Elise Greaves sobbed pitifully. Miriam gripped her daughter’s shoulders, trying to calm the girl enough to get an answer. Joshua broke away to check the trees, but shook his head when he couldn’t find the girl. The adults pressed Elise, who stared wide eyed. “Elise, you must tell me, what happened to Phoebe?”

Finally, the child screamed, “She took her!”

“Who? Who took Phoebe?”

Elise shook with sobs as she screamed, “The Witch, Mama! The Bad Woman who took Papa away! Sheila!”

The villagers closed around our heroes, a flurry of words hitting the group like the storm that had driven them to Deadwater. “Sheila Blackmoor?!” “It’s not my fault the girls got out! I only left my post to relieve myself, Connor was daydreaming…!” “You wouldn’t need to ‘relieve yourself’ so often if you didn’t drink up half the Sulphur Spit’s tankards!” “Who is the strange woman with Azatch’s group? Where is Simon? He could stop any Witch!”

Sister Mercion caught Sundos’ eye, looking as overwhelmed by the cacophony as the crowd of villagers grew. However, she attempted to calm them as a voice of reason in the maelstrom. “Please, we will find little Phoebe, but we must calm down and gather all the facts before we can help anyone!”

Joshua closed on Lenelle, looking confused now. “What happened with my brother? Does this mean it wasn’t him who brought the ghouls on Deadwater? Do you think she really did this…?”

In all the din, Miriam remained oddly quiet. She held her crying child, her jaw clenched as she slowly shook her head. When the other villagers talked over Mercion, she released Elise and stood. Fists clenched tight, she unleashed a scream that immediately silenced the crowd. They all stared at Miriam, perhaps shocked by her outburst, but deferring to a mother who nearly lost her own child to the swamp. Miriam’s scream ended, followed by an accusing glare at Laredon. “I told you! Years ago, when my husband died, I told you it was her fault! You denied me then, and look what has happened since! The undead marching on our town! Now, she’s stealing our children!

No more excuses, Laredon Van Dee! Gather your men and march to her shack! Find the Witch and make her PAY!”

Azatch looked at Sundos or one of the other talkers to calm this situation. When none stepped forward immediately he called out, "yeah sure. Gather your men so they can march into the swamp and die Laredon. Or leave the town undefended when the undead come tonight. Both are great plans."

"A scared kid isn't a reason to gather a mob. There's something in the swamp taking other people's faces and sending undead . Wasn't Jason who showed up outside of town before. Everyone in town's lost people, so stop screaming like you're the only one Miriam and look to your girl."

"You all go back to town and we'll do what we've been doing and risk our lives for you ungrateful sots."

With that Azatch turned his back on Miriam and let the talkers talk. He looked to the druids in their wolf forms and motioned them outward. He muttered quietly so only sharp eared people and wolves could hear him, "come on, lets get a feel for the trail and see where it leads for a bit while they natter about and cry more."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:05, Wed 11 Aug 2021.

Skye listened to the mob, talking, then Azatch. When he spoke, she had a smile and when he went away, she followed him. "Well said. Now, between us, lets see if we can't find a trail big man. This hidden enemy is gonna get one hell of a halfling ass kicking when we catch him."

She looks at him and the wolves. "If we start where we found the cloth and hair and fan out. Azatch, you fan left, i'll go right. If the druids skirt the edge to see what's on our flanks.....As much a pain in the ass as pockets was, he had skills. Anyone who took him would have needed help."

Azatch gave a good speech to the townsfolk, hopefully enough to stop the pitchforks, at least for a bit.

Cela asks Miriam "The girls seem to look up to me and Lenelle.  Can we talk with your daughter a bit?"

"...I think this is another fake," said Tara.  "Someone's making a lot of trouble for folks this way, and I don't like how they're doing it."

But she was glad someone else was doing the talking.  It wasn't her strongest suit.

Grog left the others to speak with the folk from the village. He followed Azatch. "What are we looking for? Bits of clothing, footprint in the mud. Not sure if we're going to know what he find."

---

rolled 11 using 1d20+5.  Perception

Lenelle whispered under her breath, and made a brief gesture.  And then did something she rarely did.    Stepped up -- calling attention to herself:

"People of Deadwater!   Hear me!  The man who appeared outside your gates and appeared to be Joshua's brother, was not Jason Redfern!  The real Jason was back in the druid's grove at that time, with no knowledge of what took place!   Someone possesses the ability to alter their appearance, or change their form!   Someone with a vested interest in directing others away from their own evil!"

She paused, letting it sink in, continued --  "My friends and I pledge to you, we will rescue Phoebe from whomever has her, and see them brought to justice!  If that truly be Sheila Blackmoor, then so be it!   But, I beg you, all of you -- jump to no conclusions!   This enemy is cunning and deceptive!  And we must make certain the true perpetrator is exposed, and stopped!"

Lenelle Toreth rolled 3 using 1d4.  guidance.
Lenelle Toreth rolled 15 using 1d20+5.  Persuade. Total check = 18

Sundos stepped up next to Lenelle and spoke to the crowd. "Brothers, Sisters! It is as Lenelle says. There is a great evil out in the swamp. As of yet, the source of that evil is still shielded from us. Just this morning, we all thought Jason Was the source of evil. In the name of Pelor, I too testify that he is not evil. He is a holy druid, working hard to protect the Land.

"We will find the missing girl and stop this evil. Do not lose faith in Pelor. The Deceiver wants us to turn on each other. Stay calm. Take your concerns and questions to Sister Mercion. These are dark times. But Pelor's Light still shines on us. Please return to your homes, use your faith and prayers to aid us find the girl."

Laredon had to hold back Miriam from slapping Azatch. The wiry woman’s arms flailed as she tried in vain to break free. “Be still, Miriam! He’s the size of an oak tree, you’d be lucky if he didn’t throw you into the river for the crocodiles for such nerve!” Luckily, Lenelle’s plea slowly worked on the villagers. Although still agitated, many still trusted the beautiful Half-Elf and the friendly Priest of Pelor. “Heed the Elf-blooded Lady. She shows good sense, and her companions saved us from the ghoul hordes. We’ve not seen them since the night Cela & Simon faced them down! Let’s listen to them.”

Sister Mercion attempted to soothe the distraught Miriam. “Your daughter was found unharmed. Pelor willing, these heroes will return little Phoebe safe and sound, too. Please. Come with me to the Temple and I will lead us in prayer for her safety.” Perhaps she deliberately avoided any mention of her own traveling companion, Pockets, who’d also gone missing.

While the humans discussed their options, Grog looked for anything he could track. He only found small footprints likely left by the girls and Pockets. It seemed that whatever the three encountered met them further out in the swamp.

Meanwhile, Azatch felt one of the Druid-dogs butt his leg with her head. When he looked up, he and Skye saw Georg and Connor break from the search party with a third watchman. They furtively stalked off in the swamp, obviously proceeding on their own to Sheila’s cabin…

Azatch swatted Grog and Skye and pointed with his chin at the disappearing townsfolk.

"I'm going to go stop those idiots. Grog you come with me and Skye can start tracking with the others?"

Sundos placed his hand on Lenelle's elbow. He quietly said, "Can you go with Azatch and Grog? Try to avoid bloodshed. Can you cast Sleep again?"

In a louder voice to Azatch and Grog, "Try to avoid bloodshed. Use your wits first. Then fists before weapons." He held up his bare fists in a 'fighting pose'.

"The sooner we get back with the girl, the sooner things will calm down here."

Lenelle considered Sundos' request.

Firstly she said, "I think you may be confusing me with Tara, or perhaps Simon.  Sleep spells are not in my repertoire.   My magic is extremes; it heals or harms, with little middle ground.  I...don't know.  I think splitting is a bad idea.  But I don't see there's a better option, unless the tracks lead to Sheila's cabin.   Tara is a better choice than me to end a confrontation without injury. And she knows Sheila as well."

Tara felt Gwyl’s talons gently squeeze her shoulder when Lenelle mentioned her connection with Sheila.

Grog followed Azatch. "Don't worry," he said over his shoulder. "We'll convince them that it would be better for them to stay in the village and protect those within." He carried the glaive over his shoulder.

"Yes, I can do that," said Tara.  "I'll go to protect Sheila; I have sleeping and webs at my disposal, as necessary.  That should stop anyone from getting hurt."

Skye looked on as the three men separated, making there own way to the cabin. She nodded at Grog. "Try not to beat them too bad.....try" She had a smile on her face as she spoke, then went about tracking again.

"Azatch get all tbe fun....come on, let's find this girl and fool" She clearly had some hope pockets yet lived.

 ..so she could smack him up on the head.

Azatch and Grog easily caught up with Georg and Conner, largely because the former was more adept at lifting a mug then navigating the swamp. Tara trailed behind the demihuman fighters, growing more concerned when she overheard Georg. “We’ll drag her back to Deadwater if need be. She’s likely to hang when Benny and Miriam get through bending the Magistrate’s ear! It’ll serve her right for the witchcraft and whoring!”

Cela kneels down in front of Elise.  "Hi,"  she says.  She waves. "Can I see the things that you had in your hand when we found you?  The hair and the cloth?"  Marigold and Thistle may be able to use them for tracking.  "And can you tell me, were you the Princess in the game, or were you Cela?"

