In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 230):

Simon looks over at Skye, "Why, thank you."

Skye look at Simon and shakes her head. "Not you....that annoying loud-mouthed halfling....talking before he thinks." She looks outside. "He's got some skills, but damn it all, he's gotta stop talking a bit."

She pauses and looks at Simon. "You tell him I gave him a compliment and I'll string you upside down in the swamp....he doesn't leave me alone as it is."

In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 232):

Simon looks puzzled, "I was referring to you saying I'm as good as holy water actually. But, for the record, I'm better used in melee. Hakim will take a hand then. Usually around the head"

They gathered Azatch and Grog for their mission at Deadwater’s gates. As they walked downstairs, Joshua waved at them. The crowd looked a little thinner then earlier, but still steady. Mostly the town drunkards, the Tiefling barmaid, and a weary Benny. The  voluptuous redhead from earlier kissed Joshua on his cheek. “Good luck,” she said with a wistful pout.

“Thanks, Connie.” He didn’t blush as much as earlier, as if used to the woman or not as moved by her. He broke away from her clingy embrace and greeted the party. “I’m on watch tonight. I’ll walk you there.”

Traill, armed and armoured, nodded and followed the man to the wall, a focused look on her face

Grog did all the prep work he intended to, had his nap, and woke up as he usually did.  As the group left, Grog joined.  He kept quiet, held a serious expression, and payed attention as they left the inn.  The various sounds seaming quite a bit more important to him now rather then after several hours of walking through swamp the previous day.

Lenelle gave the tiefling a sidelong and narrow eyed glance.    Indirectly, with a slight frown that was gone just as quick.    As the others, she followed Joshua out to the wall.

"What can we expect of them?" she voiced.  "Will they try and scale the wall?   Do they have any means to attack at range?" 

"Greetings, Everybody. I have some flasks of Holy Water if any of you want it.  I have enough for each crew member to have a flask." He walked around the group offering a flask to Azatch, Cela, Grog, Lenelle, Simon and Skye. He kept one for himself.

"Has anybody seen Mercion? I thought she would meet us here."




OOC:Holy Water
As an action, you can splash the contents of this flask onto a creature within 5 feet of you or throw it up to 20 feet, shattering it on impact. In either case, make a ranged Attack against a target creature, treating the holy water as an Improvised Weapon. If the target is a fiend or Undead, it takes 2d6 radiant damage.

Simon declines. He has fire.

Cela will happily take an extra Holy Water should there be one available.

The party assembled near the town gates, where they saw four men stationed at points along the crude wooden wall. A row of torches illuminated the platform that stood atop wooden scaffolding. Grog noticed a few places where something had broken through. The holes were patched and reinforced with timber.

Sundos saw Mercion standing six feet east of the gate. Head bowed, she appeared to be praying to Pelor. A subtle nimbus of light enfolded her. Joshua and Pockets stared up at her. The former watched in awe, the latter looked concerned for a friend preparing for danger.

Sundos didn't give any holy water to Simon. He didn't say anything about Simon's refusal and kept his face blank. But he did smile at Cela as he gave her two flasks. "Pelor's smile will shine upon us tonight."

Once all the flasks have been handed out, quietly told Joshua, "Stay towards the back. We don't want to give Connie any reason to be sad." he then handed Joshua his flask of holy water. "Splash the undead with this holy water or throw it at them."

He smiled at everybody then went to stand near Mercion as she prayed.

The torches and Mercion provided the sole sources of light on a dismal night. A dark night sky loomed overhead, obscured by clouds. Azatch & Traill knew it was the New Moon. Even in the middle of the night, the air felt sticky and oppressive. “Damnation! It’s muggy out here. It’s like Tiamat has thrown a wet dragon wing over us!” Georg fussed as he took a position near Joshua.

Everyone felt the tension. The time of the night drew upon the 3 o’clock hour. Occasionally, superstitious folk described this particular hour as “The Witching Hour”. Nearby, the night watch shuffled nervously as the party (and Joshua) clutched vials of holy water. A few watched Mercion finish her whispered prayers.

