they leave. "I have made some extra potions of healing for anyone who might want one. They are only the most basic level of healing, but better than nothing in a pinch."

Seth waited for the heroes to gather near the gate. The sun barely edged above the eastern horizon, but the Ranger knew they needed as much daylight as possible. Grog agreed with Seth, his Glaive ready for a bite of Dragonflesh! The Genasi twins accompanied Tara to the gathering. Telric passed out extra healing potions to those who needed one.

While Lenelle said her farewell to Joshua, Beijor sauntered behind them, whistling at a sleepy nightingale.  The tiny bird chirped lazily back at the Elf. Bathsheba caught up with Beijor, pressing a basket into his hands. The basket felt warm. “Here. You’ll all need food on your journey.”

Michael Stuart met Simon at the foot of the stairs that led to the Baron’s home. The man held out a waterproof leather horn. “If you would like, I could get a small regiment from the Baron’s personal guard to meet you near the Lizardfolk border. We have weapons far more powerful than spears or arrows.” Michael held out the horn. “If you encounter the Dragon before my men arrive, use this. Light it, hurl it at the Dragon, and run like your ass is on fire.” The handsome officer grinned. “Because if you’re slow, it will be!”


Once Cela & Jennet joined them, they group stared out at the Swamp, the trees spreading like an endless verdant wall before them…


OOC:

What do you do next?

 
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:58, Tue 08 Mar 2022.

Sskith set out without a word once the Hunting Party was gathered, walking in the direction the wounded Dragon had last been seen to fly as it had beat its retreat. Such wisdom meant little of course. Even if they had filled the great Vutha with fear, overwhelmed its mind with pain, would it have been so distracted as to flee in the direction of its lair? Surely not, for they were possessed of far more alien cunning than that. Truly, the Hunt that they had chosen for themselves was nearly an impossible thing, no matter Sskith's knowledge and wisdom of the swamp. To even attempt to track such Prey? The Dragon was master of the wind and the water, capable of alighting high within the night sky, and clever enough to lead them astray.

Yet they had one boon in their favor, one chance. For their prey had been wounded, pierced through with arrows, magic, and swords in a dozen cuts.

The Vutha had bled.

Surely it was not Divine then, to do such a thing? Even in the Matriarch's most raucous stories, when they might have drank too much of the tea of the Jasst Mushroom, they had never once sung of Sesskrith's iron scales ever being pierced. The Divine's spawn, grown by unnatural magics as it was, had bled to their attacks. His own bow had pierced its flesh, infused with his Echo's thunderous breath. Baleful Blackfang it had been named, not Baleful the Divine. He could bleed, and thus there was a chance he could be tracked. Blood fallen from in his could be found, could be smelled, could be followed. It was not an impossible thing to track Baleful, merely a Hunt for fools.

He was a fool then, for he Hunted.

If the fact that he's flying cancels out my advantage, which is likely, I only got a 17.  Otherwise I got a 21.

19:53, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 21 using 2d20+8, dropping the lowest dice only.  Survival + Favored Enemy + Favored Terrain

19:53, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 21 using 2d20+8, dropping the lowest dice only ((9,13)).
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 04:32, Tue 08 Mar 2022.

Simon looks at the soldier for a moment, before reaching out to take the horn. "I would prefer that you and your men go deal with dragon, and I will wait in the tavern..." a smile cracks across the warlock's face.

"But I guess we all have to play the pieces in front of us. Your men's help will be most appreciated."

Simon reaches out and shakes Stuart's hand; and then turns to join his companions at the village gate.

---

"The entrance to the tunnel is in the cellar," he announces. "I have no idea how we missed it before. But that should be where we start."

"That is most welcome, Telric. My record in battle generally sees me unconscious or near death."

---

If Telric has enough potions for everyone, then Simon will take one, but if not he will defer to those that will get closer to the dragon.

Sprinkle went to Telric when he made his announcement about the potions.

Good morning Telric. I hope you slept well. If you don't mind, I would like Tempest and myself to have a potion.

Thanking the artificer after taking the small bottles, she put one in her belt pouch and presented the other one to her sister.

