The journey so far had occurred with little incident and a considerable amount of favor from Selune, who’d blessed The Swanmay with a map of crystalline stars against black velvet sky. By day, the crew cleaned the decks, and managed the daily tasks of maintaining a merchant ship. By night, they also worked, following a route illuminated by guiding stars, while a select few maintained the night watch. Their trade route began in Corymyr, ending in the wealthy nation of Sembia.

Captain Amara McKeel ran The Swanmay with an exacting attention to detail, and no reluctant to wield a tongue as sharp as any rapier when the sailors bungled a task. However, her tongue was commensurately as honeyed when they performed their jobs well. Perhaps one day brought groans and bickering, but there were more times when laughter and song was heard. Amara hired only men and women that she trusted, even if not always liked. Among their number were a motley collection of travelers who either joined for a short-lived job, or needed passage by ship for reasons of their own: Azatch the Half-Orc, Cela the Tabaxi, Grog the Minotaur, Lenelle the Half-Elf, and three humans named Simon, Sundos, & Moonsong.

Shortly before the third week, the good luck of The Swanmay reached a cacophonous end. Gone was Selune’s grace, as Umberlee unleashed her wrath upon the ship! Darkened clouds portended troubles, as a hurricane soon slammed The Swanmay close to an undesirable region known as “The Vast Swamp”. Furious winds buffeted the ship, as Captain and crew desperately fought to save it and themselves from Umberlee’s rapacious embrace! Only a last-minute act of steering toward an estuary saved them all from death.

The Swanmay and her crew would live to sail again...but not any day soon. The ship suffered considerable damage to the hull and sails, and ran aground on a marshy bank facing what surely must have been an endless stretch of swamp...

“The Bitch Queen had her way with my poor ship!” A thick-bodied beauty groaned in an alto that somehow managed to make complaining sound silken. Amara McKeel, Captain of The Swanmay, shook her head as she surveyed the outcome of the hurricane. She checked in on her crew, looking at the most wounded with concern. “How are you? If you’re unhurt, help someone who wasn’t as lucky.”

Grog may not typically be a heavy sleeper, but something about the boat swaying in the breeze was so calming... he spent most of the trip quite asleep.  Not that the crew spent much time trying to keep him 'helpful' given his lack of sea-hooves on the deck would mean a rather difficult time getting back from the water.

That said, even Grog found it odd he could sleep through a shipwreck.  Not that he knew that when he woke up.  It looked like he missed a party, and he was upset to be left out until he got above deck.  "Oh."  He dropped the 'drunk' he hauled up to use as his complaint, water getting smashed from his lungs.  "Need thew?"

A half-drowned sailor hacked up water as he stared up at the Minotaur with eyes pleading to let the recently passed hurricane take him instead. Amara ran over and took his arm around her shoulder. “NO!” She yelled that in a tone one usually saved for a dog that shit the rug. She remembered his condition, though, and forced a smile. “Go help your friends,” she said, motioning toward Lenelle.

Simon glances at the sudden production of more water in the marsh and shrugs, then examines the swamp in front of him, "Pity, probably only eels in that. Still, better than nothing." With that, he sits, and changes his boots, putting on his hip waders.

'Not friend.' Grog considered to himself.  Not that it stopped him from heading over to see if Lenelle needed that brawn he offered the captain regardless.

Grog made his way over to Lenelle.   If she was unfortunate enough to be laying down, she got a rough pat on the back.  He wasn't being helpful so much as getting her attention.  If she was awake, he'd just silently attempt to join in whatever she was working on until told otherwise.  It was something to do after all.

The brackish odor of marsh water wafted toward Simon on a gentle breeze. The calm wind belied the rage of the previous hour. Amidst groans of the wounded, and the able-bodied shaking off the ordeal, Simon found a spot where he could test his fishing skill.

OOC: Roll a Survival check and find out!

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 7):

OOC:
Truthfully, I was just trying to keep his feet dry...

19:26, Today: Simon rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Eel fishing .

Sundos was afraid to wear is armor while on the ship. Every time he looked over the edge of the ship, he was glad he wasn't wearing it. He usually kept his mace close at hand an always wore an amulet.

Sundos made his way to the most wounded person he could see. With gentle words, he checked the injuries. "You will be alright. Let me look and see what happened to you."

Azatch did what he could during the storm, but he was no sailer. But the emergency energized him. The brutality of the tempest. A contest of will between himself and nuture. He told Amara of Deadwater, the place of his nativity.  She probably already knew it was there, but all the same.

"I'd be careful wading out there. Lizards so big, they'll bite you in two. Some of them might even say 'hello' before they do."

Simon wouldn’t find eels, but he caught a bass. The cook could fry it up for dinner. A few fish brushed his thighs as he braved the waters near the ship. A heron descended on a tree stump roughly sixty feet away. Its beak darted into the water, plucking out a fish.

A sandbar stretched in a thin line that broke the waters between the ship and shore. Simon saw a tree-line that grew denser, and imposing, as far as the eye could see...

Amara shook her head. “Never heard of Deadwater. Sounds more like ‘Backwater’, no offense,” she said with a shrug. Then, she titled her head sideways as she pondered that information. “Still, if you know the area, you could lead a small group there and get supplies so we can repair the ship. We’ll need pitch, timber, or at least more saws and axes for cutting down a few trees.”

Sundos noticed that nobody died, although twelve were bruised, and suffered broken bones and cuts. His ministrations were welcomed with a few grateful grunts from the wounded. A slender woman with flaxen hair knelt beside him. “As always, your first instinct is to think of others.” Moonsong smiled, as she offered her assistance in treating the injured.

"Of course no offense. This place isn't even a smudge on a map and it smells like shit. Nobody chooses the loins they come screaming out of." Azatch looks toward Deadwater, "They should have tools like that. Also, if we do come across any lizard folk, we might be able to barter for tools, they are cunning artisans."

Azatch thinks for a moment, "So, nobody died?"

OOC: How far away does Azatch estimate they are from Deadwater? Sorry if I missed it.

Although Azatch abandoned his hometown, he knew the area. From the estuary, he figured the river would lead to Deadwater in a half-day’s journey.

Shaken by the primal fury of the elements, as well as the untoward landing of the ship, (into a region of swampland no less), the hood that Lenelle normally kept raised had fallen backward.    Her expression was a mix of shock and concern; but the latter rose to the fore and impelled her to act.

She knelt attentively by a crewman who groaned, clasping painfully his broken arm.    There were lacerations visible through the rents in his tunic as well.

"Easy, easy," she soothed.  "I'm going to help."  One slender, lightly tanned hand went upon his shoulder, and she drew a breath, centering herself as much she could, under the circumstance.

"Ny'ess kor eltra; mor aleis veraul," she spoke under her breath; light spilled from betwixt her finger tips, rose and gold hued, not unlike the dawn.

Cure Wounds - I'm supposing a roll is irrelevant here, but will if it's needed.

She let go a breath as the spell began to take effect, and the pain in the man's face began to visibly ease, cuts closing and ceasing to bleed.     It was only then she realized the minotaur was looming over her.   It was as close to him as she'd been during the trip.   She glanced up, smiling, realizing he was looking to be helpful.

"How are you holding up, Grog?  Ever been to a swamp, before?"

The visible confusion on Grog's face as he attempts to mimick your aid will be quickly wiped off his face with a smile as he responds with a shake of his head and some cheer in his voice. "Kine avoid."  "New flavors.  No talk with dinner."

Having decided he was helpful enough to count, he'll give an annoyed glance twords the trees, then the captain, his arms, and with a shake of his head he'll make his way back down below to his gear, conveniently above the water line by merit of sharing his hammock space.  He takes his time to prepare all his gear, planning to depart.

Lenelle watched Grog leave, a little bemusedly.   Realizing she did not understand him, but thinking that she would make an attempt to. He - all of these fellow travelers - had suddenly become people she'd likely have to depend upon.

She'd overheard the dialog between Captain Amara and the half-orc, who apparently was a native of this region.   It wasn't encouraging, what she heard.  But, there were worse places to be stranded --  the Nine Hells?  She sighed, continued to aid anyone in need, and not otherwise attended to.

Once that was through, she went to collect her things, and prepare to get acquainted with Deadwater.   Come for the bog -- stay for the giant lizards?  Ugh!

Amara stared at the Vast Swamp, a landscape that accomplished the unlikely feat of looking lush and wretched at the same time. Another glance around the ship and her face reflected her decision. With a sigh, she nodded. “Alright. I don’t care for losing several mates while The Swanmay is in such sorry shape. It can’t be avoided, though.”

She reached up a hand and touched Azatch’s shoulder. “Lead a party to your hometown for supplies, maybe see if you can bring back help if they remember you fondly. If not...well, don’t let any swamp dirt gather under your boots.” She gestured toward the newest members of the crew: Cela, Grog, Lenelle, Simon, and Sundos. She couldn’t remember if the fair-haired woman in the Druid’s robes came with them or not.

“Take a few of the newcomers with you.”

Sundos nodded to Amara, "Aye, Captain. Let me just finish with him." Sundos finished healing the last badly injured crew member.

"Let me go get my gear."  With that, Sundo headed below decks to put on his armor and gather his gear. He has leaned from his time in the army to bring all of his traveling gear. Who knows when they will make it back to the ship.

"It definitely smells like a swamp."  Cela says.  The comment about boots bothers her a little - Cela doesn't wear shoes, they interfere with climbing.  "What kind of lizards are they?"  She asks Azatch.  Cela can speak Goblin.  Azatch can probably speak Orc.  Can they get their supplies from the lizards?

And when Sundos heads belowdeck, she asks "Could you grab my pack too?"  She keeps her things packed most of the time.

Grog had most of his gear strapped to his backpack (outside of what he was going to wear)  by the time Sundos came down.  Grog had donned the under-armor for his chainmail, and was inscribing a rune onto the right glove.  When Cela followed down briefly afterward, Grog had finished this rune.

Grog looks up the stairway twords Cela briefly with a serious expression, then reaches over and grabs her gear from it's resting spot.  He brings it up (along with taking the rest of his gear with him) and offers it to her looking like he just won a prize.

After Cela takes her pack, Grog will shift to inscribing a second (different) rune onto a visible spot on his bag...  A spot that has clearly seen the same rune there before.


((OOC: Now that you mention it Cela, Grog doesn't wear boots either.  They just aren't designed for hooves.))

((EDIT: Re-writing to fix a mis-read.))
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Tue 06 Apr 2021.

"Sure, Cela, I will get your pack."  Sundos liked Cela. He didn't know her very well yet.  But he knew she served in an army, like he did. Like him, her time in the military has changed her.

For Sundos, his faith in Pelar grew deeper and more profound with the things he witnessed and did in the his King's army. That was how he dealt with things.

He thought it strange that Cela didn't have any armor and didn't seem to have very many weapons. Sundos still used his armor, shield and weapons he learned in the army. True, he no longer carried a spear, he liked having a shield. And as a sergeant he didn't stand in the with a spear like he did as a fresh recruit.

Heading down the stairs, he was a little surprised to see Grog coming up the stairs with Cela's pack. "Oh.. I was... never mind, Grog." He stepped aside and allowed the larger Grog to go up and past him on the stairs before heading down to get his own gear.

When Sundos returned to the deck, Moonsong awaited him. “You are joining the away party, then? Will Simon go, too?” The trio had traveled the Sword Coast earlier in the year, experiencing their own adventures with two who went their own way (for the time being) after uncovering s conspiracy in Baldur’s Gate.

The job with Amara was hard work, but work of the mundane variety. Sundos found that time cultivated his faith through physical labor and ministry for the crew. It also offered time to further cultivate friendship, if such was his wish. The fair-skinned woman from the Northern Isles regarded Sundos as a friend, and hoped that she could call Simon the same. Crystalline blue eyes watched him for his answer.

"Thanks.  To both of you."  Cela straps on her pack.  The outside of it has a coil of rope and a Javelin designed for throwing, the only visible weapon she carries.  Any training she's done while aboard hasn't involved weapons - or armor as Sundos has noted.

"Amara, do you have a list of supplies you need?

Cela’s question proved timely, as Amara stood near the ship’s master carpenter. “Elias tells me that we need more canvas and ropes for the sails. If you find oakum, that would help, too. We’re using the last of ours to seal any weak points in the hull.” Amara stared at a point on the ship with a concerned frown. “We’ve lost our spare planks in the storm. Elias and his apprentice can cut down trees, but if there’s a carpenter in that town willing to part with his wood, I could spare the gold for that, too.”

Amara worked up a list for Cela. “I appreciate your practical mind, Cela. It’s come in handy for The Swanmay before, and it will help her again now. Here’s my list.”

Supplies

250 feet of rope (5 gp)
50 feet of oakum (2 gp)
4 buckets of pitch (6 gp)
Cart (15 gp)
Canvas, 6 large bolts (45 gp)
Carpenter’s tools (8 gp)
Draft Horse (50 gp—unless you find a good mule to save $)
Planks of wood, 20 (20 gp)
 

Cela accompanied Amara into the Captain’s cabin for the supply funds. Cela practically heard Amara’s teeth grind as she parted with 155 gold pieces! “Here’s the money for supplies. This should be enough. I included 4 extra gold for any food...or a bribe, if the locals prove unfriendly.” Amara looked at Cela for a beat. “If you or the honey-blonde honeypot out there can talk any merchants into a lower price, I’ll sweeten your payment when you return.”

Cela detaches the coil of rope from her bag.  "No sense carrying this all the way to town and bringing it back.". It won't cover all of what's needed but it's a start.

Amara flicked one gold coin at Cela with a grin. “You have 154 gold pieces for funds.” Then, she rummaged through cabinets and chests for an array of items. As she grabbed vials, scrolls, and a gem, she stuffed these into a small bag. “I intended to pay these bonuses at the end of your contracts, but you’re getting an early bonus this year.”

She beckoned at Cela. “Let’s go upstairs and assemble the party, then. Azatch is a local, and he’ll guide you to Deadwater. Like you, Sundos served in the army. He’s a talented healer, and he’s not a complainer when it comes to long marches. I think I’ll send Lenelle, too. She’s a healer, too, and I think she has a few surprises ready for any beasts or brigands that try it with you.”

As they returned to the deck, the Captain watched the crew and stared thoughtfully. “Hmm. Simon should join you. He’s clever, and also handy in a fight because the enemy underestimates him on first sight. Take the Minotaur, too. You’ll need the extra muscle. I’m not sure about the airy-fairy blonde. I know she joined up with Simon & Sundos, but I don’t know if she’s the adventurous sort. Take her or leave her as you will.”

Amara's request to 'take the minotaur' appears to be non-optional to anyone watching him finish preping the gear he had never worn the entire boat trip.  The familiarity with his equipment would be obvious to anyone familiar to adventurers, and the many repairs done notable to anyone keen to such details.

Once his second rune was finished, he unrolled the chain mesh that was the leggings to his chainmail. They clasp on the back rather then the front to accommodate his brown fuzzy tail, and have a random added clasp on the right knee, along with fitted clasps at the ankles to hold the armor in its proper place.  The back clasp tightens snugly enough to not need the attached belt that clasps at the side, with various adjustable loops for his things a bit large for strapping to his pack.  Grog's smithing hammer fits quite nicely on there.

His chain shirt makes it obvious this armor was adapted to fit him rather then made for him with a sequence of clasps down the front (with some overlap) to allow him to toss it on like a jacket, skipping his head.  Similar clasps for his wrists match his ankle clasps, but allow his large hands to fit through with ease before tightened.  His bag has an additional diagonal shoulder strap with a loose and worn fastener that his glaive is barely held on with.

Finally pulling up the jug of ale he'd been brewing up this trip so far, he glances at the swamp before attaching the jug's leather strap to a well-placed fastener at the extent of his blind reach backwards on his pack.  The jug's loose dangling appearing to be quite intentional.  One final set of tugs around various bits, and he was done.

