“Sister Mercion arrived over a year ago with a small band of adventurers from faraway. She traveled with a Paladin, an Elf, a Dwarf Fighter, a Female Fighter, a Halfling, and a powerful old Wizard. They slew a Dragon that threatened to poison the entire swamp. After that, the rest of the heroes moved on, except for Mercion and the Halfling. She said she had a vision from Pelor telling her that she needed to stay and guard our well.

That’s when she started her ministry for Pelor. One of the good deeds she’s done is help hold back the plague that keeps hitting our town. We nicknamed her ‘Mercy’ because more of my people would have died if not for her. No lie, that alone won a few new converts to Pelos, including me.” His fingertips held up his symbol of the loving Sun God.

Simon looks thoughtful, "So, what you are saying is that the whole time she's been here a plague keeps popping up that only she can cure? And she has a fascination with your well?"

Joshua shook his head. “If you’re trying to say she caused the plague, you’re dead wrong, sir. Yellow Jack has killed people in my town long before Sister Mercy showed up. She’s one of the only reasons the whole town didn’t die off, her & Old Sheila.” His blue eyes fixed Simon in narrowed slits. “I won’t hear you talk trash about Mercy. I don’t care if you are some fancy adventurers, I won’t put up with it.”

In reply to Joshua Redfern (msg # 3):

Simon looks at Redfern, "Never put words in someone's mouth. It can lead to all sorts of misunderstandings. Has it occurred to you that the Well might be infected and she might be purifying it? Or, I suppose, any of a number of things, including the fact that the two are unrelated, o, possibly, that the source of her cure requires the well. I simply asked if I understood you right on 3 points:

"You are being repeatedly beset by a plague.

"This woman is about the only healer you have that has managed to control the plague.

"She has a fascination of some sort with your town Well.

"Is this not what you have said? No conclusions drawn, well, not by ME, at least, but a mere re-statement of the facts to be sure I have them clearly?

"Although...YOU seem to have considered the possibility she might be involved in the spread, somehow, as fast as the though came to your mind. I suppose we should consider that, as well, now. Interesting thought that Why do you think so?"

"You'll have to forgive Simon, Joshua."  Cela glares at Simon.

They have two minutes of a story told by someone who probably can't even read.  This kid is probably just trying to impress either Lenelle or Cela with exaggerations.  Now is not the time to throw out accusations, and they need to get into the gates.  If there's something to the theory, they can talk about it in private at the inn, or have Sundos talk to the priestess.

"He spent too much time with no one to talk to except his imaginary friend, and he gets these fanciful ideas."

Now furious, their guide glared at Simon. “Who’s putting words in people’s mouths?! You’re just trying to...hey, y’all.” Cela’s gentle words cooled his temper. He looked at her, Azatch and Lenelle. “You might wanna make sure your buddy watches his mouth while he’s in town. Not everyone will tolerate his kind of games.”

Then, Joshua quickened his steps ahead of the party. He walked alongside Cela, but couldn’t look at Simon without muttering a colorful curse word. Jaw clenched, he suddenly wasn’t as chatty as he’d been earlier.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:59, Wed 21 Apr 2021.

Traill couldn't help but smirk at the fact that Simon put his foot in it. When they first met, he spoke similar towards herself, even calling her 'shortstuff'. Hadbit been the past she would have hamstringed tbe fool and let the snakes take him.

....but she knew the group needed her and much er them.

Still, this human spoke before he thought. She looked at Joshua. "I've known him a day and came to the same conclusion." She looked at the man with a hard edge in her gaze. "Sometimes it's wiser to hold your tongue and think before you speak....or someone will cut it out."

She smirked but kept walking but spoke to Joshua. was the place here before the dragon, or after?"

Joshua nodded in agreement with Skye’s advice. “That’s right. Deadwater was founded by mercs and pirates who haven’t entirely forgotten where they came from. They may not make trouble on the sea nowadays, but they don’t mean they won’t get into some.” He watched Skye with a curious eye. “Deadwater was first. The dragon was in recent years...and I’m still convinced that it was the start of all our troubles.”

"Please understand," soothed Lenelle, "the bunch of us were thrown together by chance, just a short time ago.   We're hardly a proper company, let alone like minded friends.  Though I've come to regard the courage of all these people, Simon included.  Please don't be too offended.  The last day has been a very stressful one for all of us."

After he had answered Skye's question, she asked: "And what of this well, Joshua?  What is special about it? Aside from Priestess Mercion's vision, is there any other reason it would be important?  Does it have any significant history?"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:12, Wed 21 Apr 2021.

Azatch liked Simon, he was like the hot spice in food that enlivened it, but also somehow made it safer to eat without getting sick. Sharp, but helpful.

"Simon likes to make people think. Most people don't like to think," Azatch said as if that should explain everything and settle everyone down. "When someone builds a house, they don't want to hear that it might not keep out the rain."

Azatch looks to Simon as if to say, "Am I doing this story thing right?"

"It is true though, disease is a constant visitor to those who live in the swamp."

To the boys words he says, "It may explain the increased activity from the lizardfolk. Maybe revenge. Maybe there was a wyrmling that they now foster and seek more food and treasure for their new god."

OOC:

Before I answer your questions, give me a History check, Azatch.

You’ll get Advantage.

Skye can make one without Advantage, too.

 

History (w/ adv): 11

<OOC: Skye Keenshadow rolled 20 using 1d20.  History check....natural 20!>

Azatch remembered that his hometown boasted one of the inexplicably purest wells of water for a hundred miles around. “Yes, Lady Lenelle. The well is blessed. We draw the purest water from it, when pure water can’t be found for at least a day's journey inland. You’ll never drink a cooler drought of water in your life...!” A knowing smile curled the corners of Skye’s mouth.


Joshua misunderstood Skye’s smile, and grinned back. “Yep. Cleanest drink of water you’ll ever have! The founders named the town ‘Deadwater’ as an ironic joke. Maybe to well a secret from the wrong people, too.”

Traill smiled at the tale of Joshua. "I've heaard the tale....a few years ago, but it stuck with me. Some years ago a ship crashed here in a storm - ironically one not unlike what you discribed. The people fought disease, animals, even the lizardfolk tribe. They fought well, but they were besieged by a demon plant."

"the tale goes that one of their party prayed to the mother of water to help them, offering his magic and his life. The man struck the plant, killing it, but his enchanted weapon and life was taken."

She sighed, looking at Joshua with a smile. "His friends took the blade and tossed it in the well....now it's clean, pure and blessed by Eldath, so they say."

The group listened to Skye’s storytelling, but the next hour didn’t pass so pleasantly. The trail took them through a quarter mile of low tide marsh. Mud caked on their boots and paws. Mosquitoes assailed them as they passed through a thick growth of swamp trees, vines, and long strands of moss. Once again, they nearly lost the sun as they ventured south.

Luckily, they discovered the river in the second hour. They walked along the bank with no incident, no encounters with beasts or hostile demihumans. Just as what they could still see of the sun started dipping low in the sky, they saw a wooden barricade that loomed  early eighteen feet tall. Wooden gates barred the trail, and they noticed that the barricade ran up along a bluff. Joshua waved them toward the gate. “We’re here. Welcome to a Deadwater.”

Sundos didn't like the jungle. He was more comfortable in the forest or fields. The jungle was so alien to him. His hair was wet from sweat.

"Praise be to Pelor we made it with safely."  he looked at the gate. "Hmm.. Brother, how do we get in?"

Lenelle had listened, as Skye provided a more in depth accounting of the Deadwater well's history and nature.   Religious events and matters usually rang like a note of discord within her, and this was no exception.

There was just a single faith where she'd come from; a particularly strict sect of the defender/enforcer god, Helm, who was known to her people as Helmos.  Her experience with religion through that sect hadn't been positive, to say it lightly.

And yet, on the other hand, she was empowered by the divine -- a god or other entity she still didn't know by name. But could feel, when she wasn't striving to occlude the relationship.  As the priests of her home had ordered she must, if she valued her soul. And of course the church's goodwill.

She didn't know Eldath, but wanted to believe such a kindly entity existed. And that a caring and brave man's sacrifice had really meant something...

She gazed upward at the crude barricade.  Deadwater was nowhere; a little shanty town in the midst of vile swampland.     But she couldn't shake off a sense of significance, of fate, as she stood at its threshold.

"Just Lenelle, not Lady," she apprised Joshua, waiting to hear how Brother Sundos would be answered.

Joshua hailed the gatekeeper. “Georg! Open the gate!”

A stocky man with long, auburn hair and a reddish beard peered through a slit. “Joshua Redfern, you’re cutting it close, boy! Who are the strangers you brought back?”

“They’re shipwrecked and looking to buy goods!” Joshua swept an arm to show off the party’s magnificent kill. “The biggun’s from here! They killed the Giant Croc and one of the Lizardman raiders that hassled our trappers! Stop farting around and let us in already! It’s almost sundown, and we made in time for your damned curfew!”

Georg’s eyes swept toward Azatch and the enormous crocodile. “Sweet Umberlee’s tits!” Still, he held his ground and didn’t open the gate. He peered toward Sundos, who looked the most official in his armor. “Josh is a naive lad, too easily impressed by any traveler with a grand tale and a few deeds. What’s your business in Deadwater?”
This message was lightly edited by the GM at 21:33, Thu 22 Apr 2021.

Cela yells up to the gatekeeper.  "Like Joshua said, we're here to buy some supplies for our ship.  Lumber, canvas, pitch, tools, rope.  Animal to carry it back on.  And a place to stay tonight."

“Looks like you’ve already got an ox,” Georg said with a chuckle, jabbing a finger through the slit in Grog’s direction. Everyone heard a hushed reprimand behind the gate. “Alright, Laredon! I was just having a little jest.”

The wooden gates unlocked and swung inward. Georg and a burlier older man hustled everyone through. The older shoved the gate closed with help from Joshua. He wiped sweat from his brow and off his bald head. “I’m Laredon Van Dee. If you good folks can pardon Georg for confusing a Minotaur for an ox, I’ll try to find it in my heart to pardon him for acting like a horse’s ass instead of a city watchman.”

He waved them along, as the party saw what was indeed a shantytown, except for a few promising wooden buildings. A deck with mildewed boards ran alongside the river bank toward a large dock. Past the dock, they saw a row of seven shacks leading toward a sprawling two-story building lit from within, and full of music and laughter. “That’s the Sulphur’s Spit. If you need a room, talk to Benny, and he’ll set you up.”

Laredon added with a grin, “When you’ve rested from your travelin’, you’ll wanna come see me about lumber for your ship. I’m the woodworker and lumber supplier, when I’m not posted at the town gate..”

Traill walked in silently, looking around, and saw the Sulphur's spit, with a smile. "A night not sleeping in the swamp will be nice...as well as a warm meal" she muttered

As soon as Skye said so, they could all smell the aroma of fried seafood wafting enticingly on the dusk breeze.

Sundos was about to answer the gatekeeper when Cela spoke up. He kept quiet with nothing to add.

However, once they were inside the walls, he felt he must perform a duty before taking care of himself. He mumbled to himself, "Sulpher's Spit... Benny..right."

Then he asked the Deadwaterians(?), village people, Laredon, Georg and Joshua, "Do you know where I can find 'Sister Mercy' at this time of day?"

Lenelle breathed a faint sigh of relief as they were admitted.   Being turned away, having to go back, would've been awful.  Beyond awful.  She wanted to be clean again, even more so than getting a meal, growling stomach notwithstanding.

Walking near Grog, she smiled and said "Where I come from, there's a beloved fable about an ox.  They are noble animals; hard workers, intelligent and reliable, and never demanding praise.  I say it's no insult." 

She glanced then toward Sundos. He had requested an audience with Sister Mercion.   Doubtless, much would be learned in meeting her...

“Sister Mercy should be in the temple. If we hurry, we might catch her before she makes her evening rounds among the sick. If any of you suffered any wounds, she could heal you. Follow me.” Joshua led the members of the party who joined him up steep steps of granite, climbing up to the top of the bluff.

When they reached the top of the steps, they saw a fortress made of tabby that overlooked the river. Beyond the fort stood a temple of white-washed stucco that stretched wide like loving arms. A courtyard led into the temple itself, and many stained glass windows invited ample sunlight in for the faithful of Pelor.