Elise obediently handed over the piece of shirt to Cela, who’d gathered up the strands of red hair off the ground. “That’s from Mr. Pockets’ shirt.” Marigold picked up on Cela’s cue and nudged Thistle along with her. The Druid-dogs sniffed the cloth and started pacing restlessly.

While the dogs scampered for Skye &  Lenelle’s attention, Elise answered Cela’s question. “Um, Phoebe was playing you.” She cut a quick glance at Lenelle. Ducking her head, Elise fidgeted as she shyly said, “I played as Princess Lenelle.”

Skye nodded at Cela's quick thinking, and looked at the two druids. "Come on....Lets find that halfling twit." She muttered to the wolves, a slight smile on her face.  Despite her better judgement, she hoped to find the halfling well.

If only to slap him one for his stupidity.

She looked at Cela. "Cela....we gotta move."

The halfling then began following the wolves

"Well if Phoebe was Cela, that means she's very brave, and we're going to get her back.  And the magic flower too."  Cela stands up and brings the hair and the scrap of cloth to the wolves.

Lenelle wasn't ready to leave quite yet.  She too approached the girl:

"Elise...what were you and Phoebe doing in Mr. Pocket's company?   Why did you come out this way?"   

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 17):

When the trio caught up to Georg and Conner, Azatch called out: "Oi! Idiots! What are you two thinking you're going to do? The pair of you against someone who can summon undead after undead and control an undead spellcaster? You planning on asking nicely? Get your asses back home and let people with real strength and skill deal with this eh?"

In reply to Lenelle Toreth (msg # 22):

Elise watched Cela with unfiltered awe as the Tabaxi Monk strode gracefully toward Skye. Nearly all of Deadwater found her exotic and daring, regarding her with unparalleled respect for the way she’d defended Joshua and their town against the undead. That fascination expressed itself as hero worship among the children. Especially the children like Elise.

A similar sentiment lived in local hearts for Lenelle. Beautiful, kind, gracious, mannered, exotic in her own right, and possessed of considerable magical power. To children like Elise and Phoebe, it was like having a Fairytale Princess walking among them. Perhaps that’s why Elise blushed and sputtered when Lenelle questioned her next.

The child stared at the ground, her fidgeting showing a marked increase. “Um…we were playing make-believe. We, um, we pretended we, we pretended we were having an adventure like you and Miss Cela. It was daytime, so I thought it would be okay.”

Elise looked up at Lenelle with large eyes full of tears. “Mr. Pockets only came to make us go back home! He told us it was too dangerous, but…but…the Witch got him and Phoebe before he could take us home!

Oh, Mama!” The child sobbed and circled her arms around Miriam’s waist, Miriam sighed and looked at Lenelle with imploring eyes. “Your Ladyship, I know I’m not an easy woman to deal with. I know what they say about me…but surely my child doesn’t deserve to pay for my shortcomings. Won’t you please go confront…her? Surely that will bring an end to our troubles!”

"Nothing that happened is your fault, Elise.  If you hear anything I say, then hear that.   Nor Phoebe's or Pocket's.  And we will get her back -- I promise you."

"Aye," she then said to Miriam, glancing at the woman. "We shall do that."    Lenelle was far from certain that Sheila was behind this.   But thought it best to just tell Miriam what would sound like what she wanted to hear.

And with that, she was off following in the wake of the two trackers and the others.

In reply to Azatch (msg # 23):

Georg didn’t proceed any further, heeding the gruffness of a Half-Orc who stood nearly seven feet tall and was made of rippling muscle. Conner gawked at Azatch’s lower tusks and audibly gulped. Georg puffed up his chest. “Maybe so, if the Witch calls a horde of undead…maybe you two could use some help? That scrawny little woman with you would break in half.”

Azatch realized that Georg presented his own gruff front. The townie lacked the sheer menace of Azatch or Grog to back it up, though. Maybe it was the beer gut or the reluctant catch in his voice, but Azatch knew he wouldn’t need to lean too hard on the Watchman to make him turn tail back to town.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:51, Wed 18 Aug 2021.

Azatch laughed, "you're brave, I'll give you that Georg. That woman has more power in her pinky than you do in your whole body. She controls magic like Simon and others."

He slammed his javelin down into the soft turf of the swamp and shrugged off his pack. Then started shrugging out of his chain armor as he talked to the townsfolk. "Look, if you really want to come and die, I won't stop you I guess. At least you could be something to distract an undead or something until it kills you and then I can get to it."

As he talked and removed his armor Grog and Tara and the townsfolk could see a change coming over the half-orc's skin. It seemed to thicken, to harden in front of their eyes. "Ever since Deadwater made me feel unwanted, I've bonded with these lands and have been given strength. You have nothing to offer us except to distract a foe."

"Come then, die if you want or go back to town. But don't get in our way of saving the girl or I will kill you myself." Azatch tossed his armor at Conner, "Here, kid, take that. It might keep you alive for a few seconds more."

OOC: to be clear Azatch's AC without a Chainshirt is the same as with it now, so he's doffing his armor as a show of strength and intimidation. how they take it is up to them I guess.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:53, Wed 18 Aug 2021.

Tara frowned.  She wasn't at all sure about this approach, but... if it kept anyone from getting hurt, she'd take it.

Still, she stood by, ready to entrap the villagers if needed.  But, still, better if she didn't have to.

Conner accepted the armor with a reluctant smile. He exchanged a quick glance with Georg that hardly befit a death-defying. Then, the teen watchman shoved the chainshirt at Georg. “This was your big idea, Georg. I’m going back to Deadwater.”

As Conner rushed home, Georg gingerly held the armor. With a *humph*, he rushed after Azatch. “Um, here. You’ll probably need it against a Witch. The, um, village needs ALL watchmen…good day!” Georg dashed off after Conner, looking like a bow-legged frog.

Meanwhile, Cela held the cloth for Marigold & Thistle. Both sniffed, with the golden-furred dog barking and running toward the river. The darker dog barked and ran after her.

Miriam watched Lenelle walk off with a stern glare. Whether that was for Lenelle or for the woman they sought was uncertain. Connie, the red-haired bar patron, joined the Greaveses. “Oh, Miriam! This could have been a tragedy, thank Paaay-lor that the heroes found sweet Elise!”  She clutched them both into her full bosom in a smothering hug. As Miriam & Elise squirmed free, Connie nattered on. “Surely the Gods smiled on your little family today! I just hope that they’re as generous when those adventurers find the Witch.”

Connie smiled at Sundos. “I’ll see Miriam & Elise home.” She nudged the Greaves family back toward Deadwater with a solicitous smile. Miriam shooed the woman’s hands away, and walked briskly ahead with Elise. The child clutched the necklace that Lenelle saw Connie give her a day or two earlier.

Azatch laughed at Conner and Georg as they retreated. He took his doffed armor and shoved it into his pack and slung the pack back on his back.

"Well... let's get on with it then. Back to the others or find our own way to the witches cottage and assume they'll meet us there? Tara you should know the way pretty well since you were there before."

Cela follows quickly after the Druids, avoiding the townsfolk.

Lenelle was walking, but also listening to Connie.  Her cloying insincerity put the sorceress' teeth on edge.   She slowed.  Nearly stopped, and glanced back.

Was Sundos going to stay?  It was probably a very good idea to have somebody here.   The cleric was their primary healer, though now they had the druids, as well as the ring Lenelle had been given.  Still, she hesitated; and was half tempted to suggest to Sundos that he go with the group, and she stay in Deadwater.   Or even the two of them.  It was harder to take two by surprise, if something were to happen here...

But, she had just promised Elise, and Miriam, she would aid the others in recovering Phoebe.  Going back on her word would be deplorable.  Yet doing the right thing was what mattered.

And Lenelle clenched her teeth,feeling uncertain what that was, and like she was on the verge of the wrong choice, either way.

Tara gave a sigh of relief.

"We need to get moving," she said.  "There may be others, the type that prefers to act rather than brag about it."

She was particularly glad that she hadn't had to use magic to subdue them-- that was the kind of thing that could lead to later retaliation, and might just confirm their fears.

Half hating herself for it, Lenelle came to a decision.  If something happens to them, I won't forgive myself for not being there! 

They were powerful.  Likely, her own presence wouldn't be make or break.   Yet, the sort of belittling talk her father used to give her rang in her head:  'Fool girl! You never make the right choices!'   

Lenelle quashed that voice, and drew a breath.  She began walking off after the group, lagging slightly, but keeping pace for a time.  This last morning, shortly after dawn, only half awake, the words of a spell had glimmered in her mind.   One she had not cast before.   She cast it now, quietly as possible.

Cast Invisibility.

And abruptly faded from sight.  Unseen by any normal eyes, she started doubling back toward Deadwater.    Casting a glance backward at the party...

Farewell, my friends!  May all gods who care bless your path!

From the swamp in the distance, the call of Skye could be heard, shadowing the druids. "C'mon...get your asses moving before you miss all the fun."

