Darkness. Sweet, blissful darkness. That's all you know as you drift in the unconscious void of your mind. Here, you don't have to worry about pain or even worry itself. You could drift this way into the eternities if you so desired.
What's that sound? You hear something strange as you drift aimlessly in your slumbering consciousness. You could hear... the sounds of water gently lapping against sand, the faint cries of ocean birds, the hum of buzzing insects. Where were those coming from? And why did you feel wet? You notice cold, wet clothes clinging to your body? Had you gone swimming? And that smell! You catch a whiff of salty brine mixed with the pungent odor of something decaying nearby. With a groan, your mind begins to awake as you become more aware of your surroundings. Where on earth were you?
Water. Air? Sweet air? No, salty. He licks his lips. No booze? Not home, then. This gives him pause. Unless it is. Where is home? Come to think of it, who am I? At this, his eyes drift open, bright sun blinding him, and his thoughts, momentarily. In that second, confusion was replaced with panic.
Where is it?! It was here! Where is it?! He stops and stares at the rolling river in front of him. Wait, where's what? The lush vegetation swaying in the breeze, the tall palms creaking in response, the glistening clear water rushing in front of him and the furious cloud of insects chewing his legs for blood all paled in the face of that burning questi-- Wha?! Bugs! Damn, git! Furious smacking ensues, drawing smears of crimson across his legs. Without thinking further, as if on instinct, he draws deep breath and dives head first into the torrential river...
...It's at this point he realizes he never drew a breath. Yet the water flows as easy as air. As smaller fish swirl around him, he runs his hands over a strange set of slips on either side of his neck. Gills? Wha--?
A memory flashes, brief but illuminating. Yes... yes, of course. Korinth. My name is Korinth. The name brings warmth, but it's the tropical river that ultimately calms him. Reeds poke from the sediment of the shallows, drawing long shapes across the rippling surface. Sunlight glitters through the waters surface, dancing across the riverbed in intricate patterns. He breathes deep, drawing the temperate water into his gills, sampling the quality of the water. It's fresh. He opens his mouth and closes it, gulping down a refreshing mouthful. As he does, he notices a strange light in his peripherals. It's a gem, small and luminous, stuck in his arm. Confusion turns to curiosity. Ultimately, he elects to leave it alone -- for now.
He takes another pull of river water into his gills, turns, and begins swimming upstream, lightly contesting the undercurrents.
Mmmm.. a nice long cat nap. Silvana slowly wakes up entertained by the thought that she can call it a cat nap but if anyone else does... she smiles to herself. She slowly opens her eyes and takes in the beauty that surrounds her. This doesn't make sense, I know my area like the back of my paw, how'd I get... her thoughts trail off as she realizes she is soaking wet!
Jumping up from her lounging position, she shakes her body, attempting to spray the water from her fur. She glares around, looking for some culprit responsible for her current condition, but all she can see is the peaceful river near her. She continues to look around at her surroundings, the rocky outcropping, the cliffs and the vegetation. She takes a deep breath and enjoys all the smells that come with it. She goes to grab her things and try to make sense of where she is... and all she sees is her shortbow. Where was her pack of well.. everything?? Who is responsible.. they are so going to pay.
That is when she notices the green implant in her arm. She takes a claw and scratches at it a bit and then sighs. This sucks the air right out of her, and she sits down with a thud. She tries to think about what happened before her nap.. and nothing comes back to her. She looks over her shortbow and sees markings upon and it, well worn ones, not new. She thinks the shortbow is hers.. but honestly? She couldn't swear on it. She attempts looking back to the beautiful area she finds herself in to try and lift her spirits, but finds herself staring at the faintly glowing implant instead.
The halfling opens her eyes, blinks, and reflexively wipes the palm of her hand across her forehead. Leaves and branches of some sort of bush or small tree dance merrily in the breeze above her face. Damp ringlets of her hair stick to her skin underneath the thin black cowl, and the threadbare black robe covering her is wet too, sticking to her skin. It's a steamer today. Why's it so hot? Something is poking her in the back, something lumpy. Thrusting her hands down to either side, she pushes herself up off of the object, and then a breathtaking vista comes into view as she comes to a sitting position.
A crystal blue river flows down in a gorge somewhere below her, and lush, oversized trees, vines, and shrubs with enormous leaves and brilliant, exotic flowers bend their heads over it. Wait a minute. This looks nothing... nothing at all... like the clammy long rolling hills of gorse and snowy mountains that she's used to. The halfling leans forward, looking down the steep sandstone cliff that it seems she is at the top of. She feels thirst start to swell her tongue, unused to the hot, sticky climate. But she can't quite remember anything else. What she was doing, how she got here. Even the memory of the gorse seems ephemereal, fading out of reach. Oy, must've hit my head. What's my name? What's the year? Where am I? Uncomfortably, the halfling realizes she only knows the answer to the first question. Euphemia Leagallow.
She reaches behind her to the lump she had been laying on. Her hands touching straight wooden sticks and a lumpy hide. What... she twists around to look at it, and then something else comes back to her. Not exactly consciously, but as if from kinesthetic memory, she feels herself pick the strange contraption up, pushing the floppy, hollow bag of hide underneath one arm, grasping one of the wooden sticks bored with tiny holes, and blowing air into the bag through another hollow stick. Her arm flexes against the bag, and a hideous, wailing drone pierces the thick, muggy air, prompting an explosive feathered takeoff of birds from the nearby trees, their screeches of protest wholly drowned out by the scream of the pipes. The halfling's fingers move automatically back and forth over the tiny holes, and the wailing drone, so shocking and upsetting at first, begins to layer in on itself with different harmonies in the drone, and then melodies, quite pleasing to the ear, the sound carrying out from the hilltop for a mile or two, or more. Within a few bars of the music, Euphemia's surprise wears off, as she realizes it's a musical instrument she holds, and whatever else she cannot remember, she knows how to play it.
Rise! Rise! Northland and halfling men, Plaid clan and Righteous man, come up and sing, Rise! Rise! Bearded and mountain men, Belt on your broadsword and fight for the High King!
Euphemia can't remember what the words mean, but they're there in her mind, and they go with the tune that her muscle memory is so enthusiastically playing. She's so drawn in by her tune, that she fails to notice that the feathered birds that flew screeching from the trees around her have begun to circle menacingly back around, at first at a distance, but drawing in an ever tighter circle towards the halfling and her awful noise...
Donnyl opens his eyes, looks up and sees… sea birds.
He closes them again, allowing his short, stout halfling body to settle back into the sand… Taking his time to join the world, like it’s a lazy Sunday morning. Breathing in the salt air, the low tide, the scent of decay without judgement or alarm. Too tired for that, anyway.