"Go ahead and talk to the priestess, I'll get us set up at the inn?  I want to get the swamp washed out as soon as I can."

Sundos nodded to Cela. "Sure. I will catch up later. If anybody else wants to go to the inn, I will catch up later. There might be healing here for those that need it."

"It's a beautiful temple, Joshua. I'm excited to meet Sister Mercy."

Azatch drags the croc to the... Butcher?

OOC: Azatch sees to the processing of the carcass, whatever that entails. I didn't really have a plan.

Once the croc is in good hands, he meets Cela at the inn for a warm bath.

OOC: I think technically the potion would have worn off at some point, but *hand wave caddabrave*

Grog will smirk a bit, standing a touch straighter.

With a nod Grog add in: "Father agrees.  Also vapid."

Grog would join Azatch to the market area, willing to offer his aid for a favor.  And should a chance arise, see about selling off his group's collective of trophies.

Once he'd done what he could, he'd take a stroll through the town.

She would've liked to have cleaned herself up before meeting any significant personage of the town.   Yet this was the chance to hear firsthand what this priestess could tell them, before she became busy with her ministering.

And so she too went to the temple.

Though its aesthetics were pleasant, temples were not comfortable places for Lenelle. She would never forget the duress, the enforced isolation, and other things.  She waited for Sundos and Joshua to enter first, then trailed them inside.

Simon follows along to the temple, magically cleaning himself and his gear off as he goes.

OOC:
Prestidigitation is a wonderful cantrip.

Joshua led Sundos, Lenelle, & Simon into the temple. The courtyard led to a sanctuary with a convex entrance. Holding the door open, Joshua invited the trio inside, his manner noticeably changed from earlier boisterousness to reverential. When they were all inside, he closed the door. Like the exterior, the sanctuary was a pale white and laid in a circular design so as to surround the altar. A circular stained glass window allowed light to pour onto the altar.

As they approached the altar, Joshua knelt and bowed his head. With his right hand, he drew a circle over his heart in a clockwise motion. The threesome heard his whispered prayer: “I am merciful, just as the Sun of Mercy shines on me.”

Ahead of them, a slim figure in a yellow and white robe knelt at the altar. She knelt at the opposite side, head bowed. All they could see were wavy blonde locks spilling from her hood, partially obscuring her face. Until she heard Joshua, and stood from her own prayers. The woman was young, probably in her mid to late twenties. She was pretty in an unassuming way, her face made prettier when she smiled upon seeing Joshua and new visitors. “In the Sun Father’s Hand,” she said to Joshua.

“In the Sun Father’s Hand,” he said in practiced reply, the blush that Lenelle saw earlier flushing his cheeks again.

“Welcome to the House of Light,” she said to her visitors with a smile as warm as the sun she worshipped. “I am Sister Mercion. How may I help you?”

Meanwhile...

Laredon introduced Azatch to the local butchers, Harry & Cloteel. They shouted at the sight of the conquered crocodile, Azatch couldn't decide whether they shouted from joy or anxiety over the pending amount of work.

OOC: What do you say, Azatch?

Cela entered The Sulphur’s Spit, assailed in the best way by the smell of fried shrimp and crawdads! She saw a barmaid wending through a thick crowd with frothy mugs of ale. A Bard played a mediocre rendition of “Vajra’s Deed” to the jeers of the tables nearby. At the left side of the sprawling tavern were gambling tables, where players cheered (or groaned) at the outcomes of various games of chance. Seventy five ahead was a bar, where a tall, lanky middle-aged man with short brown curls tended his customers. The authority with which he barked orders at the barmaid implied that he might be Benny.

Grog meandered to the Inn, making a leisurely-but-well-paced sweep between the gate and the inn. He noticed that the city watch seemed to operate on a volunteer basis. He overheard talk of “The Baron” needing to hire a proper watch so they didn’t need to pull those dangerous night watches. “We’re only fishers and hunters, we’re not trained to fend off the undead...!”

Along the way, he saw a frail little girl with long dark hair in an eggshell colored dress. She played with a slightly taller girl her age, with gorgeous red hair. The two sang a nursery rhyme as they danced in a circle, but Grog couldn’t make it out because of either the surrounding noise in the street or lack of interest. A woman with dark hair and a pinched, careworn face hollered at the dark-haired girl from a nearby shack, shooing her inside.

Soon, Grog caught up with Cela, who was still assessing the tavern when he arrived.



OOC:  Skye, let me know what you did and I’ll work you in.

Cela looks around the tavern, mostly smelling the food and checking out the townsfolk.
 Were they all human?  Joshua had seemed like he'd never seen tabaxi o even a half-life before.

Azatch walks in just as Cela finishes scoping things out and heads to the bar to talk to 'Benny.'  "Hey."  She says to try to get his attention.  "Are you Benny?

My group needs a place to stay tonight.  How much for room & board?"

“Yes, I’m Benny. This is my inn and tavern.” He smiled at Cela, appearing curious, but unbothered by seeing a Tabaxi. “A Tabaxi traveler. I haven’t seen one of your people since I left Waterdeep oh, nearly forty years ago!” Cela noticed there was indeed a lack of Tabaxi presence. She saw mostly humans, almost  a dozen halflings, three half-orcs, and one of the barmaids was a Tiefling woman.

“Rooms are 5 silver a day.” His smile deepened into a sales pitch. “Unless you planned staying longer. You could board here for 7 gold per week, one meal a day included.”

Back at the temple, Sundos entered and removed his helmet.

Sundos briefly knelt at the alter and made his reverences.

He smiled at the woman. "May the Blessings Shine upon you. I am Sundos Brightblood, and these is my friends, Lenelle and Simon. Please excuse our dirty appearance. We just arrived to town. Our ship was ship wrecked in the last storm. Some members of our crew and we were coming to Deadwater from some supplies. We can gotten a little ..confused.. of where Deadwater is. Brother Joshua found us and brought us here. He told us about you and the beautiful temple. I have never seen a Temple of Light that was so big. I have usually just seen small shrines and alters in my travels.

"I had wanted to come and meet you to offer my respect to the Lord of Light and Life. After a get cleaned up at the inn, may I return and spend some time enjoying the peace here?"

In reply to Sundos Brightblood (msg # 37):

Simon looks down at his freshly cleaned and pressed clothing and shrugs.

Mercion’s smile brightened when she saw the symbol of Pelor that Sundos wore. “May the Light shine upon you, Brother!” She clasped his hands in greeting, not the least bit concerned about dirt. “I am pleased to see another Servant of The Light!” His compliments for the temple got a soft chuckle. “I claim no credit for the size of the temple. The people here hunger for a god who understands their needs. They helped me build a temple that would allow best to celebrate Him here, even though many like Brother Joshua know that they can commune with Him anywhere.”

After she greeted Sundos, everyone was able to better get a sense of the woman. Mercion stood 5 feet and nine inches tall, slender like one who toiled earnestly every day in the community for her faith, and likely fasted frequently for it. Like Sundos, a sun with a face in the center adorned her robe. She considered his tale, then greeted Lenelle & Simon. “Welcome to the House Of Light. May the favor of Pelor shine upon you, as well!”

Afterward, Mercion beckoned the group to walk with her. “Brother Sundos, you and yours are welcome to return here during your visit.” She led them out back through an arched door. The door led back outside to a smaller courtyard, one more intimate. Underfoot was a mosaic lovingly depicting an older man with flowing golden hair and bead. Sundos immediately recognized the artistic representation of Pelor, the Sun Father.

A small garden of jasmine and gardenias accentuated a marbled path that led to a wide well. Mercion led them to the well’s edge. “If any in your party suffered injury, bring them here and I will minister to their healing.” She lowered a bucket into the well and cranked it back up. She dipped a ladle into the bucket and offered it to her visitors. “Please, drink. Let the waters blessed by the Sister-Goddess of Pelor quench your thirst and bring you peace.”

"Almost that long since I've seen another Tabaxi myself."  Cela says.

The budget for food and 'bribes' was only four gold.  They could easily spend twice that at the inn tonight if they weren't careful.

"A week is too long, we'll be on our way tomorrow 'less our cleric has more business with the temple.

There's seven from my ship.  I think two rooms should do.  Me, those two," she points to Azatch and Grog. "and four others that are paying their respects at the temple.  A halfling, elf, and two humans."  Lenelle was closer to an elf than most of these people had seen, simpler to tell it this way.

"How much for dinner for us?  Or should I tell them we're eating croc?"

With a hefty thump, Grog took up a seat near Georg, looking in the general direction of the closest menu.  Without altering his gaze, he speaks out a bit, but not particularly loud.  "Leave when supplied.  Could make faster."

Should Grog feel the eyes of a particular (unnamed) complainer linger upon him, he'd tilt his head a couple times in Cela's direction.

((OOC: Random!?!))

“Three silver for a decent meal. You’ll get a bowl of stew, bread, cheese, and a mug of ale. For four, I’ll add your choice of shrimp or crawdads. Five silver gets you the ‘Seafood Medley’.” While Cela & Grog pondered their options, Benny wiped the counter with his cleaning rag. “What brings your party to Deadwater, Miss? I saw no ship in our dock. Surely you didn’t march all the way here from the beach?”
This message was last edited by the player at 22:46, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

Lenelle too had knelt before the altar.   She had spent so much of her life performing such gestures that it was almost reflexive.   Her initial impulse had been to copy what Joshua had done.   But it would be dishonesty; of a sort she had practiced far too often.

"May the light be clear and revealing, and send hence the darkness," she whispered instead - a quotation from a favorite fable.   She'd inclined her head respectfully, once Mercion had offered Pelor's blessing.

She was quiet while Sundos did the speaking, one cleric to another, and then walked the marble path with the others.   After the foulness of the swamp, the scent of the blossoms was most welcome.   In what was now almost like someone else's life, she'd owned perfumes scented with both jasmine and gardenia...

Once the water was offered, Lenelle did not move to take it.   Instead, she inquired softly but clearly:

"And what of this man?  The one who gave his life to end the demon-plant.  Whose blade was said to have been tossed into the well. Is that true?"   
This message was last edited by the player at 23:47, Fri 23 Apr 2021.

“Then you’ve heard the tale of this well.” Mercion nodded solemnly. “Yes. Tiriel Yorelin bravely sacrificed his life that his friends and their families might live. Sweet Eldrath felt moved to honor his sacrifice by blessing this very well, which offers water ever pure and often curative.

It is a generous goddess who would share sacred space with another deity. For what she’s done, we bless her name here, too.”

Again, Mercion held out the ladle. “Would any of you care to drink? Let the waters of this holy well heal any wounds and wash away any sorrows of your day.”

Lenelle nodded at the answer, then hesitated.   If another(s) was more immediately inclined to accept (Sundos?) she waited while they drank.   But she'd made up her mind, and she too excepted the ladle, and drank of the well's waters...

Azatch explains that he would like the croc butchered and as much as the meat as possible dried for field rations, and for the rest to be prepared as fresh packed meat to be distributed to the needy families and whoever takes care of orphans.

And to separate out any valuable/salable, and to bleach/boil the fangs etc.

Azatch would prefer to pay in kind, meaning a portion of the meat that the butchers can sell to cover the cost. If that is not possible, or only partially possible, to bill him.

He is willing to do some heavy chopping for awhile to help out with a lot of the grunt work. (He has a battle axe, or whatever large cleaver they have).

“Whew. We’ll be busy cleaning this carcass.” Harry looked the crocodile’s body over. Then, his wife, Cloteel, interjected. “Azatch lived with Adele Redfern...and you’re still here because of her herbalist skill. She’s not. Maybe helping this young man would be a proper way to honor Adele?”

Harry rubbed his chin, then nodded slowly. “A good point, Clo. We could do a lot of good for some families, and if Azatch let us take a cut of any sales...well, I think we could work out a deal.”

Clo clapped her hands together. “It’s settled, then! Harry will clean the Croc. We can give you 70% of the beast’s hide, or 100 gold now. I’ll give you the pick of the fiercest fangs and claws. Let us keep the rest. There’s a tanner who will work wonders with what we sell!

I’ll make sure you have enough rations to tide you for a short season. We'll sell the rest to The Sulphur’s Spit or donate to a few hungry folks. Does that sound fair to you, lad?”