Sundos looked undeterred by Connie. “If it’s all the same, Goodwoman Greaves may need help.” He smiled at Connie politely, but definitively. “At the very least, I can help you check little Elise for any injuries. If the child is unharmed, I will let them recover in peace.” He flashed a meaningful look at Mercion that he hoped his fellow Priest would understand.

Later…

Tara led Azatch’s crew back toward Sheila’s cabin. Along the way, Azatch thought he saw a Lizardman spying on them from the trees, but it turned out to be an alligator that treed a wildcat. The large cat remained out of reach, though. Otherwise, the hike was uneventful, if tense from the earlier interaction withe the villagers. Between a Hafl-Orc and a Minotaur, any predators knew better than to trifle with the party. Soon, they smelled the jasmine that they associated with Sheila’s land.

"Sheila?" Tara called as she approached the house.  "It's me, Tara!  Listen, I think someone's trying to get the locals mad at you, impersonating you and causing trouble!"

There was no need to hold back on that.  The details were important.

Azatch held his javelin at the ready while Tara tried to call out to Shiela.

He spread out away from Tara though just in case the witch was hostile and decided to try and blast the trio with some spell or something.

And he waited, those who'd known him for a bit like Grog could tell the half-orc as anxious because he kept looking around, searching the shadows for danger and trouble as they'd approached and also now as they waited.

Under the veil of invisibility, Lenelle made her back to where she'd last seen the Greaves, Connie, and Sundos.

In spite of the situation, somewhere within her was an adolescent enjoying the Hells out of this spell.  How many times had she wished she could vanish-?

She could just observe, without being regarded or singled out for any reason.   It was kind of nice.  Not that she'd want to get stuck this way...

Once she sighted them, she came just close enough to overhear the conversation.   And halted.   In particular, she watched Connie.  And if she left the others, then Lenelle planned to follow.

Sheila surfaced from a row of florid stalks in her herbal garden. She shouted her reply, as she stepped carefully around her herbs and flowers. “What are you on about?” The woman appeared confused. “What’s happening in the village to cause such fuss?”

"Someone wearing your face attacked a child," said Tara.  "Clumsily enough for the child to get free and tell all the adults to come looking for you.  The same thing happened to one of the druids recently-- someone is making trouble wearing the faces of others."

...which was, sadly, an easy enough trick to do.  She'd been able to do it herself for ages, but this was certainly not the time to bring that up.

Sheila’s eyes widened as she put her hand on her chest. Tara brought dire news that clearly alarmed the older woman. “A child was attacked?! Who is it? Is the child safe?!” At he moment, she appeared more concerned for the child then her own safety.

"I think so," said Tara, recounting what she'd seen and heard.

"There were two kids," Azatch chimed in from the side.

"Elise and Phoebe. Elise is safe with townsfolk. Phoebe's still missing... Pockets too. Blood and trail lead off this way."

"Pair of druids are with the rest of our group, we stopped a pair of idiot town guards who were coming to attack you straight out."

Sheila tried to present a calm front, but Azatch and Tara saw fear in her eyes as she processed the nears of the intended attack. “Old hatred never really dies, eh?” A shudder visibly passed through her, but she shook it off. The saltiness they’d seen in their last visit reappeared. “Well. If they intend to send a mob for me, I suppose I’d best prepare my house for guests!”

OOC:

Perception checks, please.

OOC: 14:28, Today: Azatch rolled 21 using 1d20+3.  Perception.

18:07, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 16 using 1d20+3 ((13)).

Perhaps his sheer height enabled him to see it. Azatch noticed something out of the corner of his eye fixed among the planks just above Sheila’s door. At first glance, it looked like a mud dauber nest. Azatch’s attention drew Tara’s gaze upward. Both noticed that the nest looked unusually large. Gwyl fidgeted on Tara’s shoulder when she looked at the nest. His talons hurt as he restlessly shifted side-to-side.

Azatch gripped his javelin... still not sure about this whole thing, but he stepped closer to look at the nest thing.

"What's that then Sheila? Wasn't here last time we were here..." he asked as he pointed at the nest with his javelin.

Tara had Gwyll move next to it, and simply looked through her familiar's eyes to examine it closely.  This might be important...

Grog took a position at the perimeter. He position seemed to be that of protection but it also gave a flanking position should he close the distance. "I'll keep a watch. But I'll stay close."

---

rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Perception

Prior experience in the last few days honed Azatch and Tara’s eyes for detail in their surroundings. They both maintained a vigilance that attuned them to things that seemed out of place. The “mud dauber nest” looked husky out of place, especially when Sheila said, “What is that doing there?! I’ve never had mud daubers here!”

Gwyl flapped his wings and crossed the distance to the door with one rapid swoop. The familiar gingerly poked his beak near the nest, taking care with a meticulousness too thorough for an ordinary bird. After a closer look, the owl reared his head back defensively. “HOOT!” His wings flapped and he flew out of Azatch’s way.

When Azatch poked the nest, it fell to the ground and cracked. Inside the broken layer of dried mud, they saw wisps of wiry black hair poking through. Grog didn’t notice, as something near the treelike caught his eye…

"What the hells is that? Another of those doll things to use on Sheila?" Azatch asked as he pointed at the hair.

The hairs seemed to indicate so, but Azatch would need to remove more hardened mud to find out.

Azatch looked at the thing and not knowing much about magic tried to crack a little bit more of the caked mud around the areas not yet cracked with the back side of the javelin.

To be safe... he held his breath while he did it, then stepped away a bit to look at the results.

"Oi, Tara, want to get your mage hand and scissors thing ready just in case?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:18, Tue 14 Sept 2021.

Azatch scraped away the mud with the tip of his javelin. He confirmed his suspicion by uncovering another doll. This doll had wisps of Black hair that obviously belonged to Sheila. A strip of burlap wrapped around where the mouth would be on Sheila. Tara saw sigils drawn with similar nefarious intent as the dolls that targeted Blackthorn and his leader. Sheila screamed in horror and repulsion when she saw the doll, making it clear that she recognized the type of item. “Why is that evil thing on my home?!”

"The fiends who torment this community are everywhere, it seems," said Tara, standing by to cut the hairs from the doll.

"I'm surprised you haven't come down sick yet..."

“A necromancer or corrupted shaman would create such a hateful thing. You’ve seen these in Deadwater…?” Sheila frowned when she observed the sigils. “Examine the symbols and tell me what you see.”

OOC:

It’s time for an Arcana check. Azatch, you can make a Nature check for the herbs you see.

 

OOC:
22:51, Today: Azatch rolled 8 using 1d20.  Nature check.

Arcana 11

Tara read through the symbols fumblingly, trying to somehow read them without touching the hateful thing.

Avoiding skin contact, Azatch bent down and looked at the doll. He noticed a yellowish mold on the strip of rag, but couldn’t identify it. Tara rightly realized the danger of touching the mold, too. Several of the sigils looked unfamiliar, but she deduced the intent of this particular doll. The poppet was intended to silence Sheila.

Tara described what she could.

"...I think it's supposed to silence you," she said.  "One way or another.  I guess they didn't trust the lynch mob to finish the job."

She privately noted that hair was a common thread to these attacks, and began to tie her own up carefully.  Best to provide fewer opportunities.

OOC:

Tara, what do you do with the doll?

Grog, are you going to check that out?

Azatch, what do you do next?

Azatch held his breath and continued to try and free the mommett from the mud caking so Tara could snip the hair.

Once he'd done that, Azatch faced out from the hut and looked for anyone who might be watching the hut and ready to use the power of the mommett.

When Azatch glanced away, he saw Grog eyeing something off near the tree line.

Azatch whispered to Tara and Sheila as discreetly as possible, "oi! What's that shimmer over that way that Grog's lookin' at?"

Sheila shielded her eyes from the sun with her hands. “Dragonflies like the Magnolias.” She frowned. “Tho’ it looks too big to be a dragonfly.” Azatch & Tara noticed that Sheila’s voice sounded clearer, less raspy, less likely to suffer any coughing fits.

"...interesting," said Tara.  "Keep an eye on it.  I'm going to remove the hair, first and foremost."

She set out to shave the doll.  She wasn't going to take a chance with Sheila's health!

Once more, Tara’s slender fingers deftly clipped the wisps of Sheila’s hair from the poppet. With each hair removed, Sheila breathed easier. Tara sensed that this particular doll wasn’t intended to render Sheila sick. Her mentor was too guarded against such an attack. The best the unseen menace could manage was a curse that restrained her speech.

"Come on Grog," Azatch whispered to the minotaur. "Let's check it out, but split up and flank it just in case."

With that, Azatch started edging around the right flank of the iridescence while hoping Grog went to the left. Seen too much weird and dangerous stuff to think this is something good, he thought to himself.

Azatch flanked whatever lurked near the magnolia tree from the right. Grog lumbered in from the left flank, but stopped short when he accidentally stepped in one of Sheila’s flower beds. As a farmer, the Minotaur respected people who worked the land. He chided himself, and gave his Barbarian companion time to close the gap.

The Magnolias still bloomed, perfuming the air with a heady sweetness. Here on Sheila’s small homestead was a serenity that Azatch never knew growing up. The woman had cultivated a solitary life for herself as capably as she’d cultivated herbs and flowers. If what lurked in the trees threatened that peace, Azatch might share his thoughts about it.