There was a blanket wrapped around the tent strapped to the bottom of his pack... but unused metal loops along the top betraying the current design.  The glaive itself was silvered and well maintained.  The whetstone that took care for it was slightly too big for the side-pocket it was fitted into.

Grog eagerly made his way to depart the ship,  his golden eyes practically sparkling as he noted the thickening trees in the distance. 

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
'No help captain, help self.  New meals fun.'

---

  Should anyone make their way off the boat, Grog would be right behind them.

((OOC: Grog's proper introduction post.  Writing one up always puts me in the mood for an adventure.))

Simon gives his catch to the Cook, puts his pole away and heads back into the knee deep water, grateful his cobbler does waders. "We'd best put a wiggle in it, folks. If Grog gets to a china shop before we do, we might not be able to afford the repair materials we're being sent for."

"Much lighter now."  Cela touches the spot on the pack that used to have the rope.  "If she can keep up, she can come.  Might be helpful when we get to town."

Once the group was assembled, Amara addressed them. She handed Cela and Sundos bags filled with 154 gold pieces for the trip.“Here’s the money you’ll need for the supplies. I’ll say it again. If you can haggle a good price out of the locals, I’ll let you keep the difference. What we’ll pick up in Sembia will make it more than worth it.”

With that said, she reached into the other bag she’d brought. Amara handed Cela a vial filled with a red and black liquid that seemingly smoked from within. Next, she handed Azatch another vial filled with a syrupy looking liquid that bubbled. When she reached into the bag again, she pulled out a slim wand and handed it to Sundos. “If there’s any magic out there, you’ll find it.”

Once more, her hand went into the bag, this time pulling out a small bag carrying what may have been sand. Amara’s eye gleamed impishly as she handed it to Grog. “This might come in handy in a swamp.” When she looked at Lenelle, she reached in and pulled out a small ruby that gleamed with a faint inner light. “If you run into any threat too big for your talents, smash this and pray to whatever gods you worship.”

Amara pulled out two vials of a substance that everyone present recognized from recoveries in old battles. “Potions of Greater Healing.” She handed one apiece to Cela & Lenelle. “I believe in women supporting other women. Take these so you can stay alive if you run into anything worse than mosquitoes and mud.”

Finally, Amara held out a scroll for Simon. “Don’t think I forgot you, cutie. If you’re done catching supper, you might like what’s on this parchment.” All that remained was a single vial, as if she’d hoped for one more volunteer. “Since you’re helping me get my ship back on course, you’ll get your bonuses a little early. I’ve got an extra goody.”.

Amara held up the vial. “Who wants the Potion of Water-Breathing?”

Simon shudders, "I try my best to get fish WITHOUT getting wet. Besides, do you know what fish DO in water? I don't want that in my lungs, thanks."

Grog will take the powder, eyeing it suspiciously.  He'll find it a home in his pack without taking it off.  As the potion was offered, he clearly thought about something regarding the subject as he looked back twords his jug, but said nothing.

Grog would join the others as they left, rather then start out first.  He was keen to stay second in line as they (eventually) followed Azatch's directions twords a destination.  He'd keep his eyes focused twords the water for particular movements.

"I don't want it.  I'll be breathing fire."  Cela holds up the smoking potion, which she carefully places with the healing potion.

Cela doesn't even want the water here on her feet, nevermind being under it.  she thought Grog would volunteer to drink a new thing, but he hasn't said anything, so she won't speak up about it.

Lizardfolk. A lot of people think of them as monsters, whatever that means. More like animals. They don’t have sentimentality so they come off as monsterous. I speak their language, same as the dragons speak, I have heard. In any case, I doubt we’ll happen upon any of them, but it’s possible. Other than that, you know gators, giant lizards. Lizards. Lizards live in swamps. And other swampy stuff.”

He said as if that explained everything.

Azatch took the potion with a nod.

He then looked for the best place to disembark from the vessel and a good path to walk. He also went about trying to determine if they would be able to bring a cart, and to go along the most likely path. It was possible they could only come part way with a cart. Maybe they could rent one and use the difference to hire laborers...

He also kept an eye out for food, he carried his shield and a javelin.

EDIT: I used the wrong color text for speech, confused it with another game, haha.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:35, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

Lenelle took several moments to examine the softly glowing stone she'd been handed, turning it over in her fingers.    "I don't worship any gods, formally speaking," she remarked, as she did.  "But that doesn't mean I don't know that some of them do listen."     Eyes flicking back to the stone, "I shall wrap it, and be very careful not to fall on it," she added.

Her eyes strayed briefly to the sigils painted onto to Grog's armor.  One brow arched faintly in curiosity.   There were times she regretted not being an educated caster.     She would be left to wonder, for now.

Lastly, she approached Azatch.   Half-orc: the other side of the half-breed coin.   Her own life situation had been complicated. She wondered if his had too. Or simpler, but far, far harder.

"So. You're the one knows this place. Rest assured, I'm listening, when you speak."   

Azatch nods matter of factly.

“No takers on the Water-breathing potion?” Amara waggled the vial filled with translucent bluish liquid.

OOC:

Azatch, roll 3 Survival Checks.

 

Sundos took the wand from their captain.  "Thank you, Captain." He tucked it into his pack. He looked at the others. Nobody was going to take the potion of Water Beathing?  "I will take it, Captn." He looked at it and sniffed the bottle near the cork.

"Say, Azatch, how deep can the water get around here?" Wearing the heavy armor, it might be a good idea to have the potion, just in case.

Amara handed Sundos the vial with an approving nod for a display of common sense. When Sundos sniffed the potion, what he smelled reminded him of the sea. An odor of briny foam and seaweed.

Simon squirms a bit in his thigh high wading boots, "We ready yet, folks? These things are water cooled, and my legs are starting to sweat. I need to get them off or back in the swamp water."

OOC: Azatch rolled 21,14,12 using 1d20+3,1d20+3,1d20+3 ((18,11,9)).

Azatch felt pretty confident he knew where they were, as time went by he felt less sure of himself...
This message was last edited by the player at 03:17, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

“You heard him!” Amara waved them off her ship. “Go, get your asses to Deadwater! We’ve got a ship to repair!” She chided them with a laugh, but they didn’t miss the urgent undertone. The Captain worried about her source of income and agency in the world.

Grog is quick to try and assist Simon with his liquid cooling issue.  Shortly after a gentle lift, Amara is quick to suggest otherwise.  "I've already told you that..." Grog, (being Grog,) is easily swayed to (just as gently) put Simon back down on the deck.

Without waiting past setting down Simon,

---

Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
avoiding (ignoring) a scolding,

---

the minotaur will grab a secure point on the boat's edge, and swing himself down with a grace unassuming of his size into the bog below.  Grog is confident he could guess where the people would live based on his own skills, but will happily follow in second stride until the party slows down too much.

After they catch up, he made a slow trek twords whete the trees growing dense to build a little distance.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:41, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

Simon corroborated the Captain’s wishes as he beckoned the group off the ship. Off they jumped, and suffer in sand, or sloshed in murky water if they weren’t sure footed. Simon frowned as one of the companions caught his eye. After a brief discussion, the group started their march through the marshes.

Azatch remembered that they needed to follow the river south. The Half-Orc took the lead and strode with intent I’ve the sandbar. His boots sloshed as he marched briskly, leading the group toward the beginning of woods. The further the group walked from the ship, the thicker the woods grew, marking the beginning of their venture in the fringes of The Vast Swamp.

The first two hours surprised the party with how quickly they passed. A few among them had never seen marshes, and found the stretches of wetland interesting, perhaps even beautiful. The heron gracefully perched on the stump and cleaned its feathers. Far from the ship, a lone crocodile sunned itself on the sand.

As the group made progress into the woods, Azatch stayed his course. His step was less confident as the tree limbs thickened, blotting out more of the sun the further they went. In the fourth hour, the area was almost as dark as the night. Azatch needed all his senses to keep them from losing their way.

Soon, they discovered the unpleasant aspects of the swamp. Bugs constantly flirting around ears, eyes, and nostrils. Too may bit them, which only added to the misery of the swamp’s heat. The air felt thick, like the heavy wing of a dragon covered them in stifling moisture. More frequently, they waded through higher water, sometimes almost chest high to the tallest.

In the fifth hour, Azatch finally lost the trail he’d remembered.

While tries to figure out which way to go, Simon turns to the others,

"Have I ever told you the tale of Hazim al-Hariq? He was a Sheikh of the Burning Embers in his homeland. Young and full of pride and ready to take on the world. But first, of course, would be the requirement, on his majority, of presenting himself to the Sultan, his father, formally, in court.

"And so, off he went to Court to do just that. I know not what adventures befell him, prior to this day of days, for those are his tales to tell, but Fate smiled on him, and his life was happy, by his standards. But something must have happened, because, young as he was, he had managed to make a great enemy at some point. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he was chosen at random from amongst those at Court. Who is to say? well, the Chooser, I suppose, and anyone he might have confided in, but this isn't his tale.

"What I know for certain is that a Mage of great power cast a spell and Hazim was imprisoned in a flask, sealed in tightly and cast into the ocean to be lost forever.

"What was Hazim's Great Crime? I know not. As I said, maybe it wasn't his crime at all, but that of another and he was taken by accident or subterfuge. Or as revenge upon his father, the Sultan, even.

"Hazim's only hope? That Fate once again smiles on him and shortens 'Eternity' to something more managible. But that is a tale for another day."

Azatch considered Simon's story. Then mentally moved on.

"I'll be able to pick the trial up better in the light of day. Bogs have a way of... changing... after floods and such. For now, we better make camp. Let's find somewhere somewhat dry and defensible."

Azatch wondered to himself if he could have taken ADVANTAGE of the Help from his companions and thought maybe next time he would be more vocal about the landmarks he was looking for, such that his companions might help him locate something he recognized. He knew they were miserable, but he knew it would end up fine after a little tribulation.

Azatch looks for a good place to make camp.

Azatch soon spotted a row of medium-sized shrubs lined in a row, almost like an overgrown hedge. Slivers of sunlight penetrated the dense overhead foliage. They could see just enough of the area to set up a camp. Before they’d set down their packs, though, they heard rustling from the shrubs...

Simon's eyes narrow at the sounds, and he touches his ring, "Strengthen me, my friend, if you please. Just in case."

OOC
21:22, Today: Simon rolled 6 using 1d4+4.  False Life.

Within Lenelle Toreth there was conflict;  the young noblewoman who wanted to grab her head and scream at their predicament.  Versus the competent, resilient person she was striving to become.   The latter won out -- if only by a small margin.

She had spared some attention to listen to Simon.   At first with faint exasperation on her features; and then with something that may have been interest.

She was some consoled once Azatch suggested he could regain the trail come the morrow.   But any sense of ease fled at the rustling --  instinctively, she warded herself.  Something she should have done earlier:

Casting Mage Armor, AC=15   (ok, it's not much, but beats the hell out of 12)

Hour 1: Grog was full of excitement and wonder, his attention focused mostly upon the the waters.  Hour 2?  Not so much.  Eyes strained to find traces of anything, his attention clearly lacking.  By hour 3, he was little more then a cow among a herd.  If anything, the bugs gave him something to swat at.  His trudge had lost all traces of his previous zeal.  There was a while in there he visibly assessed tossing his glaive at the birds, but he eventually put it away after some light maintenance.

Hour 4, Grog cleaned off his hands, pulled his book from his bag, and read a while.  His height certainly worked to his advantage in this regard, though onlookers could see little more then somewhat sloppy handwriting in an unknown language.  The darkness didn't appear to hinder his reading much, however.  Twords the end of that hour, he seamed satisfied and put his book away again.

Once Azatch asked to make camp, Grog was quick to start his search, and quick to pick up on the others suddenly shifting to prepare for a fight.  The clasp holding his glaive came undone with a simple pull, and Grog was as ready as he needed to be.  In addition to assessing the shrub, the surrounding area also got a quick visual search.  His confidence was not shaken.

((OOC: +3 AC is huge!  And right before a planned rest?  Hardly a waste.))

Azatch readied himself, holding his javelin aloft, ready to skewed so dinner, hopefully.

Sundos normally carried his shield with a strap on his back. With practiced ease, he swung his shield down onto his arm in ready position. He readied his mace and took a few steps to stand next to Lenelle. "If you need to, don't be afraid to step behind me, I can protect you."

To get ready, Cela lowers her bag to the ground in the clearing - better to be more mobile.

She goes totally silent.  Her ears bend down, she crouches a bit, and her body stiffens.  Her claws are extended.

Lenelle glanced sidelong, somewhat askance, at the offer.

Cleric. Priest. Priests had cost her a home -- a family.   The fact of it ever rang like a discordant note, inside her. Empowered by the divine, yet oppressed by its mortal agents.

But she couldn't afford to prejudge; not here, not now.  There was a difference in the face; the eyes. She noted it, with what attention she could spare.

"Thanks," she told Sundos honestly.  "I'm not defenseless. We're all in this together. Our fates shall be the same," she assured him.

Simon shakes his head, "I am told Fate treats everyone differently. I have a friend who is quite...puzzled by Her."

Lenelle recollected the story he'd related.  And wondered how much of it might be personal, even if only in metaphor.

But now, there was the matter of that rustling...

The group heard the noises of a creature—or creatures—attempting to move stealthily through the brush. Grog, Lenelle, and any other party member gifted with darkvision peered toward the bushes and trees with vigilant eyes. They spotted a spear here and a shield there. Seconds later, the rustling grew louder as Lizardfolk charged into their campsite!

Five Lizardfolk warriors brandished spears, led by a slightly larger figure adorned in a headdress made of animal hide and smaller animal bones. The Shaman hissed orders in their Draconic tongue, ordering the five warriors to surround the party! The subordinates obeyed their leader, moving quickly in a flanking position...

OOC: Roll Initiative, y’all! First fight of the campaign is ON!

The Lizardfolk fighters are within 25 feet of the group. The shaman will hang back at 40 feet.



This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 17:15, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

Lenelle gasped at first sight of these nemeses.   The fearsome aspect of the walking reptiles stalling her from reacting quicker than she might have...

In Draconic, Azatch says, “Stop, we are not you enemy or your food, but if you attack us, the swamp will feast on your flesh.”

Ooc: feel free to roll an intimidation check (+2) if you feel it is warranted, I am not intending to use an action to do it though.


Initiative 19

Grog was calm, focused, and until he saw the scales not particularly excited.  A grin formed.  "Talking dinners?  Good timing."

EDIT: Grog doesn't stop their flanking, but moves directly twords the druid, stopping 10' away from the closest lizardfolk. (Be that one blocking his advance or the druid given 30' movement.)

Once there, his action varies based on Az's actions:  (He went earlier.)  If the lizards paused their advance, Grog would respond defensively to further approach.  Should they not respond to his advance, Grog opens with a strike against said closest lizard.

Should he connect an attack before his next turn, he invokes his Fire Rune.  If not, he invokes the Stone Rune vs the druid should it be possible. (Needs a reaction, visibility, and at furthest a 30' distance at the end of the druid's turn.)

Grog rolled 12 using 1d20+1

((OOC: Sorry Azatch, Grog may already have an unhelpful opinion.  The swamp may miss a meal if they don't talk fast.  I was initially tempted to specifically mention Grog would counter their flanking effort as they made it, only to realize they kinda shot themselves in the foot doing so being outnumbered. Would be nice to see a battle-map as I am quite familiar with those, but keeping it edited and updated would be quite the pain.  Arbitrary instruction will work just fine.))
This message was last edited by the player at 20:51, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

14:21, Today: Cela rolled 23 using 1d20+3.  initiative.

Cela is ready, but waits for a reaction when she hears Azatch calling out to them.

Simon makes a rude gesture in the general direction of the shaman, and a bit of swamp just past it gets disturbed by the sheer rudeness of his gesture.