Mouth dry. Head in a vice. Salty wet clothes clinging to his body. Eyelids pressed together against the onslaught of the rising sun… Listening to the sea birds…
Damn... Sand on his face…
He goes to wipe it clean and finds something clenched in his hand… A slender piece of driftwood. The stiffness in his knuckle joints tell him he’s been gripping onto this thing for dear life… How long? Gods, how long…
His eyes shoot open.
And where in the Nine Hells is he?
Donnyl bolts upright at a ninety degree angle. Birds scatter. Sea bir-no… Carrion birds… But not like any he’s ever seen before. These looked fiercer. Almost reptilian… An inauspicious start to the day, regardless.
“Sorry to deny you a meal, gents.” He thinks to himself, watching them fly away.
Donnyl continues his thought as he surveys his unfamiliar environment, the scent in the air, the buzz of swarming insects, the foreboding wilderness, “But don’t fret, my feathered friends…” He thinks. “You may yet get your chance.”
As he leans on his left arm to adjust himself to an upright position, Donnyl notices something … Quite curious. Troubling in fact. A luminescent green gem, just under the skin at the forearm. Magical, no doubt. Likely implanted, he deduces. After all, it’s hard to believe this strange glowing object grew there naturally…
Curious about the gem, he touches it with his driftwood stick. Or perhaps… It’s also possible that he was the one to put it there, himself…
Of course, he certainly doesn’t remember anything like that…Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember much of anything… Not his name… Not how he got here. Nothing, except… “Thumbnail distance from the carver plate, or it all must be redone…” …whatever in blazes that means.
Looking around at the unforgiving wilderness that surrounds him, his fear of isolation gets the better of his senses and he calls out, “Helloooooooooo!” as loud as he can. He waits, hearing the faint echos of his voice muted by dense foliage.
Just then, he notices something move beneath the surface of the river. He sees a pair of reptilian eyes sliding closer, just under the surface of the water. Survival mode kicks in. He grabs a rock and wields the only weapon he has… the driftwood stick.
“No!” He shouts at the beast. “Bad thing! Shoo! Go away!”
As he shouts, he instinctually gesticulates toward the creature with the hand that clutches the driftwood. As he does so, he feels a rush of energy course through him as the water surrounding the creature’s head suddenly turns to ice!
The back portion of the creature writhes desperately as Donnyl backs away, looking between the creature and his driftwood stick.
“Gods’ blood…” He says out loud. “How did I do that!?”
Before he can even consider an answer to that question he hears a bellowing sound of some kind of animal echoing through the… Wait… That’s no animal… It’s… music? Not just music… It’s a tune he knows. He hums along with it, fumbling his way through the lyrics...
Rise! Rise! Northland and halfling men, Plaid clan and Righteous man, come up and sing,
He stops singing. An uncanny experience. Stranger and stranger, all of this is… And mortally perilous to be sure…
Still, moving towards the familiar seems as safe a bet as any in this savage place… So Donnyl picks himself up, dusts himself off and begins walking towards the sound of the music.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
‘Why is it so bright?’ the lizardman scrunched his closed eyes at the sun, ‘and why did I choose to lay down on the most uncomfortable position possible?’
The blue lizardman cracks open his eyes, ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He glances around and looks at the unfamiliar landscape. The bright lanscape covered in dense foliage, sagging trees with vines crawling over them and the towering mountains surrounding him, the lizardman. “Where am I?” The lizardman says out loud as he looks in wonder at the carpeted ground.
He looks over his soaked threadbare clothes with a bone dagger with colorful flowers hanging from its hilt on his belt. ‘When did a swim?’ He glances at his arms. “ What is THAT?” There is a faintly glowing diamond on the inside of his forearm. He starts to claw at the embedded diamond but to no avail, it’s stuck. ‘I’ve only seen these type of hide once, chief had some weapon made out of it.’ ‘Chief?’ He realizes he can’t remember his chief or family. ‘The last thing I remember is…… is…….is……….I can’t remember anything!’ ‘I think my name is Atax.’ ‘ Yes, Atax sounds right, a warriors name.’
As Atax remembers his name he hears some song played by who now’s what echoing in the valley that he’s never heard or just can’t recall. The wildlife that had been so silent he had almost forgotten about bursts around him at the tune. In the hoots and chips of the fleeing animals he can hear a creatures shrill shriek pierce through cacophony of sounds. He looks back to see a a massive reptile tear apart a giant frog about 100 feet away.
‘Time to go,’ with that alarming sight and thought Atax hunches over and starts to run as fast his his muscled legs can carry him. Atax heads toward the music, without glancing back.
Atax runs behind a particularly thick tree trunk to catch his breath. As he stands there with his hands on his knees panting a massive hairy spider hanging from a silver rope lowers into to sight in front of him. ‘By Semuanya!’ Atax grabs hold of its pincers as it lunges at him. He pulls apart with all of his strength. The left pincers pulls apart from the spiders head in his clawed hands as the spider shrieks. Atax roars and shoves his bone dagger through one of the spiders many eyes. The spider curls up and starts twitching as it falls to the ground.
Atax thinks to himself and starts to head toward where the music was coming from. Hopefully whatever is there won’t try to kill him.
Korinth breaches at the river's head. Why? His question is soon answered in the form of a grotesque moan in the distance. Dying animal? No, no, not desperate enough. Music? He winces at a particularly... spirited note. I wouldn't exactly call it that, but where there's music, there's men. And where there's men, there's women! A passing memory of a seedy tavern drifts through his mind. A damp bed and the smell of saltwater wafting from an open window, mixing with acrid scents of booze, mildew and horizontal debauchery of all shades. A lithe form stands in the doorway. It looks feminine, but... oh. Aaand back to reality. He blinks. Apparently, either will do.
The onerous screeching continues and for a brief moment, the man contemplates returning to depths of the riverbed. This thought quickly deteriorates, however, when comes a sharp pain to his leg. Hw dips his head back under. A small predatory fish latches to leg, furiously trying to chew his skin. With a smile, he offers his arm instead, sharing it near the ravenous creature's face. The wretch opens it's jaws and strikes his inner arm, just past the wrist! Fooled ya. In one lithe move, he brings his arm to his head, sinking his own pearly whites deep into the biter's supple flesh. The creature lets loose and tries to escape, but it's no use. Snack. Now all I need is a little rum and... and someone to share it with...
He breaches the water's surface once more, this time on the opposite bank. That last memory brought back two things for him.
1. That a bed is warmer when shared, and...
2. ...that I can do this!
He grabs a clod of loose soil and whispers to himself, tapping his feet. (Casts Longstrider ) He then turns in the direction of the dying beast/ "music" and takes off at a full sprint, chewing fish gristle as he goes.