As Azatch grew closer, he heard a high-pitched buzzing that indeed reminded him of the dragonflies he’d often seen as a boy. He tread carefully, but when he closed upon the source, what he found wasn’t a dragonfly at all! A tiny humanoid fluttered on sparkled wings. He was dressed in brightly covered flower petals that formed a colorful half-tunic. Faerie dust glittered around the woodland creature. ”Oh!” His voice sounded like a tiny squeak, surprise registered on his diminutive face.

”Friend of Elf-Blood Princess, yes?”

"How do you feel, Mistress Sheila?" Tara asked.  "And can you tell us more now?  You should be free of this power, now."

It was, after all possible-- even likely-- that the purpose of the spell had been to stop her from sharing important information that she had... but stopping her from defending herself from the mob would also make sense, and perhaps was intended to obscure the trail of the victims of this curse-maven.

Sheila touched her throat, and when she spoke, her voice sounded clearer and richer. “I feel as though you lifted a great weight from my chest.” She gently touched Tara’s shoulder, smiling down with gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Tara. Thank you for coming back here to warn me and for freeing me from the power of that accursed doll.”

Then, Sheila withdrew her hand. Her back straightened, the warm smile ebbing and yielding to a fire that blazed in her dark eyes. “Surely that poppet was crafted to silence me, and stop me from sharing what I know. To stop me from speaking against Benny for murdering my man. To silence me from sharing my suspicions about her.”

Well, only one thing could be said now.

"Who is 'HER'?" Tara asked.

When Tara asked, Sheila fixed her eyes with unwavering contact. “The new one. She showed up before the troubles began.  Before Miriam’s husband disappeared in the Swamp. Before the plague that killed too many. Before the dead walked again.”

She accentuated her words as though each were a dagger as she listed the woes of Deadwater. Although her voice was soft, it bristled with quiet rage. “Oh, she acted the friend to Deadwater folk. Always laughing, flirting, prying with questions about our lives. I didn’t share my life so freely with her.

Perhaps that’s why she stoked the most fervent of my accusers. Ever ready with a sly comment or question to accompany that sweet smile. Twas the next full moon after they laid Goodman Greaves in the ground when I caught her taking little Elise into the Swamp. Had a few choice words for her. I confronted her, took the child back and would have brought her before the Baron himself.

But she twisted it. Turned the facts around and made ME look the kidnapper! I barely escaped the Hangman’s noose. Spent every year since out here.” Sheila’s eyes seemed far away as she spoke of the past. Then, she looked back into Tara’s eyes. “Til the night the storm ran your new companions aground near Deadwater. Remember the tea leaves? The portents warned me that your path would cross theirs of necessity.

I’d intended a journey back to Deadwater, come whatever would happen. With you. Except She waited near the edge of my property. And I saw the sheer spite in her eyes…and she said she’d come for you. My humble Craft was strong enough to keep her from you…but not enough to stop her from cursing me with that foul thing.

She hates them all, and means them great harm.”

Tara paused.  And cleared her throat.

"Yes, Mistress.  I understand what you're saying... but who do you mean?  I don't know the person that you're talking about."

“The red-haired one who always clung on young Joshua Redfern, and fed malicious gossip to easily influenced villagers. The one who slandered me, Jason, and your own Warlock.” Sheila nearly bristled as she rattled off the offenses faster than Skye could fire an arrow. “Connie.”

In reply to The Dungeonmaster (msg # 72):

Azatch looked at the flying fae thing and cocked his head.

He felt no need now to be quiet so he said in a full voice, "elf-blooded princess? Lenelle?"

"What's happening with her?"

The diminutive sprite fluttered rapidly, nodding nervously at the gargantuan Barbarian. ”The Princess lingered where the Big Ones dwell. She’s in danger! Nasty Woman & Nasty Child will surely hurt her! The Nasty Woman hurts all she encounters…and works for one even worse than her! O’ please save her! The fate of the Big Ones and the Tiny Court alike depends on her!”

Azatch called out, "uhh Tara? Sheila? There's a Fey over her saying Lenelle is in danger. Some nasty woman and nasty child something?"

"She stayed where the big ones live. You mean Deadwater the town? I thought they were headed here."

The little Fey shook his head. ”No no no. She stayed behind in the Big One village. The Princess used her powerful glamours to spy on the Nasty Woman, but the Nasty Woman and her friend caught her. She’ll take the Princess to see Granny Grim, but no one ever comes back!

Please, you must save her!”

Azatch quickly relayed what the little fey creature said to it, "Hey, do you know the path to this granny grim person from Deadwater? If they've left already I'd like to catch them on the path, or come on them as they're headed from Deadwater on the path."

"Sheila ok? If so, we need go back to Deadwater. Lenelle was spying on someone and got caught. Something about taking her to see Granny Grim or something like that." he called out to the ladies.

“Tara, come!” Sheila gathered up her skirts and rushed toward Azatch with a surprising spryness. When she arrived, she looked up at Azatch & Grog with a face full of worry. “If this ‘Granny Grim’ is who—or what—I think she is, your friend faces grave danger! We will use the information you provided us,” Sheila told the Fey. “If you have the means, and the willingness, please fly ahead and keep an eye on the Princess. I must give these brave travelers a few tools that they’ll need when they rescue the Princess.”

”Aye! Flutterwing will go watch the Princess! Look near the darkest parts of the Swamp along the river. There, you find Granny Grim’s house!”

Sheila nodded and ushered Azatch, Grog, & Tara back toward her own house. The gesture seemed almost brusque, even ungrateful, for one who’d just shared dire news of their friend’s predicament. Sheila walked stridently without even a backward glance at the Fey. “Never thank the Fey. If you remember nothing else that I’ve told you, remember that much. The Feykind see thanks as an insult…or as an acknowledgment of debt.”
This message was last edited by the player at 18:23, Mon 20 Sept 2021.

Tara nodded, acknowledging the warning.  It was time to move, and there wasn't time for more preparation... she had to hope that she was as ready as she could be.  There was nothing else to do.

Azatch looked from the departing fey to Sheila as she got back to her crotchety old self and shrugged.

"Come on Grog, let's see what Sheila's got and then see if we can't save Lenelle and kill folks who are really behind all this in the first place..."

When Sheila reached her house, she dashed indoors. “Come along, now!” She snatched three corked vials and handed them to Tara. “Here. When you left for the Grove, I felt moved to brew these for you and your friends. I’d only the time to brew three potions that will Cure Wounds. Save them for a moment of greatest need.”

Then, Sheila rushed over toward an old wooden chest. She threw open the lid and rummaged the contents. When she found what she wanted, she waved Azatch over with an impatient flourish. “Help me up. My knees aren’t what they used to be, even with my tonics.” When he helped her to her feet, Sheila handed Azatch a round stone. The surface felt rough in his hands. In the center of the Stone was a hole.

“Hide this while you carry it. Do not let our enemies know you have it! If you face what I fear awaits you, you will need it for clarity of Sight. Choose the moment wisely.”

Then, Sheila grasped Tara’s shoulders. A smile of pride shone on her face, but underneath the approval was concern. The worry a Mentor felt for her Protege. Perhaps even the kind of worry a mother held for her child. “Tara, I have taught you what I know. Once again, I must send you out into the world to face danger. If what you find is what I suspect you will face…remember that the life you have lived may be your greatest weapon against them

Now, go. May the Goddess guide you.”

After he helped Sheila to her feet, Azatch took the stone and crinkled his face in confusion but shrugged.

"So... I look through it but don't let them know I'm looking through it?" he asked as he tucked the stone away into his belt pouch to keep it safe and hidden, then he stepped back to let Tara and Sheila have their goodbye moment again.

He seemed eager to get going and save their other companions, but he knew more than anyone the power of goodbyes, so he waited.

"Sounds simple. I like that. Much better than mysteries."

---

Grog has 3 potions of healing on his character sheet, are those still in play?

In reply to Grog (msg # 89):

OOC:

Yes, you should still have them.

“Just hide the Stone until you need it,” Sheila said with a chuckle. “Now, go. Your friend needs you.”

Azatch nodded and tucked it away deeper.

"Ok, let's go Grog, Tara." Without looking backward, Azatch set out at a fast trot back toward the city, hoping to catch up to Connie or whoever was trying to hurt Lenelle.

While they walked, Azatch’s group felt sprinkles of rain. Overhead, the sky showed a storm front forming just south of them. Gwyl hooted and flew toward the storm, heading in the opposite direction from Deadwater!

"Gwyll?" said Tara.  "Where are you going?  Are-- is that the direction we should go in?"

She tried her link to communicate with her familiar.  This looked too important to overlook.

Telepathic conversation with her familiar was still new territory to Tara. However, her tentative contact yielded a quick result. Tara found that despite the newness, she felt quickly accustomed to this new method of communication.

In her mind, Tara heard the distinct “voice” that she immediately recognized as Gwyll. Follow. Find.

"This way," said Tara.  "Follow me!"

She wasn't sure what she could trust in this place of face-stealers and shape-shifters, but she knew down to her soul that Gwyll, at least, would not betray her.