<OOC: seems I was lost in the throng of people.>

The small hunter halfling followed into the inn behind grog and Celia, her dark green cloak around her and went to Benny, reaching into her pouch and pulled out 4 silver for a meal. “When your ready, give me a meal with the shrimp. I’ll sit with them.” Indicating Cena.

She then goes to the table with grog and sits, making no indication of hiding the fact of looking at him. “You fought well. That croc was the biggest I’ve seen, even in these parts.”

"We were caught in the storm and had to put in for repairs. The walk was awful through the swamp.  Maybe Grog liked it, but I doubt anyone else did.

I'm going to the room to get cleaned up and wait for the others before I eat."

((OOC: Possibly Grog as well.  His antics are easy to overlook with lengthy posts.))

Grog will sit up straight in the chair, shifting his focus (and body) to the new conversation.  "Lizards new.  Undead soon."

Cela was given a key, but not before Benny pointed out her table. “We’ll hold your plate at that table.” He pointed at a large table near the fireplace and the Bard of Mediocrity. To Grog, he said, “And what about you, friend? Would you care for a pitcher of ale and some of the best seafood outside the Sword Coast?”



Benny happily accepted Skye’s gold. “Certainly, little lady!” He yelled back to the Tiefling. “Bathsheba! One shrimp dinner for the little lady at the Tabaxi’s table!”



Before Skye could pull out her chair, though...

“HEY! Hey, Hey, HEY! Whattaya think ya doin’?! That’s MY chair!” A Halfling male with light brown hair and a jewel-toned shirt over leather armor protested, ready to settle his complaint with fists. Then, he saw Skye from the front. “Oh.”

“Beggin’ ya pardon, Lady.” His manner softened, and he gave a chivalrous bow.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:43, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

The halfling looked at him with a neutral look. Trail was still somewhat dirty from the road, and didn’t care. She looked at him, and just sat down. “I’m no lady.” She muttered, sitting down

“Beggin’ ya pardon again, but I know a lady when I see one. Whether you came from a palace or the woodlands, yer too pretty not to be respected and treated as such.” With a wink, he gave another bow. “If ya like, could I join you and ya friend, and buy ya drinks to make up fer my bad manners?”

Trail looked at the man and shrugged. “You can sit here if you like...if the others don’t mind. As for mistreated, I’ve had worse. No offence was taken....I don’t know you. If you want to buy a round, my large friend here could use a drink.” Indicating grog

To the butchers:

Azatch nods and says, "Whatever you think is the right thing. The Redfern boy said this croc has been terrorizing the area, time for it to give back."

OOC: I just remembered that Grog took the head, so let's make sure everything is according to what he prefers as far as fangs, but claws, hide, etc I can speak for.

Grog will nod to the suggestion.  "Ale."

After watching the small man make a fool of himself, Grog leans forward to Skye with curious expression. "Oh?  What title?"  Grog clearly stopped acknowledging rhe other person, for now at least.

((EDIT: New posts! GOTTA FIX! (Barely.) ))
((EDIT 2: I am OK assuming the head was accounted for in that deal.  It was brought to be sold, after all.))
This message was last edited by the player at 03:02, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

“Welcome to Deadwater, my Lady.” The Halfling pulled up a chair only after Skye sat. “My friends call me ‘Pockets’. I think hearing about you and her friend will be more entertainin’ than listenin’ to that poor excuse for a Bahd.”

Pockets hopped onto his seat and waved at Benny. “HEY! Hey, Hey, HEY, Benny! Have one’a the girls bring a round’a best brew for my new friends!” Then, Pockets dropped into a sitting position smoothly. “Tell me all about ya selves. I like a good travel story!”

OOC: We’ll say that Grog hastily dropped off the head on his brief walkabout. Let me know in PM if there are any preferences for harvested parts.

OOC: Charisma check, please. Hometown Advantage.

Grog will roll his eyes at Pockets insistence to be involved, but not push him away. With a few short nods, he says in a surprisingly 'matter-of-fact' tone.  "Many words, many problems."

Despite only knowing them a short time, she liked Grog. A being of few words and too the point, she respected that. She looked at the halfling, her eyes still neutral. “Been tracking a band of lizard folk, got chased, found these guys, killed a giant croc. Best fun I’ve had in years.”

It’s hard to tell from her tone if she was serious or being sarcastic, but she looked at pockets and shrugged, folding her arms in front of herself on the table. “I like him...” She said nodding her head towards grog. “...man of few words.”

Charisma Check: 11 (incidentally, same as my CHA score, pretty on point)

Harry & Clo nodded. “Sounds like a fair deal, Azatch! We’ll pay you a hundred gold for what you don’t take. The profit from what we sell will cover the expenses for cleaning and curing your meat.” Harry paused before paying up. “Oh. Do you want your meat dried, brined, or smoked?”

Back at the inn, Pockets nodded in ready agreement with Skye. “Yeah. You can tell a hard-traveling hero by how little he talks. Yessir! Ya boy Grog says little, but his lack of big words must be proportionate to his big heroism!”

The Halfling stared impatiently at the bar. “Benny nevah gets the lead out of his ass! I’ll get our first round myself. Benny knows me, he knows I’m good for the money and just as good at bahtending!”

Pockets hopped from his chair, bumping into Georg and a buddy as they passed by Grog. Grog felt the awkward human traffic jam behind him, as the trio nudged him as they tried to get around one another. “Excuse me, pahdon me, get outta my way!”

A minute later, Pockets returned balancing a tray loaded with ale mugs. “I’m back! Got one for the cat lady, too!” He set down the tray with a grunt and a grin.

From the bar, they heard Benny yell. “POCKETS!” Seconds later, Bathsheba the Tiefling arrived bearing a plate of fried shrimp and bread for Skye.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:53, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

Meanwhile, back at the Temple



"Thank you." With a glance to his friends, Sundos took a drink from the offered ladle. Sundos had never tasted water so pure and cool before. He looked up at the Sister, "This well has truly been blessed."


OOC Unless of course, Simon is right and Sundos falls over dead.

Azatch indicates that he wants whatever is quickest.

Grog chose to ignore traffic jam behind him.

In the very brief gap Pockets is gone, Grog chuckles with a quip.  "Small Simon."

After the ale arrived, Grog took his and enjoyed an initial sip shortly after the Bathsheba started serving food.  He'd drink slow, likely having drink left whenever they did make their way back out of the bar. (Which will be drank quickly then, but certainly not soon.)

((OOC: We missed a chance at Grog holding a conversation, but that'll only make it more interesting when it finally does happen. XD ))

When Sundos sipped the well water, it initially took all his self-control not to gulp it down. However, any greedy thirst was instantly slaked when he swallowed the cool water. His body welcomed the quenching of thirst, and as a man of faith, he appreciated the symbolic quenching of spiritual thirst. Though not a power from his own god, he sensed that the water was blessed by a divine being still loved by Pelor.

Sundos felt body and soul invigorated by the draught of well water. He was also seasoned enough as a healer to sense that the water could indeed heal injuries to body or mind. Any nerves from traveling were calmed, a quiet peace now running through him like a stream. The well water could help any companions not healed by a full night’s sleep.

Again, Mercion would dip the ladle and offer sips to Lenelle and Simon.

Grog got a mixed plate of “Seafood Medley” from the barmaid. The plate held an aromatic heap of fried shrimp, crawdads, fried trout, and chunks of fried gator. A smaller plate of cheese and a hunk of bread accompanied it. Pockets gave a quick nod and self-satisfied grin, signaling that he’d procured the extras for Grog.

Bathsheba and a human barmaid named Laoghrie alternated taking care of the section. They touched up the mugs, managing to be there when needed, and leaving quickly when not. Pockets pretend-flirted with Laoghrie, who playfully rebuffed him. It seemed less like serious flirtation, and more like ongoing banter between two old friends.

 The bard crooned a lugubrious number about the legendary “Time of Troubles”. The lyrics and vocals were far less legendary than the subject matter. The Tiefling eyed the table, waiting for Cela’s return...

Simon shakes his head, "Thank you, but I'm not really thirsty."

Sundos is more than surprised at Simon's reply. After what he experienced, how could anybody not want to drink from the well. "Are you sure? You might not ever taste or experience anything like this water. It might be a once in a life time chance.

"I will tell you what. If I don't get sick tonight or turn into a lizardman, will you return with me in the morning and try it?"

He looked at Lenelle to see her reaction. "You will like it."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:37, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

Simon blinks at Sundos, "That is an odd reaction to water. It is that important that to you that others drink of the well? How very odd. It would seem to already be having a less than desirable effect on you."

He glances over at Lenelle, "Given his reaction, I would really recommend you not drink."

Then he looks at the priestess and the well, "Hakim, grant me a few minutes of Sight, my friend. What am I looking at?"

OOC:
That last bit was him using his last slot to cast "Detect Evil and Good". It tells a lot more than that these days.

I'd already said Lenelle would drink, back in msg #45.   ;)


After Sundos had drank, Lenelle went with no further hesitation.    Mercion, like Sundos, was different from the clergy she was familiar with.  Indeed, they were more akin to what she'd always thought a gods-servant should be.   At least, those who served a supposedly benign power.

Nonetheless she could empathize with Simon's misgivings. But she smiled after she had drank.   "I appreciate your caution.   I would guess it's saved your life, more than once.  I know my own has. But in this case, I'm choosing to trust. And not for the first time."  She turned to regard the priestess once again.

"There is something I would ask you:  after we fought a number of lizard-men, including their shaman, we came upon a mysterious table.   Set with a meal;  we chanced it, and partook of the food set there.  It was delicious, and plainly we survived to speak of it.   But, there's the lingering question of who put it there."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:20, Sat 24 Apr 2021.

“I take no offense at your skepticism,” Mercion said to Simon with an understanding smile. “Despite what you may believe of the clergy, many men and women of faith begin their spiritual paths with doubt. In this temple, no one is ever required to be mindless smiling supplicants.” Perhaps she glanced at Lenelle by pure chance when she said so.

After exchanging a smile of shared faith with Sundos, Mercion added, “Take what you require of this temple, and leave what you don’t. The Church of Pelor serves Him best by serving the people.”

When Lenelle poses her question about the mysterious banquet in the woods, she frowned in thoughtful consideration. The Cleric pondered the mystery. “In all truth, sweet lady, I could not tell you. The mysteries of The Vast Swamp are as expansive and plentiful as the Swamp itself. If my old friend, Peralay Melf, were still in town, they could better answer your question. They often spoke of Fey-touched events like that of which you speak...”

Sundos mused about the well. A question lingered in his mind of whether the well was not also blessed by the sun. Of course, in Sundos Brightblood’s mind, ALL was blessed by The Sun. An interesting theological point of consideration, as Mercion brought up another to Simon.

When Lenelle drank of the well water, she indeed felt a delight like Sundos described. Their journey had been difficult, the land hot and sticky in its relentless humidity. As she swallowed the water, it occurred to her that one of the most gratifying things was a drink of cool water when thirsty. She felt invigorated, and felt any lingering tensions of the day lessen slightly. Not a loss of control or self, but a loss of unnecessary woe. She knew beyond a doubt that the water could heal the suffering.
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:15, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Cela comes back to the table after an absence of 15 minutes.  Her fur freshly brushed, her clothes... better at least, and unburdened by her pack, which she stowed in the room.

When she gets back to the table, she tells the others "The 'extra' gold the captain gave us might not go very far here.  Anything beyond the standard dinner is probably out of personal funds.

Unless we have a windfall from the butcher?"

Either way, Cela is ordering herself the seafood medley, she has a few coins and that smell is amazing.
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:15, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

When Cela mentioned gold, a certain party crashed piped up. “Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY! Cat-lady. You could win some gold at the gambling ovah there!”

Sundos beamed at Lenelle as she drank. He knew she wasn't a god fearing person so for her to have faith enough to drink meant a lot to him.

Sundos was only mildly when Simon cast a detect evil spell inside of a temple of Pelor.

"Sister, can you tell us something of the Goddess who blessed this well? I'm just a soldier who found Pelor's Ways. I have never studied much."

Cela didn't like the newcomer much, but this was a different sort of personality than she is used to.

Cela is bad at cards, she can't stop her ears from reacting to a good hand.  She's decent at dragonchess but this doesn't seem like the establishment for it and she wouldn't play for money right now.  Right now she wants to forget the smells of the swamp.