In case that overgrown flying eel bites you again and I'm not near you.

OOC : I noticed that in the loot thread there are healing potions distributed to the genasi twins already, so we would have 2 each now, right?

Beijor continued to play his whistle as he strolled slowly away from the town, playing high trills and slurs from the bottom to the top of his range.

"We should all carry some healing," said Tara.  "And try not to be too clumped up.  That thing's acid did us too much harm last time, and we might have to depend on a small number to revive the fallen, so all should be capable."

She was nervous about all this, of course, but they had to do what must be done.  And she didn't want to let Tempest and Sprinkle down...

Tempest took the potion, placing it in a pouch, her smile to sprinkle was a wry one. “Trust me….that gecko bites me again, it’ll find I bite back.”

She looked at the group as a whole. “She’s right - the more separated we are, the harder it will be to hit us with that acid. We get some room, seperate and flank it where you can. Priority is to keep it grounded so those of us without magic can attack it. Keep those who can heal alive….they keep us all alive….and try to stay away from its mouth.”

"Let's hope the dragon agrees to stick to our plan.

It turns out the Baron's man in far more a man than the baron.

He provided me with this," Simon holds up the horn, "Which is apparently some sort of alchemical fireball...and he said some of the guards may join us with other powerful weapons."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:23, Thu 10 Mar 2022.

"I have one," Cela tells Telric.  "But another is always welcome.  Thank you."

Telric nods at everyone taking a potion. "Just remember, those in the front line stay nearby Jenkins so he can keep giving you fields of protection." He reminds everyone.

"That is saying little enough, but good to know," quipped Lenelle.  "Though, I've got to agree he does seem cut from a wholly different kind of cloth. And if he makes good on the promise of that help, then he is a real and true ally."



Lenelle pulled the ruby like gem from her belt pouch briefly. "There is still this, as well.  A bit more than just a fireball, if it comes to needing to halt that thing."   

She uttered soft and formal sounding syllables, and traced a brief figure with the other hand, as she slipped the gem back within her pouch.  Casting Mage armor

So warded, she was as ready as she'd ever be; though her thoughts were with Joshua and Deadwater, as much as she could afford them to be.

"If we do succeed," she said, walking near to Beijor, "I'm certain you'll have ample material for a new ballad. I just hope it doesn't fall to someone else to write a tragedy."

Whatever else she was doing, Lenelle tended to keep some amount of attention on Seth. Reckoning him a source early warning, in facing his people, and the nightmare monstrosity he referred to as a Vutha.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:38, Wed 09 Mar 2022.

Tempest heard Simon and Lenelle and managed a smile. "I don't know who you speak of, but this man and his soldiers are willing to help, they have my respect."

She looked at Lenelle with a smile. "This is the only time id wish him live - for if we do survive this, it will be an epic tale lady." She looks forward as she walks. "...maybe his constant talking will distract it enough for me to tear the dragon's heart out?"

"Stranger things have happened," said Tara, thoughtfully.  "Who knows?  We may find a good opening..."

Grog took one of the healing vials that was offered to him, tucking it away with the others. Hopefully they wouldn't have much need for them. But if they did, it was certainly better to have them than not.

No more prep for Grog, I think. I'm ready go slay a dragon.

Sprinkle had not been with Beijor for any significant length of time so the elf troubadour was still a stranger to her. But the way Tempest was talking about him, he seemed to be quite the character. Still she asked, curious.

Why are you so emotional about the elf, Sis? What happened between you two?

As Tara spoke of weird things happening, she glanced at the small wizard and wondered why she had said that.. was it between the two of them? That one she let slide and kept silent, following Seth.

At an hour past dawn, the party left Deadwater. The moist air felt thick in their throats, and they sensed the promise of an unbearably hot day. Not the heat of the desert that Simon knew, or but a heat that saturated a body. Seth scented the air and smelled minute traces of Baleful Blackfang’s acrid blood. The Dragon indeed trailed bloody droplets that spattered on the occasional leaf or blade of grass. The trail soon vanished, but he knew it led toward the general direction of the Swamp where Druids & Lizardmen dwelled.