Azatch looked at Tara and then around as she said she would lead the way. He paused to take stock of he surroundings, feeling at ease in the slight rain.

He gripped the new javelin, took a deep breath and followed with a nod. "You sure about following your bird? If so, sure, let's go."

Was that a man’s scream that Azatch heard off in the distance?

"Come on, I can hear someone screaming..." Azatch said as he picked up the pace.

"I thought we were looking for Granny and Connie and Lenelle? That did not sound like a woman screaming."

Nonetheless, the minotaur matches the half-orc's speed.

As the group ran even faster, they heard an ominous rumbling of thunder. The sky flared as lightning struck less than an eight of a mile away!

Grog is blinded for a moment as the lightning bolt struck ahead.

"Let me guess, Azatch. We're now chasing the lightning?"

"Pray it's not chasing us," said Tara grimly as she ran.

Azatch skidded to a stop as the lightning flashed down so near to the group.

He growled and shrugged and then continued to run, "no idea. Probably whoever is responsible for all this is trying to attack us or keep us from getting to our companion."

As Azatch spoke, lightning grazed a cypress tree just ahead of the trio! The tree limb cracked and fell in their path. Azatch thought he heard Skye cry out from where the lightning was the worst. Wind blew around them, swaying the tree limbs and loose debris. A sky the color of iron portended worse things ahead…
This message was last updated by the GM at 05:42, Fri 01 Oct 2021.

"Damn it!" Azatch swore, he looked around to see if he could see someone that the lightning WAS targeting even though it hadn't attacked them yet, or if he could see someone who was directing the lightning to put his new javelin through.

For some reason, Azatch felt the danger of this situation more keenly now and went into a rage that the elements would threaten his companions and him when the druids were on THEIR side now. And where are those druids?? he thought to himself about the pair that'd been with the other group even as a tail sprouted from his back as the rage of nature at being misused flowed through him.

OOC: entering rage just in case and also growing his tail out.

Azatch’s answer came in the form of a golden-furred dog that leapt from the bushes. The dog panted as she ran up to Azatch and stood on her hind legs, with her front paws pressed against the barbarian’s lower chest, Then, the dog’s fur flowed like water as she shifted into Marigold! The Druid slumped into Azatch. “She killed him! She killed Thistle, and she’ll…kill your friends, too, if you don’t hurry!”

"WHERE?" Grog growls; his glaive spinning in his hand.

Before Marigold could answer Grog, Gwyll burst from the trees at top flight! The Owl swooped near Tara, carrying a tawny colored cat in his talons “*HOOT*! *HOO-OOT*!” He descended at Tara’s feet, laying a sleeping cat gently on the ground before his mistress. Then, her Familiar took back to the air in a frantic circle around the group, before he flew back in the other direction…

The confused cat looks up at Tara.  "Murr?" it chirps inquisitively before closing its eyes again.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:46, Mon 04 Oct 2021.

"What the hells and where is this SHE?" Azatch screamed as Marigold told them of the danger.

"And who's that cat?"

"Cela," answered Tara.  "We must be careful; this foe clearly has terrible magics.  Let's hurry."

Heeding her informed hunch, Tara followed her Familiar toward the site of the attack. Marigold pointed in the direction that Gwyll took. “She’s there,” she said, trembling with a fear that left her nearly crippled. “She gassed us with a potion that made us afraid. She’s so strong, too. Please be careful!”

OOC:

Marigold is under an effect similar to the Fear spell. She’s gonna be useless for now.

Does anyone follow Tara?

Grog was getting tired of the confusion - first they were chasing screaming women, then an owl, then lightning, and now a cat?

"Enough!" the minotaur shouts, as if to clear his head and he sprints in the direction that Marigold points.

I believe I'm being carried by Tara.  Am I still asleep too?

The commotion of rushing through a dense copse of swamp shrubbery and trees interrupted the lovely tabby’s nap. A grumpy Cela Kitty woke up under Tara’s arm.

Azatch nodded and followed Grog, though he kept to the flank of the charging bullman and a bit to the side to avoid getting them both caught in some kind of magic attack.

He followed Marigold's directions and Tara run as well for direction.

"Hey, if you kill Cela will she turn back into herself and then we can give her a potion or something? I've heard stories that people turn back to themselves when they die in different forms. Maybe I'm thinking of werewolves...." he called to Tara who held Cela.

Our heroes pushed aside low-hanging tree limbs as they dashed toward the site of the attack. Luckily, the storm gradually cleared up. They wouldn’t need to fear any lightning strikes. They merely needed to fear the old woman that they saw stuffing Skye into a bag. There was no sign of Simon. Gwyll circled overhead, calling out with urgent hoots.

The crone looked up from her bag with a snaggle-toothed sneer. “Ahhh, yes! The rest of the children come to play with Granny! Well, I’m sorry my dears, but play time is over!” She plucked a small vial filled with a viscous umber liquid. The woman uncorked it and swigged the entire potion in one gulp! Then, “Granny” cut loose with a bench that spewed a noxious cloud that rapidly covered the immediate area!

Grog rolled 16 using 1d20+5 for CON save vs Stinking Cloud.

Cela hisses at the old woman.

Do I need to roll for the save?

In reply to Cela (msg # 120):

OOC:
Yes.

Tara coughed and gagged.  So bad!

22:06, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 12 using 1d20+3 ((9)).  Oh, dear...

23:12, Today: Cela rolled 4 using 1d20.  Con.

Azatch was caught off-guard by the sudden spew of fumes, and rather than hold his breath, he did the exact opposite and breathed deeply of them. Which caused his stomach to rebel in a unique and novel way, spilling out its contents even as he stumbled forward toward the evil witch's sounds.

OOC: I effing hate online die rollers.
09:05, Today: Azatch rolled 7 using 1d20+5.  Con save vs. Stinking Cloud

Stinking cloud takes up action, but not move, so Azatch would keep moving forward to try and reach the woman.

The stinking cloud spread at least forty feet wide and enveloped the party! Tara attempted to hold her breath, but couldn’t escape the stench. The young witch coughed and gagged. Azatch rashly breathed in the cloud, attempting to power through defiantly. Instead, the Barbarian’s stomach defied his will in a stream of vomit that barely missed Tara’s back! Cela gagged and hacked up a hairball at Azatch’s feet.

Luckily, Grog withstood the olfactory foulness! The Minotaur bristled, but he’d smelled worse. Grog peered into the cloud, making out the old witch’s movement. He saw her retreating deeper into the swamp, carrying off Skye & Simon as her captives…

Tara staggered after her.  If nothing else, Gwyll's senses could guide her until she recovered...

Grog sniffs at the air, wondering why his companions were puking.

He realises that the old crone is too far away so he scoops up the cat, that Tara insists is Cela and grabs Tara by the arm, and pulls herforward, out of the cloud.

---

I was really hoping to go all large-sized, rune knight on the crone, but apparently 90 feet is too far away!!

Helping Tara move, if needed.

Gwyll flew above the cloud, watching the crone with a hunter’s eye. Tara received an image of the crone ducking underneath hickory branches and brushing aside thick moss. Grog remained unbothered and carried Tara and Cela-Cat toward the path their foe took. The path narrowed where the swamp grew even darker. Around them, the humidity pressed on them like an overwhelming embrace.

Azatch, since his stomach had nothing left to empty, stumbled after Grog and Tara through the haze of the noxious cloud.

He did his best to keep up...

Tymora favored them when they were forced to traverse the swamp through the stinking cloud. The cloud lost considerable potency once “Granny” fled. Tara remembered that the spell required a witch’s concentration. She surmised that since this instance involved a potion duplicating the effects, that the duration expired more quickly. Azatch noticed that it smelled like rotten eggs, but in most cases, flatulence wouldn’t kill him.

They tore through the denser woods, and it seemed as though the woods tore back. Branches lashed at their skin. Roots seemed to jut up at inopportune moments, nearly tripping them. Mosquitoes and gnats flit even more aggressively near any orifice left exposed on the face.  Not like the defenses outside Blackthorn’s Grove, but Tara and Grog still sensed a supernatural undercurrent at work. As if the portion of the Swamp they traversed reflected the ill will of the witch they tracked.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:31, Fri 08 Oct 2021.

Cela stays in Tara's hand or on Tara's shoulder, not wanting to fall into water that now involves swimming instead of a brief step.  Any sounds she make sound like those of a normal cat.

"...her power is in the swamp," said Tara.  "It's fighting us.  Be careful!"

"Yes, but we cannot fight the swamp so we will fight her!"

The minotaur continues to barrel forward, trying to break a trail for the others.

Azatch nodded at Grog and charged behind him and to the right tearing through the grasping vines and terrain that was fighting back against them.

Grog led the party through the hostile swamp terrain. Tara sensed that any magic in the land there wasn’t overt, but the result of gradual corruption by the Witch that they pursued. Her malice permeated every root, limb, leaf, and rock of the Swamp they traversed. Their feet sank up to their ankles in black mud that clung like an earthen fist. Gwyll swooped overhead, goading them on with persistent hoots. Azatch saw the black robe of the old woman in the distance, ducking into a dense row of bushes.