"My name is Cela, not 'cat-lady.'  I'm here for supplies and some of those prawns.  Not gambling."

Maybe he'd have better luck finding a mark with one of the others.  "Now why do we have an extra halfing at our table?"

Pelor’s Temple

If Sundos never studied Religion, then Mercion was only too happy to teach him a lesson. “Eldath is the ‘Goddess of Singing Waters’, the ‘Green Goddess’, ‘The Quiet One’, the ‘Mother of The Waters’. She protects the groves and the watersheds. Eldath is a peaceful goddess, and one who heals the hearts of those overcoming a violent past. She is a Bringer of Serenity, a patron of peacekeeping as much as nature.

Many associate her with Mielikki and Silvanus, Lathander...or perhaps even the Sun God’s name in other lands, Pelor. Her priests often serve as peacemakers and protectors of the wildlands.”



The Sulphur’s Spit

Undeterred by Cela’s rebuke, Pockets nattered on. “Cela. That beautiful lady allowed me to join your awesome table of intrepid adventurahs.” He waved at Skye with an artful flourish, smiling half-lidded at the gruff Ranger. “You’re talkin’ about money woes, and I’m talkin’ about a way to make more. I don’t run the tables. I’m just a regular customer of my good friend, Benny.”

“Here you go.” Cela’s plate arrived, loaded with succulent shrimp. The Tabaxi’s growled louder than her barb at the extra Halfling.

Traill took a drink of her ale and practically ignored the newcommer. "He thought he was welcomed.....he was wrong." She took a prawn and popped it in her mouth.

She looked at the halfling. "...as I recall I said if my friends were ok with you here you could. Me....I'd rather face that croc again.".

Suddenly, a tiny crocodile chased its own tail on Skye’s plate! Nearby, Georg gawked from the neighboring table at the bizarre sight. Bathsheba hovered nearby with a clay pitcher. “Dearie, you want more...nevermind.” A quick glance down at the table told her she would finish her rounds elsewhere.

Grog will look at the mini-lizard with a disappointed expression, then look back at Patches with a sigh.  "Illusion."

Pockets chuckled as the miniature crocodile stood on hind legs and bowed. Then, the crocodile vanished in a small burst of green and red glitter that vanished when it drifted onto the table. “Cuh-mahn, it’s better than what the bahd’s putting out ovah there.”

He glanced casually at the Minotaur. Unlike the Deadwater residents who constantly snuck furtive glances at their table, if not outright gawked, Pockets seemed at ease around a Minotaur or Tabaxi. “You, Cela, and the pretty lady fought a Giant Croc out in the swamp. What else have ya seen out there?”

"Too bad.  Tiny fresh lizards are really good." Cela says to Grog.


She puts her hand on Pocket's shoulder, and flexes her finger enough so that he can tell she has claws.  "Pockets, are you trying to trick us?"

“Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY!” Pockets wriggled out from under Cela’s paw with small yelp. He rubbed his shoulder. “You oughta trim ya nails, Cat Lady—I mean, Cela.”

The Halfling gave a shrug. “Why would you say I’m trying ta trick you guys? I get bored in this backwater, your lady friend is cute, and you guys are the most interesting people I’ve seen in a long time around these parts.”

Grog will hold up his hand and shake his head.  "Not evil."  He'll point to Patches.  "Gregarious, bored."  Grog will gesture to the meals in front of them. "Buying stories."

((OOC wasn't fast enough.))
This message was last updated by the player at 02:15, Sun 25 Apr 2021.

Leaning in Grog’s direction, Pockets lowered his voice. ”Check ya coin purse, Big Guy.”

Traill looked at the halfling, taking out a dagger, and speared another prawn. "If your so bored, then leave this place. me...I get bored and I tend to hunt."

She grasped the dagger and looked at cela. "Maybe squeeze harder....his togune and tricks are starting to get me on edge."

Keeping his voice soft, Pockets wanted until the bard strummed his lute and hit his high notes. He flipped a gold coin over each of  his stubby fingers. “How do ya feel about hunting the undead, lady?”

Grog will pick up the knife aside his untouched plate of food, analyze it for a bit, then smash it against the table leaving only the handle sticking out.  He'll look to Pockets without the need to assess his pouch.  "Admitting theft?  Exile harsh.  Ten seconds."

“Just look.” Pockets winked at the Minotaur, undeterred by the growing threats from the trio. “Don’t it feel different than before? Not as light as when ya walked in heah?”

The halfling paused at the question. "Undead are worth hunting,  but I said I'd help my new friends, and I will."

Grog will fold his arms, contemplating in the new near-silence.  "Cull undead pointless.  Equivocal source."  He'll tilt his head to the side.  "Your gain?"

“Why do you think Deadwater locks its gates every night until sunrise? Ain’t ya heard about the undead roamin’ the swamp outside?” His eyes widened as he told a campfire tale at our heroes’ table. “Every night, moanin’ and shufflin’ around, crawling the swamp for living flesh to eat! One poor night watchman was foolish enough to open the gate because he heard a lady cryin’ for help. When he opened the gate, the living dead fell on him, ate the poor fool alive! Ya shoulda heard the sounds they made while they ate him, the poor guy begging the gods for his life. Would’ve taken the whole town if it weren’t for me, Sistuh Mercy, and the rest a’ the watchmen.

The people of this heah town are afraid! You guys are the first heroes to wanduh through those gates since that bunch that killed the dragon a few years ago.” Pockets jabbed a stubby finger of indignation at Grog. “Are you tellin’ me that savin’ this town would be pointless?!”

"Simple cull save none.  Find source."  Grog will pat his chest a few times shaking his head. "Can't alone."

“Look in ya coin purse,” Pockets said with deliberateness. He waggled his fingers casually.

Grog will lift an eyebrow.  He'll eye Pockets a bit longer before deciding how to respond.  He'll pull his pack off, reach into the bag, and pull out his coin pouch, eyes not leaving Pockets.  He's got his magic show, an audience of afraid people staring at a conversation going south with strangers he just accused of being both heroes and miscreants.  Grog sets the bag down on the table, pulls the string open, and lifts out whatever it was Pockets wanted him to find.

((OOC: Darn illusionists.  Tricky pests don't even need to roll.  :3  If it's coin, Grog ain't impressed.  But that sheer confidence clearly implies that Grog has a 50/50 of being impressed or having no idea what he's holding.))

When Grog lifted his coin pouch, he noticed that it indeed had a little more heft. He found 12 gold pieces, a simple silver ring set with an agate, and a gold locket. The rest of the bar laid little attention to the table, beyond a few obvious stares at the exotic demihumans. Pockets grinned from his chair across the table.

Grog will open  the locket to take a look, his expression clearly not convinced his show matters at all.  "And?"

“OoOOoOO! Ya so jaded!” Pockets waggled his fingers in wide-eyed mockery. He held up a familiar bag that looked softer, bounding it in his hand. “You’re more impressed by a bag of dust, aren’tcha?”

He tossed it back to Grog. “Ya bored now, Minotawh?” Pockets leaned back in his chair with a cocky grin.

Grog rubs his eyes letting out a deep sigh, his frustration now obvious on his face.  His voice now lower in pitch as he speaks something in giant.    "Words are like water, powerful after drought, and damaging when flooded.  Speak.  Clearly."  Grog gestures to the small pile of gold, ring, and open locket.  "Pointless death for this?"  Grog gestures to the tavern.  "This?"  Grog gestures to the door.  "That?"  Grog will shake his head again.  "Ask a fool, or ask for something possible."

Grog pulls two silvers from his bag, add them to the pile on the table.  Taking his two bags, he gets up to leave.  He sighs once more, partially succeeding at returning to a more cheerful disposition.  Turning to Cela, Grog will return to his previous vocabulary as well.  "Room?"

((OOC: Good job Pockets!  Ya got Grog to stop being playing stoic!  My money was on Simon.))

Pockets rolled his eyes. “Pfft. Nobody died for that stuff.” The Halfling shoved the small bounty toward Cela & Skye. “I just lifted it offa the big oaf who gave you guys a hahd time at the gate (and Benny). He asked me to pay for dinnuh, so I did.”

“Why are the biggest guys always the most sensitive?”

Lenelle had listened as Mercion elaborated on the goddess Eldath.  It was a striking contrast:  to have come from a very civilized place, with beautiful geography and security that put the mind at ease.   Yet dominated by a strict, harsh church that prized rigid dogma and obedience over understanding and compassion.  She almost envied Deadwater's residents.

She smiled at Sundos, understanding he'd become a priest for the right reasons, beholden to a power that actually cared.   Then said to Simon:

"C'mon, man, take a drink!  You won't be sorry.  Have I lied to you before?"

Lastly she asked Mercion "Can you tell us anything of the dragon?  Joshua seems to believe that Deadwater's recent troubles began with it, and did not end with its demise. One of our comrades - a native of Deadwater - had a thought that maybe the lizard-men wish vengeance because of it. Or might even be nurturing a baby wyrm, somewhere."

Simon shrugs, "I have no idea, but you certainly never mentioned your celestial blood. I'll leave you with this thought: If warlocks were to be that enamoured of the Divine, we'd be clerics." He turns to leave then turns back, "I've seen this behavior before in cities. Certain herbs have an effect on people that make them crave it beyond all else...they'll do anything to get more...even recruit more customers for their suppliers."

He heads to find the rest of the party at the inn.

Cela flexes a little more.  "They're not nails, Pockets.  They're claws.  And if anything happens to the food or belongings of any of my companions, they will shred you faster than the undead can."  She lets go of him, and hands a room key and the Ale that came with her meal to Grog. (cats hate bitter flavors)

OOC: If the room name/number is not marked on the key she'll tell him where to go.

"We're not interested in your stolen goods.  We already took care of your giant croc, the Priestess can't handle the undead?"

Lenelle's mouth was a little agape, as Simon walked off.

"I...didn't know I had celestial blood, exactly?"   It was truth.  The message from the Fey, just recently, had been the sole time she'd ever been addressed that way.  Since the onset of her magic, she'd been persistently told she was touched, and tainted, by a heathen power.

Over time, she'd worked certain things out on her own; had come to understand some entity of the higher-planes had a hand in her empowerment.   But that was all she knew.

She sighed, frowned, glanced to the others.  "I know how he feels. If ignorant of his experiences, and the particulars of his life.  I should've respected his right not to trust.   Just as in the past I've wanted others to respect mine." 

Sundos was surprised by Simon's revelation. He leans towards Lenelle and quietly said, "You might be blessed by the Gods more than you know."

Then to Sister Mercy Sundos said, "Please excuse our friend. He's... hmm.. complicated. I'm not even sure why he wanted to come to the Temple with us. I'm sorry if he insulted you."

"I do thank you for allowing to drink of the well's goodness. Deadwater is certainly blessed to have the well. And doubly blessed to have you as a Lightbringer.

"We should join our other friends at the inn, unless you want to stay longer, Lenelle."

"Sister, is there anything I can do to aid you or Deadwater in some way?"

After Simon left, Mercion shook her head in pity. She gently touched Lenelle’s arm, smiling in sympathy. “Even if you weren’t of Celestial blood, your compassion shows that your spirit still holds a precious connection with a higher power. If you want, I could pray with you for understanding. Now, or at any time you return.”

The Cleric also answered her fellow Lightbringer. “How pleased am I to know that a Brother-In-Pelor so stalwartly serves the Sun Father. From your gentle words and countenance, I feel an unshakable certainty that you serve Him well.” She opened her mouth to say more, then shut it.

Mercion visibly appeared conflicted about unburdening her troubles on these newcomers. Fingers laced, she closed her eyes. Several seconds later, she opened them again, facing her visitors with trust apparent in her dark blue eyes. “Brother Sundos, I would not frivolously unload my troubles—or my responsibility—upon a visitor. Even a fellow Cleric of Pelor. However, the burden that I feel for the people of Deadwater will not allow me to let you to walk away without asking for help. Not when these people desperately need it.”

She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Then, she told them.. “My ministry for Deadwater began after my companions and I arrived in Deadwater. I’d had a premonition that we would be needed here, a foreboding shared in different manner by the Wizard and Elf who traveled with us. Brother Joshua spoke truly of our battle against the dragon who’d overwhelmed this region. With scales as black as its heart, the dragon forced the Lizardfolk to serve her. She corrupted the streams and river, preying on any who strayed too far into the marshes.