OOC:
11:42, Today: Simon rolled 6 using 1d20+4.  Eldritch Blast.
11:40, Today: Simon rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:02, Wed 07 Apr 2021.

Even though it has been a long time since Sundos has been in the Army, old habits are hard to die. He called out, "Spears, Present!"

There was a prayer on his lips, ready to invoke the Lord of Light and Life. However, seeing Azatch trying to make contact with the lizards, waits to see what happens.

OOC:

13:35, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 17 using 1d20.  Initiative .
Hold action.

OOC:

Here’s the Initiative order, kindly organized by Cela (Thank you)

14:21, Today: Cela rolled 23 using 1d20+3.  initiative.
14:40, Today: Simon rolled 20 using 1d20+1.  initiaitve.
14:16, Today: Azatch rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.
15:35, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 17 using 1d20.  Initiative .
14:06, Today: Grog rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  Initiative .
13:35, Today: Lenelle Toreth rolled 6 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.
13:16, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 4 using 1d20.  Lizardfolk initiative.

Azatch, I’ll allow you an Intimidation or Persuasion roll with Advantage, based on your being a Local.

Once I get that roll, we’ll continue!

Nat 20!

OOC: 20:00, Today: Azatch rolled 22 using 2d20+2, dropping the lowest dice only.  intimidation w/ adv.

After a grueling day of marching through the swamp, the away party from The Swanmay readied themselves for an evening of rest. Before our heroes could set up camp, though, a small band of Lizardfolk interrupted them! Saurian warriors led by a shaman trained their spears on the group. In turn our heroes prepared a brutal response.

Cela stood ready for a fight, her feline muscles tensed for action! Simon The Warlock displayed his contempt for the Shaman with an obscene gesture known through most of The Forgotten Realms...and an Eldritch Blast. Although Simon was prepared, though, his blast went astray while Azatch attempted to cow the scaled intruders into leaving them alone. They were indeed intimidated, both by Simon’s magicks and the fearsome timbre in the Half-Orc’s threats.

However, the Shaman stood his ground and hissed at the trio who tried to flee. “Sssstay and fight, fools, or face Hisss wrath!”

Old habits ingrained by military training spurred Sundos into prepared action. He readied a defense while he prayed for the Light & Blessing of Pelor! The beloved God of Light heard his soft prayers, and within an instant, Azatch, Cela, & Grog felt their already powerful bodies quickened by an ecstatic rush of Divine power! [OOC: You three get a +1 bonus to hits & saves! ] Grog saw no threat from a handful of Lizardfolk. Any who came close would feel the wrath of his glaive or his runes! Lenelle found the sudden menace of slathering scaled jaws and sharp teeth momentarily unnerving, but recovered her wits and stood behind Sundos.

Despite the glowering intimidation from Azatch, the Lizardfolk felt more afraid of their Shaman! The Lizardfolk charged, brandishing sharp-tipped javelins and spiked shields! The first fighter rushed Cela, who sidestepped his thrust of his spear. However, the feint set her up for a jab from the spiked end of his shield, cutting into her furred flesh. (OOC: You take 3 points of damage, Cela.)

The second Lizard fighter snapped powerful jaws at Azatch, attempting to make a feast of the Half-Orc. The Barbarian held the Lizardman back with his powerful arms, but couldn’t avoid an upward thrust from the jagged edge shield. (OOC: 3 points damage for Azatch, too!)

A third Lizardfolk fighter thrust the spiked edge of his shield at Sundos and pierced his armor! Emboldened by his success, he tried to get a mouthful of the Cleric, but the Priest of Pelor reflexively dodged! (OOC: 5 points of damage, Sundos.)

The fourth Lizardman saw the success of his comrades, and felt a thrilling rush form the scent of spilled blood! He thrust a javelin at Grog and missed. Hissing in apparent frustration, if Lizardfolk felt such emotion, he rammed his spiked shield at the Minotaur with both hands! The spikes found their target, drawing blood! OOC: A Natural 20 on the 2nd attack, with a total damage of 12 points to Grog! Retaliate with an Attack of Opportunity, though.)

The remaining Lizard fighter found the courage to strike at the Warlock. His biting attack missed, but once more, the Lizardman demonstrated his tribe’s deadly proficiency with this visceral form of shield-bashing! (OOC: You lose 5 Hit Points, Simon!)

Finally, the Shaman waggled his fingers and his legs kicked in a strange dance as he invoked a prayer to Semuanya! Around the party, the swamp grass twitched and grew at an impossible rate in a writhing mass of grassy tendrils and vines! Unless our heroes were swift or stringer than the animated vines, they would soon find themselves Entangled!


OOC:

DC 12 to escape the Entangle spell!

22:10, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #5 attack w/javelin.
22:09, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 6 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #5 attack w/bite.
22:08, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 24 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #4 attack w/shield.
22:07, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #4 attack w/javelin .
22:07, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #3 attack w/bite.
22:06, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #3 attack w/shield.
22:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #2 attack w/spiked shield .
22:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #2 attack w/javelin.
22:04, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #1 attack with spiked shield .
22:04, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk #1 Attack w/javelin.



This message was last edited by the GM at 05:22, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

The Lizardman foolish enough to strike at Simon leaves him unwounded, but leaves him he does, flying back 10' and acquiring something of a headache in the process. Probably the invisible hand that pulled him off Simon. It tends to grab the head. "Thank you, my friend."

Simon points at the Shaman, "Burn, Scaly, Burn." Three rays leap towards the Shaman. One may even singe him.

OOC:
Reaction: Rebuke of the Talisman: 2 psychic damage and pushed back 10'.
Plus he had 6 temp hits from post #51. 1 is left.

20:00, Today: Simon rolled 13,6 using 4d6+2,2d6.

19:59, Today: Simon rolled 24,16,10 using 1d20+4,1d20+4,1d20+4.  Scorching Ray at Shaman.
20:04, Today: Simon rolled 13,15 using 1d20+4,1d20+4.  Disadvantage rolls.
Rolled in the wrong order: Damage from the one hit comes to 8 (fire) with Genies Wrath...assuming a  15 hits.

20:03, Today: Simon rolled 7 using 1d20+1.  Strength Save, Entangle.

20:51, Today: Simon rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Thu 08 Apr 2021.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 19 using 1d20-1.  strength save.

Mostly through sheer desperation, Lenelle managed to tug free of the grasping vegetation that sought to restrain her.   About her, her companions were being stabbed and bitten by the ill-tempered reptilians.   She had to do something about it. The shaman.   If he were to fall...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 8 using 1d20+2.  Initiative. (unclear if we're supposed to roll again; otherwise still at 6)   

Invoking the power within her, Lenelle supplied an extra surge of it, using a little trick that was most useful during a battle.  Not one but two shafts of sun-like radiance streamed from her raised hand -  one aimed at the shaman, and the other at the lizard man attacking Cela:

Casting Guiding Bolt as a 2nd level spell: (+1D6)
Twinned Spell (metamagic; 2 sorcery points)
Lenelle Toreth rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  guiding bolt. Shaman, to hit
Lenelle Toreth rolled 20 using 1d20+5.  guiding bolt. Cela's enemy, to hit
Lenelle Toreth rolled 24 using 5d6. Shaman, damage
Lenelle Toreth rolled 14 using 5d6.  Cela's foe, damage

Next attack on anyone struck by the Guidling Bolt will be advantaged, due to the lingering glow.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:39, Thu 08 Apr 2021.

Sundos attempted to bash in the lizard's head with his mace. However, a weed wrapped around his leg as he made his attack, throwing him off.

OOC
21:41, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Save vs Entanglement.
21:38, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  attack lizard person.

Edit: 21:55, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 7 using 1d20.  Initiative round 2.

This message was last edited by the player at 03:57, Thu 08 Apr 2021.

OOC: Roll Initiative for around 2! If you’ve already posted, edit your new initiative roll into your post.

Azatch scoffs at the shaman's decision to die, and bats away his puny vines (critical success strength save vs entangle).

Incensed at the Shaman's stupidity and audacity, Azatch slips into a Rage.

His features become bestial and claws protrude from his hands and he begins tearing at the lizardfolk warrior closest to him, recklessly.



Att1: 15
Att2: 21
Dam1: 8
Dam2: 12

23:59, Today: Azatch rolled 8,12 using 1d6+6,1d6+6.  damages.
23:58, Today: Azatch rolled 21 using 2d20+6, dropping the lowest dice only.  att 2.
23:58, Today: Azatch rolled 15 using 2d20+6, dropping the lowest dice only.  claw attack vs lizardfolk warrior.
23:14, Today: Azatch rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  initiative round 2.
23:02, Today: Azatch rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  entangle save.

Conditions: Attacks vs Azatch made with advantage; not entangled

Cela shrinks away form the shield that hits her with a short yelp and unleashes a Flurry of Blows with her claws against the lizardman that hit her.




11:00, Today: Cela rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  entangle. 
10:38, Today: Cela rolled 7,6 using d20+5,d4+3.  attack 1 round 2.
10:39, Today: Cela rolled 18,4 using d20+5,d4+3.  attack 2 round 2.
10:39, Today: Cela rolled 11,5 using d20+5,d4+3.  attack 3 round 2.
Slashing damage for all these attacks.

10:38, Today: Cela rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  round2 init.

If you roll your dice this way you can get to-hit and damage in the same roll with the results shown separated by commas.

Init 10, HP 15/18, Ki 2/3
This message was last edited by the player at 15:03, Thu 08 Apr 2021.

The vines randomly sprouting up to entangle Grog would have succeeded, had a certain blessing not been bestowed upon Grog.  Noting the lizard Grog was opposing MADE his strength save (forced to assume as the roll was never listed, but he attacked again.) to resist being restrained by the magical fire chains that burned it, Grog decided to continue his assault on the nearby lizard.  Clearly he was a worthy opponent.  Grog swings his silvered glaive down at the lizard foe before him, intending to split it's skull.

The shamen would follow as a target soon enough, or possibly be out of action regardless should he stand still.  (Intended Target w/ Stone Rune (Made useless via his death))

Grog rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  STR save vs Entangled
Grog rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Attack roll vs [either] target
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

OOC: Kicking off with Grog’s Attack of Opportunity.

IC: The lizard who foolishly targeted the Minotaur found himself likewise on the receiving end of Grog’s wrath. Again, the Minotaur moved with a speed that belied his massive bulk, lashing out in a near-flurry of furred muscle that brought a pained scream from the Lizardfolk warrior as blood sprayed and the Fire Rune burned him! Grog’s attack savaged the warrior, who remained on his clawed feet solely by force of will.

With a bloodcurdling roar, Azatch bellowed in a rage that unleashed a primal power within! His fingers turned into claws, making the Half-Orc look even more bestial! His clawed hands ripped at the Lizardman as Azatch shouted his rage, devastating his enemy in an attack that left him bloodied and barely alive!

Simon’s preternatural Guardian honored their strange pact by repelling his attacker. The Lizardman flew backward at least 10 feet, reeling in dazed pain from the unexpected psychic feedback. Pointing at the Lizard Shaman, Simon said, “Burn, Scaly, Burn.” Suddenly, three scorching beams hurtled toward the shaman, searing nearly a third of his body with flames!

Despite their injuries, the Lizardfolk warriors rallied and fought to regain ground. The first fighter who’d attacked Cela missed again with his spear. The Monk improved her defense by ducking backward under the spear and follow up attack with the shield, avoiding any new injuries!

Azatch wouldn’t be so lucky, as the Lizard he’d injured shoved his javelin at his attacker. The javelin bit into the raging Barbarian, drawing more blood. However, the severity of the pain from his own injuries distracted the Lizardfolk  from taking Advantage of any opening for a repeated attack. His clumsy follow up with the spiked shield missed the Half-Orc.

The third Lizardfolk swiped at Sundos and missed. Unfortunately, Pelos didn’t protect his priest from the attack with the spiked shield. One of the spikes bit into the Cleric, opening a new wound!

The fourth Lizardman almost hit Grog, but missed with both attacks, as he weakly flailed and burned against the Minotaur’s superior grip!

Too bad for Simon, as the fifth Lizard warrior shook off the pain in his own bestial rage. Simon struggled against animated vines, making him an easy target. He rushed back and jabbed with the javelin, stabbing the Warlock again! His spiked shield dug into Simon’s flesh in a rush of blood that excited the Lizardman.

The Lizard Shaman twirled his clawed hand, and conjured a thorny vine! The thorned whip lashed out at Lenelle like a thing alive, but missed her.

Cela summoned her Ki, lashing out at the Lizardman who’d injured her in a rapid Flurry of Blows with her claws! Two of her attacks struck his snout and jaw, rocking his head back with the force of her precise blows! Her lithe strength freed her from the entanglement spell, leaving her free to fight again.

Desperation gave Lenelle a burst of adrenaline that soon helped her struggle free of the writhing embrace of the vines! Lenelle reached herself and called upon the magical power that was hers. Her body flowed from within with a celestial light released in two dazzling bolts of mystical force! The first bolt obliterated the Shaman in a glittering burst of blood and scales! Her second bolt struck Cela’s assailant in the back, and left a lingering flow that made it easier to hit him in the next attack.

Meanwhile, Sundos found himself slowed by the Entanglement. This made him an easier target and hampered his own movements, even as the spell began dying with the shaman. He tried to hit back at his attacker, but missed...


OOC:

02:58, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d6+2.  Damage for Simon.
02:58, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 3 using 1d6+2.  Damage for Simon.
02:57, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 4 using 1d6+2.  Damage for Sundos.
02:55, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 8 using 1d6+2.  Damage for Azatch.


01:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack with shield #5.
01:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack with shield #4.
01:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack with shield #3.
01:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 6 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack w/shield #2.
01:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack w/shield #1.

01:44, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20+2.  Lizard Shaman attack with Thorn Whip.
01:43, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 17 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack #5 javelin.
01:42, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack #4 javelin.
01:42, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 5 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk attack #3 javelin.
01:40, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Javelin.
01:40, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 8 using 1d20+4.  Lizard folk Attack #1 Javelin.


UGH! I messed up on listing the 2nd attack rolls, so I rerolled with the modifiers.


 
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:57, Sat 10 Apr 2021.

Azatch rams his claws into the throat of his assailant and crushes his windpipe (probably). He then moves to the nearest lizardfolk and lashes out with a second deadly attack.

Att1: 21
Dam1: 10
(Based on you description, I think this finishes it off)

Att2: 24
Dam: 10
(Forgot to drop lowest, but mathematically, impossible to miss with the result)

Edit: Initiative 22

Conditions: rage, attackers have advantage in attacks vs Azatch.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:33, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

In reply to Azatch (msg # 78):

The lizard beating on Simon is grabbed by the invisible hand on his head yet again, and yet again thrown back 10' with a bigger headache.

In case the walking luggage doesn't get the clue THIS time, Simon rubs his ring for a bit more protection.

OOC:
Only one temp point left, so Simon takes 9. Attacker takes 2 psychic and is pushed back 10'

And 5 more temp hits, for next round.
08:21, Today: Simon rolled 5 using 1d4+4.  false life.

Sundos is swings again only to have his mace skip off of the lizard man's shield. He's getting angry.

"Pelor, Strike him down!"  He casts Spiritual Weapon and has the glowing mace strike the lizardman.

OOC:
Attempt to attack lizrdman with mace.  (To Hit 11)
Cast Spiritual Weapon and strike the lizrdman on him (To Hit 24, Dam 7)

13:25, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 24,7 using 1d20+5,1d8+3.  Spiritual Weapon attack.
13:24, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 11,8 using 1d20+4,1d6+2. Attack

*gasp*  I forgot the roll initiative
15:15, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 6 using 1d20.  Initiative .