Several minutes later, they made their way though the mud toward those bushes. Azatch took the lead and hacked the worst of the brush away for his companions. When they emerged from the bushes, they found the river. An old wooden bridge led across the slow waters to an islet, where an enormous old oak tree stood. The tree was long dead, the bark looked like grayish wooden scales. Gnarled limbs twisted and stretched over the islet like deformed arms. The bridge encircled the tree, where they saw an enormous old cottage atop a platform built into the upper level of a trunk the size of a fortress.

Azatch & Cela saw the old witch enter the cottage with her bagged captives in tow…

Grog stops at the bridge. He reaches into his belt pouch and pulls out a smaller pouch. He dips a finger and thumb into the small pouch, three times, and sprinkles what appears to be dust onto the river.

The water on the river seems to vanish for a moment before being filled in by the current. The minotaur then picks up what look like three small beads.

He hands one bead to Tara and one to Azatch.

"Smashing the bead will make a huge amount of water appear. I think smashing it above the crone might wreak havoc on her!"

---

Three actions (18 seconds) to use three pinches of Dust of Dryness.

"Thank you," said Tara.  She gave hers to Gwyll.

"...they may make trouble for us, as well.  I think I'll start with spells."

Azatch chuckled and took the bead from Grog and tucked it into his belt.

"I can always smash it over her while I stab her in the eye..."

"Ready?" he asked as he looked across the bridge to the massive building hidden here deep in the swamp.

Cela just looks at Azatch and says "Mow"

The dust instantly sucked up massive volumes of water before sealing into three beads. After Grog handed out the beads, Azatch noticed the layout of the lair. It was indeed set up in a way that hid it from the swamp. Their trail dipped down a small bluff toward the riverbank. The trees nearby created enough cover that the causal passerby would only notice the utmost crown of the massive dead oak. What Azatch could see of the river on the opposite side of the islet showed a riverbank with trees that reached toward the sky and a few smaller sandbars, before the river expanded to a raging width. Boats would likely avoid the rougher waters over there.

The only sounds they heard were the river babbling and the croaks of bullfrogs. The swamp surrounding the islet seemed to swallow any sunlight. Whether it was nature or witchcraft at work was a fair question. The bridge stretched ahead toward the oak.

OOC: What do you all do next?

Grog spins his glaive as he looks to Azatch, "Ready? One at a time...just in case."

The minotaur then jogs across the bridge.

"I suppose we've no choice but the boats," said Tara.  "Although... are any of you skilled enough to avoid the obvious path?  She's crafty.  I wouldn't trust her to not set traps there."

OOC:

I need Perception Rolls from Azatch, Cela, Grog, & Tara.

Cela roll on Advantage.

15:27, Today: Cela rolled 20 using 2d20+3, dropping the lowest dice only with rolls of 11,17.  perception (cat stats).

15:33, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 8 using 1d20+3 ((5)).

Grog rolled 21 using 1d20+3 for Perception check.

Although he primarily focused on melee combat, Grog still knew about Magic. Particularly infusing objects with magical power. The skills that enabled him to empower his Runes sensed the power coursing through the Tree. His senses were therefore alert when he sensed an immediate threat that Cela also detected.

Cela sensed it through mundane means, rather than mystic intuition. Her cat ears pricked up at the subtle crackling nearby. A soft growl rumbled in her throat when she felt an unnatural chill approach!

Unfortunately, Azatch and Tara remained unaware of that danger. Suddenly, an eerie glow manifested in front of the Barbarian & Wizard! Two orbs of blue-green light hovered near them, releasing a spark that shocked Tara! The sudden appearance of two Will O’ The Wisps startled Azatch, but he reflexively dodged the electrical attack!

OOC:

15:20, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 1d20+4.  Attack Azatch.
15:20, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  Attack Tara.
15:13, Thu 14 Oct: Secret Roll: The Dungeonmaster rolled 22 using 1d20+9.  Stealth.

Tara cried out in pain!

Init is 19

Grog notices the Will o' the wisps, but is taken aback by their alien nature that he hesitates before taking action.

Seeing Tara shocked by the strange creature, Grog bellows a battle cry and visibly grows in size as he charges into the fray, taking a swipe at the closest foe with his glaive.

---

Grog rolled 5 using 1d20+2 for Initiative. That's right...rolled a 3!

Activate Giant's Might: bonus action; grow to large size; ADV on STR checks and saving throws; add 1d6 once per turn.

Grog rolled 14 for 11 damage plus 3 damage for glaive attack, damage, and giant's might damage (if attack was successful).

15:52, Today: Cela rolled 19 using 1d20+4.  init.

Cela almost knows better, but the moving glowing ball is mesmerizing and in the new cat form she needs to pounce on it.

She jumps onto the glowing ball (yes this will probably hurt) and swipes at it with her much more diminutive claws.

15:52, Today: Cela rolled 19 using 1d20+4.  init.
15:57, Today: Cela rolled 18 using 1d20+2.  attack.
Burning a ki point to hit it as much as possible
15:58, Today: Cela rolled 10 using 1d20+2.  flurry of blows 1.
15:58, Today: Cela rolled 3 using 1d20+2.  flurry of blows 2.

The time for subtlety was done-- Tara spoke words in a strange language, and unleashed a clap of thunder that engulfed the strange creatures!  That might well soften them up...

Casting Shatter. 23:50, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 18 using 3d8 ((5,8,5)).
So 18 Thunder damage, DC 13 Con save for half.

Azatch reflexively stabbed out at the orb that had hurt Tara while he let his rage take over his body. A massive tail grew out of his backside which he still didn't really understand, but instinctively knew how to use.

"Watch out!" he cried out to her, but something about this place seemed to make him move in slow motion as others reacted to the threat far more quickly than he did.

Init: 8
BA: rage
Action: reckless attack one that attacked Tara
 - hit AC 27, Crit
 - Damage: 15 magical piercing
Reaction: if necessary tail deflection
 - minus 8 to an attack roll

13:42, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 8 using 1d20+2.  Initiative .
13:44, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Advantage for Javelin attack.
13:44, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 11 using 1d20+7.  Javelin vs. Orb that hurt Tara.
13:45, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 13 using 2d6+5.  Javelin damage. +2 FROM RAGE = 15

Fascinated by the glowing orb, Cela pounced on the one that attacked Tara! Although her fur bristled from the static, she nimbly dodged full body contact. However, the Monk’s mind still ruled the domestic cat’s body. Cela knew the secret of accessing her Ki, regardless of her physical form. Summoning her spiritual power, Cela swatted at the Will O’ The Wisp near Tara in a rapid flurry of paws! The cat’s claws perforated the orb, which shimmered from the attack!

Tara spoke the language of Magic, casting a Shatter spell! A clap of thunder nearly deafened everyone present. The magical release shook and battered the pair of Will O’ The Wisps. The Orb attacked by Cela snuffed out of existence, but her spell was not powerful enough to finish off both undead nuisances.

The remaining Will O’ The Wisp glowed even more brightly, momentarily blinding everyone present in a 20’ radius. The spots in their eyes would wear off soon, but the evil spirit created enough of a distraction for one final act of petty malice. The Orb floated near Tara and zapped her with electrical energy!

Luckily, Azatch didn’t need his eyes. The power of the Javelin seemed to guide the Barbarian toward his target! Azatch jabbed the point of his enchanted weapon into the Will O’ The Wisp and obliterate the evil thing. The last of the witchlights faded, leaving a confused Grog fumbling on a missed attack.

OOC:

14:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 20 using 1d20.  CON save.
14:42, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 4 using 2d8.  Lightning damage.
14:40, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  Will O’ The Wisp attack.
14:34, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 14 using 1d20+4.  Will O’ The Wisp attack.
14:33, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 11 using 1d20+9.  Will O’ The Wisp Initiative.

Tara, take 4 more damage.
Grog, you’ll still be Enlarged.


This message was last edited by the GM at 19:01, Fri 22 Oct 2021.

Before the party could recover from the encounter with the Will O’ The Wisps, they heard a booming voice: "FRIENDS! OGRE and a GOLEM of FLESH COME FOR YOU! Ware!"

Azatch looked at Grog as the shouting voice of Sundos echoed through the swamp, "try to push it off the walk into the water?"

"Tara, can you focus on the ogres?"

"I'll try," said Tara, but she frowned.  Ogres were bad business... Still, she ought to be able to disable an ogre or two without too much trouble.

"Sounds like a good plan," Grog says as he looks about to locate the foes that Sundos warned were coming.

---

Grog and Azatch are on the islet, are we not? What about Tara?

OOC:
Yes, you’re all on the Islet bridge. You’re within 30 feet of the weird Witch House.


Immediately following Sundos’ desperate warning, a hidden burst open between Grog and the strange Witch House! The party heard the boards groan under the weight of two hulking Ogres with mottled grayish-brown skin. They both held fearsome Greatclubs the size of sapling trees pierced with long spikes. As intimidating as that looked, though, what the second Ogre led by a chain chilled their blood.