Eight of us delved into the misty heart of the swamp. Tho’ the she-beast dealt grievous injuries, we still overcame her. There were no eggs left in her nest, though. The outlander Ranger with us tracked down the nest, and she destroyed the eggs. Two of us remained to aid the community in rebuilding. I opened the Temple after several families invited me to stay longer and share the Word of Pelor.

The last eighteen months have seen joys and hardships alike. Tho’ they descended from pirates and cutthroats, I think settling down brought out the kinder aspects of many here. I would not see that kindness eradicated by the plague that still afflicts some families...or by the undead that howl outside the town gates at night.”  Her blue eyes steeled in fierce determination. “When they come, I have held them back. Yet, for each ghoul I slay, it seems that five more return. I know not the exact cause, but I know that a Dark power in the swamp sends these abominations against the good people here.

Brother Sundos, perhaps you could help me.”

“That Priestess is my friend.” The earlier glibness now gone, Pockets stared at Cela. “If you guys could whack a rapacious Giant Crocodile with few bite mahks to show for it, then you got the mojo to eradicate a swarm’a ghouls. Mercion has power, she’s got as much as she’s got faith. But there’s only one’a her. They got claws, too, Cela. She ain’t got the numbahs.”

“You got the numbahs.”
This message was last edited by the player at 02:39, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

A warlock walks into a bar....

After Simon locates his companions (the horns are a dead giveaway...no, wait, she's the barmaid... ah ha! fur and a tail. That'll do) he joins them, then notices the NEW halfling, "Go Away. We're about to have a private chat."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:11, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

“We’re in the middle of a private chat. Why don’tcha go oil yer moustache?”

"Sticky fingers here doesn't want to leave us alone, thinks we'll solve all the town's problems.  Grog went up to the room to get away from him."

Simon looks down at him, "I don't use oil, t's flammable, and I like to play with fire too much." He holds his hand over Pockets' drink. "Abra Kadabra. Ever been to Maztica? I encounters a rather interesting spice there when I was fishing for man eating fish in one of their rivers. A species of freshwater Quipper. Tasty if you know how to season it."

OOC:
Prestidigitation to "flavor" his drink with red hot chili pepper.

Simon nods, "I recommend we join him."

OOC: And I'll go back and edit how I found the group. Should have paid more attention, sorry about that.

Grog will cheer up instantly and thank Cela for the ale via large smile and lifting the mug high, taking a moment to finish that and his first mug before leaving.

Rather then stick around, he'll nod to Simon holding the key up briefly before making his way twords the room in the inn, leaving the bar (assuming no-one stops him.)



((OOC: No Grog! Don't go! Simon and Pockets antics! The bar will flood so beautifully!)) 

((OOC EDIT: The timing seamed about right to me.  XD  My exit was delayed a post with intention for a possible interaction.))

((EDIT 2: Adding timing indications.
Not changing content.))
This message was last edited by the player at 03:32, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

“Shyeah, right.” Pockets shoved the drink toward a Simon with a snort. “You look like the kinda pansy who thinks that salt is too spicy!” He waved over Bathsheba for a new drink. “If I wanna spice my drink, I’ll go with the good stuff from Kara-Tur.”

Then, Pockets waggled his own fingers at Simon. “Besides, I know a little Hocus Pocus or two myself, Slick.” Pockets sniffed. “I’d think a guy who considers himself such a dandy would know how to pick a bettah perfume, tho’.” He wrinkled his nose. “There’s a distinct odor about you, Buddy. It’s like a smell. The unmistakable smell’a BULLSHIT!”

Indeed, the scent of...well, bullshit—wafted in the air immediately near Simon. Pockets cackled.

OOC:
He’s no slouch at Prestidigitation, either.
 

Then, he looked at Cela and Skye. “That’s two ‘No’s’, but one’a you guys wanted to go after the ghouls. If your ‘private chat’,” Pockets made air quotes at Simon, “Changes ya minds, they usually shuffle around the gates at 3.”

Pockets jumped off his chair. He gave a quick bow to Skye, then mingled with the  barmaids and customers, vanishing amongst the crowd.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:59, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

Simon bends down, "Bud, you're embarrassing yourself. Firstly, Salt isn't a spice. It's a rock. Second, I'll warn you now, once, be very careful you don't do something that might be taken amiss by an outsider looking in. I have no control over his temper, nor any desire to exercise my influence for your sake."

It was a great speech, but Pockets had already scampered off. It was hard for Simon to find him, as the crowd had grown thicker with locals who’d wandered in after him.



OOC: DC 25 to find him. Matching will be acceptable for this one.



This message was last edited by the GM at 04:06, Mon 26 Apr 2021.

Traill, eating quietly, let Cena and Simon (once he arrived) do all the talking. As he left, she smirked. "Hundreds of men like him... She looked at Simon. "....think their all that and a smooth togine can get them what they want. Not the first, not the last."

She popped a shrimp in her mouth, eating it, then addressed Simon. "You've got some brains in there....just gotta use them before you speak at times."

She takes a drink. "Now he's gone, how about a chat about this ship of yours."

In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 119):

Simon shakes his head at Skye, "You really don't get it, do you? Even Grog gets it. Probably because he's doing the same thing, I suspect." He chuckles, then gets serious again, "Something is in the water. Literally and figuratively. It has an effect on some not unlike poppy juice, only it wants to spread it's influence. Don't drink it. Further discussion should be in private."

"People in the tavern don't want us to drink the water.  They want us to fight the dead.

Either way, the room fine by me.  Too loud down here.  But aren't Lenelle and Sundos with you?"  Cela gets up from the table, and takes her seafood plate.  If whatever Simon is paranoid about is it's in this, it's already too late.  If there even is something.

Skye finishes her meal, and looking around, followed cela upstairs. Hat ever was happening she knew they could fight.

...and she would help

"Thank you, sister. I...think I've been doing a terrific job of avoiding the only ones who can help me understand," she said to Mercion, in self deprecating humor.

"But, that's not important now.   We will help you," she assured the priestess, glancing to Sundos, certain he at least would not feel otherwise.   "Myself, Sundos of course, and several of the others are suited to deal with the undead. And I, at least, could not go from this place knowing we'd left you and Deadwater's people to face such an enemy without whatever aid we can give."

"No, They drank the water. And they REALLY want others to. Both of them, as soon as they drank."

Sundos smiled. "Can you tell us anything of these ghouls? Any idea where they are coming from or what unnatural power is raising them?"

Cela leads the others to the room where Grog is waiting.  "We have this one and the next one over."

Once everyone is inside and the door is closed, she says to Simon "Ok, tell us everything that happened."

In reply to Cela (msg # 126):

Simon shrugged, "First, realize that I'm not just a wastrel fisherman, although it gives me reason to travel. I'm a researcher. An Arcanist and Historian. My specialty is Mages living  dead, or between that can handle certain extremely high powered spells. So I know a bit. Also a bit about jadecrafters, if it matters.

"Anyhow We go into the the temple, Sundos makes nice, we are shown the well, which was my gal. Before I can examine it in detail, the priestess offers Sundos a drink, he does. Suddenly he wants me to drink. Now or later, as long as I agree that I will drink, he'll be happy. Odd.

"While I examine the well with an analysis spell, Lenelle drinks. Suddenly she wants me to drink as well. Then or later, it doesn't matter as long as I agree to drink. Almost as if the agreement is somehow binding on me, although I doubt it.

"Now what I SAW: The well is consecrated to not one but 2 deities. As expected, the priestess and Sundos are also consecrated to their deities. The well  water may just have an affinity for such. Lenelle...well, she isn't consecrated, she's just got a touch of the divine in her. Again, it may make her more susceptible. Or not, it could just be a coincidence and it effects everyone that way.

"I find the insistence that I drink suddenly manifesting immediately after each of themy drank to be suspect.  Why be so adamant that others must drink unless there is a reason? And what reason causes supposedly Good powers to force such a result?"

"So you used magic to investigate it and didn't actually find anything other than the well was holy before Mercion got here?

That's not a lot to go on.

Did they keep drinking?  When the food in the woods had a hold on me I couldn't stop until the stuff I liked was gone."

In reply to Cela (msg # 128):

Simon shakes his head, "I didn't say it was Holy before she got here, I said it was Holy when I checked. To two different deities. She may have done the second consecration after she arrived, if we take to heart the story of the sword being the first consecration. But that, too is mere assumption. They didn't have a second drink while I was there. they were too busy passing the ladle to those who hadn't drank, first Lenelle, then to me. What they did after I left is hard to say. I expect they will be along soon telling you all that you should drink from the well. The food in the woods felt fey. celestials are different. They crave worship. The Fey just want to have fun."

"Can you at least tell if Sundos and Mercion follow the same god, and that's one of ones it's bound to or is this just complete guesswork?"

Grog will almost say something, stop, scratch his chin a bit, then shrug.  He'll count off what he can think up on his fingers as he lists them.  "Tasty, gross, odd, memory, magic..." he continues pondering a bit before shrugging.

Just as it looks like he'd give up, his face lights up!  "Ah!"  Grog pulls his jug from his hip, and offers it to Simon.  "New view."

((OOC: Grog will show no insistence nor disappointment if turned down, of course. Though he might chuckle if Simon looks offended before offering it to someone else. Though he'll offer it to everyone one by one.  Inside is... very normal (if a little plain) tasting ale.))

Simon gives her a puzzled look, "You mean, did I look at her holy symbol? It really is THAT easy to tell, generally speaking. It wasn't apparent. However, she and Sundos traded cult greetings and quotes. I suppose she COULD be faking it all, but I would find that rather unlikely given what I DID SEE about her. If not for the water, I would think she is as trustworthy as you'll find. But she's been here drinking the water for a bit, so who knows what she thinks is appropriate behavior at this point?

"But yes, the consecrations on the Well were Sun and Water. Sundos is a Sun worshipper. Eldath was named as the Water Divinity in question by Mercion. Before you ask, I have no clue about Lenelle's specific ancestry. I doubt she does.

"The odd behavior is not guesswork, nor is the fact it was caused by drinking from the Well. That was observed fact. The rest is research. I doubt the town has the repository of historical arcane, or religious fact to use to do such research."

Simon shakes his head at Grog, "Thank you, but I'm really not thirsty. I have no idea why that is so hard for some to believe. Sometimes a Sea-Gar is just a burning pile of tightly rolled leaves."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:51, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Cela just laughs at first.

"That's it?  You came up with all this because a girl wanted you to try something?  They're not under a compulsion or anything?"

Obviously Sundos would be all about the Sun-temple.  Maybe Lenelle liked Simon, as bizarre as that would be.

In reply to Cela (msg # 133):

Simon looks at Skye Cela like she hasn't been listening, because, well..."Two people, the only two there that drank, and what I'm saying is that I think there IS a compulsion. You really should try paying attention on occasion."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:33, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Azatch trudges into the inn after a long day, hoping to see his companions with a table. After scanning the room a few times, with no luck, he plods over to the innkeeper and asks after them.

After hearing about them going to the room(s) Azatch asks about a bath and for a room for just himself, paying 1 gold for the room and to take care of any other charges such as a bath.

He gets the key then heads up to check in with the others. Azatch lets himself in during the conversation and asks a few follow up questions to get brought up to speed.

"Maybe it's a test, but maybe not one we should worry about. Not all undead are zombies. Maybe she is afraid of a type, or a certain person who can looking like a living person and drinking Holy water would be bad for them. Or maybe, there's a someone that can't abide holy water that wants to steal the relic or befoul the well."

"It seems to me that people who drink things always want other people to drink the same thing. Seems like an instinct of some kind. I don't know if holy water can be bad. But don't worry Simon, I won't eat or drink anything you find suspect, like magic food that appears in the swamp."

Skye listens to the tale and shrugs. I'm not a god fearing person, but i know that sometimes they do something thats out of our scope of thought."