This message was last edited by the player at 21:15, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

Glancing up at the death of the lizard shamen, Grog exhales through his nose, likely landing some harmless snot on his nearby opponent.  Rather then continue fighting his current lizard, Grog shifts tactics.

Grog preforms a disengage action, preventing the lizards from attacking Grog as he moves.  Rather then stay by his current opponent, Grog moves between Simon and HIS opponent, putting Simon adjacent to Grog, and a onee-square gap between Grog and Simon's current lizard foe.  This leaves Grog outside his opponent's reach, while leaving his (new) opponent still within Grog's own melee reach.  Should the opponent close the gap, he will find Grog swinging against him before he gets a chance to attack.

Should Grog not use his reaction to attack a foe, he will instead hit the closest target who ends his turn to Grog with Stone Rune as his alternate use of his reaction.

Grog rolled 8 using 1d20+1.  Initiative.
Grog rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Attack of Opportunity via Reach.
((That missed, but I'm rolling damage incase invisible factors cause a hit.))
Grog rolled 4 using 1d10+3 with rolls of 1.  Damage.
Grog rolled 7 using 1d10+3 with rolls of 4.  Rerolled Damage due to Great Weapon Fighting.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:57, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

Cela swipes with both hands at the glowing lizardman.

16:13, Today: Cela rolled 13 using 1d20+3.  initiative round 3.
16:12, Today: Cela rolled 19,4 using d20+5,d4+3.  attack round 3.
16:13, Today: Cela rolled 17,7 using d20+5,d4+3.  bonus action unarmed strike round 3.

"Thanks" She yells out to after swinging - to whoever that was that sent the blast to her opponent.

"You're welcome," she answered across the distance, noting the Tabaxi was raking away at the injured foe.

The cleric had been pressed by his opponent, she'd noted --  and so chose next to assault his foe.    Following a brief gesture and a few lilting words, a quartet of luminous, blue-white darts flashed from her fingertips, slamming unerringly into their target:

Lenelle Toreth rolled 19 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.
Cast magic missile as 2nd level spell
Lenelle Toreth rolled 14 using 4d4+4.  14 damage to Sundos' opponent.

Azatch roared in his opponent’s face as he tore out the Lizardman’s throat with his bare hands! In the throes of his Rage, the Barbarian only registered that his foe no longer moved. He saw the swamp through a red haze, or at least the bloodlust felt that way. Azatch saw another enemy less than 10 feet away and raked the back of the Lizardman opposing Sundos!

Lenelle graciously acted to aid the Priest of Pelor, too. The Sorceress drew her hands up, and curled delicate fingers toward the Lizardman on Sundos. Summoning the innate magic that was hers to command, she blasted iridescent Magic Missiles toward their mutual enemy! Unfortunately, Azatch’s attack shoved the Lizardman just out of her spell’s path!

Still, Lenelle’s magic proved beneficial for Cela! The lingering effects of the Half-Elf’s spell enshrouded the Lizardman in a nimbus that made it ridiculously easier for the nimble Tabaxi Monk to hit! Her claws darted in two rapid strikes with deadly precision to the gut, disemboweling the Lizardman! He slumped dead on the mossy ground before Cela with a raspy groan.

Grog dropped the Lizardman he’d grappled and moved into a defensive position between Simon and his own ersatz assailant. The towering brute lunged and missed with his glaive, but kept the Lizardman off the Warlock while he shook off the last of the withering vines. Simon responded to his injury by utilizing Necromantic power to temporarily boost his own life force. The Patron of The Ring maintained the terms of their Pact by protecting the mysterious Warlock.

Meanwhile, the tide of battle finally turned for Sundos! Although his mace swooshed without hitting the Lizard Warrior, Pelos heard the cries of his faithful son. Near the Cleric, a stray sunbeam penetrated the drooping canopy of willow and oak trees. The sunbeam brightened as it flickered and coalesced into a radiant ball of sunlight! The intensity of the light grew as it gained mass and shaped itself into a gleaming mace formed from the Sun itself! The Spiritual Weapon hovered over the Lizardman, before soundly cracking him on the head with a blow that killed him instantly!

Two Lizardfolk survived, staying in the fight solely through a reptilian instinct for perseverance through extreme trauma. The warrior who’d harassed Simon finally learned the futility of trifling with the Patron of The Talisman, and joined the other survivor forgotten by Grog. The two held no notions of overcoming our heroes, but they could still take one with them.

They circled Grog, and flanked the Minotaur with their javelins. The first attacked alone, and his javelin missed. However, when the second joined and caught Grog’s eyes, he took advantage of the Minotaur’s momentary distraction and jabbed with another strike of the fearsome spiked shields! The spikes found a weak point in Grog’s armor, tearing his flesh and unleashing a copious flow of blood! OOC: Natural 20 on that attack, so it’s a total of 15 damage!) Luckily, that attack seemed more a result of desperation or fortune than skill, as Grog kept the other weapons from hitting him.

These two Lizardfolk were the sole survivors, but seemed determined to die fighting...



OOC:

02:06, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d6+2.  Spiked shield damage.
02:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 15 using 1d20+6.  Lizardfolk #2 attack #2 on Grog.
02:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  Lizardfolk #2 Attack #1 on Grog.
02:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 26 using 1d20+6.  Lizardfolk attack #2 with spiked shield.
02:04, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  Lizardfolk Attack #1 on Grog w/javelin

"Enough already, Yeesh." Simon blasts a bit of fiery force at the Lizard that kept bouncing off of him.

OOC:
08:17, Today: Simon rolled 6 using 1d10+2.  Elritch blast damage with Genie's wrath (2 pt fire).
08:16, Today: Simon rolled 16 using 1d20+4.  Eldritch Blast.

09:49, Today: Simon rolled 12 using 1d20+1.  initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:49, Sat 10 Apr 2021.

Only two remaining... Lenelle took steady aim at one of the reptilians on Grog...and released another bolt of searing heaven-light.   However, perhaps because of the amount of power she'd rapidly expended, its efficacy was a bit on the sub-par side...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 23 using 1d20+5.  guiding bolt.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 7 using 4d6.  guiding bolt damage.

Any following attack on liz-guy will be advantaged. 

Azatch lashes out at anyone lizard-people who are left.

Azatch rolled 19 using 3d6+6.  dam2 (crit).
Azatch rolled 12 using 1d6+6.  dam1.
Azatch rolled 27 using 2d20+7, dropping the lowest dice only.  reckless att2.
Azatch rolled 26 using 2d20+7, dropping the lowest dice only.  reckless att1.

EDIT: Initiative 9
This message was last edited by the player at 22:14, Sat 10 Apr 2021.

Lenelle summoned her celestial power and fired a Guiding Bolt at the Lizardman who hadn’t attacked Simon. The bolt of light rocked her reptilian target, and once again, enveloped him in a nimbus of light that made it impossible to miss him in the shaded swamp! Simon sighed with weariness and conjured an Eldritch Blast that hurled him back toward Azatch!

The enraged Barbarian grabbed the back of the Lizardman’s thick neck. With his free hand, he grabbed the back of the head of the glowing Lizardman struck by Lenelle. Then, Azatch roared so loudly he unnerved the party, as he SMASHED the Lizardmen’s heads together with a sickening CRUNCH! When Azatch released them, the dropped on the ground in a mess of limp limbs and spilled brain matter.

END OF COMBAT

Grog will do one last survey of the area, then plop onto the ground where he stood.  His injuries may be rather severe, even for his bulky size, but his priorities were clear:  "Cooking pot?  I cook dinner."

Grog will start digging up space for a fire pit, they were at an otherwise ideal camping spot, and unless otherwise interrupted, do an adequate job setting up the camping area for the night.

Grog rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Campsite Setup.

((OOC: He gets an additional +2 bonus having (some) camping gear, as he gets double proficiency with tools. XD  Is cooking survival?  That would give him a shot at being tied for best cook... but only if he gets that pot or some other implement.))

While Grog putters around making camp, Simon finds himself a dry spot and pulls out his "Fish Story" for the joy of all and sundry to enjoy.

"Every Angler has 'The Story'. Either the day he caught his biggest fish, or the day it got away. Most tell of the day it got away, but myself? I am not your average Angler. My story is about something I caught.

"Now, it's important to know I've been an Angler since I could hold onto a pole. I cut my teeth on lakes and slow lazy rivers where I grew up, but... there is just so much more out there. Fast rivers, deep seas, coastal waters. The cold North, the warm South, and exotic foreign lands with exotic foreign fish.

"Still, one needs start somewhere, and for me it was the coast. Oh, on the way to the great salty fishing pond, I did dip my hook into a new brook or river, but the excitment of fighting the tide, learning if it was just the current of the tide or if I'd actually hooked something, that was my journey's first goal.

"And then came the day: I'd traveled and traveled and hit the great salty ocean. Thankfully I'd brought extra line. The first real challenge is getting your hook far enough out past the breaking water so that the tide and surf don't bring it back in. Then you have to wait for your hook to catch something, and read the signals as they travel up the line. A longer line than I was used to, and hence, quite faint signals...but, eventually, I had caught something. I pulled it in, afraid that I had lost it, as nothing jumped out of the water or fought me as I worked the reel, but no, I had my catch there on the end of my line. The hook had tangled around some trash: a brass bottle.

"So I did what any Angler worth his bait would do: I untangled the line so I could rebait it. Imagine my surprise when I saw the bottle still stoppered, and a lead seal holding the stopper in tightly. What could have been so valuable? I took out my knife and pried away the lead and the cork popped out. So did the Efreet trapped within.

"Oh the anger of the Efreet was great to behold. He swore vengeance on the one who had imprisoned him. The Death of The Slow Fire, I think he said. Then he noticed me. Not my lucky day, let me tell you. He described in detail the pain my death would bring, and how long it would last, then swore to kill me and all others who held his prison as Master. And that's when hope glimmered. The tales of Efreeti and Djinni say that those imprisoned would be forced to grant one three wishes. And so I thought, and, when my thinking had borne fruit, or so I thought, well, then I spoke:

"'I wish a very long life.'"

"'Foolish Mortal, I will keep you alive for decades, if you insist, rather than grant you a quick death.'"

"'I wish your friendship.' That gave him pause. He opened his mouth then shut it, and looked at me with narrowed eyes.

Then I looked right at him and grinned at him. As the anger built in his face I made my third wish: 'I wish you free of this prison."

And he was freed.

And that is the tale of how I met Hazim al-Hariq, Sheikh of the Smoldering Embers, Noblest of Efreeti, and one of many, many sons of the Grand Sultan in the City of Brass. (And yes, I know the Sages say that Genies are born of the raw elements and a wandering soul...but has anyone asked the Genies their opinion on the subject?)

One day, decades hence, he WILL kill me. He is a being of his word, and will not be forsworn. Let this be a warning to all: I am protected. I am HIS to kill, no one else's. Test him at your own peril.

Lenelle was more interested in assessing the injuries of her comrades, and who of them might need healing the most.   Nonetheless, she spared attention for Simon's tale; and she had been correct, in her earlier thought:  The tale of Hazim al-Hariq was personal to Simon.  And not at all a metaphor.  Assuming this was all on the level...

"You do like holding your pole, I've noticed," she teased him; in utterly bad taste, but she couldn't resist.    And then frowned a little.

"An...interesting tale. To say the least. But, why do you think we need to hear such a warning?  Aren't we here to help and support each other?"    She addressed Sundos:

"Doubtless, your healing magic surpasses mine.   But, I can support you in mending the injured. Why don't we work out how best to do it?"   

Okay, here's the deal;  after all that, I've got one casting slot left.   I can twin-spell a cure wounds (D8+3 worth) to heal two people.    However, that will leave me with only cantrips, if we are attacked during the night.   Completely willing, but just FYI.

I think only Simon and I were not harmed?  Which leaves us four needing cures?  Grog & Sundos himself the most damaged?   

Simon glances at Grog, "Well, there is, apparently, the occasional temptation to suddenly pick me up bodily, or try to. But some tales are just for entertainment. Or Lizardmen still lurking in the bushes."

OOC:
Simon WAS harmed. Twice. His protections stopped all of the first and part of the second. But he's fine.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:58, Sun 11 Apr 2021.

"Well, I understand.  Unfortunately, the one you're intending it for probably will not. Fewer words would go further. And that's noble of you; but I think we should get everyone healed."   

Lenele hadn't considered hidden enemies.  She bit her lip, glancing toward the foliage - hoping it wasn't so.

And it probably is.   I don't think Sundos has done a lot of casting;  he should be able fix the worst injuries. How about then if I heal Cela and you (Simon) or Azatch? With the more minor injuries? 

"Oh; and we've got these, too," she added, pulling out the vial the captain had supplied.

"But I think it was implied this is better saved for very heavy injury."   Potion of Greater Healing - unless anyone's real bad, it'd make more sense to save it.

Grog dug a fire-pit for their campsite, and pulled out his tools for cooking dinner. Simon entertained Lenelle and anyone else listening with the tale of his how he met the Sheikh of The Smoldering Embers. Was it a campfire tale or perhaps a cautionary tale? As Lenelle attempted to negotiate the ministry of their wounded, she noticed what she could see of the sun growing scarce. It would be night soon. She heard the choirs of birds and frogs alike, as well as other animals she’d never heard before.

OOC:

Why don’t you give me a Perception check? Azatch, if you make one, roll at Advantage.

 

With the senses of elvish ancestors she'd never met, Lenelle listened to the serenade of the local wild life.   No outdoorswoman, and feeling a bit anxious, she whispered something under her breath, trying to ensure she wasn't missing anything telling...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 2 using 1d4.  Guidance.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 18 using 1d20+3.
Perception check = 20

Cela's injuries are extremely minor.  While Simon tells his story, she licks it to clean it.

"I think Grog is the most hurt."  Cela didn't catch everything during the fight but he looked pretty beat up.  "Those bursts of light were handy."  She tells Lenelle.  "Guess the captain underestimated you."

13:53, Today: Cela rolled 13 using 1d20+4.  perception.
edit: perception.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:16, Sun 11 Apr 2021.

Simon fiddles with his ring with the thumb of the hand it's on while giving the swamp a once over looking for lizardmen...or spots deep enough to catch a little dinner.

OOC:
11:19, Today: Simon rolled 16 using 1d20+1d4+4.  Perception with Talisman boost.

ooc: Sorry folks, weekends are hard for me to post sometimes.

Sundos spent some time catching his breath after the fight. Sometime while Grog was preparing camp, Sundos approached him and placed his hand on Grog's arm. "Grog, in the name of Pelar, I command you to be healed and receive Pelar's healing graces."
Healed Grog 11 hp.

He then went off towards a quiet spot of camp to say a quiet prayer.
Sundos Healed 13 hp,  back to full.

Sundos will then help Grog around the camp as he listened to Simon's story.


OOC
12:47, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 13 using 1d8+6.  Heal Sundos.

12:47, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 11 using 1d8+6.  Heal Grog.

No worries;  don't think there's any rush.

Noting Sundos at work on Grog, as well as his own injury, she planned to attend to Simon and Azatch.  Once she felt a bit more confidence there was nothing else out there...

"I try," she assured Cela, as regards her own worth.  She'd always had a cat growing up -  a feline presence was somehow comforting.

"You good at spotting ambush?" she asked of the tabaxi.  "You see anything out there?"   

Cela’s feline ears pricked, but only heard the sounds of Nature. She couldn’t detect any predator scents that could pose any threat to the group. However, Lenelle’s Elven legacy allowed her to peer through the swamp brush and see what Cela missed. Simon didn’t find any good fishing holes in their vicinity, but noticed Lenelle staring hard in a particular direction. His own curiosity led him to peek, too.

Vela's ears peel back and she makes a sniffing motion.  The smells of the battle overwhelm anything else.  "I don't hear anything strange" she tells Lenelle.

In reply to Cela (msg # 102):

Simon gestures, "Try over that way, by the tree with the mask stuck to it."