Tempest walked beside her sister, and at the question, looked at the man. "He reminds me of our cousin....talks too much and thinks his tears are pearls. Make my nerves stand up faster than a pufferfish."

She thought of her cousin, the obnoxious sea elf who believed he was more entitled than her and her sister. The twins were not sea elves, but still held some royal blood, and thaht held a little weight. He believed thaht the two were nothing but garbage.

....tempest enjoyed punching him.

The bard was not nearly as obnoxious, but held the same haughty self confidence. Perhaps that why she disliked him.

She shrugged as she walked. "He talks too much - you do enough talking for me."

"I should have prepared the alchemy jug." Telric grumbled, swiping the sweat from his brow. He reaches into his bag, and pulls out his tools. A few moments later, he designs a mini automatic fan, which seems to help cool him off a bit. He offers it to anyone else tired of the heat.

"Oh, that's neat!" Jennet pipes up. "How does it work? I don't need it, but I can hold it for someone!"

"You don't remember Mr. Stuart, the Baron's man, from the gathering?" Asked Lenelle.  "That tall, good looking, well spoken soldier?" 


Lenelle smiled in turn. "I've...gathered you're not entirely fond of his manner.  You know, all my life, I've wanted to learn what elves were like, because my father was one, and I was told what they were like, but never knew first hand.  I've heard you and your sister say you grew up among them.  And in fact, I wanted to ask you..."  she whispered to Tempest.

Grog said little-to-nothing as they set out to hunt the dragon. The ceremony for the little ones weighed on him a bit, but it was the words of those who had come in attendance that occupied his mind. When it came time to face the dragon, he would banish those thoughts and focus on the task at hand, but for now it was up to others to lead them and for him to follow, and those words proved a worthwhile distraction for passing the time.

Beijor only stopped to let his whistle hang on its lanyard once to draw a purple scarf from his pocket, tying it around his head to keep his hair off his neck against the heat. Otherwise he walked light-footed down the forest path, blending imitations of the calls of the birds they encountered with his own arhythmic improvisations.

In reply to Jennet (msg # 216):

Telric nods, and show Jennet how the rotating blades speed can be adjusted for various cooling wind speed. Of course he has one for himself, as the heat was still beastly. He still grumbles about not preparing an alchemy jug.

Tempest looked at Beijor as Lenelle spoke to her, and whispered. She chewed her lip as she did, thinking how to answer it. "I don't know if the surface elves are like the sea elves...I have met only one surface elf and he seemed nice, a hunter and tracker by trade. we spent a night in camp and he spoke of animals, many we had never seen or heard of." She smiled at the thought, but then her expression darkened.

"The village where sprinkle and I grew up had a sizable population of aquatic elves. We met other tribes and they were similar in nature - recluse and protective. My village - my family saw its kind superior. When we were born not as elves...well, their reaction to us was cold at best. even our own mother, a queen in our land, saw us as a stain on her name."

The genasi sighed a as she continued. "Very few of the sea elves accepted us for what we are....one such was our mentor, a commander in my mothers army. He taught us to fight, taught me all I know." She looked at Tenelle. "So, as to my experiences, they are limited, but i think that, or more hope that all his ki d are not like him."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:56, Fri 11 Mar 2022.

Despite the muck underfoot, Seth led the party toward the patches of solid ground. What would have been difficult terrain the last time seemed easier with Seth as their scout. The next hour passed with no incident beyond mosquito bites. Lenelle and Sprinkle in particular swatted at the annoying pests. Luckily, Tara shared an ointment provided by Sheila that smelled minty and repelled the mosquitoes. Nothing of interest happened, until Seth heard a splash from their right…

Sskith had watched Telric hand out the potions passively, but had clearly not been expecting to receive one himself from the Artificer. He blinked twice in surprise, head rearing back slightly within his cowled hood, before giving a slow blink of thanks.