The hafling woman continues to blast away at her beloved bagpipe, her thunderous music washing over the valley. Unbeknownst to her, many eyes lurking in the shaded boughs of the lush jungle now turn towards her, many of them curious as to what the novel sound was while others look hungrily in her direction. Luckily, her song also acted as a beacon to a ragtag group of similarly stranded people who now begin to converge on her location.
Euphemia's music-making trance is interrupted by a sudden burst of stinging pain erupting from her right arm. Looking down, she sees that a small, shallow divot of flesh is missing from her arm, the exposed muscles twitching slightly. Whirling around, she catches sight of what must have caused the wound: a small, blood-colored bird with yellow markings on the tips of its wings. The bird flaps furiously upwards, and following its path, Euphemia catches sight of a swirling maelstrom of similarly colored birds wheeling about in the air above her. While that bird that took a chunk out of her was only the size of a pigeon, her injury sure did hurt! She could only imagine what a whole swarm of them could do to a person...
EVERYONE ELSE
Drawn to the sounds of the curious music like moths to a flame, everyone begins trekking towards the direction of the blaring sounds. You quickly come to the conclusion that the music has to be coming from a point of high elevation; the jungle is just too thick and would muffle the tune if it were coming from amongst the trees somewhere. Looking around, you spot a rugged cliff jutting from the ground that seems like a probable location where the music could be coming from. It's certainly tall enough, and the music does seem to be coming from that direction. You also notice that a strange flock of birds spirals in the air above the cliff, similar to the way vultures circle around a carcass. Yes, something was definitely happening up on that cliff.
Making quick work of the gritty fish meat and soaring through the lush foliage, Korinth begins to drift back into his mind... shortly before a large branch catches his clothes and throws him unceremoniously into the loamy soil and moss. A slew of heinous curses begin coursing from his lips as he rolls back to his feet, wiping muck from his knees and chest. Huh? Wha--? For the first time, he notices a bow, straddled across his chest. Feeling around further, he finds a bundled quiver tied to his waist. He examines the bow, running his fingers over the intricate markings on the frame. Tiny serpents wind across the wood's surface, shades of gold and faded azure accentuating their lithe forms in surprising detail. Tying the bowstring and pulling it taut, he feels a twinge of familiarity in his form and movement. On a whim, he unties the quiver and knocks an arrow, aiming for a low-hanging fruit the color of burning fire. He takes a deep breath, aims and releases. The bow flies out of his hand, striking him in the face. He slips on the soft moss, falling back and striking his head on a nearby tree. The arrow, however, flies true. It strikes the fruit with sufficient force to rip it from its stem, pinning it to a vine behind where it once hung.
Korinth, unconscious from his knock to the head, did not see this.
The sounds reaches Silvana's ears and they twitch. What is that? Music?? She lets the sound wash over her as she sits there and it seems to turn from warbling notes to an actual tune and it makes her smile. Sure doesn't fit the scene she thinks to herself amused.
Getting up, she brushes herself off and starts to try to figure out where it is coming from. Across the river there is a cliff that as she looks up...yep, that would be it and oooh... lunch! she licks her lips as she sees the circling flock of birds. As the formation dawns on her, she comes to the conclusion that whomever is making the strange music might be lunch for those birds.
The river. Seriously? Silvana realizes she needs to cross it in order to get to the cliff. As she approaches the beach, she sees several shadows moving within the water and shudders. Great, not only water but who knows what is in there. She heads to the nearest tree and starts climbing... unsure as to why, it just felt right. But as her claws sink into the soft bark, gooey sap discharges around them and starts getting into her paws. She leaps down immediately, frustrated. The sap was extremely sticky and now her feet were becoming completely covered in sand as she paced, trying to figure out how to cross this river.
Her stomach growls... loudly. At least she thought it was loud as she stares up at those birds in the air, but then loud can be relative as the sound behind her clarifies and makes her involuntarily cower. The crash that is heard makes her fear of water and the unknown shadows slip away in comparison and she dives in without a glance behind her.
Fish. Extremely large ones and some smaller ones greet her once she enters the cold water. As she attempts to swim across the river she notices that some of these fish have teeth and she does her best to avoid them. Snagging one on her way out of the water with her claws, she devours it in one gulp as she emerges from the wet.
Shaking the water off for the second time her mood has definitely soured as she heads for the cliff and begins to climb.
Euphemia is startled out of her reverie as one of the birds dives in to gouge a chunk from her arm, ripping a sizable tear in the thin sleeve of her robe. The drone of the bagpipes flags with a squeal of protest and the melody garbles out of existence as the halfling stops playing and jerks her head up, seeing the close-circling flock of toothed birds closing oh. Ach, time to go... they've probably got a nest up here, they're warning me away... or they would have eaten me already... make it quick, lass!
A glance down at her instrument shows her there is a small length of rope tied to either end of the bag, and she slips this over one shoulder, hops to her feet, and, keeping small and silent as halflings are wont, slips furtively through the thick vegetation and runs quickly towards the nearest dip in the terrain. Down, down, better get down, away from the nests... slipping and sliding on the broad-leafed vegetation, and scrambling for handholds along the sandy cliff, Euphemia slowly makes her way downward. The curves of the cliff and the spots of thickest vegetation that she's trying to stick to, to stay out of sight of the flock of birds, steer her down the southeastern face of the cliff.
The birds, meanwhile, seem to indeed have lost sight of their target for the moment, and they circle widely, screeching, looping back in formation several times along the cliffside, not content with the sudden disappearance of the noisy interloper. Their sharp little saurian eyes peeled for anything strange moving along the cliff face...
Euphemia's Stealth14 contested by Birds' Perception10 Euphemia's Acrobatics16 Direction of Descent by d8 Southeast
Over the next few minutes Donnyl moves as fast as his little legs will take him along the riverbank, noticing more inhospitable movement in the water as he goes.
"Bother." He says aloud, realizing the river bisects his path toward the sound of the pipes. Still, he continues his path northward in hopes that he'll find a place where he can cross without trouble... But then the pipe music suddenly cuts out.
Donnyl stops running, looks up in the direction he was heading... hoping for the music to resume... but it doesn't. "Oh, double bother." He says, scratching his head with his driftwood stick.
He takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his frustrations... Then, he looks up toward the distant peak. That's where the music was coming from. He's certain of that. For now, at least, he'll use that as his north star and make his way toward it with all possible haste.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae(L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk -Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Half-dreaming, Shin hums to the time of the distant... tune? Like no song I have heard. Strange blends of sound, shifting from discordant to sublime.
It is not Shin's song, nothing like it in fact, yet a song for battle and magic quick blades as Shin had been taught by his elven master. Hadn't he?Somehow, the goblin, so proud in his quick mind and knowledge and self-professed perfect logic, cannot remember. He opens his eyes blearily.
The little owl nearby regards the goblin, her exasperation almost palpable through her telepathy. Enjoy your dirt nap? Was that part of your "plan" too? Thinking you were hiding from your friends when in fact they ditched you, only to be plucked... the giant bird... dropped in the river... ?