He listens and when simon repeated what he said, she looked at him. "I heard you the first time...i'm not deaf. And believe it or not, i'm not gonna argue with you until you have hard evidence otherwise."

the halfling chews her lip. "What i don't understand is that holy water can hurt undead, and they have a whole well here. They gather some up and toss it, the undead will be hurt or killed. Instead they want to drink and be blessed." She looks at Simon. "I'm not up on holy stuff.....i'm a hunter. Is that right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 136):

Simon shrugs, "That is another indication that something is odd about the folks that drink of the well, yes. One I'd been too focused to see, I'm afraid. I'm  too focused on the Arcane and certain types of mage. Clerics and their Patrons are different. Not as different as they think, but different enough."

Simon considers a bit. "Undead form (or are summoned) somewhere out there, no matter how many 'die', more come... Holy Water extremely plentiful, but not used against the undead..." Simon shudders.

"OK, let's try this, and hope I'm wrong: A game. The followers of the Well vs the source of the undead. The Well is Sun and Water...opposing elements if you consider Sun as Fire. The other side might well be some forms of Air and Earth, also opposed, so one won't be quite that. Gods might not even be involved, simply their artifacts used by another. Fey would be my guess, if not Celestial/Fiend."

Then he looks up, "Anyone remember the story the gentleman in the swamp told of the Sword that is supposed to power the Well, and what it's wielder died fighting off?"

Skye listened to Simon. "I remember parts of it, it's not an old tale, but it's more local. the story is a group came and they were attacked by a plant demon. The bard offered his magic sword and life to defeat it."

He looked at the group. "Bards usually aren't too religious. Their power is in their melody and song, but a bard following a god of water pools, that's unusual on its own. A well 'blessed' by two gods isn't unheard of...heard of a stadium blessed by Tyr and Tempus. Still, a pushy priest isn't unheard of, but I want to know if this well is so powerful, why is undead so close."

Grog will answer with a lack of enthusiasm.  "Dragon. Poison."  He was paying attention, but his focus was somewhat distracted by the maintenance of his gear.  His glaive was being cleaned and sharpened at this point.

In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 138):

Simon thinks a bit, "A plant grows in the earth and makes air fresher. A dead plant may have left seeds or grow back out of a buried root." Simon shrugs, "Druids do without Patrons. And they don't take worship so seriously, just decency to Nature. Anyhow, There ARE plant creatures that could be mistaken for undead (and would probably benefit from having the water thrown on them, come to that). The only way to be sure is to find the source of the undead and see what's there. Although I wouldn't mind examining a sample undead or two. I suspect I'll get that chance tonight, and we can backtrack them in the morning. I wonder how many undead this Source can generate in a day?" He shrugs "I'm probably wrong about the specifics, but I suspect that the Well and the Source are linked somehow.  The Sword that is rumored to be in the well, and a reborn Plant would be likely. If nothing else, the Sword can kill the Plant. It has before."

Then he grins, "Even if I'm wrong about specifics, it'll still be the story I tell next year: Sword vs Plant, the Contest for Rulership of the Swamp."

The halfling sits quietly, and then smiles a half smile. "I dunno about you, but the locals may look favourably towards someone who solves this....may even give you discounts on the materails you need. how pleased will your captain be if you return with what you need and more money than they expect, all for the delay of a day or two. Who knows, it may take that long to get the stuff ready."

She crosses her arms looking out the window. "They leave a trail, I can follow it"

In reply to Skye Keenshadow (msg # 141):

Simon looks up at mention of the Captain and ship, "We should buy what we can today and tomorrow. I can only access my pavilion once a day, and I may take a couple of trips to get it all in there. A cart won't get back the way we came, so that's our best bet for transporting things, but I can only carry what I can carry per trip. Besides, I want to change into my war armor and get my silver dagger. Just in case." Then he mutters, "Besides, I have a jug of water in there."

"So...wo wants to hear the Monastery Tale?"

Simon doesn't wait for an answer,
A man is riding his horse and it comes up lame near a monastery.

"He goes to the monastery, knocks on the door, and says, 'My horse has taken lame. Do you think I could stay the night?'

"The monks graciously accept him, feed him dinner, and even heal his horse. As the man tries to fall asleep, he hears a strange sound. A sound unlike anything he's ever heard before. The Music of the Spheres came to his mind. He doesn't sleep that night.

"He tosses and turns trying to figure out what could possibly be making such a seductive sound. The next morning, he asks the monks what the sound was, but they say, 'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.' Distraught, the man is forced to leave.

"Years later, after never being able to forget that sound, the man goes back to the monastery and pleads for the answer again.

"The monks reply, 'We can't tell you. You're not a monk.'

"The man says, 'If the only way I can find out what is making that beautiful sound is to become a monk, then please, make me a monk.'

"The monks reply, 'You must travel the earth and tell us how many blades of grass there are and the exact number of grains of sand. When you find these answers, you will have become a monk.'

"The man sets about his task.

"After years of searching he returns as a gray-haired old man and knocks on the door of the monastery. A monk answers. He is taken before a gathering of all the monks.

"'In my quest to find what makes that beautiful sound, I travelled the earth and have found that only the gods know what you ask. All a man can know is himself, and only then if he is honest and reflective and willing to strip away self deception.'

"The monks reply, 'Congratulations. You have become a monk. We shall now show you the way to the mystery of the sacred sound.'

"The monks lead the man to a wooden door, where the head monk says, 'The sound is beyond that door.'

"The monks give him the key, and he opens the door. Behind the wooden door is another door made of stone. The man is given the key to the stone door and he opens it, only to find a door made of ruby. And so it went that he needed keys to doors of emerald, pearl and diamond.

"Finally, they come to a door made of solid gold. The sound has become very clear and definite. The monks say, 'This is the last key to the last door.'

"The man is apprehensive to no end. His life's wish is behind that door!

"With trembling hands, he unlocks the door, turns the knob, and slowly pushes the door open. Falling to his knees, he is utterly amazed to discover the source of that haunting and seductive sound...

"But, of course, I can't tell you what it is because I don't know. I'm not a monk...and neither are most of you."

"No, but I am and you've never seen a monastery in your life.  There are no locks, no doors made of gems, and that quest is absurd."  Cela tells Simon.

"The Captain doesn't know about the undead.  The ship is vulnerable.  We need to get back with the supplies first, and warn them.  If we help the town, it should happen while repairs are underway."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:45, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Back at the Temple

Sundos took Sister Mercy's hand in his two hands. "Thank you, Sister. Thank you for allowing to partake from the blessed well. You shine Pelor's Light in this corner of the world. The people of Deadwater are lucky to have you here. We shall find the source of the ghouls. We have friends who are hunters. They should be able to track them."

He took his leave from the temple and headed back to the Inn.

Now at the end

He ordered a simple meal of stew and asked where the others have gone. He took his food and ale with him as he went into the room.

"Greetings, everybody. Sister Mercy is a lovely lady and a holy priestess. She asked for our help. The village has trouble with some ghouls in the swamp. She asked if we could help them." 

Simon smiles, "You mean there weren't in any monastery you've been to. As far as you know. Or have you been to every monastery in the world and made privy to all their secrets. You seem young to have achieved that. "

Sundos (and probably Lenelle) arrive in time to hear the tail end of Simon and Cela's conversation.



"And yet your tale implies only a 'grey-haired old man' can become a monk.  Your stories are fantasy, nothing more.  You should spend more time in this world and not the one your Benefactor inhabits."

She turns to face the new arrivals, with her back to Simon.

"Welcome back.
The ship is vulnerable out there.  Trapped.  The captain doesn't know about the undead, and we've been gone two nights already.  We need to get the supplies back so repairs can start and they can get to deeper water, or maybe the town dock.  If we help the town, we do it while repairs are underway.  Otherwise we may not have a ship to go back to."

Sundos just rolled his eyes at Simon's words to Cela. He took a little comfort that Simon was such a ... well.. he treated everybody the same.

Sundos sat down to eat his dinner. "Do we know if the town all of the supplies we need ready? Also, maybe some of the town people will take the supplies back to the ship while we are handling their ghoul problem."

He took a drink of ale. "No offense to our guides, but did we take the most direct trail from the ship to here? I thought we had gotten 'confused' on the way and took a little longer to get here. Maybe the town folk know a more direct path back to the ship."

Earlier, at the temple...

Mercion attempted to answer Sundos’ question. “Unfortunately, Brother, my gifts from Pelor lend themselves more to healing and defense, than divination. I cannot discern the source of the ghouls...only a hateful evil behind them.” When they parted ways, Mercion hugged Sundos. “Pelor blessed me by bringing you and yours here. I am grateful for your help in this manner.”

The Priestess turned to Lenelle, and gently her hands. “Your open mindedness is a gift in its own right. May you always see the world through questioning, but hopeful, eyes. May you find the answers there you seek in the way that most affirms you.” Then, she gave Joshua a hug, not unlike one a sister might give a fondly regarded little brother. “Thank you, Brother Joshua, for bringing these allies to me. Pelor will surely bless you for it.”

When they returned to The Sulphur’s Spit...

Sundos and Lenelle noticed their reception seemed a little cooler the second time. Several patrons pointed and murmured. A sandy-haired Halfling saw them and asked, “Aren’t they pals with that pushy Magic-Usah?” The barmaid in question bristled slightly at the mention of Simon. A voluptuous redhead playfully running her fingers through Pockets’ hair sniffed. “Yeah, he was a snotty one. So bossy and demanding!”

The last conversation happened in earshot of Joshua, who abruptly answered it. “These two traveled with him, but they’re NOT like him. Miss Lenelle is decent and kind, and Brother Sundos is a Man of Pelor.” He pointed to the solar crest on Sundos’ tunic. “They’re not jackasses like the other one, so try to show a little hospital, huh?”

Although the patrons weren’t keen on mixing spirits, Divine & Liquid variety, the softer customers visibly warmed a little upon seeing the symbol of Pelor. The redhead teasingly touched Joshua’s chest. “Well, if you vouch for them, they can’t be bad.”

Upstairs

Sundos & Lenelle returned in time for a pointed exchange between Simon & Cela. The party faced a few important decisions to make. Would they tarry in Deadwater or abandon the town to its own troubles? If they took Cela’s third path, what was the best way to warn the ship of the undead in time? Unfortunately, Simon & Sundos realized that they’d left behind a Druid who could have shifted into a bird. What was their plan?

OOC:

Sundos, by sunrise, you’ll get a +1 bonus in your Persuasion checks with the locals.

After bidding a fond farewell to Priestess Mercion, she was surprised by the initial reception from the locals.   Until she learned its source. At which Lenelle sighed.   The sad thing was, as Azatch had pointed out, Simon was intelligent, and sometimes had a good way of analyzing things.   Unfortunately,  it was like his ego goaded him to trample others, in striving to prove that he was right.

After smiling her thanks at Joshua for defusing the situation, she went upstairs to find their Tabaxi friend dealing with that very issue.   Cela of course recognized there were important matters to address, with Sundos having communicated what they'd learned and experienced with Mercion.

"If it must come to stranding myself here, so that I may help with this threat, then that is what I will do," supplied Lenelle, leaving no doubt whatever where she stood.

"But you're right, Cela.  Amara and the ship must be warned.  And I agree with Sundos --  that it's a task best undertaken by native residents, if they are willing.  Perhaps in the company of one or more of us."   

Ironically, the way Lenelle is talking could lend some credence to what Simon is trying to warn of.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Cela has a plan that she runs by the others.  "So we do both.  Traill and Sundos try to track the source of the ghouls in the day.

We send a party back to the ship with supplies, tell them to either dock here or head for deeper water and send us a message.

Laredon is a woodworker.  He'd be a big help if we could convince him to travel to the ship, but I don't know if he'd go.  Joshua would likely help.

Simon can store some supplies for transport in his magic house.  If he can cover the wood and pitch, the rest can be carried by a few.  Simon, at least one more of us, and whatever villagers we can convince get the repairs started.  They'll need Azatch if we can't get a decent local guide.

That leaves the rest of us with a choice of who to help."

Edit: Traill instead of Skye
This message was last edited by the player at 19:42, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Lenelle turned all of that over in her mind.   It did seem a very sound way to approach the situation.   She nodded.

"I think that's wise.  I don't know this Laredon, but plainly he has the needed skills. Perhaps Sundos could speak with him?   If his faith is as strong as some of the others here, then a priest of Pelor has the best chance of getting him to agree to help."

Grog will continue his maintenence work.  "I help any."

Sundos had mixed feelings. He wasn't sure how wise it was to split the crew like this. But one the other hand, having a certain member gone would be the trip a little more quiet...