"Thissss will be remembered, Telric"

He said slowly as he accepted the proffered item, removing a piece of twine from his bag to tie the vial firmly to his belt. When not leading the party, he did his best to remain near Lenelle, almost using her as a shield between himself and the others. It seemed Telric's gift had broken through some of his standoffish behavior though, for he reacted not at all during those times when the man drew near. He watched them all with interest though, especially when Tempest spoke of her people. He was not the only outsider here, yet the Water Genasi already seemed far more comfortable among these Scaleless than he.

---

The splashing of water drew his head in a sharp jerk, and almost on instinct he drew an arrow from his quiver and held it to the strong. With a nearly subsonic hiss, his Echo set off in the direction of the noise, Sskith dropping into a crouch with his bow held ready as he watched.

Perception: 23

17:42, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 36 using 2d20+5 ((18,13)).
This message was last edited by the player at 06:15, Sun 13 Mar 2022.

Tempest walked behind, her eyes on the lizardman leading. When he flinched, hissing, she stopped, holding her arm out to sprinkle, she drew her sword and grabbed her shield. "It begins..." she whispered

As Tempest was talking to Lenelle about the surface elf they had encountered, a hunter of some sort, Sprinkles scoffed.

All he really wanted was to kill the animals, not protect them. I don't think he cared too much about them. Anyway, it's a good thing we didn't stay too long with him, he smelled funny and I'm pretty sure he wanted to get in your breaches, Sis.

Lowering her voice, she directed her attention to Tara, winking.

Tempest thinks I talk too much, but you should have heard that elf, he never stopped! Half of it might have been invented too.

They walked a little more then she asked the wizard.

Do you have the possibility of rendering someone invisible? I was thinking about the dragon and how to curse him... since I have to touch him, it would be better if he didn't see me.


With Tempest talking about them being of royal blood, the natural cleric frowned. She didn't want that reminder, didn't want that part of her life revealed... but since it was in the open now, she smiled mischievously and wiggled her fingers. Suddenly, Tempest was wearing a delicate ornamented golden crown and a full length red dress, embroiled with gold and silver, and covered with pearls, a favorite of their mother.

She didn't say a word and waited until Tempest realized the illusion to dispel it, giggling.

Later on, When the lizard-man crouched, watching for something, she made sure her shield was well in place and took her position at her sister's back, trying to determine what had attracted Seth's attention.

Today: Sprinkle rolled 22 using 1d20+6.  sprinkle perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:21, Sun 13 Mar 2022.

Lenelle listened to the elemental warrioress, and then offered in turn:

"It's a familiar sounding and feeling story for me. Almost parallel, in many ways.  I was born among human kind...in a place quite isolated, and highly devoted to its traditions.  Only a single faith was held as legitimate there, and sanctioned for practice.  Its dogma quite pervasive, and mingled with the law.  So much so that in some things it's impossible to separate the two."

"Races other than human are seen as heathen, and suspect of all sorts of mischief and dark practices.  I had the ill luck to be conceived a bastard half-elf, though the man who became my human father wanted my mother badly enough that he married her while carrying me, and adopted me after birth.  Which might sound rosy, but wasn't at all.  He never let me forget my origins and mixed blood were inherently sinful. I was told terrible things about the elves whose blood I share; that they are deviants, criminals, and perverts to a one.  Past a certain age, I wished to believe otherwise, that they were kinder, more tolerant, and might have loved me the way my human parents refused to do. But your story pretty much quashes that."     She frowned.

"Anyway, once my sorcery manifested...it only grew worse.  I was routinely forced to do penitence...which sometimes consisted of being isolated for days on end, with only water and rice to subsist on. And made to scribe-copy the catechisms over and over."

She finished:  "I had a dim view of religion and priests when I showed up in Deadwater.  But, meeting both Mercion and Sundos - as well as Joshua, whose practice of their faith is kind hearted and pure - has served to change my mind. More quickly than I'd have thought possible." 

Caught up in Tempest's tale, and then her own reverie and revelation, Lenelle had ceased observing Seth or much of anything else.  Until Tempest whispered her warning, and began readying herself...at which point Lenelle was rattled back to the present moment; trying but failing to orient herself quickly...