The owl blinks in confusion, as if losing her train of thought. Wizard and familiar regard each other in bafflement. Shin and Pinky-toe. Both realizing at the same time that their memories are fading or faded. Gone. Nothing left except... the book? A... spell book!Shin remembers that distantly. And a small tooth hung about his neck like an amulet. A spell-casting focus! And something else, green and glowing on his already green-skinned arm.
It is too much to process. Shin shakes his head and stands up with a groan, his mind unable to reason through the possibilities, and his bedraggled clothes no match for the slow, unhurried inexorability of the muddy tropical river. Pinky-toe flaps her wings to balance herself on Shin's shoulder as he moves towards the strange music. His pretense at always being logically perfect vanishes as his vision sharpens and eyes widen. Shin takes in the strange, lush landscape around him, listening and watching. Trying to carefully categorize things as interesting, hazardous or necessary to live.
Mosquitoes tear at his flesh and caterpillars chew the fringes of his clothes, but still Korinth remains unconscious. There, he dreams. Dreams of warm marshes, full of rich game and wicked beasts. Dreams of noble spirits and ancient groves. Dreams of a quiet fishing nooks and bubbling streams. Dreams of warm hovels, nestled in logs and fragrant stews simmering over fresh-raked coals. He dreams of home, of things he'll forget when inevitably he awakes...
After her encounter with crossing the river, the tabaxi continues her resolute march towards the cliff. Luckily, the jungle doesn't seem as thick here as it was before, and the root-encrusted ground begins to gradually slope upwards as she trudges on. There was so much life here! She could barely see the forest floor past all the creeping vines, vibrant ferns, and decomposing leaves. The only annoyance she encounters on her way are several clouds of mosquitoes that she swears think tabaxi blood must be a delicacy or something. The parasitic little insects are relentless in their pursuit of Silvana.
She finally breaks free from the jungle's grasp and finds herself standing before the towering cliff she had set as her destination, it's shadow cloaking Sillvana's surroundings in darkness as it blocks out the rising morning sun. Craning her neck to look up, she sees that the rough cliff face is plastered with all sorts of life: creeping vines, springy mosses, ferns growing in craggy recesses, a person climbing down the cliffside, colorful exotic flowers- wait, that's a person up there! Near the top of the cliff, she spots a diminutive person dressed in similar threadbare clothes nimbly making their way down the cliffside, staying to the more vegetated parts of the cliff to hide from the pack of birds overhead. You would say that they're about 150 feet up, but the cliff begins to not be so steep where the figure is, so they don't have to do as much climbing as before.
ATAX
After his harrowing encounter with the spider, the lizardfolk hastily continues his trek towards the sound of music, but it suddenly cuts off for some reason. Luckily, Atax figured out that the song must have come from the top of a nearby rock cliff jutting from the ground. As he makes his way through tall jungle grasses and shrubs with morning sun warming his back, he catches sight of someone half-climbing and half-sliding down one side of the cliff.
SHIN
Taking in their surroundings, the goblin and his owl familiar begin their hesitant journey towards the music. Shin quickly realizes that the music seems to be coming from atop a cliff rising above the treetops in the near distance. Straining his eyes, he thinks he might see a diminutive figure standing atop the cliff, and he watches as they begin to descend down one side of the cliff. Maybe they're trying to escape from the flock of birds circling above rock outcropping?
With his destination now in mind, he picks up his pace through the jungle undergrowth. He spots a patch of innocent looking vines sprouting pointed leaves growing over trees and shrubs up ahead, growing thick enough to obscure the forest floor. He recognizes it as razorvine, a nasty pest of a plant that had a tendency to shred anything that touched. Accordingly, the goblin wisely walks around the patch. He quickly arrives at a muddy river barring his path. While he couldn't tell how deep it was, it was fairly wide. Thankfully, Shin doesn't spot any wildlife that he would call dangerous, but with his observant eye, he does spot a corner of some sort of box peeking out from under the arching roots of a nearby tree.
DONNYL
The halfling man scurries along the muddy riverbank towards his destination. Along his way, he doesn't spot much wildlife; everything must be hiding from the unexpected music that had drawn you in this direction. Thankfully, Donnyl finds a section of the river that wasn't as wide as the other sections he had seen so far. This was a good as a place as any to cross its murky depths. On the other side, the trees stand far apart from each other and eventually disappear as the ground slopes upward to form the cliff. Through the thin copse of trees, he spots a figure moving towards the cliff who wears similar clothes to the ones you're wearing, except this person seems to be covered in fur and a tail swishes through the air behind them. You're too far away to pick out any specific details, but at least it's confirmed you're not alone here!
EEUPHEMIA
The halfling woman deftly makes her way down the cliff escaping from the birds. To her surprise, she spots someone on the ground below her!
ALL
Spotting no one else to feast upon, the predatory birds squawk in annoyance as they disband and fly off in separate directions in search of food in other places.
He stirs with a snort, lurching forward into a fetal stance as Korinth's faculties return to him. He rubs his head, wincing as his hand grazes a sizeable lump on the back of his skull. He looks up, eyes quickly adjusting to the change in light. Time's changed. And the music's stopped. Maybe the animal they were strangling finally croaked, he mused. He stands up slowly, stretching, aching slightly. He peers around, spotting his loosed arrow, now embedded through a fly-coated fruit and stuck deep in a thick vine.
With a quick twist and a sharp tug, he pulls the arrow free from it's target, marveling at the minute accuracy. At this he pauses, considering. At last, he opts to try again. He steps over to his discarded bow, scooping it up and readying his arrow once more. The throb of his head plays a stark reminder, leading him to tighten his grip. Shaking his head again, he aims and looses. Too early. The arrow flies wide, snapping against a low branch. "Damn!" he shouts. "One more!".
This time, he's slower, more steadied. He knocks his next arrow, pulls taut, and aims. He takes a deep breath, holds... and releases! The arrow flies straight and true, burying itself deep in the trunk of the fruits' tree. It won't be retrievable, but it's a worthwhile loss. "One more..." he whispers, knocking the next one fluidly, instinctively. He needs no time to aim now. His reflex has returned. He pulls his bow taut, steadies and fires. The arrow hits mere inches from the last, but shallower. He approaches and pulls it free. Smiling and musing at his newfound skill, he turns, heading back for the river...
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DAY 1
Darkness. Sweet, blissful darkness. That's all you know as you drift in the unconscious void of your mind. Here, you don't have to worry about pain or even worry itself. You could drift this way into the eternities if you so desired.