"Grog, will you come with us and fight against the ghouls? We could use your skills in battle.

"I am sure if Lenelle asks him, Joshua will be willing to help us out too. The boy was pretty smitten."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:32, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Grog will nod solemnly.  "Find source.  See magic?"

She blushed faintly. Then smiled, winked to Sundos.  "It's just the water, I'm sure."

To Grog: "Aye. Find the source of the undead, if we can.  And if we do see it -- then remove or destroy it."       If that was possible.  She wondered if it might be a curse of some sort.  She had heard the worst of those could be quite complex to remove...

Traill sat there listening to Cena's plan and nodded. "If there is a trail, I can follow it. it will be hard in a swamp...the water washes away a lot, but given the cleric here, she may know a rough area to start." She looked at Sundos. "And if it's undead, I'll be more than happy with Sundos here...Grog too."

she looked at Sundos. "Whats the chance of a few flasks of holy water....if we're going to help them, some weapons against them might help."

"I can climb the wall - fast.  We could test the flask against them tonight."

“That’s a smaht plan, ladies!” Suddenly, Pockets shimmered into view. The Halfling held up his hands. “Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY! I’m not heah to make any trouble!”

Hands still up, Pockets shifted his eyes to the people closest to him. “I wanna help. I know a way I can help you guys.”


OOC:

16:08, Today: Secret Roll: Pockets rolled 16 using 1d20+6.  Stealth.


This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Tue 27 Apr 2021.

Sundos nodded to Traill, "Let me finish eating and maybe get cleaned up a little then I will go back to the temple..."

When Pockets made his sudden appearance, Sundos jumped up with mace in hand. He pointed at Pockets and said, "Who is that?"

Hands still held high, the intruder introduced himself. “Just call me ‘Pockets’. I met Cela, the Minotawh, the pretty woodslady, and...that other one earlier. I’ve kept an eye on you guys tonight, in paht because Mercion & Josh are my friends.”

Grog glares at Pockets, rubs his chin a bit, then offers are slow clap.  He pulls out his waterskin and ale jug.  "Holy water."  He'll offer them to Pockets, with a face either hiding a grin or faking one.

The gesture got a friendly chuckle from Pockets. “Hey, Buddy, I’m no teetotaluh, but lemme finish the negotiations before we get drunk, huh?” He pointed to Sundos and the others with a raised hand.

Grog will let out a humored snort.  "Fill in well.  Ale gift."

Traill listened to the plan with a nod. As Pockets spoke and appeared, she reacted, jumping up dagger in hand. She made no move yo attack, but narrowed her eyes at him. "You pull that crap again, I'll cut off your manhood and feed it to the zombies....followed by your head."

She sheathed her dagger and sat again, frustrated the fool suprised her.

She looked at Cela. "Can we use him as a lure?"

“...or you could be smaht again, and heah me out on my offah.”

Cela nods at Traill.

Traill sighs, and looks at him. "Two minutes, then I'm gonna let grog throw you out the window. and if your lucky, he'll open it first!"

“OoOooOoo, you like the rough stuff, huh?” When Traill held up her knife, Pockets held out a hand. “Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY! Enough with the threats, okay? Take the arrow feathuhs outta yer ears, I said that I’m trying to help!”

He lowered his hands and smoothed out his shirt. “You guys need to send word ta yer friends on the boat, right? But the tall lady doesn’t wanna leave Deadwater in peril. But some of you guys might be a little worried about splitting up?” Pockets looked up at Lenelle. “What if you could warn yer friends without splitting up? Huh?”

Trail was getting frustrated with her kinsman, and she took no pains to hide it. "Get to the point already." She said with a hard edge to her tone

Sundos leaned towards Lenelle and quietly said, "Did he say his name was 'Pockets'?" He slowly grabbed his coin pouch to make sure it was still safe.

"If he can help us and the ship, let's hear him out and see what he has to say, at least. What do you have, Pockets?"

Pockets reached under his purple tunic and pulled out a scroll.“If you really are a Cleric, then I think you can cast this spell heah.” He walked toward Sundos and handed him the scroll. Sundos would see a Scroll of Sending. “I picked this scroll up a while back, but I think it’s outta my skill set.“

"Let me see that scroll please. I have heard about this spell before. And heard about scrolls like this this, but have never seen one before."

Sundos looks at the scroll and starts to read it slowly with a confused look.  "Shh.. let me look at it..." He mumbled a few words in Celestial. He looked up with excite and confidence. "Yes..yes... I think I can perform this spell. We can use it to send a short message to Captain Amara. We can tell her about the undead and our delay."


He read the words written in Celestial from the scroll, then said;

"Amara, in Deadwater now. Lizardmen and undead in jungle. Keep watch and guards. Need few days to gather supplies and destroy ghouls."

Sundos sat back and took a deep breath.

Although Sundos had not yet reached the spiritual level to cast the spell by prayer, perhaps the Sun Father blessed his faithful servant in this risky endeavor. Sundos felt an understanding and acceptance from the woman who employed him. Her reply in his mind sounded as pleasant as her rich alto in person. No sign of any undead on our end. We’re tending the sick. Will double the watch. Be careful out there.

“Hey, Holy Man. Did the spell work?” Pockets stared at Sundos with an almost clinical fascination.

Sundos smiled and opened his eyes. He looked at Pockets, "Yes, it did. It did indeed. Thank you for allowing me to use the scroll. Did you get dinner tonight?"

He then told the rest of group of Amara's reply.

“Yeah. Benny’s shrimp. I like it almost as much as Cela.” Then, Pockets surprised them by keeping quiet long enough for Sundos to relay their captain’s reply. When Sundos shared her update, Pockets faced them with a grave earnestness they hadn’t seen before. “Now that you guys warned ya friend, how about helping Mercion deal with those ghouls?”

Traill looked at Pockets in a new light. To give up something as valuable as a magical scroll (Even one he couldn't use) without cost was endearing, and though he still had a big and constantly moving mouth, that improved her opinion of him.

"There may be hope for you yet....if you shut your mouth long enough to think."  She looked at the others. "Now your captain knows, maybe scouting itsn't such a bad idea. Sundos....can you ask your friend about some holy water for attacking the ghouls?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Azatch, after getting caught up on conversation and the undead situation, decided it was time for a bath and a nap.

"Wake me up if we go to see the ghouls, or whatever," Azatch asked his allies and informed him that he was taking a private room. Suddenly the day seemed to take a toll on him. He wondered if growing sapped his strength.

He found the place to bath and relaxed for a soak, then went to his room to sleep, suddenly too tired to follow through with his original evening plans.

Short rest: 7hp (spent 1 HD)
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Simon yawns, "Grog, do me a favor would you? Hold out your hand palm up for me?"
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Eyeing Simon warily, Pockets sidled up beside Sundos. He briefly turned his head as if looking at something in the corner of the room. Then, he turned around, watching the Warlock with a vigilant eye.
This message was last updated by the player at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Grog, looking with curiosity, sets down his waterskin and jug.  He cautiously glances at the rune on his right hand, then holds his left arm out, left palm up.
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

In reply to Grog (msg # 182):

Simon nods, "Thanks, I'm knackered and need a rest and a change of clothes. Yell if you need me and don't let the little thief near this. Explaining his body would be difficult." And Simon disappears, his signet ring falling into Grog's palm. It has 3 smoking balls as it's seal. Or maybe they are smoldering embers....
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:16, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Grog quickly closes his hand to keep it safe, then stares at his closed hand a while.  He'll scratch behind his ears (with his other hand of course.)  Grog lifts and open his jug one-handed and takes a sip, pondering.

Traill had heard the discussion of simon's place, but didn't really understand. Seeing him disappear, she (for the first time you had seen), a look of surprise on her face. "That was....i mean....That's one damn neat trick." she says.

"I'm gonna have a few hours sleep....be my sharpest to track these undead." With that, the halfling took a blanket out of her bag, and curled up on the floor on the corner

Sundos stood up and stretched. "I will head back to the temple, before it gets too later. I will see if I can get some Holy Water and see what Mercy says about using against the ghouls. Somehow, I wonder if the water will be as effective once it leaves the temple. I will go talk to her. Pockets, want to come with me? I'm not as cute as the others, but I could use your help carrying back extra vials of Holy Water."

“Aww, you don’t need THAT much beauty sleep,” Pockets said with a devilish wink at Traill. When Sundos invited him along, he accepted with an eager nod. “Yeah, Holy Man, I’d be glad to escort ya back to the Temple.”

He looked up at the Cleric, studying him. “‘Mercy’, huh? You either been hanging around Josh, or you’ve gone sweet on her yaself!” With a bawdy chuckle, he readied himself for the walk over. “Get some shut eye, you guys.”
This message was last edited by the player at 19:15, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

When Pockets commented, trail made no move to open her eyes, but spoke. "...and back wanting to throw you out the window again. Grog.....do me a favor. He speaks to me again, try stuff him in that ring with simon. Use as much force as you want."

She turned over to sleep, but the faint smile was on her face.

...wether the comment of pocket, or the thought of grog stuffing him into a ring, you don't know

"You came here with her, didn't you?"  Lenelle inquired of Pockets,  before he departed with Sundos. By 'her' she was of course referring to Mercion.    "You're the other member of the adventuring party that stayed."

Lenelle too needed to rest, if she was to be at full effectiveness for what was to come. If just for one last time, she wanted to lay on a bed, and be clean again.   Even if only to face a gory, gruesome fate.   Which wasn't so unlikely.      She headed back downstairs to see if any rooms were available.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:20, Wed 28 Apr 2021.

Pockets answered Lenelle with a smile, a knowing wink, and a chivalrous bow. "Sweet dreams, Fair Lady." Turning to Sundos, he said, "We got a Priestess to see about some holy watah."

Grog will take a quick swig from his jug, pick up the waterskin, and attempt to hand both to Sundos.  "Fill in well."

"Sure, Grog.. I will fill them, with the Priestess' permission. Like I said earlier, I'm not sure how well you will feel the blessings outside of the temple. But we can try and see what happens."

Once they were on the street and on their way to the temple, Sundos told Pockets, "I'm not sweet on her. She is a beautiful lady and seems to be very devout to Pelor... I mean, I heard Joshua call her 'Mercy'. I thought everybody in town called her that."

After a few more steps he repeated, "I'm not sweet on her."

Cela tells Lenelle just before she leaves "I got this room and the next over for the group to share.  Most of the money the Captain gave us was for supplies.

If we're going to be here longer, it's even more important."

Plus, seven rooms to check for peeping invisible halflings?  What a nightmare.

Cela takes out her bedroll and sets it on the floor.  It doesn't unroll very far, and seems to be cut for the occupant to sleep curled in a ball.

"Ah.  Thank you for that. I was kind of hoping to clean up a little. But, that's the old me talking.   It's not as if it matters, with what we've got ahead of us." 

Lenelle began setting out her own bedroll.  While doing so, she couldn't help but note the unusual cut of Cela's, and that it implied the position in which a feline tended to curl up.

She felt impelled to ask:  "What led you to study and train at the monastery?   Is it something your people often do?   Or was it unique to you?"   

Cela works her way into a resting position.

"Showed up there one night, as a kitten.  Fleeing a siege of the town, I'm told.  I don't know how long I was on the mountain before I found them.  The order took me in, treated me as a member even before I figured out how to tap into my ki."

“If ya so, Holy Man,” Pockets said with a skip in his step. As they neared the stairs, he said, “I’m glad ya got some use outta that scroll! I nicked it off a no good Wizuhd right before we sailed here. Awful piece of scum fella named Kelek!”

While they passed the last row of shacks, they heard a woman screaming shrilly from behind closed door and windows. “I told you to go to sleep an hour ago!” Even from the street, they heard a sharp *SMACK*, followed by a child sobbing. “Enough of that bawling, Elise, or else I’ll give you something to truly bawl about!”
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:06, Thu 29 Apr 2021.

Sundos hated it when kids were beaten. He marched right up to the door and pounded on the door with the butt of his mace. "Open this door!"

OOC: He used Thaumaturgy to make his voice louder and give it that 'command tone'.

At first, nobody answered, but Sundos heard a shuffling behind the door. When he banged on the door again, a woman answered. “Who is there?! And what would you want at this hour?”