Then, three o’clock arrived.

OOC:

Roll Perception checks.

Cela stands on top of the wall, reaching her arms to test her ability to climb it.  She looks out into the swamp.

16:27, Today: Cela rolled 15 using 1d20+4.  perception.

Simon fiddles with his ring as he looks out past the gates.

OOC:
13:34, Today: Simon rolled 19 using 1d20+4.  perception.

Skye, preoccupied with the chanting, certainly bringing her gaze back to the cleric, a look of frustration on her face.

<OOC: Skye Keenshadow rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  Perception check.


Damn!>

Sundos looked out over the swamp with the others.


OOC:
15:46, Today: Sundos Brightblood rolled 10 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

Lenelle was unclear why her question had been ignored.  It would've helped to know. Well, no matter...

She'd at first been minded to decline the holy water, sufficiently armed already. Like Simon, she had fire to resort to, even after more potent magics had been spent.    But she recollected something about the water being able to prevent the slain from rising as undead.  And accepted the offered vial from Sundos with a "Thank you."

Standing at the wall, there was a solemness on her that was not her norm.    It would have been a lie to say that she felt no fear.   The animate-dead were among the most gruesome of foes.   However, she'd been imbued at birth with the opposite of such unhallowed power.   She felt it within her, now - more acutely aware of it then she had ever been.

Her gaze took in the terrain, knowing well it was only a matter of time...

Lenelle Toreth rolled 19 using 1d20+3. perception

Outside the gates, fog wafted over the ground. Sundos could barely see the forest for the mist drifting from it. The air cooled noticeably with the coming of the fog. Cela, Lenelle, & Simon heard a baying, and then a flurry of movement from the swamp. They heard the flutter of wings as birds rushed from the treetops into the air! A doe and her fawns ran manically from the woods, followed by a score of rats and an opossum! The smaller creatures ran at the wall, scurrying as they dug through tiny spaces in the wall, trying to get through. The three adventurers—plus Azatch—quickly noticed that they couldn’t hear any further sounds of swamp life after the flight they’d witnessed. The constant nocturnal serenade of the swamp was conspicuously absent.

Grog and Traill missed the commotion down below, as they watched Mercion glow in quiet prayer. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open!

Mercion’s eyes snapped open. She dashed toward the wall, her eyes frantically sweeping the ground. The Priestess of Pelor clutched the handle of the mace that hung at her hip. “I sense Evil!”

Simon nods, "Yep, unnatural fog moving with a purpose usually means Evil to me, too. My question: Is the fog some sort of giant elemental, or just being controlled by something else? Something that can see where it's going, hence close, or burning off a LOT of magic to see it's edges from afar. Either way, I wouldn't let it touch you. Magical water around here tends to have odd effects on folks."

Mercion stared incredulously at Simon. “Don’t be such a cynical fool! The Well has nothing to do with that fog! The Evil...!” Before she could finish, the Cleric stared at Simon in wide-eyed surprise as she lost her balance, teetering on the wall!

“Mercy!” Joshua grabbed for Mercion, trying to help her right herself...

...then, Joshua gave a frightened yelp, as he shoved Mercion away from the wall, but tripped, and tumbled over the side! Joshua screamed as he fell, landing with a loud *SNAP* of bone! Pelor watched over the young man, and he landed on his arm, instead of his neck. Joshua groaned as he weekly scrambled to his feet. The way his arm dangled uselessly confirmed that he broke it in the fall.

Joshua tried to yell for help from the watch, but could only cry out in sharp pain. He looked up helplessly at our heroes on their perch, and then at the forest. A strangled scream escaped his throat as he limped back toward the gate. Everyone present heard guttural moans from the heart of the fog. They staggered forth, cold gray skin mottled with rot, their vacant eyes somehow fixed on Joshua. The ghouls shuffled toward Joshua, slobber dripping from slavering jaws as they closed in on their prey...

End of Chapter 2!