What's that sound? You hear something strange as you drift aimlessly in your slumbering consciousness. You could hear... the sounds of water gently lapping against sand, the faint cries of ocean birds, the hum of buzzing insects. Where were those coming from? And why did you feel wet? You notice cold, wet clothes clinging to your body? Had you gone swimming? And that smell! You catch a whiff of salty brine mixed with the pungent odor of something decaying nearby. With a groan, your mind begins to awake as you become more aware of your surroundings. Where on earth were you?
Day 1
Water. Air? Sweet air? No, salty. He licks his lips. No booze? Not home, then. This gives him pause. Unless it is. Where is home? Come to think of it, who am I? At this, his eyes drift open, bright sun blinding him, and his thoughts, momentarily. In that second, confusion was replaced with panic.
Where is it?! It was here! Where is it?! He stops and stares at the rolling river in front of him. Wait, where's what? The lush vegetation swaying in the breeze, the tall palms creaking in response, the glistening clear water rushing in front of him and the furious cloud of insects chewing his legs for blood all paled in the face of that burning questi-- Wha?! Bugs! Damn, git! Furious smacking ensues, drawing smears of crimson across his legs. Without thinking further, as if on instinct, he draws deep breath and dives head first into the torrential river...
...It's at this point he realizes he never drew a breath. Yet the water flows as easy as air. As smaller fish swirl around him, he runs his hands over a strange set of slips on either side of his neck. Gills? Wha--?
A memory flashes, brief but illuminating. Yes... yes, of course. Korinth. My name is Korinth. The name brings warmth, but it's the tropical river that ultimately calms him. Reeds poke from the sediment of the shallows, drawing long shapes across the rippling surface. Sunlight glitters through the waters surface, dancing across the riverbed in intricate patterns. He breathes deep, drawing the temperate water into his gills, sampling the quality of the water. It's fresh. He opens his mouth and closes it, gulping down a refreshing mouthful. As he does, he notices a strange light in his peripherals. It's a gem, small and luminous, stuck in his arm. Confusion turns to curiosity. Ultimately, he elects to leave it alone -- for now.
He takes another pull of river water into his gills, turns, and begins swimming upstream, lightly contesting the undercurrents.
Day 1
Mmmm.. a nice long cat nap. Silvana slowly wakes up entertained by the thought that she can call it a cat nap but if anyone else does... she smiles to herself. She slowly opens her eyes and takes in the beauty that surrounds her. This doesn't make sense, I know my area like the back of my paw, how'd I get... her thoughts trail off as she realizes she is soaking wet!
Jumping up from her lounging position, she shakes her body, attempting to spray the water from her fur. She glares around, looking for some culprit responsible for her current condition, but all she can see is the peaceful river near her. She continues to look around at her surroundings, the rocky outcropping, the cliffs and the vegetation. She takes a deep breath and enjoys all the smells that come with it. She goes to grab her things and try to make sense of where she is... and all she sees is her shortbow. Where was her pack of well.. everything?? Who is responsible.. they are so going to pay.
That is when she notices the green implant in her arm. She takes a claw and scratches at it a bit and then sighs. This sucks the air right out of her, and she sits down with a thud. She tries to think about what happened before her nap.. and nothing comes back to her. She looks over her shortbow and sees markings upon and it, well worn ones, not new. She thinks the shortbow is hers.. but honestly? She couldn't swear on it. She attempts looking back to the beautiful area she finds herself in to try and lift her spirits, but finds herself staring at the faintly glowing implant instead.
Day 1
The halfling opens her eyes, blinks, and reflexively wipes the palm of her hand across her forehead. Leaves and branches of some sort of bush or small tree dance merrily in the breeze above her face. Damp ringlets of her hair stick to her skin underneath the thin black cowl, and the threadbare black robe covering her is wet too, sticking to her skin. It's a steamer today. Why's it so hot? Something is poking her in the back, something lumpy. Thrusting her hands down to either side, she pushes herself up off of the object, and then a breathtaking vista comes into view as she comes to a sitting position.
A crystal blue river flows down in a gorge somewhere below her, and lush, oversized trees, vines, and shrubs with enormous leaves and brilliant, exotic flowers bend their heads over it. Wait a minute. This looks nothing... nothing at all... like the clammy long rolling hills of gorse and snowy mountains that she's used to. The halfling leans forward, looking down the steep sandstone cliff that it seems she is at the top of. She feels thirst start to swell her tongue, unused to the hot, sticky climate. But she can't quite remember anything else. What she was doing, how she got here. Even the memory of the gorse seems ephemereal, fading out of reach. Oy, must've hit my head. What's my name? What's the year? Where am I? Uncomfortably, the halfling realizes she only knows the answer to the first question. Euphemia Leagallow.
She reaches behind her to the lump she had been laying on. Her hands touching straight wooden sticks and a lumpy hide. What... she twists around to look at it, and then something else comes back to her. Not exactly consciously, but as if from kinesthetic memory, she feels herself pick the strange contraption up, pushing the floppy, hollow bag of hide underneath one arm, grasping one of the wooden sticks bored with tiny holes, and blowing air into the bag through another hollow stick. Her arm flexes against the bag, and a hideous, wailing drone pierces the thick, muggy air, prompting an explosive feathered takeoff of birds from the nearby trees, their screeches of protest wholly drowned out by the scream of the pipes. The halfling's fingers move automatically back and forth over the tiny holes, and the wailing drone, so shocking and upsetting at first, begins to layer in on itself with different harmonies in the drone, and then melodies, quite pleasing to the ear, the sound carrying out from the hilltop for a mile or two, or more. Within a few bars of the music, Euphemia's surprise wears off, as she realizes it's a musical instrument she holds, and whatever else she cannot remember, she knows how to play it.
Rise! Rise! Northland and halfling men,
Plaid clan and Righteous man, come up and sing,
Rise! Rise! Bearded and mountain men,
Belt on your broadsword and fight for the High King!
Euphemia can't remember what the words mean, but they're there in her mind, and they go with the tune that her muscle memory is so enthusiastically playing. She's so drawn in by her tune, that she fails to notice that the feathered birds that flew screeching from the trees around her have begun to circle menacingly back around, at first at a distance, but drawing in an ever tighter circle towards the halfling and her awful noise...
Day 1
Sea birds.
Donnyl opens his eyes, looks up and sees… sea birds.
He closes them again, allowing his short, stout halfling body to settle back into the sand… Taking his time to join the world, like it’s a lazy Sunday morning. Breathing in the salt air, the low tide, the scent of decay without judgement or alarm. Too tired for that, anyway.
Mouth dry. Head in a vice. Salty wet clothes clinging to his body. Eyelids pressed together against the onslaught of the rising sun… Listening to the sea birds…
Damn... Sand on his face…
He goes to wipe it clean and finds something clenched in his hand… A slender piece of driftwood. The stiffness in his knuckle joints tell him he’s been gripping onto this thing for dear life… How long? Gods, how long…
His eyes shoot open.