Grog seamed to pay attention to the tale, letting his hands work on his tasks as the man spoke.  His face did nothing to suggest either understanding or a lack thereof, almost like he treated it as background noise.

Grog looks up briefly with excitement, only to immediately lose interest.  "Command?  I~oh.  Thanks."  It was easy to figure out Grog's confusion in what happened, but he was immediately thankful.  He gives a proud nod with his thanks. ((Calculating Grog's HP: -10-15+11 = 14 below max.))

Once Grog had his fire and tent ready, he started preparing lizardmen for supper.  He looked rather happy as he cooked, but his lack of cooking supplies would leave the results of his efforts suspect.

Grog gutted and cleaned the dead Lizardmen for dinner. As he skinned his fallen foes, a vague possibility of selling their heads occurred to him. Maybe a tanner in Deadwater would pay good coin for them?

Cela nods at Simon and looks towards where he and Lenelle are looking.

She walks across the campsite, stopping to quietly tell Grog, "Grog, I'm not going to eat that."

Cela had thought Grog was a vegetarian until now - like the bulls his species was related to.  She hadn't paid a lot of attention to what he ate on the ship.  She'd had to eat lizardman or even goblin sometimes when she was in the army, but she didn't like to.  She didn't need to eat someone that talks tonight and wasn't going to.  What he did was his business.

Then she heads over to the mask that's been pointed out.

Lenelle gaped at Grog, once she realized he was making their fallen foes into dinner.  He meant well, she was pretty sure. She didn't want to speculate what that might taste like. And it was too close to cannibalism, cold blooded and scaled or no.

Anyway, they'd a mask to investigate:  On a certain oak tree, some thirty or so feet ahead. Hidden by leaves, it was of faded black and gray wood. Mimicking crudely a reptilian snout, and small horns.

"They had a shaman," she ventured. "Perhaps it's religiously significant?  Or to mark territory?"     Lenelle followed after Cela.  Wary of any lingering enemies.

And after a short distance, came to a halt: "I wouldn't get too near," she cautioned Cela. "It might be cursed.  Or trapped, in some way."   
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Mon 12 Apr 2021.

Thanks to Simon & Lenelle, the mask now stood out, despite previous efforts to hide it. As each person approached, nothing happened. The sun dipped lower, and even the urbane Lenelle knew that more dangerous things would soon come out...


OOC:

Anyone checking out the mask is welcome to make a History, Nature, or Arcana check.

Azatch gets Advantage on a History check.




 

Cela nods when Lenelle urges caution, and stops next to her.

She looks at the mask from a short distance.

16:50, Today: Cela rolled 11 using 1d20+1.  nature.

History Check: 12

Sundos came forward. "Don't touch it anybody." He pulled a slim wand out of his belt and pointed it at the mask.  He mumbled something in Celestial.

OOC: Use Detect Magic Wand

OOC: You get Advantage on (local) History. You can roll one more time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:28, Mon 12 Apr 2021.

From out in the forest, you hear a voice....not raspy like a Lizardsdfolk, but more humanoid. The feminine voice was clear as they spoke. "I doubt it's magical. Lizardfolk are territorial in nature. Like to mark their land. i think this is a marker."

From the forest to the left of the masked tree, movement could be heard as a cloaked figure emerged. Standing a little over three foot tall, they moved with grace and confidence, the only thing seen from the black cloak was an arm holding a shortbow made of dark oak.

The figure stopped just short of the camp and strangers, and removed her hood, revealing a halfling woman. The slender halfling was unusual as for her kind, she was lean, showing a lack of paunch that most halflings carried. Also, unlike most of her kind, she had a serious look on her face. Her dark blue eyes scanned the group as she stood there.

"Had i been minutes earlier, i could have aided you all, but it appears you don't need it." She crossed her arms as she looked around at the mix.

"I'm suprised to see a group here...especially one of your variety. a few humans, a half orc, a half elf, Minotaur....not many of your kind in these areas, and a cat person - Tabaxi? Never met one, but have heard of your kind" As she spoke she stepped lightly, around the group, not threatening, but just to move.

"I've been tracking theis group for two days....and i didn't expect this." She looked around with a sigh. "My name is Skye, but most call me Traill."

OOC: wow, this thread really got a way from me, haha. Ok, I just caught up. I don't check rpol or post much on the weekends, FYI

Azatch was still breathing heard after the battle ended as the adrenaliene washed out of his system. He waved away concerns for healing, "I'm fine, they got me a minor cut with one of those shields..." He seemed to notice for the first time that he was bleeding from his side, "Meh, just a glancing blow. Oh well, Ill be fine."

He went over to the Shaman and searched it. He then stacked up the weapons/shields/armor of the lizardfolk, thinking about trading his own shield out for a spiked version.

Azatch thought he recognized the mask and its significance, but the thought fled from his mind.

"If it makes you feel any better, they wouldn't think twice about eating you. Maybe that doesn't make you feel better. In any case, they themselves are a lot like animals. Pretty sure they eat each other. Not sure though."

When the halfling revealed herself, Azatch tensed, ready for another round of battle. He didn't fully relax afterward, though. Even small enemies could be devastatingly dangerous. He knew of a tiny berry that could kill an adult man. Well, human anyway. Probably.

He wondered idly if the girl was a daughter of the swamp, like he was a son. He wondered at Simon's tale too.

But all he said, in a straightforward voice, to the girl was, "Were there more than these in the group you were tracking?"

OOC:
Rolls, as requested.
22:27, Today: Simon rolled 20 using 1d20+4.  Nature.
22:27, Today: Simon rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Arcana.
22:26, Today: Simon rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Perception to find the goodies.
22:26, Today: Simon rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  History, just for fun.

Sundos stepped towards Skye smiling with his hand extended. "Greetings, Traill. I am Sundos...Sundos Brightblood. We could have used your help a few minutes ago. But I'm glad you're here now. We are on our way to a town called 'Deadwater'. Can you help us get there? We are making a camp for the night."

"Captain Roland has always said that halflings are great scouts and archers."

The halfling woman smiled at the comments of Sundos and Azatch. She adjusted her cloak back, to show the lean figure of a halfling. Her armor consisted of dark grey died leather with black hexagonal studs on it. On her left arm was a small crossbow, often used by single handed weapon, but strapped to her arm by a bracer. Behind her was a short sword and quiver of arrows.

"This i think is a scouting party. The lizard folk often split into teams for greater chance of finding prey....be it food related or more human. A shaman with them is rare though." She looked at the shaman her eyes cold. When Sundos spoke, a slight turning of the corner of her mouth was seen. "My kin are known for sharp eyes, but my opinion is they can be a bit lazy. I grew up in waterdeep as an orphan, but was trained from an early age by a hunter named Tannathas. I'm skilled in wilderness, stealth and archery"

She looked at the bodies. "My advice if your wanting to camp now....get off anything that looks like a path, move from here as when the lizardfolk come looking for their kin here, and they will, you don't want to be camped by them."

She looked over her shoulder. "There is a suitable camp area a few hours walk towards town, but if you must rest now, i'd move them before they smell....attracts the wildlife."

Simon blinks, "The next spot you know of is HOURS away? We weren't stopping because we're on a picnic, here, shortstuff. We've been walking all day and need a bit of a rest. You got anything close enough that we can sleep today? If not, we're probably better off here."

Trail narrowed her eyes at Simon and spoke in a low, even voice. “You have no idea what this place is human. You think this a park...you can set up camp wherever you like? You may have been walking here hours....I’ve been here DAYS! I spent two nights in a log avoiding them hunters.” She looked at the group as a whole then again at Simon, pointing at a dead lizard folk. “You see that....that’s not the only thing here that can kill you. Even them, what do you see....a mindless monster? You fool. These creatures are more than a overgrown reptile. They are cunning hunters. Their lives are survival....their view of fear, joy all beyond you.”

She began walking around one. “It’s jaws are tough enough to rip a mans arm off. It can stay underwater longer than you can imagine...even their senses.”  She stopped and looked at him again. “They could probably smell their kin’s blood further than your Minotaur friend can throw a rock.”

She stood, hands on hips. “You want to rest here....be my guest. But within a hour or two, you will find their kind swarming you.....not three or four like this, tens or more. And when they catch you, pray they kill you before they start eating you!l

She picked up her bow and sighed. “I know a place....not far. Not the safest, but with help, could be defendable.”

She glared at Simon. “....unless this fool speaks for all of you”

"I'm Cela."  That was enough introduction for now.  "He's right that it can't be too far.  We've had injuries  and some need to rest.  We can defend the closer location."  That's how using up spells worked, right?  Grog might mind re-setting up his cooking setup.  "The shaman was the real threat.  I'm glad there's not many of them."

Cela doesn't want anything from the lizardmen unless it's something that will help repair the ship, so she doesn't search the bodies.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 17 using 1d20+2.  History check.

Someone with the sort of skills this halfling offered would be more than a small (no pun intended) help.   It was a fortuitous meeting, she felt.

"My name is Lenelle," she greeted the newcomer. "Nelle suffices, if you like to lop names to one syllable.  Your advice seems more than sensible.   Though Simon has a point -- ungraciously delivered or no." She bit her lip. "I...don't know." She glanced to the others. "It seems for a little more effort and risk, we would end up safe & secure; for certain get the rest we need.  Whereas if we stay here, and have another confrontation at night -  a bad time to fight, for those who don't see well in the dark - and end up swarmed by them?"   She shook her head, not happy at all with that picture.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:15, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

Simon smiles at the halfling, "Foolish me, I was right, we all ARE to tired to travel hours more. But don't worry, I'm not so foolish I don't realize realize strangers approaching in a swamp are trustworthy. The lizardmen certainly were.

"How far is your next choice for our camp?"

Grog will let the lizards he was cooking simmer as he starts packing up his camp.

Given the time to do so, he'll collect the lizard's heads as well.  If he's rushed, he'll advise the others to help him.

Sundos held out the Wand and spoke words of power. He sensed no magic in or near the mask, although he sensed the dying embers of it in the Lizardman Shaman’s tarnished staff...and the shaman’s heart, lying alongside the rest of his organs after Grog cleaned the body. The Cleric intuited that magic could still be derived from both.

Cela knew that Lizardfolk often enjoyed the flavor of humanoid travelers who trespassed on their territories. Lenelle recalled stories she’d heard of empires sending envoys to negotiate treaties, and the Lizardfolk deciding that the flesh of the envoy tasted better than any terms of proposed treaties. She and Simon realized that Skye spoke the truth, but they also knew that the Lizard tribes respected superior force. They knew that the mask marked the Lizard lands.

However, Simon deduced that the mask marked a literal boundary of territory. They’d wandered near Lizardfolk territory, but not into it. A point that Skye made about the Shaman’s presence in the ambush lingered with Simon, Lenelle, & Skye (OOC: And anyone who rolled 15 or better). It was uncharacteristic for a simple scouting or hunting party.  Azatch realized that his wrong turn led them toward Lizardfolk territory. Deadwater lay a few more hours to the Southwest.

Would the party risk a night’s rest or break camp and travel after sunset?
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:21, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

OOC: Cela is in favor of a more defendable/less next to lizardfolk territory/corpses location if Skye knows one close by, but traveling hours in the dark seems dumb even if more than half the group has darkvision.  (Cela, Grog, Azatch, Lenelle all should)

I think my last IC post covers that, but wanted to make sure it was clear.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:29, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 124):

Simon point to the tree, "As the mask indicated, we are outside the boundary to the Lizard's hunting grounds. They strayed and met superior force.  Another group likely won't make the same mistake. Especially if their dead are left at the marker tree as a warning to stay in their own territory.

"But what we all have missed, myself included, would be the horns on the mask. Lizardmen don't have horns, so why would they make a mask that had both fake snout and fake horns? What is it a mask of? And are we sure Lizards made it? Would they muzzle themselves with that fake snout?

"I suspect we are as safe here as anywhere in the swamp. Possibly safer, if the next place is on the other side of their border. Besides, if others DO come upon us, we can ask about the mask."

Then he turns aside a bit, "Thank you, Hakim, I let myself become distracted."

And he turns back, "Now, who would like to hear the Tale of the Three Bricklayers?"

"There is a compromise we can make? Say travel half an hour towards Deadwater and away from the lizard's border? Then set up camp? Might make for a quieter night's sleep."

"The compromise sounds better than staying here.  Only some of us can see well enough to travel in the dark."

Simon nods, "Then we travel. Keep an eye out for more border totems. Let's not cross any borders if we can avoid it.

"Now, while we travel, let me tell you about the Bricklayers Three:

"One day, three brothers, masons all, got into an argument on the job site. Being brothers it was a fairly meaningless argument: Which of them was the strongest. They debated, the argued, and they even came to blows, and, trust me, a three-way fist fight is quite humorous to behold. Finally, tired of it all, their foreman came up with a fairly obvious and simple contest: See who could throw a brick the farthest.

"Now, these brothers, as may be apparent already, were not Sage material. In fact, they thought sage was something you cooked with. Well, the bright one did, at least.

"So, they agreed to the contest and stepped out from the wall they were building, each with his brick. And they started their distance contest...as a height contest.

"The first brother threw his brick into the air as hard as he could. It went up, 3, 4, 5 feet before coming back down smack on the head of the brother who had thrown it (and who was watching intently to see how high he'd gotten). A cleric was sent for, of course.

"Rather than wait, the second brother did HIS throw. Up it went 9, 10, 11 feet, almost out of sight (to be fair they WERE facing in the direction of the sun), and then it, too, came down. By the time he could see it, he almost managed to step out of the way. Almost. But the cleric was already on the way, and could surely repair that foot, after the other's head.

"And, finally, the last brother, oldest, largest, and, presumably, strongest. He gave a good wind up and threw his brick. And, sure enough, his brick went past the 12 foot mark, past the 15 foot mark, and well out of sight. The foreman grabbed him by his collar and pulled him back a couple of feet and they waited, but it never came back down.

"The oldest won, of course. And the cleric, when hearing what had happened and why, prayed mightily for the brothers, and, more importantly, for everyone around them...just in case."

"Simon."  Cela is a little irritated.

"You are not the guide.  We wait for Azatch to decide.". Everyone else can have an opinion, but those are just suggestions.  Azatch and the new girl were the ones who knew the swamp, but who knows where she might lead them.

In reply to Cela (msg # 130):

Simon shakes his head, "Well make up my mind already. Or we can talk it to death. Now, consider, who do you think has the stronger and more deadly weapon in a discussion to the death?" Simon grins at Cela.

While Simon argued with Cela, they noticed a crocodile peeking out over the top of a creek bank. The large reptile regarded them with droopy-lidded eyes. Maybe it lazed on a full belly after a meal. Maybe it would be some time before it hungered again. The crocodile didn’t leave its spot, but it definitely noticed the bickering travelers.

OOC:

Sundos, a Religion check if you please. Anyone else proficient in Religion can roll, or make an Arcana check.

 
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:47, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

OOC:
11:51, Today: Simon rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Arcana.

This one feels important, let's use the Talisman for the second time today:
11:52, Today: Simon rolled 3 using 1d4.  arcana add.

17 total.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:20, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

Sundos never was very good at studying...

OOC:
13:00, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 6 using 1d20-1.

Grog will toss the croc an uncooked lizard, then finish up his packing.  With a heavy sigh, he looked ready to head out.  He woke up just before this trip, so he had energy left for travel.

Grog samples his cooking as he waited for movement, figuring he'd eat along the way.

While Sundos divined the magical potential of the Shaman’s staff and heart, his knowledge ended with that general awareness. It was Simon who remembered an old tale of the Lizardfolk, a story where the Arcane intersected with the Divine. The “Heart of Semaunya”, the heart of a devoted shaman,  could be brewed with alchemist’s tools into a Potion of Polymorph. The potion would allow the user to shape-shift into a crocodile.