An enormous brute resisted the Ogre, batting at the air with massive scaled arms! The heroes stared at a moving jigsaw puzzle of flesh and scale containing raw physical power and mindless destructive rage. Tara’s mouth fell open when she recognized the creature—a Flesh Golem, constructed of muscular Orcish arms, Lizardman torso, legs, and tail. Adorning this nightmarish construct was a familiar face…the mewling head of Georg, the late watchman of Deadwater!

“The Witches hate trespasses. Said to make you dead,” the lead Ogre said with a bored grunt. He raised his club as he moved between the House and the party…

How closely gathered are the various foes?

"...be wary," said Tara.  "They all hit hard, but that... that monstrosity will take a great deal indeed to bring it down."

A shame that her wand would be little use-- they'd doubtlessly tear through the webs as though they were nothing.

"...if we all combine our strength against one foe at a time, they'll fall all the faster," she added.

OOC: sorry, my theater of mind-fu is weak right now.

Are we on the map that is main game map or are we on our way to that map? Are the ogres/flesh golem coming single file or how wide is the map relative to character space/size?

OOC:

We have 2 maps. The first map shows your current location with the thatched roofs and bridge.

The Ogres & Flesh Golem can be reached on your action. They’ll definitely be moving toward you to make that even easier.

Making the assumption that means they are within 30 feet.

---

"That will prove very difficult!" Grog growls back, as he touches the rune on his armour.

The minotaur steps closer and swings his glaive at the lead ogre.

---

Reaction: invoke Stone Rune against ogre holding leash.
When creature you can see ends its turn within 30 feet, force the creature to make a WIS saving throw vs DC 13.

Unless the save succeeds, the creature is charmed for 1 minute; the creature has a speed of 0 and is incapacitated, descending into a dreamy stupor.

Creature repeats the saving throw at the end of each of its turns.

Move forward 20 feet until 10 feet from lead ogre.

Grog rolled 6 using 1d20+2 for initiative.

Grog rolled 18 using 1d20+6 for his glaive attack.
Grog rolled 14+6 = 20 using d10+4,d6 for glaive and giant's might damage.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:54, Wed 27 Oct 2021.

Init: 22:19, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 3 using 1d20+2 ((1)).

...I guess I'll post eventually...

The leading Ogre grunted and advanced toward Azatch! He raised his hefty Greatclub and swung wide at the Barbarian. His companion Ogre grinned with a mean gleam in his eye. He raised his javelin—and hurled it at Tara!

Behind them, George’s lifeless eyes lolled, his tongue hanging out as he mewled in a childlike whine. Guided by whatever malevolent force animated it, the Flesh Golem honed in on Azatch. The Golem growled as thickly muscled Orcish arms flailed! The first mighty fist struck Azatch, while the second missed.

Although the second Orc appeared pleased at skewering the petite Witch, his smile drooped when the Minotaur reacted with a powerful Stone Rune. His displeasure froze in place when Grog slashed his brother Ogre’s torso with his glaive!

OOC:

14:13, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 11 using 2d6+4.  Javelin Damage.
14:10, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 1d20+6.  Ogre # Attack .
14:08, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 2d8+4.  Slam attack damage .
14:07, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 14 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Attack #2.
14:07, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 22 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Attack #1.
14:06, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20+6.  Ogre #1 Greatclub Attack .
03:05, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 5 using 1d20-2.  WIS Save for Ogre #2.
03:04, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 1d20-1.  Initiative for Flesh Golem.
03:02, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20-1.  Initiative for Ogre #2.

Ogre #1 missed.
Ogre #2 hit, but will be immobilized after Grog’s turn.
Georg The Flesh Golem hit Azatch with one Slam attack.

Initiative Order

Flesh Golem
Azatch
Ogre #2
Grog
Ogre #1
Tara

(Cela sneaked into the House—I’m adding you to the other Group next)



This message was last edited by the GM at 07:49, Sun 31 Oct 2021.

Cela decides to leave the battle with the Ogre/Golem to those that are much larger.  She attempts to slip past them to the house.


14:43, Today: Cela rolled 15 using 1d20+6 with rolls of 9.  stealth (advantage)
14:42, Today: Cela rolled 23 using 1d20+4.  init.

Azatch reeled from that massive blow, but he let his rage take him.

He shoved the Flesh golem, trying to leverage it off balance and off the walk way into the waters below, so he moved around to put himself between the golem and the building and shoved outward.


OOC: I'm noot sure if I can position myself to do that or not. If not, can any of the three be targeted by an Azatch shove?
Bonus Action: rage; grow tail
action: Shove, DC 14 too resist
Reaction: if necessary, +5 added to AC if hit before next round

03:25, Today: Azatch rolled 14 using 2d20+6, dropping the lowest dice only.  Shove Flesh golem - adv from rage.
03:24, Today: Azatch rolled 5 using 1d8.  Tail Reaction.
For completeness: 20:17, Tue 26 Oct: Azatch rolled 13 using 1d20+2.  Init.

Tara unleashed a subtle spell to disable an attacker...

If there's an Ogre left by Tara's turn, it gets Tasha's Hideous Laughter.

Azatch put his back into the task and shoved Dead Georg back a few feet! The Flesh Golem lurched back  swung meaty Orc fists at Azatch’s face. However, Azatch’s shove threw the Golem off balance. The Barbarian stepped back just out of reach, but still felt the wind from the near miss. Luckily, his wilderness-honed reflexes were superior to a lumbering Flesh Golem!

The Stone Rune enthralled the Ogre who’d attacked Tara. His limbs stiffened as a torpor overtook him. Drool trailed from his lower lip as his hands hung limply at his side. He stared slack jawed at the invading party. A Minotaur the size of a Hill Giant slammed the Ogre off his feet and into the brackish water below!

Close by, the lead Ogre swung his Greatclub at Azatch. The thick weapon struck Azatch’s arm, and would leave a wicked bruise. Unnoticed by the Ogre, Tara stepped into spell-casting range, unhurt by the javelin thanks to her handy protective spell! Tara invoked Tasha’s Hideous Laughter, a strange spell infamous for interrupting battle with uncontrollable laughter. The magic worked on the Ogre, whose thick lips twitched. Unfortunately, the brute narrowly resisted the spell.


OOC:

22:53, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 19 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Slam #2.
22:52, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 19 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Slam.
22:47, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 14 using 1d20-1.  Ogre #1 WIS Save.
22:45, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 4 using 1d20-1.  WIS save.
22:45, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 9 using 2d8+4.  Greatclub damage.
22:43, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 25 using 1d20+6.  Ogre #1 Greatclub attack.
22:37, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 9 using 1d20+4.  STR check.

Grog, just waiting on your move.


This message was last edited by the GM at 19:28, Tue 02 Nov 2021.

Grog advances on the charmed ogre and with a roar, slams his shoulder and elbow into the creatures chest.

---

Action to Shove - pushing him 5 feet if it will knock him into the water; if not, knock him prone.

Grog rolled 26 using 2d20+6 with rolls of 20 and 20 for STR (Athletics) for shove; ADV due to Giant's Might.

I'm going to add the dice roller has been rolling way below average for me for the past year so to get double 20's is AMAZING! And, since the Ogre is incapacitated, I'm not even sure the check was needed!

"Enjoy the water!" Grog shouts as the ogre flails in the river.

He turns to the other ogre and swings his glaive in a wide arc.

---

Grog rolled 14 for 8 + 4 = 12 damage.

Grog has 10' reach, does the ogre? If not, then Grog should get an opportunity attack if the ogre moves from 10' away to 5' away.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 03:19, Thu 04 Nov 2021.

OOC:

Initiative

Flesh Golem
Azatch
Ogre #2
Grog
Ogre #1
Tara

Ogre #1 is Wounded badly.
Ogre #2 is flopping in the water. I’ll give him another Saving Throw. If he fails, I’m rolling CON Vs. Drowning.

Seeing the ogre looks to be injured, Grog hopes to finish him with another mighty slash of his glaive but his eagerness telegraphs the blow and the ogre easily blocks it.

---

Grog rolled 8 for his glaive attack.

I'm not sure if I should be posting yet, given that the ogres go first, but here's a tentative post to keep things moving..

Tara saw the ogre was wounded, and attempted a quick spell to finish it off.

Toll the dead.  16:38, Today: Tara Inkfingers rolled 9 using 1d12 ((9)). So 9 Necrotic if it fails a Wisdom save.

Azatch barely registered anything beyond a visceral need to destroy the Flesh Golem. His rage dulled any pain, and white spots filled his vision as he attacked the undead construct with every bit of power his muscles contained. Spittle flew from the Barbarian’ mouth as he stabbed the Golem with his enchanted javelin! Azatch’s spiked tail swung and ripped at the Golem.



OOC:

20:52, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 14 using 1d8+8.  Damage + Rage bonus.
20:51, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 20 using 1d20+6.  Tail.
20:50, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 12 using 2d6+5.  Critical damage.
20:49, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Javelin.


 

“Georg” flailed mindlessly at Azatch. Blood flew from Azatch’s mouth as the Golem’s left fist slammed into his face. The Golem lashed out with his right fist, but Azatch merely brushed it off in his own rage. The Barbarian howled as he shrugged off any pain and drove his magical javelin through then Golem’s torso! Black ic hot flowed freely as Azatch yanked his javelin free. Then, the Barbarian’s spiked tail whipped around and tore a chunk out of “Georg’s” thigh.