Perception check = 5;  which is a natural 1 + skill bonus...

Beijor stopped his playing and looked at the water, his right hand descending to his sword's hilt.

---

OOC:

15:16, Today: Beijor rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  Perception - splash.

Simon trod along with the group, saying little. His face indicated he was preoccupied with his own thoughts.

The splash, however, was loud enough to immediately grab his attention. He looked to the right, trying to see what had made the noise, and noted Seth had already moved in that direction.

"What is it?" he asked quietly.

With Lenelle sharing her story, the warrior smiled. "Don't believe what you always hear. My parents, My kind saw all races below them. Humans were hedonistic, greedy and self absorbed. Dwarves were bad tempered, stubborn and not to be trusted. Elves haughty, self inflated and secretive. gnomes were dangerous, halfling's deceptive and half orcs as good as being monsters. Even mixed elemental blood, like myself and my sister, were seen as a taint and curse."

It was at this time the illusion appeared on Tempest as she walked. "My point is don't always believe what others say and trust your own instincts. We have met many humans that are greedy, barbaric and cruel, but also some with kindness. Always tru...." her words trail off as she looks at herself, then glares at Sprinkle with a murderous look.

"I told you if you did this again I'd feed you to the sharks! There are none here, but there's a big damn dragon around!" She continued looking at her until it was dispelled and snorted.

"Such a child..." She muttered

Tara started, but couldn't identify the splash.  She tensed, ready to act, but what should she do?  Pointless to prepare a spell without knowing what the cause was...

Without preamble, Jennet's psychic blades appear in his hands. He waits, expectantly, either for something to use them on... or a sign that his friends can resume their conversation.

He'd been interested in that, toward the end.

Back to back with her sister, watery claws extended and ready to strike, she couldn't resist one last jab at her sibling.

You know I would just charm that shark... there, over that group of trees, you watch there, I'll check to make sure it's not a diversion.

Trusting Tempest to protect her from the direction of the splash she had heard, she started a slow scan of the remaining circle around them, in a well practiced maneuver that had saved them a few times already.


Today: Sprinkle rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  perception .

OOC: Everyone who beat the DC…

IC: Everyone heard the splash, but only the keenest senses—Elven, Lizard, Tabaxi, Genesis, or other—saw the source of the ripple. Near the tree line along a nearby river, they saw movement. Olive-green & brownish skin that camouflaged against the backdrop of the swamp. Bulbous eyes gave them away, watching the group. Seth & Sprinkle saw them first—Bullywogs. Ten of them lurked among the trees, lying in wait for the party!

OOC2:

Roll Initiative!

10

15:19, Today: Cela rolled 15 using 1d20+3.  init.

OOC-15:27, Today: Telric Televentor rolled 11 using 1d20+2.  Initiative .

13:41, Today: Jennet rolled 12 using 1d20+2.  INITIATIVE.

Pointing towards the amphibious creatures, Sprinkle warned her companions.

Bullywugs!

Where are the rest?


Today: Sprinkle rolled 12 using 1d20+2.  init.
Today: Sprinkle rolled 7 using 1d20+3.  nature.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:06, Tue 15 Mar 2022.

16:27, Today: Beijor rolled 19 using 1d20+3.  Initiative .

Lenelle was sorry to have the conversation cut at that point; beginning to see that Tempest was more worldly than herself, and both interesting as well as worth listening to.

Once the potential enemy was named, however, she held up a forestalling hand toward her comrades:

"Joshua told me that these folk are not so bad.  That once, they were under the dominance of a brutal and cruel leader, but that he was deposed, and now they are not necessarily hostile.   Perhaps we can avoid conflict?"   

Lenelle stepped forward some, called out -- "Folk of the swamp!  We are from Deadwater, just passing through, and mean you no harm! May we speak?"   She made an upturned, open palm gesture that - back at home at least - indicated a desire for peace.

She had no clue whether they spoke common at all...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 15 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

It took a moment for Simon to spot the creatures that made the splashing. He had heard of bullywugs, and of course had read something about them, but until now he had never seen one before.