Grog found that Lizardfolk flesh also tasted somewhat like chicken.
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:57, Wed 14 Apr 2021.

Sundos is taking the staff with him. Maybe they could figure out what it was later.

"Azatch, Traill, either of you two know of someplace dry not too far away?"

Simon tells of the formula for Crocodile Polymorph while staring at the crocodile. "Makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

OOC:

quote:

Grog found that Lizardfolk flesh also tasted somewhat like chicken.

*I* was going to make that joke....

With a resigned grunt from Grog (and Simon), our heroes followed Skye on a 45 minute slog through marsh. Mosquitoes nipped at them as they walked, making certain members of the party even more irritable. The boots or feet were soaked as they sloshed through swamp muck. At the end of that trek, though, relief appeared in the form of a clearing.

A trio of oak trees and a willow stretched almost protectively over what looked like the dryest grass that they had seen all day. Azatch realized that they were less than a quarter day's walk from Deadwater. A good night’s rest would refreshen them and enable them to make the remainder of their journey in even less time! As they prepared to cast off their traveler’s packs, they also noticed a low-standing table set with several plates of food.

Skye didn’t recall seeing THAT before!
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:55, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

Simon checks over the menu to see if it's the sort of fare Hakim likes or something more local, then pulls off his hip waders and puts back on his dry boots.

Life is good when your socks stay dry.

The plates bear local fruit, cheese, small loaves of bread, two honeycombs, and herbs. Seven goblets of pure water sit beside the plates. Whether or not Hakim would approve, Simon didn’t see anything that violated his own culinary customs.

Azatch was not so foolish as to not see the wisdom in moving, but he could see Simon's point too. Azatch figured that the Lizardfolk party was odd, and that to see another would be odd also. If anything, then might send a small force to look for their missing party, and then come with reinforcements, which could prove dangerous. But who knows how long that would take them.

In any case, Azatch did not mind deferring to someone else. He had misled the party already and wouldn't cast stones, even at a mouthy halfling that seemed to think she was entitled to respect. He would let her prove whether or not she deserved any.

At some point, Azatch walks next to Simon. "I do not tell stories, and people have not told me stories very much. But I like what they make me think about. I don't have a story, but sometimes I wonder a question. What would I wish for if I met a powerful faerie or other wish granter. Wishing is far beyond the needs of survival, and to never need to worry how to survive, I think, is not living. Like a pet or a caged bird. So, Azatch is wise enough to know that Azatch doesn't know what he would desire of a genie. That is not a story, but it feels the same to me. Maybe because there is no answer at the end."

When Azatch saw the table, his eyes immediately darted away to look for anyone, or anything, that might be hiding nearby, or anything else that was out of place.

Perception: 15 (with or without advantage)

Azatch also determines that he and Simon are opposites in many ways.

"Actually, I do have a story. An animal once found some food in the forest, then it fell into a trap. Then it became the food. The end."

Azatch begins stalking around the area, looking for tracks or any other disturbance to the landscape.

16:42, Today: Azatch rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  survival.

Simon shrugs, "Note that I did not ask for an easy life, merely a long one. Nor did I ask for riches, merely a friendship. Sometimes the wisdom is in knowing what NOT to ask for."

Cela looks at the clearing.  That cheese does smell good.  "Azatch, I think you may find out what happens when you meet the fae sooner than you expected.  Might be we've already met their agent."  She turns to Skye.

18:04, Today: Cela rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  perception.

Azatch didn’t see any tracks or traps. The only disturbance to the landscape was the table itself. The immediate area was ideal for camping, though. A brook flowed nearby with cattails that they could burn to keep away bugs. A cedar tree nearby could also provide enough bark to do the deed with some smoking of the bark.

Cela sniffed the air and the newer guide. She caught the sweet notes of honey and fruit. The cheese aroused her appetite. No scent of any poisons or unnatural additives. Skye didn’t smell like anything other than sweaty Halfling.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:10, Tue 13 Apr 2021.

Sundos was glad to have reached a good campsite. But was careful after seeing the table. He swung his shield off his back and onto his arm.

He looked around on the ground around the table, looking for any footprints or disturbances of the ground around the table.


OOC:
16:22, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Survival Look for foot prints.

No foot tracks, paw tracks, or Lizardfolk tracks. Just the smell of recently baked bread that Sundos realized might taste yummy with some of that honey or cheese. Did he also see a small cup of butter? The sun had set, the wildlife serenaded them with their own rustic evensong, and their stomachs rumbled with hunger.

"This smacks of a trap," put in Lenelle. "Who in the Hells would set a table, not knowing whether anyone was coming? And if it is any entity like the fae, their gifts are usually not without strings, I hear." 

She looked about, but her lack of experience in these settings wasn't serving her.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 8 using 1d20+1.  survival .
Lenelle Toreth rolled 6 using 1d20+3.  perception.

"What about using the wand, to inspect for magic in the vicinity?"

Sundos nodded to Lenelle. "Good idea. To be honest, I feel more comfortable standing in the ranks of soldiers."

He again took out his want of detect magic and pointed it at the table and waved it over the table, and everything on it.

Once again, Sundos waved the Wand with a flourish. The Wand passed over the food on the table. Then, Sundos turned in a circle slowly, sweeping the perimeter with the Wand.

Lenelle nodded at Sundos' comment, "I can well understand that.  I've no military experience. But I'd feel more comfortable with a platoon of soldiers, too."

"There are seven cups.  Whoever set it knows how many we are."

Are there diffences in the chairs?  two sized differently for a halfing and a minotaur?

Cela is hungry looking at this.  She rummages through her bag for rations.  Fish jerky, made on the ship.  Not as good as that cheese, but comes without strings.

Cela didn’t see any chairs. There was only the table, a few plates of food (OOC: charcuterie style), and seven cups.

OOC:

Roll a Save vs. “Charm”, -2 penalty.

OOC:
Missed the -2. It's 16 with that.

17:40, Today: Simon rolled 18 using 1d20+4.  Charm save (Same for Int, Wis, or Chr).

"The food isn't magical. But I think magic was used to bring it here. Maybe it's a blessing from Pelor or one of the other Divines."

He picked up a piece of bread and took a bite.

OOC:
19:00, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 20 using 1d20+3.  Save vs Charm -2

:53, Today: Cela rolled 13 using 1d20.  Wis save at -2.

Sundos bit through a delightfully crisp crust into soft bread. Cela suddenly realized that fish jerky wouldn’t taste as nice as the fresher cheeses and butter. She, too, tasted the food as the skeptics watched with baited breath.

Base +1 wis save -2 = -1
Half-elf: advantaged on save vs. charm
Lenelle Toreth rolled 11 using 1d20-1.  Wis save.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 18 using 1d20-1. Using this one. 

"Hmm. Call me a cynic. But, I've a hard time imagining some benevolent god deciding to bless us with a free buffet."  Given the source of her own magic, there was a little irony in her saying so.

Lenelle notes that while the appearance of the food was strange, they lived in a world where “Strange” hardly meant “Impossible”. The Half-Elf watched Sundos eat the bread with a suspicious eye. She noticed that he didn’t keel over or turn into a goblin. Neither did the table trap him like the Mimics said to lurk in dark dungeons.

Skye led the group to the clearing without a word. She found the human irritating and self inflated, but said nothing more. As she came to the clearing, she paused, looking at the table with narrowed eyes. “That wasn’t there last time”She muttered to herself as she entered the clearing slowly.

She listened to the scepticism of the table and mirrored their thoughts.

“Your no cynic Nelle....when I was here a few days ago, there was no food, not even a table. To have it here....” She let the thought hang as she looked around the clearing, her hand still in her bow.

<OOC:  Skye Keenshadow rolled 19 using 1d20 - wis save -2>

Everyone who saw Sundos eat the bread noticed that nothing happened other than a smile from his gratification. The food looked tasty, like well-made and well selected food. They saw no wires or traps. The table didn’t come alive and try to eat him. Nobody could detect any enemies near their campsite.

Although they couldn’t reasonably explain why a table was in the swamp, it was just a table set with food. And they were hungry. It seemed safe enough, if a little unusual.

Cela drops the ration she'd taken out and moves to the table to grab some cheese, and starts eating it.

Sundos picked up a piece of cooked meat. He sniffed it before eating it. "The food is good. It's not magical. So far doesn't seem poisoned. A priest might have casted Create Food. Just because the food is alright, doesn't mean the priest isn't still around. Keep your eyes up and out. It still might be a trap, just the bait is honey."

While that may be how the food appeared, no priest ever showed up to take credit for it. Even Sundos would admit that many priests wouldn’t perform such a miracle without mentioning the god responsible for it. Cela bit into a piece of cheese, and realized that it did indeed taste better than dry jerky. She didn’t keel over sick, polymorph into another shape, or fall into a daze.

OOC:

Does anyone else eat the food?

For her, it was a conflict between experience and intuition --  something that was occurring more and more frequently.  The former often had a bucket of cold water ready for the latter, when it sought to kindle.  But, some things were hard, impossible, to refute.  Such as this.  She nodded at Skye's comment, glanced to Sundos as he spoke.   Then approached the table; one handing reaching for something.

No, of course not. The menu is missing a bit. Simon slips back on his hip waders and gets his tackle box and pole. He heads off to get a little something for dinner.

There was a momentary expression on Lenelle's face, as her hand lowered.  Surprise, concern, apprehension -- some of mix of those.   The middle one rose above the other two.   She took several glances about, looking for --


-- she blinked, turning toward the table again.  Hesitated only briefly; then tried a bite of the food.

Lenelle grasped a piece of honeycomb, the sweet liquid gold dripping on her fingertips. For a moment, she understood how her Elvish ancestors must have dined in similar manner in Nature. What she ate made her senses sing, but only in the way good food usually affected people.

Soon, Cela, Lenelle, & Sundos devoured  most of the food. They didn’t realize how ravenous the fight and marching are them until they braved the mysterious plates of food. The others remained suspicious, and declined the offering, settling for dried rations or the sparse handful of crawdads that Simon caught. Still, the presentation and food made a surprisingly lovely end for an otherwise grueling day in the swamp.

Within the hour, everyone fell asleep, with the fighters taking turns on watch. The night passed uneventfully, the silence only broken by crickets and bullfrogs. The members of the party slept peacefully, and found themselves revitalized when they awoke an hour ahead of their comrades, rising with the earliest rays of dawn. Cela, Lenelle, and Sundos waited almost impatiently for their companions to finally wake up.

"For all you know, you just unwittingly made a deal with a faerie."

Is all Azatch says.

In the morning, he tells the party where he thinks town is, and looks to Sky to confirm.

After Sundos ate his fill, he will help around camp. However, before bedding down for the night, he approached Grog and asks, "How are you feeling, Big Guy?" He then placed his hands on Grog's arms and smiled at him as he casts Cure Wounds. Healed 13 hp

"Grog, be Blessed and Healed. Pelor will watch over you."

OOC:

14:35, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 13 using 1d8+6.  Heal Grog.

Skye woke before dawn, watching over the group as they slept. The young halfling was cautious at the best of times, but with a group of so many, she stayed on her toes. As the others rouse, she prepares to move with them. As Azatch speaks, she nods. “A few hours walk and we will be at the town. We may need to detour a bit to avoid a lizard folk hunting ground, but that will add an hour at the most”

She looked on as the priest healed the Minotaur.“If you need more healing, I can help....nature has provided me a little magic. I’m not too good at it, but can help if need.” She picks up her bow. “But maybe we should save it for later....in case”

"You know, that cheese might almost be worth it." Cela says to Azatch.

"I wasn't going to eat it but it just... kinda happened."

"I'm glad you still seem fine." Azatch said truthfully. He knew that being suspicious necessarily meant missing out on certain types of adventures, but from before the day he was born, he was a survivor.

Yesterday, she'd have agreed with Azatch as to the dangers of consuming that food.  But, she had reason to feel elsewise now.   As well as a promise, of sorts, to keep. Once she had a clearer idea of what needed to be done.

She assisted with breaking camp; any tasks that needed to be done, saying nothing.

Up early, Sundos was speaking to Lenelle and Cela. "I love this time of the day. Just before Sunrise. You know that Sunrise is the most sacred time of the day? It's when Light conquers Darkness. I love Sunrise. It gives me hope, that even when things are the darkest, if we can hold out a little longer, Sunrise and Light will shortly return."

He smiled at them. "Will you two excuse me a minute? I would like to be alone for little while."

He walked over to the eastern edge of the camp. With arms out stretched, he greeted the Sun at Sunrise. A start to a new day.

After Sundos finished his morning prayers to Pelor, the group broke camp. They folded up the sleeping blankets, packed their bags, and Grog cleared the campfire. Skye took a few pointers from Azatch about his old stomping grounds, and the pair collaborated to guide them through the swamp. The first hour passed as quickly as their brisk marching pace. They admired the cypress trees that stretched languorously from the vast expanse of water.

By mid-morning, their pace slowed as they trudged through muddy waters. They hacked away the tangled vines that hung in their way. Overhead, the sunlight once again dimmed as the tree cover thickened. Soon, the party found themselves crossing a lazy river covered in lily pads and bits of pond scum from adjoining streams. The water they slogged through hit them just chest-high, and Skye found herself straddling Azatch’s shoulders. The water was so murky that they  couldn’t see their own legs.

OOC:

Perception checks, everybody!

Azatch takes the lead, hoping to make up for the day before.

Perception: 18 (with or without adv)

Traill, perched on the half orc, had a look mixed between embarrassment and irritation, as she looked around the swampy water

<OOC: Skye Keenshadow rolled 14 using 1d20+2.  Perception check>

As they set out on foot again, Simon regales the folks with a method of faster travel used in far off lands. Yes: The Tale of the Dog, the Sea-Gar, and the Flying Ship

"In distant Halruaa, magic is part of every aspect of life, even travel. Those who have more monay than time (you know the sort) ride flying ships (galleons and the like that take to the air and go far over the land) to travel long distances.

"Now, these sorts of people thing the world revolves around them, and really dislike not getting their way. Two such were the man and the woman that met on one fine flying ship during a long journey ne day ling past.

"The man had a hobby. He liked the taste of smoke in his lungs. Not pipeweed and a pipe, like halflings, mind you, but a Maztecan herb that is also smoked, but not chopped and flavored and packed in a pipe, rather the leaves are gathered and rolled tightly into a cylinder. The end of the cylinder was cut off and placed in the mouth, while the other end was lit on fire. Smoke was sucked into the lungs much like a pipe, but without the flavoring and herbal additions, it can smell quite disgusting, or so I'm told. They are called Sea-Gars, like some sort of ocean fish.

"The woman, on the other hand, had a more typical hoppy: A small yapping ankle biting  canine. Well, in theory a canine. I'm told it had more in common with rodents.

"Now, placement on these flying ships was often assigned seating on crowded journeys, and the woman and the man had adjoining seats near the guardrail. As you can expect, the dog was left to it's own devices, which resulted in the man's footwear being slobbered on, chewed, and even...well, the little yapper may have relieved itself on his boots. Meanwhile, the woman thought she was living in the center of a Stinking Cloud spell, gasping for air the whole journey.

"As can be expected, the two had words, both thinking the other should do what was necessary for the other's comfort. Eventually, once things became unsurvivable for both, a compromise was reached. Both dog and Sea-Gar were tossed over the guardrail.

"Things became much more pleasant for the two...and the twenty or thirty other passengers around them. Until a sound was heard form over the rail. Looking down, they saw, on the stabilization fin, the dog. You can imagine what it had in it's mouth."

OOC:
I hate just posting the checks, so I added some filler.

22:46, Today: Simon rolled 21 using 1d20+4.  perception.

The hike through the jungle is a pain in the ass, but Sundos is having fun. He's excited to be surrounded by so much life. This is a truly blessed land.

He doesn't know the name of any of the plants or flowers, but he is excited to see any flowers or colorful birds fly by.