The way that Pockets rolled his eyes and shook his head told Sundos that his diminutive companion recognized the speaker.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:46, Thu 29 Apr 2021.

Again using Thaumaturgy to amplify his voice, "Open in the name of Pelor the Bringer of Light. We need to talk, M'Lady."

The old wooden door creaked open a few inches. Sundos saw a woman with a pinched face peek through the crack. “What business have you with me, Father?” Dark hair pulled back tightly into a severe braid framed a pinched face filled with hostility. “I already paid my tithe to Sister Mercion, Father,” she said sarcastically.

“I ask again, what is your business with me?”

"It's not as bad as it sounds.  I guess what I'm saying is I started studying to be a monk because I was hungry."

"I wasn't thinking it sounded bad.  I was just curious; I've met a fairly large number of priests, but very few monks. And none who were Tabaxi.  I don't really know about ki, but it strikes me as more subtle and natural than spellworking."   She smiled a little. "I've not had much experience with going hungry. Not for food.  But I know what it's like to be hungry in heart, in spirit.  And to end up where you hope you can be fed."   

Sundos took a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper.

He smiled. "I'm not here to collect tithes. I felt compelled to stop and give you a message. The Lord Pelor loves us all, especially children. As parents we are to raise our children in love. When discipline is needed, it needs to be done with love and an absence of anger.

"Also, I need some assistance for less than an hour at the temple. May I borrow Elise to walk with us to the temple. I will bring your child back shortly. Of course, you can come too if you like."

Cela is settled into a resting position, but keeps looking at Lenelle.  "I found that there, and a family of sorts even if I was the only Tabaxi.

Ki flows through all living things.  If your spellcasting comes from you, maybe you just know it in a different way."

"I'm glad that you did."   As regards spell casting - "That could be. I think some of it comes from me, and some of it doesn't."   She shrugged. "There are surely things you and some of the others know that I've got no clue about. I envy those who learned their art from a caring instructor or mentor." 

Having finished laying out her bedroll, she laid down upon it.

"What made you decide to leave the monastery?"

Outside

For a second, the kind smile and words softened the woman’s harsh demeanor. When he asked to take her child, though, her face tightened again. Her posture stiffened as she stepped between Sundos and the doorway. “I am a widow raising two children after my husband was found butchered in the swamp. I toil daily with sewing and cleaning other people's dirty clothes  to earn enough coin to care for my family.

Perhaps I am not as soft a touch with the little ones as you. But I feed them, keep them clothed, and keep a roof over their heads! And I’ll NOT be sending my oldest daughter on a crusade or whatever high-minded church business you have in mind for her!” The woman shuffled back inside and slammed the door.

Pockets shook his head sadly. “And that is Miriam Greaves.” As they walked off, he added, “She’s as dedicated to being a miserable busybody and all-around shrew as she is to raising those little ones. People here offah help, but she’s too full of false pride. Wouldn’t leave any room for her to judge others harshly.”
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:16, Thu 29 Apr 2021.

Sundos stared at the closed door for a second or two. He sadly turned from the door to follow Pockets. He quietly said, "I just wanted to give her a drink of the well. I thought it would make the kid feel better and give her some peace... I know we can't force anybody to accept Pelor's blessings. But it's sad when people turn them down." He reflected a little on what happened with Simon at the temple earlier today.

He took a deep breath and put his hand on Pocket's shoulder. "Tell me, how long have you known Mercion?"

EDit:  make a Who into a How.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:52, Thu 29 Apr 2021.

"Training was never easy, but it was good to be nudged on the way for a while.

The master passed away.  Old age, her race has a short span."

Cela's ears briefly drop at this phrase.

"It seemed like a good time to explore the world and learn on my own.  So I joined an army for a while, until I met the captain."

“I met her after a few adventures of my own. Me and a lady ranger as tall as the Half-Orc, and just as tough. A Yuan-Ti assassinated a very important man in the East. That’s when we met Mercion’s party. She was still little more than a child, fresh outta her own temple.

After we killed the Yuan-Ti, we traveled to some interesting places. About two years later, Mercion got a vision. A great dragon wreakin’ terror in the Vast Swamp. A Wizuhd in our party got a distress call from a lady he knew. We came here, and after we slew the dragon, me and Mercion stuck around. Hey, look, we’re almost there!”

"I'm sorry you lost her.  I've lived mostly among human kind, and tend to think of myself that way, in spite of being half elf.  But I know one day I may have to watch any humans I'm close to age, and pass away."   Of course, the path she was beginning to walk might well cut her life short much sooner.

"Have you known the captain longer than the voyage we were on?  Considering the things she handed out to us, she would seem to be more than only a captain."   
This message was last edited by the player at 00:27, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

"You've known her a long time, Pockets. I've known Simon for a while. We were both hired to help some people with their gibberlings problem. We just kind of stuck together since then. Both of us looking for similar work. Kind of surprise myself that we have kept working together." He shrugged. "There must be a reason for it. Maybe we keep each other balanced out." He chuckled.

Sundos felt a sense of peace fall upon him as he saw the temple again. He wanted to drink from the well again, but felt that out be greedy to take it so soon after the first time.

"Will it be alright to come this late. Will the temple still be opened?"

Sundos tried to open the door.

Sundos demonstrated excellent timing with his arrival. Just as he approached the temple, the door opened. Mercion looked surprised, but pleased to see him. “Brother Sundos.” A wry smile appeared when she noticed Pockets tagging along. “I see you’ve made a friend. I wondered how long it would take Pockets to discover you.”

Sundos' eyes brighten when he saw Mercion. He looked down at Pockets. "To be honest, he did not find me so much. He found a couple of my female crewmates. They were the ones to draw Pockets out of his shy shell." He smiled.

"I'm sorry to come back so late. I had a boon to ask of you. My crewmates have agreed to help find the source of the ghouls and do what we can to stop them. We were wondering of the Holy Water from the well would damage the undead. We wanted to take some vails and try to use them tonight. If they work tonight, we will take more with us in the morning. If you allow us."

"Also, I'm a little embarrassed to ask." He held up Grog's jug and water skin. "My friend, Grog, asked if I could fill these from the well." He blushed slightly in asking.

"Isn't Simon supposed to live forever?  You might have a friend in your old age after all.

I've been aboard for a month or so, but this voyage is much more eventful than the last."

Mention of Pockets needing help to come out of his shell got a good-natured laugh from Mercion. Her laugh was a light, airy sound, almost musical. “Yes. Because Pockets is so shy.”

“Hey! Hey, Hey, HEY! I’m standin’ right here, y’know!”

“My apologies, friend.” Still, she swallowed a laugh as she smiled at Sundos. Her fellow priest returned with serious business at hand, She put aside her joking banter. Her blue eyes held the thoughtfulness that Sundos had seen earlier. “Yes. To douse the undead with water from Eldath’s Well is like dousing them with acid.

That is why those unfortunate few longtime members of my congregation who fell to them did not turn. They died of their injuries, but did not rise as ghouls. Of course you may fill your vials.” Mercion gestured at the jug and waterskin. “And the containers for your friend.”

Mercion’s cloak slipped back as she welcomed them, revealing a suit of half-mail armor. A gleaming mace hung at her hip. She looked dressed for battle.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:30, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

Lenelle laughed shortly and softly.  "I think I may have missed that bit about him living forever.  Perhaps the gods employ him as a means of testing we mere mortals? It's kind of amusing to imagine he might be doing the very same with some other group, four or five centuries hence. As for me, a half-elf's span is longer than a human's, but not that long."     
This message was last edited by the player at 15:40, Fri 30 Apr 2021.

"I'm not sure the gods think much about mortals at all."  Cela says.

Then she closes her eyes, ears still alert.  She's not sleeping per se, she's meditating.  Other than her ears tilting towards any sounds in the room, it's indistinguishable from sleeping to most observers.

OOC: Cela's understanding of Simon's longevity is incomplete, but she does know he keeps insisting he can't be killed by anyone except the being that lives in the ring.  Simon can't correct her right now - I'm unsure if he can hear.

At the Temple

Sundos was surprised to see Mercion dressed for battle. "I thought you were going to minister to the sick. My friends and I were planning to fighting the ghouls when they come to the walls tonight. I would be honored if you joined us."

"Before the ghouls come tonight, my I pray and meditate here at the temple? It's just a peaceful and restful place. It would help me a lot."

OOC: If she allows it, Sundos will take his short rest here at the temple, praying at the alter.

“I cannot ask you to endanger your lives fighting my battle, while I remain safely behind the town walls.” Mercion stepped aside and gestured toward the altar. “Yes. You may pray at the altar, and there are cots if you need rest.”

Standing torches lit the way toward the altar. “I will still visit a few families, before I return here a quarter hour before three o’clock. Then, we will join your friends at the gate.” She handed Grog’s jug and waterskin to Pockets. “Wait with these until I return. Rest if you need to do so. We will be busy soon enough.”

Grog will carefully work on his armor upkeep and maintenance (having finished with his weapon,) then take a short rest.

((OOC: Or to put it another way, go back to what he was doing before.  Figured I'd post to say 'preparing for conflict'))

"I said that in jest, and believe me, I know that they do not always care, or pay attention.  I told a falsehood at the altar of one, for years, and never burst into flame."   

Lenelle too closed her eyes, and was fairly soon asleep.   But not before realizing her gratitude that she no longer needed to put on an act, or had any need to be dishonest.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:46, Sat 01 May 2021.

Hours later...

Sundos felt a small hand touch his shoulder. “Hey, Brutha Sundos. Wake up!” Then, Pockets cast a spell.

At the inn, a small mouth formed on the headboard of the bed closest to Lenelle & Cela. It cleared its throat, and yelled at the top of it voice, “Hey! Hey, Hey, Hey! It’s time ta go ta the wall!”

Cela winces, but gets up right away at the noise.

She leaves most of her belongings in the inn, taking only the potion of fire-breathing and a few darts.

She makes sure Lenelle is ready before heading to the wall.

OOC: Is Grog still around?  In the second room?

Simon pops out in his war armor, bearing his crossbow. Yes, apparently he has a crossbow.

"Gods DO care about people, they feed on worship. That's about the extent of it, usually, and what separates them from less narcistic Patrons. I'm not immortal, merely not due to die for a few decades. And, yikes, you two talk a lot when those around you are trying to sleep."

Once Grog is awake enough, he'll hold out his hand for his ring. Meanwhile, he'll recast False Life.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:52, Mon 03 May 2021.

Sundos smiled and slowly woke up. He doesn't remember the last time he has had such a restful sleep. He felt like he had slept for hours. A quick look out the windows told him it was still dark out. "Thank you, Pockets. I will be ready in a minute."

He quickly donned his armor then took a minute to offer a prayer at the alter. It was dark and cold. He hated the dark hours between midnight and sunrise. Nothing good ever happened during those hours.

He made sure he took the vials of holy water and Grog's jug and waterskin, filled from the well.

OOC: How many vials do we have?

“Mercion went on ahead.” He carried a straw basket with vials. “We only got seven vials, though.” The Halfling frowned and sighed. “I thought we had more.”

Lenelle was up; startled awake, out of a peaceful dream, as soon as the Hey-ing began.   She looked a little askance at the mouth; not a spell she was familiar with, and a little amused by it after the initial shock.  She wondered what sort of magic-worker Mercion's fellow adventurer was.   Likely, she would find out soon enough.

She glanced toward Simon, while she warded herself for the coming conflict.   Casting mage armor 

"With your aim, don't shoot that bow unless you're in front of me," she smiled and winked at him, plainly in humor.

"Some of us are not guaranteed a few minutes, let alone a few decades!"

Cela just nods at Simon.  They'd beeen quiet for hours now, but Simon had headed off to bed first.

"You should both just stay on the wall.  Anyone who can fight better at range.  Not sure if we can risk opening the gate, and I don't think most of you can climb it."

At the sound of the halfling casting his spell, traill jumps up, alert with a dagger in her hand. She blinks a few times, seeing Cena and Simon, then relaxes with a sour look. "He isn't here and I still want to kill him." She mutters as she gathers her weapons.

She grasped her bow but nodded. "If anyone has some oil, bring that too....if we have no holy water, fire is just as good." She adjusts tbe crossbow mounted on her hand, then the quiver and sword at her back.

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!