"Do you speak their language, Seth?" he whispered as he watched Lenelle try to broker peaceful passage.

---

Simon rolled 13 for Perception.
Simon rolled 17 for Initiative.

Grog had come to kill a dragon, not frog people. If he had to, he would, but he'd rather not.

20:08, Today: Grog rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  Initiative. – [roll=1647392914.05737.356431]

Sskith had little love for the self proclaimed "lords of the swamp."

"They have their own foul tongue."

He whispered back, notching an arrow and drawing back the string.


19:58, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 14 using 1d20+2 ((12)).

Tempest, at her sister's side, had her sword and shield ready before she even spi=oke, seeing every movement as a threat. When she spoke, she snorted. "People that look like frogs - thats a new one." She muttered.

When Lenelle spoke, she relaxed her pose, but was ready should they attack anyone.

---

<OOC: Tempest rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  iniative.>
This message was last edited by the player at 03:44, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

Tara did nothing, but waited, warily.  Perhaps they could talk their way through this...  Perhaps.

Cela tenses up and extends her claws, but makes no move to attack until she sees the reaction to Lennelle's plea.

Incredibly, the foremost Bullywug stepped forward with his spear held out horizontally. His fellows croaked in protest, but he belched a harsh response that silenced them. He stopped a safe distance from the group. “We no want fight.” The Bullywug spoke in broken Common in a series of guttural croaks. Speaking in Common sounded like a painful effort.

“We no want fight, but Scaled Ones say if we no fight, then they make our God eat us!”

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 247):

Telric holds his staff at the ready, but does not attack. "Someone may want mention we plan to deal with said God. We deal with it or it deals with us. Ether way the Bullywugs should be fine..." He mutters to his friends.

The swamp brightened with Beijor's delighted laugh.

"And would this God of yours do the bidding of these 'scaled ones'? Surely it agrees to scaly requests because it is his own will! He wouldn't command this fight."

---

OOC:

13:46, Today: Beijor rolled 13 using 1d20+6.  Persuasion (Deception).
Dunno how you want to treat theological discussion. Lol. It's 16 for deception.

It was hard to understand them, but not impossible.   However, she didn't see how a protracted debate would be possible.

"That 'god' is not a god," Lenelle assured them.

"It is a monster, one that threatens our folk too.  And we go to stop it, once and for all.   It attacked our home, and we hurt it enough to make it fly away.  It can be killed, like any beast. We have magic, and are more than what we look to be." 

That was also to let them know picking a fight with the party was not one they were likely to walk away from.

"Let us pass, and we will make sure you live free from the scaly ones, and their false god.  Are there any injured or sick among you?  We can offer healing, as a sign of good faith. Something I'm sure this god has never done."   
This message was last edited by the player at 20:18, Wed 16 Mar 2022.

Sprinkle let her claws disappear when Lenelle offered healing to the frog-men and moved beside the half-elf. She didn't want to break the dialogue that was taking place so she stayed silent, only slightly smiling, as she called up some water from the swamp to her hand in her customary ball, and looked at her fellow healer to signify that she was ready to support her.

Simon was as surprised as the bullywugs when their leader stepped forward to parley with Lenelle.

The warlock reached out to Seth and motioned for him to lower his bow, whispering, "I once read a manuscript written by a great warlord, he said, 'The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.' We should heed that advice."

Tempest mirrored her sister's movements, and sheathed her sword on the other side of Lenelle....though her demeanor was the same - serious and defensive

Tara stayed back, trying to not draw attention to herself, but she kept the wand she'd been given at the ready.  Fighting the bullywugs didn't seem necessary, and if she just entangled them, they might be able to be on their way even if hostilities broke out, without doing anything that couldn't be undone.

Sskith let out a low whistle, and his Echo beat a hasty retreat away from the Bullywugs, moving back to his feet. He lower his bow and removed the arrow from its string, but did not place it back in his quiver.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Thu 17 Mar 2022.

“No mean Scaled Ones God. Mean Bullywug God! He a great and terrible god!” While the group pulled back and spoke with the Bullywugs, Sprinkle summoned a ball of water from the river. Droplets floated and coalesced in the exotic woman’s hand. Back at the river, the surface of the river bubbled once, twice.