OOC:
00:29, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 5 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

  Grog will pat down his various wounds, shrug, and raise his hand to just below his pecs.

  Grog will smile, and offer a better reply. "I good now."

Grog will chuckle a bit at them throwing the dogs over the guard rail, and again at that line.  He finally appeared to be paying attention to one of Simon's stories.

((Grog rolled 3 using 1d20+1.  Perception Check.))

OOC: 10:00, Today: Cela rolled 11 using 1d20+4.  perception.

Cela does not like trudging through the swamp, complaining about the water but staying near the front (just behind the guides)

She brings up a concern.  "We'll need to carry the supplies back to the ship on a cart.  It won't be easy to bring them this way."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:35, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Simon waits a bit then nods, "Yes, a brick, of course."

Lenelle Toreth rolled 14 using 1d20+3.  perception.

Pond scum never did anything for her mood.  Not that she'd ever had any direct encounters with it previously.  There was a first time for everything.   Nonetheless, there was a deeper sense of purpose she'd not possessed before.   It centered her, increased her determination.

Traill atop Azatch's shoulder made her briefly smile. And she was some impressed with Simon's capacity to relate a longish tale, while keeping his footing in the mud, and plowing through the deep water.

"Maybe we can hire some help?" she ventured, in response to Cela's very relevant concern.

Lenelle also ceased moving momentarily, to focus do something she should have done earlier...

Casting Mage armor
This message was last edited by the player at 16:00, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

In reply to Lenelle Toreth (msg # 186):

Simon shrugs, "Well, depending on how much it all weighs and how many trips I'd need, we could just put most or all of it in my pavilion."

Grog actually seemed engaged by Simon’s latest tale, while Sundos appreciated the large blooms of Magnolias on the river bank. They could be forgiven for failing to notice the large submerged mass that swept past them in the murky waters. Cela jerked forward when she felt movement at her back that seemed like a massive log briefly break the party’s marching order. She double-stepped forward with a quickness that caught the attention of everyone except Grog & Sundos.

Lenelle & Skye spotted movement in the water as it stirred the water in a large ripple to their left. Azatch cautiously scanned the area, well-verses in the creatures that stalked the swamp of his boyhood! His eyes darted toward the river bank ahead, noting the bushes and reeds that looked as if they’d been smushed by an overturned oak tree. He realized what likely lurked in the river waters near them!

Although Simon regaled his party with another tall tale, that didn’t mean he failed in maintaining his vigilance. A splash nearby told him that the Efreet upheld his end of the pact once again, as a large claw that glanced harmlessly resulted in the creature attached being shoved upriver! The Warlock and Barbarian realized that they only had seconds to leave the river! A quiet voice in Simon’s mind whispered of a menace quite families to those of his desert homeland, a threat equalily familiar to Azatch in the swamps near Deadwater: Crocodile.

To make it worse, Azatch and Simon realized with dread awareness that they would soon face a Giant Crocodile!

OOC:

You have a head start in exiting the river with a Swim check. The Giant Crocodile swam 50 feet away and circled back.

 
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:05, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

"That Crocodile that's been watching us is back." Simon heads for high ground while prepping his first defense.

OOC:
10:07, Today: Simon rolled 5 using 1d4+4.  False Life.

Edit: Swim Check:
11:08, Today: Simon rolled 16 using 1d20+1.  Swim: Athletics .

Edit 2:
12:09, Today: Simon rolled 13 using 1d20+1.  initiative.

This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

"Wait..what? Aww... shit."

Sundos sticks by Grog and pushed him towards the nearest shore line. "Let's get out of the water, everybody."

EDIT Forgot the swim roll


12:43, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 17 using 1d20.  Swim.

EDIT EDIT
14:27, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 10 using 1d20.  Initiative .
This message was last edited by the player at 20:27, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Cela heads for the shore as quickly as she can.

13:33, Today: Cela rolled 16 using 1d20+2.  swim.
If I can use feline agility to double speed here, I will do so.

15:06, Today: Cela rolled 23 using 1d20+3.  init.
edit: adding initiative
This message was last edited by the player at 19:06, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Grog was quick to act when alerted, and swam with a bit of a slow start.  Assuming he wasn't grabbed and pulled under, he'd likely only gain time from here.

((Grog rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Swim (Athletics) Check.))

((Well, knowing how far we need to swim (from here) would be nice.  It likely has (at minimum) double our swim speed not accounting for speed penalties.  Just a request, not a requirement. :P ))

((EDIT: Grog rolled 15 using 1d20+1.  Initiative.))
This message was last edited by the player at 20:01, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 6 using 1d20-1.  swim check.

Lenelle simply wasn't a strong enough swimmer to manage what most of the others were doing.   She knew a moment of panic, as she realized she wasn't going to make it out before that thing circled back.   But, resolve came in on the heels of that; and she readied herself as much she could.  The words of the spell she thought, prayed would be most effective, at the forefront of her mind...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 20 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:58, Thu 15 Apr 2021.

Azatch, a half-orc of few words, reaches for something at his belt while reaching up to put a bracing hand on the halfling's shoulder. His other hand came up out of the water with a stoppered potion. He yanked the cork plug out with his teeth, then gulped down the potion which caused his body to surge then Enlarge to double his normal size.

He stepped toward the shore, scooping Lennelle on his way, then deposited her and the halfling on dry-ish ground.

The now-giant Azatch turned to confront and intercept the croc.

Initiative: 14

Traill, at her vantage point, recognised the signs of the animal before she saw the ganger, her hand closing tightly on Azatch's shoulder. "Get me as close to the shore as you can and i can cover you" she muttered, her other hand grasped on her shortbow.

<OOC: Skye Keenshadow rolled 10 using 1d20+5.  iniative.

When I get close enough to wade to dry land, Traill will jump off and cover people with her bow.

…even simon  >

Cela’s hatred of being wet fueled her feline speed, and she reached the shore first with much hissing and spitting. Lenelle wasn’t much of a swimmer, so she prepared herself for an ordeal with a crocodile the size of an oak tree by readying a spell. Despite his muscled bulk, Grog successfully closed the remaining distance and stumbled ashore!

Not far away, Azatch saw Lenelle’s distress and acted. He grabbed the Potion of Growth, popping the cap and chugging the pungent brew. His limbs spawned and elongated, as the Barbarian doubled in size and proportionate strength! Standing nearly fifteen feet tall, the giant snatched up Lenelle and strode toward shore. When he walked within six feet, he tossed her gently on the river bank.

Meanwhile, Simon surprised himself by keeping up with Cela & Grog! A speed born of desperation brought the Warlock ashore, too, and he wasted no time casting his False Life spell. Sundos meant well, trying to help Grog, but the Minotaur managed without him. He sloshed out of the water the same time Skye leapt off the enlarged Azatch’s shoulder. The Halfling tumbled off, quickly springing to her feet and pulling her crossbow.

The Giant Crocodile raised a fearsome snout from the water, making the party’s jaws drop when they saw the intimidating size of the reptile! It swam toward shore with astonishing speed. However, a fifteen foot tall Azatch stood between the huge beast and his companions!

OOC: Combat begins the next round, same order of Initiative!

Initiative

Cela
Lenelle
Grog
Azatch
Simon
Sundos
Skye
Giant Crocodile
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:59, Fri 16 Apr 2021.

Simon considers nipping into his pavilion for his crossbow, but settles for his ever popular Flaming Rays of Mediocrity. Even when he hits, it's like his stories: No one gets the punchline.

OOC:
22:38, Today: Simon rolled 6,2 using 2d6+2,2d6.  scorching ray 2 hits (I think).
22:37, Today: Simon rolled 18,10,23 using 1d20+4,1d20+4,1d20+4.  Scorching Ray x3.

If an 18 hits, 8 fire damage, if not, only 4.

Still dripping from the disgusting swamp, Cela pulls out the javelin strapped to the side of her pack and hurls it at the snout raising from the water.

09:16, Today: Cela rolled 22(hit),4 (dam) using d20+5,d6+3.  throw javelin.

It was a little challenging to process all at once:   Imminent crocodilian doom...striving to get her wits together for a spell...suddenly being snatched from harm's way by a goliath barbarian...back on reasonably dry land, and...right; the spell!

She changed her mind from what she'd been planning; resorting to her mainstay instead.   She took aim, desperately wanting to hit; to eliminate the threat to the one who'd bravely aided her.   That desperation became a silent, inuitive invocation to a deity she still didn't have a name for:

Cast Guiding bolt (at croc) as 2nd level spell ::
Lenelle Toreth rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  guiding bolt.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 6 using 2d4.  favored by the gods. -added to attack roll
Total to hit = 20
Lenelle Toreth rolled 12 using 5d6.  (Ugh, mediocrity... but Simon's still the king!)

Next attack on Croc advantaged, due to lingering glow   (Azatch, I believe, based on Grog's choice)
 
This message was last edited by the player at 18:25, Fri 16 Apr 2021.

Grog looked frustrated as he drew his melee weapon.  He positioned himself between the CrocOrGater and the rest of his party.

((Should the enemy end his turn 30' from Grog, he will activate his Stone Rune in an attempt to stun it.  What that does is written on Grog's character sheet, and it would kick in on the enemy's turn after all the spellcasters fling their spells at it.  The 'attack of opportunity' would likely not kick in due to the 'Gater' being very likely to have a 10' reach himself... as would Azatch I assume given the two size category increases.  A very nice potion.))

Sundos stood near the river. He pointed at Azatch and said, "Mighty Lord of Light, give your protection to that brave warrior."

Cast Shield of Faith on Azatch.
Azatch has a bonus of +2 AC.


12:55, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 18 using 1d20 ((18)). Init

Azatch nods a thanks at Sundos and says to him and the others, "Kill the croc, keep me alive*."

He then braces himself for another bestial transformation. A low growl, made deeper by his increased size, reverberates in his chest (not unlike a croc, akshully), which grows into a might roar. At the same time, his skin looks to form a scaly texture (also not unlike the croc). He hunches forward as his spine begins to elongate growing a powerful spiked tail.

He waits to intercept the croc.

OOC: Bonus action: rage; Tail
          Action: ready action - Grapple (that's right, my plan it literally to wrestle a croc)

Athletics check w/ adv: 21 (Both rage and potion of growth give me advantage to strength checks, I wouldn't hate it if you made one of those apply a +5 instead)

Boy it would be nice if we could get Grog's OA in, if possible. Azatch would position himself in the most advantageous way possible to try and make this happen.

*Also, note to healers, feel free to heal me after I go down to 0 hp, if it comes to that, the giant growth doesn't require concentration, and I can burn more rages.

The halfling nodded as Azatch tossed her to a dry patch of land, the nimble halfling rolling and coming to a knee with her shortbow in hand. She calmly draws two arrows, placing one in her mouth. She takes aim and fires. Before the first hits, she fires the second arrow.

<OOC: Action - Attack croc with shortbow

Skye Keenshadow rolled 16 using 1d20+5.  attack - shortbow.
Skye Keenshadow rolled 9 using 1d6+3.  damage - shortbow. (If it hits)

Skye Keenshadow rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Dread ambusher attack.>

When the enormous crocodile swam closer to Azatch, the rest of the party smoothly coordinated a defense of their giant-sized companion. Like a champion athlete of the great games, Cela hurled her javelin with pinpoint accuracy! The tip penetrated a weak spot near the beast’s neck, and the javelin jutted out like a long thorn.

Lenelle calmed herself once Azatch set her on solid ground. Reaching within herself, she once again summoned the guiding bolts of celestial light that served her well in the fight against the Lizardmen. The bolt struck the giant crocodile in a burst of shimmering sparks! The great reptile bellowed, and the spot where Lenelle struck it illuminated the newest wound. Her companions would have an easier time hitting the thing now!

Grog utilized his own mystical talent, invoking the Stone Rune to slow the crocodile. The spell wasn’t instantaneous, but would take effect in less than half a minute.

Simon conjured a triple beam of fire that struck the spot that Lenelle illuminated. Two of the scorching rays hit, eliciting a pained yowl that unnerved those who heard it. Although Simon felt disappointed over not inflicting more damage, his attack sufficiently supplemented Cela & Lenelle’s earlier hits.

Ever thoughtful of others, Sundos cast a protective spell over Azatch. Pelor’s Might would help shield the Barbarian against the crocodile’s worst attacks.

Not one to be left out of a good fight, Skye joined the fray! The Halfling Ranger coolly sighted the thrashing beast with her short bow. She released her arrow, which struck the crocodile’s side as it turned toward Azatch. Another thorn now stood out from the reptilian hide.

Emboldened by his new stature, the Barbarian worked himself into a rage! Once again, the tail appeared, ready to thrash any foe. He greeted the crocodile with a defiant roar and open arms! Rushing toward the beast with a great splash, Azatch grappled the Giant Crocodile! Unfortunately, that put his within uncomfortably close reach of the crocodile’s maw. The teeth bit painfully into Azatch’s side, but the cleric’s spell protected him from the beast’s equally deadly tail. (OOC: 30 bite damage to Azatch! YIKES! )

Before the beast could act again, though, Grog’s Stone Rune took effect! The crocodile’s maw relaxed, as the magic put the beast into a stupor...


OOC:

22:49, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 30 using 3d10+5.  Bite damage.
22:48, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 17 using 1d20+8.  Croc tail attack.
22:48, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Croc bite attack.
22:44, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 10 using 1d20.  Wisdom save for Croc.

I’ll give Azatch the grapple, and Grog’s Rune remains in effect until the Croc makes a successful Saving Throw.


The Giant Crocodile is Wounded. The party dealt 33 damage!


 
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:29, Sat 17 Apr 2021.

Simon tries his workhorse spell, Fiery Force, but, warm as it is, it packs little force.

OOC:
20:36, Today: Simon rolled 10 using 1d20+6.  eldritch Blast at +2 hit.
23:16, Today: Simon rolled 4 using 1d10+2.  Eldritch Blast plus genie's wrath.
23:15, Today: Simon rolled 25 using 1d20+6.  Advantage roll for Attack.

4 damage. 2 each force and fire.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:18, Sat 17 Apr 2021.

Azatch's goal was to keep the beast occupied, but he was now finding that it had the same idea. So, the barbarian was surprised by the sudden relaxing of the jaws, but wasn't going to look a gift croc in the mouth, he held his grip and lashed the croc recklessly with his tail.

"Rawr!"

Att: 21
Dam: 13 +4 for enlarged (forgot to roll earlier)

Azatch rolled 13 using 1d8+6.  tail whip damage.
Azatch rolled 21 using 2d20+6, dropping the lowest dice only.  tail whip.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:49, Sun 18 Apr 2021.

Traill was a little surprised by the subdued behaviour of the croc, but she had no reaction, purely focused on what needed to be done. She drew an arrow, and aiming down the sight of the shaft, sent it flying to the softer flesh under the croc's underside where it was softer.

<OOC: Attacks using shortbow


Skye Keenshadow rolled 24 using 1d20+5.  attack - shortbow.
Skye Keenshadow rolled 9 using 1d6+3.  damage - shortbow.>

This thing was, by far, the most gruesome menace she'd beheld since leaving home.  Had she'd been left in the water to confront it, her life would've ended with a single snap of its jaws.

Enlarged, Azatch was best suited of any of them to face it --  but even he couldn't take another bite like that!   Her magic could impact the mind as well as matter, and she reckoned this thing didn't have much of one...

Lenelle's hand traced a smooth, repetitive pattern, as she uttered arcane syllables.   The image took form within her imagination first. Certainly, she'd be freaked by it. The thing they fought-?   Only one way to know!

Casting Phantasmal Force
DC 13; intelligence save 

This was the illusion the spell sought to weave within the colossal croc's brain:   The waters stirred nearby -- something big, bulky moved beneath them.  Till the surface erupted, and the massive head of a croc-like like creature, bellowing its rage and bloodlust. Its ebon hide was thick and knobby, eyes glaring hotly red, razor sharp teeth, larger than those of the real reptile, whose throat it was going for...