And where in the Nine Hells is he?
Donnyl bolts upright at a ninety degree angle. Birds scatter. Sea bir-no… Carrion birds… But not like any he’s ever seen before. These looked fiercer. Almost reptilian… An inauspicious start to the day, regardless.
“Sorry to deny you a meal, gents.” He thinks to himself, watching them fly away.
Donnyl continues his thought as he surveys his unfamiliar environment, the scent in the air, the buzz of swarming insects, the foreboding wilderness, “But don’t fret, my feathered friends…” He thinks. “You may yet get your chance.”
As he leans on his left arm to adjust himself to an upright position, Donnyl notices something … Quite curious. Troubling in fact. A luminescent green gem, just under the skin at the forearm. Magical, no doubt. Likely implanted, he deduces. After all, it’s hard to believe this strange glowing object grew there naturally…
Curious about the gem, he touches it with his driftwood stick. Or perhaps… It’s also possible that he was the one to put it there, himself…
Of course, he certainly doesn’t remember anything like that…Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember much of anything… Not his name… Not how he got here. Nothing, except… “Thumbnail distance from the carver plate, or it all must be redone…” …whatever in blazes that means.
Looking around at the unforgiving wilderness that surrounds him, his fear of isolation gets the better of his senses and he calls out, “Helloooooooooo!” as loud as he can. He waits, hearing the faint echos of his voice muted by dense foliage.
Just then, he notices something move beneath the surface of the river. He sees a pair of reptilian eyes sliding closer, just under the surface of the water. Survival mode kicks in. He grabs a rock and wields the only weapon he has… the driftwood stick.
“No!” He shouts at the beast. “Bad thing! Shoo! Go away!”
As he shouts, he instinctually gesticulates toward the creature with the hand that clutches the driftwood. As he does so, he feels a rush of energy course through him as the water surrounding the creature’s head suddenly turns to ice!
Because he unintentionally just cast Shape Water
The back portion of the creature writhes desperately as Donnyl backs away, looking between the creature and his driftwood stick.
“Gods’ blood…” He says out loud. “How did I do that!?”
Before he can even consider an answer to that question he hears a bellowing sound of some kind of animal echoing through the… Wait… That’s no animal… It’s… music? Not just music… It’s a tune he knows. He hums along with it, fumbling his way through the lyrics...
Rise! Rise! Northland and halfling men,
Plaid clan and Righteous man, come up and sing,
He stops singing. An uncanny experience. Stranger and stranger, all of this is… And mortally perilous to be sure…
Still, moving towards the familiar seems as safe a bet as any in this savage place… So Donnyl picks himself up, dusts himself off and begins walking towards the sound of the music.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Day 1
‘Why is it so bright?’ the lizardman scrunched his closed eyes at the sun, ‘and why did I choose to lay down on the most uncomfortable position possible?’
The blue lizardman cracks open his eyes, ‘I have no idea how I got here.’ He glances around and looks at the unfamiliar landscape. The bright lanscape covered in dense foliage, sagging trees with vines crawling over them and the towering mountains surrounding him, the lizardman. “Where am I?” The lizardman says out loud as he looks in wonder at the carpeted ground.
He looks over his soaked threadbare clothes with a bone dagger with colorful flowers hanging from its hilt on his belt. ‘When did a swim?’ He glances at his arms. “ What is THAT?” There is a faintly glowing diamond on the inside of his forearm. He starts to claw at the embedded diamond but to no avail, it’s stuck. ‘I’ve only seen these type of hide once, chief had some weapon made out of it.’ ‘Chief?’ He realizes he can’t remember his chief or family.
‘The last thing I remember is…… is…….is……….I can’t remember anything!’ ‘I think my name is Atax.’ ‘ Yes, Atax sounds right, a warriors name.’
As Atax remembers his name he hears some song played by who now’s what echoing in the valley that he’s never heard or just can’t recall. The wildlife that had been so silent he had almost forgotten about bursts around him at the tune. In the hoots and chips of the fleeing animals he can hear a creatures shrill shriek pierce through cacophony of sounds. He looks back to see a a massive reptile tear apart a giant frog about 100 feet away.
‘Time to go,’ with that alarming sight and thought Atax hunches over and starts to run as fast his his muscled legs can carry him. Atax heads toward the music, without glancing back.
Atax runs behind a particularly thick tree trunk to catch his breath. As he stands there with his hands on his knees panting a massive hairy spider hanging from a silver rope lowers into to sight in front of him. ‘By Semuanya!’ Atax grabs hold of its pincers as it lunges at him. He pulls apart with all of his strength. The left pincers pulls apart from the spiders head in his clawed hands as the spider shrieks. Atax roars and shoves his bone dagger through one of the spiders many eyes. The spider curls up and starts twitching as it falls to the ground.
Atax thinks to himself and starts to head toward where the music was coming from. Hopefully whatever is there won’t try to kill him.
Korinth breaches at the river's head. Why? His question is soon answered in the form of a grotesque moan in the distance. Dying animal? No, no, not desperate enough. Music? He winces at a particularly... spirited note. I wouldn't exactly call it that, but where there's music, there's men. And where there's men, there's women! A passing memory of a seedy tavern drifts through his mind. A damp bed and the smell of saltwater wafting from an open window, mixing with acrid scents of booze, mildew and horizontal debauchery of all shades. A lithe form stands in the doorway. It looks feminine, but... oh. Aaand back to reality. He blinks. Apparently, either will do.
The onerous screeching continues and for a brief moment, the man contemplates returning to depths of the riverbed. This thought quickly deteriorates, however, when comes a sharp pain to his leg. Hw dips his head back under. A small predatory fish latches to leg, furiously trying to chew his skin. With a smile, he offers his arm instead, sharing it near the ravenous creature's face. The wretch opens it's jaws and strikes his inner arm, just past the wrist! Fooled ya. In one lithe move, he brings his arm to his head, sinking his own pearly whites deep into the biter's supple flesh. The creature lets loose and tries to escape, but it's no use. Snack. Now all I need is a little rum and... and someone to share it with...
He breaches the water's surface once more, this time on the opposite bank. That last memory brought back two things for him.
1. That a bed is warmer when shared, and...
2. ...that I can do this!
He grabs a clod of loose soil and whispers to himself, tapping his feet. (Casts Longstrider ) He then turns in the direction of the dying beast/ "music" and takes off at a full sprint, chewing fish gristle as he goes.
EUPHEMIA
The hafling woman continues to blast away at her beloved bagpipe, her thunderous music washing over the valley. Unbeknownst to her, many eyes lurking in the shaded boughs of the lush jungle now turn towards her, many of them curious as to what the novel sound was while others look hungrily in her direction. Luckily, her song also acted as a beacon to a ragtag group of similarly stranded people who now begin to converge on her location.