"Damn it to hell!" Simon muttered quietly, noticing the bubbling in the water.

"That same warlord also said, 'Don't just sit there and let them hit you'...or maybe that was my mother." Simon adds, as he points to the bubbling in the water.

"Something in the water!" He says more loudly, so the three women in front are not taken unaware.

---

Simon rolled 8 for Initiative. Just being pro-active with my horrible roll!

Simon's first action will be to cast Water Breathing on the party. Which he should have done before they left the village!!

Simon’s warning alerted the group to what looked like a snake slithering from the riverbank. The Bullywugs all noticed and nearly tripped over themselves fleeing the river! “IT HERE! OUR GOD HERE!!”

Suddenly, the surface of the river broke as the rest of the “snake”—or what was attached it to it—burst from the waters with a basso croak! A slime-green nightmare the size of an upright elephant lumbered from the water, standing over twenty feet tall! The creature stood on massive webbed feet supported by legs as thick as oak trees! Four tentacles attacked to an enormous body covered in amphibious skin. A stalk with three bulbous eyes stared at them over a sharp-toothed maw large enough to swallow a horse whole! A barbed tongue whipped from the maw, as the “God” lurched toward Sprinkle & Tara!

OOC:

00:46, Today: Secret Roll: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Initiative .

Simon will go after the “God”. Everyone else roll Initiative!

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 258):

ooc-01:01, Today: Telric Televentor rolled 21 using 1d20+2.  Initiative .

07:21, Today: Beijor rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Initiative .

Umberlee's Curse!


Today: Sprinkle rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  Sprinkle initiative *cries*
This message was last edited by the player at 11:51, Thu 17 Mar 2022.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  Initiative. Bleh.  How mediocre...I'd almost rather have a lower roll and write something creative about it. 

Lenelle looked stunned at this thing, that defied any attempt she could make to name or categorize it.   Other than what she'd already said:

False god!     And that made this personal!  A false deity, and its faux clergy, made the otherwise beautiful place she'd been born in a kind of hell.  She was beyond sick of such; and determined to defend the two allies who were nearest to it.    Eldritch words flared in her mind...
This message was last edited by the player at 23:18, Thu 17 Mar 2022.

15

This monstrosity was horrifying!  But Tara was willing to attempt the battle.  Her wand would be of little use against such a beast, but it should be a good test for the full power of her magics...

Ssith hissed, and his Echo fearlessly charged the massive thing. Despite barely coming up to its ankle, his lightning filled maw snapped and crackles with power as he vainly tried to find purchase.

Sskith was much more fortunate, being well away from the false God. He notched his arrow, and as his Echo let out a roar the arrowhead crackled with electricity. He loosed, striking it squarely in the flank. Without hesitation he drew out another, this one striking home and burying itself in the thing's bulbous cheek.

Action: Attack Twice with longbow
-First hits on a 20 for 7 Piercing and 6 Lightning damage
-Second hits on a 25 for 6 Piercing
Bonus:
Command Drake to bite, miss

19:07, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 14 using 1d20+2 ((12)).
18:51, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 19 using 2d8+4+1d6 ((5,4,6)).
18:51, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  Drake chomp.
18:50, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 25 using 1d20+7.  Longbow 2.
18:50, Today: Seth Sskith rolled 20 using 1d20+7.  Longbow 1
This message was last edited by the player at 01:59, Sun 20 Mar 2022.

11:50, Today: Cela rolled 13 using 1d20+3.  init.

Grog knew that today was going to be big, setting out to fight a dragon as they were. He hasn't planned on fighting a god, but he couldn't think of any other preparations he could have made for a god that he hadn't already made for a dragon, so it was about as good a day as any he could hope for.  He took his large glaive in a two-handed grip as he strode forward, and then attacked a god.