Only the target can see the phantasm.

Cela does not want to fight it from the water, even if she is more skilled up close.  She throws a dart towards the creature.


14:45, Today: Cela rolled 10,4 using d20+5,d4+3.  throw dart.

Not wanting to stop praying to keep the barbarian protected, Sundos readied his crossbow. But the shot was badly aimed.

using

Cela maintained her distance, opting for ranged attacks on the Giant Crocodile that beset their party. She plucked out a dart, hurling the small missile into the water five feet away from the creature’s tail. Changing her own tactics, Lenelle cast a spell that attacked the mind instead of the body. She traced the mystic sigils, conjuring a fearsome illusion that reached even the primitive mind of the crocodile. The crocodile saw a scaled nightmare burst from the river that looked more like a rapacious dinosaur than any swamp-bred crocodile! The Phantasmal Force elicited the fear that Lenelle sought...but also had an effect that she hadn’t anticipated in the making!

Grog acted in concert with the giant-sized Azatch, flanking the crocodile from the rear! As Azatch grappled the lizard’s massive upper body, Grog swung his glaive at the flanks and leg. The thick hide turned the first swing, but Grog dug deep into the leg with his Glaive!

Once again, Simon lashed out with his own brand of Witch-fire, but only singed the crocodile as it splashed into the river and doused the flames as Lenelle’s spell stirred the creature from Grog’s stupor! Sundos fired his crossbow and missed. The fabled “Luck of The Shire” held for Skye, though, as another arrow unerringly struck the crocodile’s head!

However, the multiple attacks on the Giant Crocodile only added to the panic induced by Lenelle. It thrashed blindly as it overcame the power of the Minotaur’s rune! Although Azatch still held the crocodile’s snout, the bloodied beast slammed Grog hard with its tail! (OOC: 13 damage, Grog!)

OOC:


00:48, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 2d8+5.  Damage.
00:48, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 23 using 1d20+8.  Croc tail attack .
00:22, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Grog, rolled 10 using 1d10+3.  Glaive damage .
00:20, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Grog, rolled 16 using 1d20+5.  Attack with Glaive (Advantage).
00:20, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Grog, rolled 14 using 1d20+5.  Attack with Glaive.

The Giant Crocodile is Bloodied now, and looking pretty rough.

Grog, make a Strength check vs, DC 16, or be knocked prone in the river!


This message was last edited by the GM at 04:55, Mon 19 Apr 2021.

Lenelle Toreth rolled 4 using 1d20+2.  Initiative.

Lenelle cursed herself for interfering with Grog's rune magic, as the minotaur was hammered by a tail that was more like a tree trunk.   There was nothing for it.  No choice but to keep going:

She held the illusion --  striving to make certain the croc would consider it the greatest threat, and direct its bite at the phantom, not Azatch, if it should break free.   She was also able to spare enough attention to cast another spell - a number of force-darts flashed from her fingers.

"It's under attack by something much worse than you, in its head!"  Lenelle called out to Azatch.    So he could strategize accordingly.

Ok, I've gone over the rules --  and what they say, is that you may maintain concentration on a previously cast spell, and do anything else you'd normally do in a round, including attack, *except* cast another concentration spell.  And the one I'm casting is not a concentration spell.     

Lenelle Toreth rolled 7 using 2d6.  psychic damage. phantasmal force; from this round + last round
Bonus action - convert 3 sorc points to 2nd level slot
Action - cast MM as 2nd level spell
Lenelle Toreth rolled 12 using 4d4+4.  magic missile.

= 19 points total damage to croc

This message was last edited by the player at 19:00, Mon 19 Apr 2021.

Simon's Swamp Stirrer stirs the swamp.

OOC:
12:36, Today: Simon rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Eldritch Blast.

Cela throws another dart from the shoreline to the creature.


15:56, Today: Cela rolled 20,7 using d20+5,d4+3.

Cela took the time to properly aim her next dart. She hurled the dart into the crocodile’s right eye, half-blinding the tumultuous beast! Lenelle managed the difficult task of maintaining her terrifying illusion while she prepared another spell. Magic Missiles flew with supernatural accuracy, lobbing devastating blasts into the crocodile. Perhaps the trauma of the attacks, combined with the trauma of the illusory super-predator, finally forced the crocodile’s heart to give out. The “Titan of The Vast Swamp” slumped dead in Azatch’s arms, it’s tail falling limply into the water. As if signaling their ordeal’s end, Simon’s Eldritch Blast stirred the river water with a rousing “Victory Ripple”.

The party was safe again...for the moment, as fast they knew...


Combat Ended, Good Job!

Sundos quickly loaded his crossbow again. Then there was silence from the river. The fight had ended. He let out a sigh of relief.

Sundos walked over to Grog and placed is hand on his arms. With a smile and a command to be healed, he cast Cure Wounds and healed Grog 9 hp.

Sundos met Azatch at the water's edge. "Well fought. You did very well!" Then then put his hand on the half orc's arm. "Azatch, warrior, protector, I command you to be healed and call upon Pelor's power and grace. Receive his blessings."

Cast Cure Wounds on Azatch, healed 7 hp.

OOC
15:32, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 7 using 1d8+6.  Heal Azatch.
15:32, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 9 using 1d8+6.  Heal Grog.

Azatch breathes heavily as he comes down from his adrenaline rush and his body reverts to it's normal configuration, but not it's normal size. He nods to gratefully to Sundos, but forstalls any other offers of healing, "That bite looked worse than it was. I'm fine with that bit of healing, thank you." (The damage was halved due to rage, I am now at 34/42, which is plenty).

Azatch drags the beast onto the riverbank to have a look at it.

OOC: How long 'til we get to town?

“HOOO-EEE! You all killed the Giant Croc in less time than it takes a Halfling to piss a thimble of whiskey!” The speaker stepped from the woods, giving a long whistle in admiration for their deed. He looked to be in his early twenties, with dirty blond hair shaved on the sides. The clothes he wore looked simple, the garb of a low-born hunter or fisher. He held a spear in one hand and carried it like someone who had minimal skill in wielding it.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Mon 19 Apr 2021.

In reply to Local Yokel (msg # 218):

Simon looks at Skye and shudders.

Grog will get himself up from the river, and proceed to dragging the croc out of the river.  Once out, he'll offer Sundos a smile and a nod in thanks, then proceed to removing the critter's head, and figure out how to fasten it to his bag where it would be nice and obvious.  The "Local Yokel" will be ignored by Grog in the meantime.

Lenelle could only gape at the sheer size of the corpse, as the minotaur dragged it out of the river.

"I just pray that isn't the baby, so we don't have to face its mother."   She wondered how many more there might be.   For the moment, she didn't want to know, trying to calm down, and slow her still pounding heart.

After Grog cut off the head, Azatch began dragging the croc toward town.

"C'mon. I don't know how long this potion will last, I intend to get this as near to two as possible before it does. Probably be able to sell the skin. And some other bits."

Regardless of whether anyone follows, Azatch starts moving. He figured that nobody would be dumb enough to challenge him, looking the way he did.

OOC: Enlarge will last 1 hour (1d4; rolled 1)

Lenelle glanced toward the barbarian, frowning.   She little liked the idea of having to travel the rest of the way with the croc's now headless cadaver.    But there was no way she was going to say anything.  Not because of his size - but because of what he'd risked.  He'd well earned any profits.

So she began walking too.   Though not behind the corpse. "Thank you for getting me out of there," she said to Azatch.

“Were you all going to Deadwater?” The stranger asked almost excitedly, his eyes fixed on the Half-Orc who currently looked more like a Hill Giant than a humanoid. He watched Azatch drag the giant crocodile as if it were a deer carcass in what the group might wish were mute awe. “I can guide you all there! Really. You’ll need me or they won’t let you through the gate!”
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Tue 20 Apr 2021.

Azatch nods meaningfully to Lennelle.

To the local he says, "Lead."

Sundos smiled at the Local hmm.. man.. "Friend, I would be grateful for your help. Are the gates closed tighter than normal, or do you always need a local friend to enter?

By and by, my name is Sundos. These are my friends and shipmates. We are heading to Deadwater."

The local looked up at Azatch with a wide grin. “You betcha! Follow me, everyone.” He eagerly took the lead, beckoning the party to follow.

When Sundos introduced himself, “Sundos, I’m Joshua, Joshua Redfern.” Joshua offered a friendly handshake. The ha d was calloused and warm, his grip firm. As they walked, he looked over Sundos’ armor. “Your armor is fancier than what we normally see in Deadwater. Except for the Baron. Are you in an army?”

His blue eyes widened. “Are you all part of a military campaign? Are y’all here to conquer Deadwater?! I’m afraid you won’t find much of value there!” As an afterthought, he answered the query posed by Sundos. He nattered on in a regional dialect that could have either been charming or off-putting, depending on the listener’s disposition. “Town’s tighter’n normal lately, what with all the...funny business just outside town. You’ll need me if you wanna get inside, though, yessir, it’d be a shame if you conquered Deadwater and brought your outsider civilized ways to us.

Yessir!”” His tone strongly hinted that such an outcome would be anything but a shame, as he guided them toward Deadwater.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:24, Tue 20 Apr 2021.

"We just need to get some supplies for our ship.  No conquering."  Cela says.  "This time." she adds, to keep his hopes up.

Cela makes sure to retrieve her javelin from the corpse of the croc (the darts are meant to be disposable)
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:46, Tue 20 Apr 2021.

Joshua stared at Cela in slack-jawed fascination. He nodded quietly, mouth agape, as she casually plucked her javelin from a dead giant crocodile. When she strode back, he sputtered, “Uh, yeah, um, we sell lumber and we have a tanner and a tailor. We used to see smaller ships all the time on the river. They’ll come back any day now, business will pick up again...”
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 17:36, Tue 20 Apr 2021.

Lenelle walked in silence, listening as her comrades conversed with Redfern.   She observed and watched him indirectly, looking for anything that might be suspicious.

 Lenelle Toreth rolled 4 using 1d20+3.  Insight.

And he seemed entirely trustworthy, she decided.   Just a nice, local guy trying to help some beleaguered adventurers out.

If anybody wants to sell me property in Deadwater, I'm ready!

"Is it just the reptile problem, or is something else happening in town?"

Cela mostly only cares that the town sounds like they'll have the supplies they need.  Talking with the local (who has apparently never seen a cat-person before) might keep her from having to listen to another one of Simon's stories.

"No, Joshua, I'm no longer in the army. I was once. I served my king. But now I server a higher calling. What 'funny business' is happening outside of town?"

Simon studies the sky, innocently, "You know, I have noticed, some folks, myself for instance, we talk much, but say little. Others...well, others talk little, yet, somehow, say much."

“That Croc tore up the river between here and Deadwater. It scared off the few merchants would still give us the time of day. We been having troubles with ALL kinds of lizards, cuz the Lizardfolk attacked our boys who hunted and cut timber. We barely been able to leave even in the daytime without trouble from them.” Joshua caught Lenelle watching him, and nearly turned crimson from blushing.

Suddenly, he seemed to consider what he said. He shrugged. “Oh, I don’t wanna run you folks off with my gripes and our problems. You’re the first business we’ve gotten from outside in months. The Baron would have me hanged in a gibbet if I ran off visitors. We’d better move if I’m gonna get you there by sundown. They don’t let NOBODY in the gates after dark.”

Changing the subject, Joshua pointed at Sundos’s tunic. “Your higher calling—do you follow Pelor, too?”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:40, Tue 20 Apr 2021.

Was he shy-?  She gave a friendly smile, knowing the more information they could get from him the better.

After Sundos answered about his faith, Lenelle decided to ask Joshua "How religious are these lizard folk?  We killed a shaman.   Is there more than one?   Would they fear us for that?  Or be more likely to seek vengeance?"

"Vengeance."  Grog chipped in.

((OOC: Nothing to contribute post. :P ))

When Lenelle spoke to him, Joshua perked up, head high and chest puffed out. “I don’t know about any shamans, but I know they’ve strayed outside their border to mess with Deadwater.” He stared at Lenelle with a considering eye. “You said ‘We killed a shaman.’ Are you A soldier, too?”

While Joshua bantered with Lenelle, a simple necklace momentarily slipped out from under his shirt. She, Cela, Azatch, and Sundos noticed a crudely carved wooden pendant. The pendant resembled a sun with a benevolent  face in the center. They all recognized it as a symbol of Pelos, a name slowly  becoming more familiar throughout Toril. Most still associated the still nascent Sun God with the more commonly worshiped Lathander, so it surprised them to see a religious icon for this “new” god out on the edges of The Vast Swamp.

“The Lizardmen raiders scared off our hunters, so I gotta admit that I wouldn’t hate if you scared them off for a change...”

Sundos smiled at Joshua, "Brother Joshua, if the lizardmen are a threat to your home, maybe we can help you out."

He looked back at the party, "We are in the area..."

"Does your village have a priest of Pelor? I would love to meet them."

“I would appreciate your helping my people, Brother Sundos.” Joshua’s eyes shined with familiarity, the warmth of shared faith. “We’ll be in Deadwater within an hour or little more. After y’all settle in town, I could take you to meet Sister Mercy.”

"Boy, is Redfern the name given to you at birth from your parentage, or are you adopted into it?"

Though Azatch was embiggened, the carcass he dragged was giant, he grunted under the weight.

“Redfern is my father’s name, and his father before him.”  He stared up at Azatch with a confused frown. “Do Half-Orcs get as big as you, or did your mom, I mean, was one of your parents a Hill Giant...?”

"Only when fighting giant crocs," Azatch said with a wink, "A woman of the name Redfern showed me kindness when I was an orphaned child in Deadwater. Perhaps your grandmother? Or mother. I don't know, humans take forever to become adults, then never seem to change that much until they die, so I get confused about generations."

“Yes. My mother took in what orphans she could, fed ‘em and clothed ‘em. Sometimes took better care of her orphans than she did of her own.” He laughed, but this time it sounded wistful. “Her heart was bigger than her cupboard or her coffers. She really took to the teachings of Sister Mercy when she arrived In Deadwater. Died of the same plague she tended in our village’s sick.”

"I am sorry to hear that. It is a good person who helps orphans, it is an exceptional one who would help a half-orc bastard son of a Deadwater whore." Azatch said matter of factly, without and negative emotion behind the words.

"It takes time to make repairs when we get back with supplies, if you're eager to fight lizardfolk again."

Traill, silent as always, followed unassumingly listening to the human prattle on. She had been near town and knew what he said was right...the town was clamping down on visitors, and the lizard folk were scaring them.

"We can get some good crop meat from it....cooked well and tastes like spiced fowl." The halfling walked with bow in hand.

She looked at cela with a smile. "If you and your captain need an extra bow, I'll willingly come along. This swamp and the lizards are getting on my nerves. maybe a change will be good."

"Usually can use an extra hand.  It's up to the captain, but I'll tell her what you've done for us."

Lenelle listened to the exchange betwixt Azatch and Joshua before speaking again.

"I concur with him," glancing toward the barbarian.  "Your mother sounds like she was quite a woman.  I'm so sorry that you lost her.   And no, I've not been in the army," she assured, leaving him to draw his own conclusions.   She did bear a light crossbow - backup, for when magic wasn't feasible - and a curved dagger rode at one hip.

That the town shared the same faith as Sundos was a good thing.  A foot in the door.

"So, tell us about this Sister Mercy.  Is she your high-priestess?  Did she introduce the Pelorite faith to your community?"   
This message was last edited by the player at 19:41, Wed 21 Apr 2021.

Joshua seemed only to accommodate the exotic beauty who showed an interest in his town. He held back low-standing tree limbs for Lenelle & Cela, as he led them deeper into the swamp. “Well, it happened like this...”

End of Chapter One