Euphemia's music-making trance is interrupted by a sudden burst of stinging pain erupting from her right arm. Looking down, she sees that a small, shallow divot of flesh is missing from her arm, the exposed muscles twitching slightly. Whirling around, she catches sight of what must have caused the wound: a small, blood-colored bird with yellow markings on the tips of its wings. The bird flaps furiously upwards, and following its path, Euphemia catches sight of a swirling maelstrom of similarly colored birds wheeling about in the air above her. While that bird that took a chunk out of her was only the size of a pigeon, her injury sure did hurt! She could only imagine what a whole swarm of them could do to a person...
EVERYONE ELSE
Drawn to the sounds of the curious music like moths to a flame, everyone begins trekking towards the direction of the blaring sounds. You quickly come to the conclusion that the music has to be coming from a point of high elevation; the jungle is just too thick and would muffle the tune if it were coming from amongst the trees somewhere. Looking around, you spot a rugged cliff jutting from the ground that seems like a probable location where the music could be coming from. It's certainly tall enough, and the music does seem to be coming from that direction. You also notice that a strange flock of birds spirals in the air above the cliff, similar to the way vultures circle around a carcass. Yes, something was definitely happening up on that cliff.
Making quick work of the gritty fish meat and soaring through the lush foliage, Korinth begins to drift back into his mind... shortly before a large branch catches his clothes and throws him unceremoniously into the loamy soil and moss. A slew of heinous curses begin coursing from his lips as he rolls back to his feet, wiping muck from his knees and chest. Huh? Wha--? For the first time, he notices a bow, straddled across his chest. Feeling around further, he finds a bundled quiver tied to his waist. He examines the bow, running his fingers over the intricate markings on the frame. Tiny serpents wind across the wood's surface, shades of gold and faded azure accentuating their lithe forms in surprising detail. Tying the bowstring and pulling it taut, he feels a twinge of familiarity in his form and movement. On a whim, he unties the quiver and knocks an arrow, aiming for a low-hanging fruit the color of burning fire. He takes a deep breath, aims and releases. The bow flies out of his hand, striking him in the face. He slips on the soft moss, falling back and striking his head on a nearby tree. The arrow, however, flies true. It strikes the fruit with sufficient force to rip it from its stem, pinning it to a vine behind where it once hung.
Korinth, unconscious from his knock to the head, did not see this.
The sounds reaches Silvana's ears and they twitch. What is that? Music?? She lets the sound wash over her as she sits there and it seems to turn from warbling notes to an actual tune and it makes her smile. Sure doesn't fit the scene she thinks to herself amused.
Getting up, she brushes herself off and starts to try to figure out where it is coming from. Across the river there is a cliff that as she looks up...yep, that would be it and oooh... lunch! she licks her lips as she sees the circling flock of birds. As the formation dawns on her, she comes to the conclusion that whomever is making the strange music might be lunch for those birds.
The river. Seriously? Silvana realizes she needs to cross it in order to get to the cliff. As she approaches the beach, she sees several shadows moving within the water and shudders. Great, not only water but who knows what is in there. She heads to the nearest tree and starts climbing... unsure as to why, it just felt right. But as her claws sink into the soft bark, gooey sap discharges around them and starts getting into her paws. She leaps down immediately, frustrated. The sap was extremely sticky and now her feet were becoming completely covered in sand as she paced, trying to figure out how to cross this river.
Her stomach growls... loudly. At least she thought it was loud as she stares up at those birds in the air, but then loud can be relative as the sound behind her clarifies and makes her involuntarily cower. The crash that is heard makes her fear of water and the unknown shadows slip away in comparison and she dives in without a glance behind her.
Fish. Extremely large ones and some smaller ones greet her once she enters the cold water. As she attempts to swim across the river she notices that some of these fish have teeth and she does her best to avoid them. Snagging one on her way out of the water with her claws, she devours it in one gulp as she emerges from the wet.
Shaking the water off for the second time her mood has definitely soured as she heads for the cliff and begins to climb.
Euphemia is startled out of her reverie as one of the birds dives in to gouge a chunk from her arm, ripping a sizable tear in the thin sleeve of her robe. The drone of the bagpipes flags with a squeal of protest and the melody garbles out of existence as the halfling stops playing and jerks her head up, seeing the close-circling flock of toothed birds closing oh. Ach, time to go... they've probably got a nest up here, they're warning me away... or they would have eaten me already... make it quick, lass!
A glance down at her instrument shows her there is a small length of rope tied to either end of the bag, and she slips this over one shoulder, hops to her feet, and, keeping small and silent as halflings are wont, slips furtively through the thick vegetation and runs quickly towards the nearest dip in the terrain. Down, down, better get down, away from the nests... slipping and sliding on the broad-leafed vegetation, and scrambling for handholds along the sandy cliff, Euphemia slowly makes her way downward. The curves of the cliff and the spots of thickest vegetation that she's trying to stick to, to stay out of sight of the flock of birds, steer her down the southeastern face of the cliff.
The birds, meanwhile, seem to indeed have lost sight of their target for the moment, and they circle widely, screeching, looping back in formation several times along the cliffside, not content with the sudden disappearance of the noisy interloper. Their sharp little saurian eyes peeled for anything strange moving along the cliff face...
Euphemia's Stealth 14 contested by Birds' Perception 10
Euphemia's Acrobatics 16
Direction of Descent by d8 Southeast
Korinth's foot twitches. He remains unconscious.
Over the next few minutes Donnyl moves as fast as his little legs will take him along the riverbank, noticing more inhospitable movement in the water as he goes.
"Bother." He says aloud, realizing the river bisects his path toward the sound of the pipes. Still, he continues his path northward in hopes that he'll find a place where he can cross without trouble... But then the pipe music suddenly cuts out.
Donnyl stops running, looks up in the direction he was heading... hoping for the music to resume... but it doesn't. "Oh, double bother." He says, scratching his head with his driftwood stick.
He takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his frustrations... Then, he looks up toward the distant peak. That's where the music was coming from. He's certain of that. For now, at least, he'll use that as his north star and make his way toward it with all possible haste.
DM - Origins - A Level Zero Adventure
DM - Dragons of Stormwreck Isle
The Forge of Fury - Lehmani (L3 Tiefling Cleric, Forge Domain)
Wild Beyond the Witchlight - Fa'amae (L2 Shadar-kai Druid, Circle of the Spores)
Greyhawk - Tilliman Treewick Toadswaddler the First (L1 Gnome Rogue)
Korinth remains unconscious.
Day 1:
Half-dreaming, Shin hums to the time of the distant... tune? Like no song I have heard. Strange blends of sound, shifting from discordant to sublime.