Initiative: 18
Move: into melee range of the god (10 ft reach)
Action: Attack with Large Silvered Glaive
Attack 1: Hits AC 21 for 15 Slashing damage.
Attack 2: Hits AC 20 for 15 Slashing damage

13:17, Today: Grog rolled 5,4 using d10,d10.  Large damage dice. – [roll=1647627445.44802.356431]
13:10, Today: Grog rolled 21,10,20,11 using d20+6,1d10+4,d20+4,1d10+4.  Glaive Attack. – [roll=1647627050.62755.356431]
13:07, Today: Grog rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  Initiative. – [roll=1647626827.93378.356431]

Tempest saw the attack coming and had her sword out in a flash, as she drew it, swung twice, the first hitting the false god, ice building up against the wound, the second missing.

---

<OOC: Tempest rolled 14 using 1d20+1.  iniative.

Action - Attack using Frostbyte

Attack 1 - Tempest rolled 22 using 1d20+5.  attack - Frostbrand.

Tempest rolled 3 using 1d8+2.  damage - frostbrand.
Tempest rolled 6 using 1d6.  frost damage - frostbyte.

Attack 2 -  Tempest rolled 12 using 1d20+5.  attack - Frostbrand.

Bonus Action - Shield Master Shove (if within 5 feet)

Reaction - Interception. Next attack against Sprinkle (or Lenelle) reduces damage

Tempest rolled 12 using 1d10+3.  interception

Damage reduced by 12>

Telric reached into his bag, and a smaller version of Higgins came out. He placed the multi-limbed construct on his shoulder. Tapping it once, it sent out the same protective field as before. Insuring all Telric's allies had some level of protection.

ooc:
09:29, Today: Telric Televentor rolled 5 using 1d8+2.

Moving to center of group to reach maximum number of players. If need be I will focus on the front line fighters. Everyone within 10' of Telric gains 5 temp hp.

Saving reaction for enemy movement or attack.

This message was last edited by the player at 13:36, Sat 19 Mar 2022.

The quick reaction of Tempest shook Sprinkle out of her daze at seeing the horrid, unnatural creature, and she jumped at her customary battle position, back to back with her sister. Turning with the warrior, she extended her claws in a flash and struck, a good strike that didn't penetrate far in the beast's hide.


Primal savagery, 25 to hit, 6 acid damage

Today: Sprinkle rolled 25,6 using 1d20+7,2d10.  primal savagery attack & damage

Focusing her will, Lenelle drew upon personal reserves to infuse greater manna into her casting, allowing her to abbreviate her first spell:

"Cy'eith!" she declared, making a fast, clean motion with a hand, and sending a searing lance of light at the so-called god.

And immediately after, followed with a cantrip, that sent a line of fire burning in its wake...

Metamagic: Quickened spell; 2 sorcery points (Guiding bolt)
Bonus action:  Cast guiding bolt (as level 3)
Standard:  Cast firebolt canptrip

Lenelle Toreth rolled 23 using 1d20+7.  guiding bolt, to hit
Lenelle Toreth rolled 26 using 1d20+7.  firebolt, to hit

Lenelle Toreth rolled 20 using 6d6.  guiding bolt damage.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 16 using 2d10.  firebolt damage.

Total damage = 36 points, if both hit

+Guiding bolt will give next character attack advantage, due to lingering light.

This message was last edited by the player at 17:07, Sat 19 Mar 2022.

Simon's jaw dropped open as the bubbles in the water gave way to an enormous monstrosity. "Zann's nuts! What is that?" The warlock profaned his patron deity of knowledge without even realising it.

"First a coven of hags, then a dragon, and now this...this...thing! This swamp is truly cursed!"

Simon starts to reach for the book in his pack so he can sketch this creature...but the battle cries of his friends bring him back to reality.

"Mysticus!" he shouts, as if yelling will offset the size of the target.

He then steps back, wanting to avoid the tentacles.

---

Cast Eldritch Blast, advantage due to Lenelle's Guiding Bolt.
Simon rolled 25 with ADV, for 10 force and 3 thunder = 13 damage.
Simon rolled 24 for 5 force damage.

Total damage = 15 force + 3 thunder = 18.

Move 30 ft away from creature.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:02, Thu 24 Mar 2022.