Bubbles popped from the surface of the river where the charmed Ogre landed. One. Two. Then, the surface was still, as the Ogre drowned.

The remaining Ogre attempted to double-team Azatch. A smirk in place, he sneaked up behind Azatch and swung his Greatclub. However, a furious tussle raged between the Barbarian and Flesh Golem. They bobbed and struggled, and the Ogre missed.

Tara took advantage of the Ogre’s distraction and invoked the darker Art of  Necromancy. She mumbled a spell and the sound of a dolorous bell filled the air. The Ogre flinched as his upper back withered from Tara’s spell!

OOC:

19:10, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 2d8+4.  Flesh Golem Slam damage.
19:08, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 12 using 1d20+6.  Ogre Greatclub attack.
19:07, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Slam #2.
19:06, Yesterday: The Dungeonmaster rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Flesh Golem Slam #1.

Ogre #1 is almost finished.
Flesh Golem is wounded, but remains in the fight.

Tara, make an Arcana check.

Grog looks to finish off the ogre, but his aim is thrown off, as he sees the necrotic damage caused by Tara's spell.

---

Grog rolled 9,6,1 (rolls of 3, 2, 1)!

A 9, so no.

Azatch thrust his spear again at the Flesh Golem, then followed up with a swipe of his spiked tail.

OOC:

13:27, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 9 using 1d6+5.  Javelin damage .
13:26, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 11 using 1d20+7.  Javelin .

Tara continued to use the same spell on the ogre.  She only had so much power; best to save a little bit for now.

More Toll the Dead, but only 3 damage this time.

OOC:

Initiative

Flesh Golem
Azatch
Grog
Ogre #1
Tara

Ogre #1 is Wounded badly.


The Flesh Golem moaned and swung his heavy fists at Azatch. The surefooted Barbarian instinctively evaded him, though, and retaliated with another stab of his javelin. The enchanted head gouged another wound in the unliving monster, a new stream of black ichor trickling down the patchwork flesh. Azatch’s tail lashed whip like at the Golem, tearing the wound deeper!

Next, Grog attacked with his glaive. He should have missed, but a burst of brightly colored sparkled dust blinded the Ogre, driving it back into his weapon’s path! The blade bit into his ribs. The Ogre retaliated at his assailant, but kissed.

Tara invoked her Necromantic spell again, speaking the words of power that summoned the ghostly bell toll. Again, the Ogre’s flesh withered at the haunting sound. Between the Witch & the Rune Knight, the Ogre succumbed to his attacks and died with a weak gurgle in his throat.



OOC2:

12:36, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 15 using 2d8+8.  Tail damage.
12:35, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 23 using 1d20+6.  Tail attack.
12:29, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 11 using 1d20+6.  Greatclub attack.
12:29, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 13 using 1d20+7.  Slam attack #2.
12:29, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 18 using 1d20+7.  Slam attack #1.


Y’all killed Ogre #1, leaving the Flesh Golem just below half strength.

Grog is surprised to see his blade bite into the ogre, but roars a cry of victory when the creatures falls.

The minotaur whirls to help Azatch with the golem.

"Tara, see if you can help Cela. We can deal with this bag of flesh."

With a growl, Grog spins his glaive and slashes at the golem opening a gaping wound; "How about some Fire Magic to go with that?"

he is about to thrust again with the glaive, when he is shocked to see the rent he just made close up on its own! Instead he slides his hands apart on the shaft and slams it into the golem.

---

Grog rolled 26 using 1d20+6, critical hit with glaive attack.

Grog rolled 12,8, and 1 for 21 glaive damage (critical, savage attack, giant's might).

Fire rune adds 2d6 fire damage and restrains target if they fail a STR saving throw. The 2d6 fire damage and restraint repeat each turn until either the STR save is made or 1 minute passes.

Grog rolled 6 using 2d6 for Fire Rune damage.

Action Surge: Shove golem - push it 5 feet if that will knock it into the river, otherwise just try to knock it prone.

Grog rolled 9 and 5 resulting in a 12 STR (Athletics) for Shove - ADV due to Giant's Might.

The target of your shove must be no more than one size larger than you, and it must be within your reach. You make a Strength (Athletics) check contested by the target's Strength (Athletics) or Dexterity (Acrobatics) check (the target chooses the ability to use). You succeed automatically if the target is incapacitated. If you succeed, you either knock the target prone or push it 5 feet away from you.

[Edit: changed Action Surge action as non-magical glaive cannot hurt golem; and added Fire Rune to initial attack.]

This message was last edited by the player at 04:39, Tue 23 Nov 2021.

Tara had some doubts about this, but nevertheless tried to Dash further in to find and help the others.

The Flesh Golem screeched at the fire, flailing as much at the conjured flame as at Azatch! A massive fist slammed Azatch’s face hard, sending blood flying! Even in the red haze of his rage, the Barbarian felt the blow! Azatch shrugged aside the second attack, though, not even feeling the glancing hit.


OOC:

15:00, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 17 using 4d8+4.  Slam damage, Critical Hit.
14:58, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 19 using 1d20+7.  Slam attack #2.
14:58, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 27 using 1d20+7.  Slam attack #1.

After the Golem’s brutal attack, Azatch answered with a furious “GWARRR!!! With that enraged bellow, the Barbarian stuck the enchanted javelin at the Flesh Golem again!


OOC:

16:01, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 8 using 1d20+7.  Advantage on Javelin attack .
15:59, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 9 using 1d6+5.  Javelin damage .
15:58, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 12 using 1d20+7.  Javelin .

11 damage with the Rage bonus to Melee attacks.

The Flesh Golem reacted fearfully to the fire by battering Azatch’s face! Blood flew from Azatch’s mouth, and the Half-Orc actually paused to blink at the unliving creature. When the pain filtered through, Azatch roared and stuck his jacking into the Flesh Golem’s torso, ripping a chunk of unnaturally animated flesh free!

Suddenly, Grog’s Fire Rune constricted tightly around Undead Georg! The stench of sizzling Flesh Golem filled the Minotaur’s nostrils. The nauseating stink imbued Grog with the burst of strength needed to shove the Flesh Golem down! “Georg” fell over, flopping around on the bridge as the magical chains burned him.

OOC:

The Flesh Golem is almost dispatched! He’s looking pretty bad now.

"Finish it off, Azatch!" Grog roars to his companion, knowing the half-orc's javelin could damage the golem while his mundane glaive could not.

---

Fire Rune will do 2d6 fire damage and keep golem restrained until it makes a STR save vs DC13 at the END of its turn.
Grog rolled 6+5=11 fire damage.

If Azatch kills the golem this round, Grog will head to the door and try to bash it open.
Grog rolled 11 for STR check (DC20) to open door - ADV due to Giant's Might.

If the golem is alive and if it saves against the rune, Grog will attempt to grapple the golem to keep it prone for Azatch's following attack.
Grog rolled 11 for STR (Athletics) for grapple - ADV due to Giant's Might.

More crappy rolls!

OOC:

00:06, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 7 using 1d20+4.  CON check w/disadvantage .
00:06, Today: The Dungeonmaster rolled 5 using 1d20+4.  CON check w/disadvantage .

I’ll post a descriptive action in the update, but the Golem failed his CON check. Disregard he STR roll, even though they use the same modifier.


 

In the throes of his bestial rage, Azatch barely heard Grog over the buzzing in his ears. All the Barbarian knew was an all-consuming desire to destroy his enemy! Froth dangled from his tusks as Azatch howled his fury, and drove the javelin toward the Flesh Golem’s chest!

OOC:

00:10, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 8 using 1d6+6.  Javelin damage .
00:09, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 19 using 1d20+7.  Javelin w/Advantage .
00:09, Today: The Dungeonmaster, on behalf of Azatch, rolled 12 using 1d20+7.  Javelin w/Advantage.

Grog’s Rune seared the Flesh Golem and kept him bound tight! The Golem flopped around on the bridge, lying prone and chained…and burning. The Golem sounded almost like a baby as it whined piteously. It strained against the magical chains with all the might in its magically empowered muscles. However, Grog’s magic was stronger,

Although Azatch barely heard Grog’s words, he instinctively took encouragement from his companion. “YAAAAAAGH!” Azatch raised his javelin and brought it down, piercing the Flesh Golem’s chest! The Golem stared at the warriors with unseeing eyes. “Myeh…?” Then, its head flopped back as it finally died the True Death.

OOC:

Way to go. Grog! Your Rune enabled Azatch to finish it off!

"You are a mighty warrior!" Grog bellows at Azatch as the golem slides off the barbarian's javelin.

With the golem dead, Grog heads toward the door.

---

Just to get Grog to where Tara is.

Azatch’s breath slowed down as the Flesh Golem died in almost a strange synchronicity. The bestial rage ebbed with a sigh that rumbled from deep within his massive chest. Panting, he nodded slowly at Grog. “My…thanks, Grog.”

Standing at his full height, he yanked his javelin from the golem’s body. “Now, let’s send those Hags to Hell.” Azatch followed Grog into the Witch House…