It is not Shin's song, nothing like it in fact, yet a song for battle and magic quick blades as Shin had been taught by his elven master. Hadn't he? Somehow, the goblin, so proud in his quick mind and knowledge and self-professed perfect logic, cannot remember. He opens his eyes blearily.
The little owl nearby regards the goblin, her exasperation almost palpable through her telepathy. Enjoy your dirt nap? Was that part of your "plan" too? Thinking you were hiding from your friends when in fact they ditched you, only to be plucked... the giant bird... dropped in the river... ?
The owl blinks in confusion, as if losing her train of thought. Wizard and familiar regard each other in bafflement. Shin and Pinky-toe. Both realizing at the same time that their memories are fading or faded. Gone. Nothing left except... the book? A... spell book! Shin remembers that distantly. And a small tooth hung about his neck like an amulet. A spell-casting focus! And something else, green and glowing on his already green-skinned arm.
It is too much to process. Shin shakes his head and stands up with a groan, his mind unable to reason through the possibilities, and his bedraggled clothes no match for the slow, unhurried inexorability of the muddy tropical river. Pinky-toe flaps her wings to balance herself on Shin's shoulder as he moves towards the strange music. His pretense at always being logically perfect vanishes as his vision sharpens and eyes widen. Shin takes in the strange, lush landscape around him, listening and watching. Trying to carefully categorize things as interesting, hazardous or necessary to live.
Shin Perception: 24 (rolled in campaign log)
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
Mosquitoes tear at his flesh and caterpillars chew the fringes of his clothes, but still Korinth remains unconscious. There, he dreams. Dreams of warm marshes, full of rich game and wicked beasts. Dreams of noble spirits and ancient groves. Dreams of a quiet fishing nooks and bubbling streams. Dreams of warm hovels, nestled in logs and fragrant stews simmering over fresh-raked coals. He dreams of home, of things he'll forget when inevitably he awakes...
...and of course, he dreams of Keid.
SILVANA
After her encounter with crossing the river, the tabaxi continues her resolute march towards the cliff. Luckily, the jungle doesn't seem as thick here as it was before, and the root-encrusted ground begins to gradually slope upwards as she trudges on. There was so much life here! She could barely see the forest floor past all the creeping vines, vibrant ferns, and decomposing leaves. The only annoyance she encounters on her way are several clouds of mosquitoes that she swears think tabaxi blood must be a delicacy or something. The parasitic little insects are relentless in their pursuit of Silvana.
She finally breaks free from the jungle's grasp and finds herself standing before the towering cliff she had set as her destination, it's shadow cloaking Sillvana's surroundings in darkness as it blocks out the rising morning sun. Craning her neck to look up, she sees that the rough cliff face is plastered with all sorts of life: creeping vines, springy mosses, ferns growing in craggy recesses, a person climbing down the cliffside, colorful exotic flowers- wait, that's a person up there! Near the top of the cliff, she spots a diminutive person dressed in similar threadbare clothes nimbly making their way down the cliffside, staying to the more vegetated parts of the cliff to hide from the pack of birds overhead. You would say that they're about 150 feet up, but the cliff begins to not be so steep where the figure is, so they don't have to do as much climbing as before.
ATAX
After his harrowing encounter with the spider, the lizardfolk hastily continues his trek towards the sound of music, but it suddenly cuts off for some reason. Luckily, Atax figured out that the song must have come from the top of a nearby rock cliff jutting from the ground. As he makes his way through tall jungle grasses and shrubs with morning sun warming his back, he catches sight of someone half-climbing and half-sliding down one side of the cliff.
SHIN
Taking in their surroundings, the goblin and his owl familiar begin their hesitant journey towards the music. Shin quickly realizes that the music seems to be coming from atop a cliff rising above the treetops in the near distance. Straining his eyes, he thinks he might see a diminutive figure standing atop the cliff, and he watches as they begin to descend down one side of the cliff. Maybe they're trying to escape from the flock of birds circling above rock outcropping?
With his destination now in mind, he picks up his pace through the jungle undergrowth. He spots a patch of innocent looking vines sprouting pointed leaves growing over trees and shrubs up ahead, growing thick enough to obscure the forest floor. He recognizes it as razorvine, a nasty pest of a plant that had a tendency to shred anything that touched. Accordingly, the goblin wisely walks around the patch. He quickly arrives at a muddy river barring his path. While he couldn't tell how deep it was, it was fairly wide. Thankfully, Shin doesn't spot any wildlife that he would call dangerous, but with his observant eye, he does spot a corner of some sort of box peeking out from under the arching roots of a nearby tree.
DONNYL
The halfling man scurries along the muddy riverbank towards his destination. Along his way, he doesn't spot much wildlife; everything must be hiding from the unexpected music that had drawn you in this direction. Thankfully, Donnyl finds a section of the river that wasn't as wide as the other sections he had seen so far. This was a good as a place as any to cross its murky depths. On the other side, the trees stand far apart from each other and eventually disappear as the ground slopes upward to form the cliff. Through the thin copse of trees, he spots a figure moving towards the cliff who wears similar clothes to the ones you're wearing, except this person seems to be covered in fur and a tail swishes through the air behind them. You're too far away to pick out any specific details, but at least it's confirmed you're not alone here!
EEUPHEMIA
The halfling woman deftly makes her way down the cliff escaping from the birds. To her surprise, she spots someone on the ground below her!
ALL
Spotting no one else to feast upon, the predatory birds squawk in annoyance as they disband and fly off in separate directions in search of food in other places.
He stirs with a snort, lurching forward into a fetal stance as Korinth's faculties return to him. He rubs his head, wincing as his hand grazes a sizeable lump on the back of his skull. He looks up, eyes quickly adjusting to the change in light. Time's changed. And the music's stopped. Maybe the animal they were strangling finally croaked, he mused. He stands up slowly, stretching, aching slightly. He peers around, spotting his loosed arrow, now embedded through a fly-coated fruit and stuck deep in a thick vine.
With a quick twist and a sharp tug, he pulls the arrow free from it's target, marveling at the minute accuracy. At this he pauses, considering. At last, he opts to try again. He steps over to his discarded bow, scooping it up and readying his arrow once more. The throb of his head plays a stark reminder, leading him to tighten his grip. Shaking his head again, he aims and looses. Too early. The arrow flies wide, snapping against a low branch. "Damn!" he shouts. "One more!".
This time, he's slower, more steadied. He knocks his next arrow, pulls taut, and aims. He takes a deep breath, holds... and releases! The arrow flies straight and true, burying itself deep in the trunk of the fruits' tree. It won't be retrievable, but it's a worthwhile loss. "One more..." he whispers, knocking the next one fluidly, instinctively. He needs no time to aim now. His reflex has returned. He pulls his bow taut, steadies and fires. The arrow hits mere inches from the last, but shallower. He approaches and pulls it free. Smiling and musing at his newfound skill, he turns, heading back for the river...