The lizardfolk's head separates from its shoulders, its valiant final stand put to a blunt end by the sharp blade of Auriel's halberd. A raucous cheer comes from the prisoners aboard the raft, quickly shushed by a pair of nervous halflings looking wildly around the marsh for any further enemies. "They have scouts around, remember!?"
"Bah!" The dwarf who had hugged Sylyra ignores the caution, shouting toward the others on the keelboat, "Get over 'ere now, Rolk's got a big grateful hug for each o' ye!"
One human woman and the other dwarf man finish freeing themselves from the nets and hop into the muck around the raft, searching through the knotted and tangled flora. "Find us something we can use to smack' em with!" Rolk shouts toward them. "That's what we're doing, Rolk, you dolt," the woman responds.
OOC: Characters have each received 140 XP for ambushing and defeating the lizardfolk.
Carl moves forward as fast as he can, getting to the raft, wading when needed, saying hurriedly to the dwarves who were recently captives. “Fuselad, any o you know Fuselad Bigtoe? Have any of ya seen him?” He looks at all of them, helping them get out, freeing them from any remaining bonds. He turns to Sylyra, “Awesome work there, my friend. Really amazing.” He looks the captives over for any familiar faces or similar features..
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
When the lizardfolk finally falls to Auriel's strike, Hex lets out a sigh on relief and makes her way to the raft. Just for fun, she pops her Hunter's Mark onto Sylyra. She watches with a smile as the captives seem to be quite energetic despite everything they've been through. "Its good to see you all still have some energy left. My name's Hex, my companions and I were hired to look for the people the lizardfolk kidnapped. You wouldn't have happened find anything out while captured, would you?"
As the last of the lizardfolk falls, Auriel rests the halberd on the ground while emiting a long breath. Finally, the combat was over, and it seemed that none of the captives had been harmed. He smiled and looked to Uragum:
- Indeed they were. But not as stubborn as us! Come on, let's row towards the others, okay?
He begins to do so, and as they move forward and he eyes the former captives that are beginning to move, once again glad that everything has gone so well. That is when he feels it: his heart skips a beat, a warm sensation feels his chest and he'd swear he has felt a strong hand taping his shoulder kindly. The eladrin hasn't felt that before. Could it be? Was it time already? Time to take his divine oath? It was a strange place to do so. Had he been in the Feywild, he would have reached to his mentors and a grand ceremony would have taken place. But the paladin was not home anymore, and the marsh would have to do. Perhaps that night, when he could find a moment of respite he would be able to take his oath. Ceremonies were nice, but definitely not necessary.
When the keelboat reaches the raft, Auriel says nothing, still lost in the feeling that hasn't yet abandoned him. So he just smiles at the captives and lets the rest do the talking.
Sylyra is at first put off by the captives jumping into the swamp, but then he can appreciate their action after revealing their desire for weapons. "I have some you may borrow," the elf says, sounding unusually kind. He reaches into his pack and starts pulling out equipment: a hammer, a miner's pick, and a shovel. "We need to get them out of the swamp as quickly as possible," he says, turning to Hex. "We can escort them to the mouth of the swamp and then come back for the others." Piggybacking on Hex's question for intelligence, he asks the closest farmer, "How many others are there?"
"A strong showing by all. Good work comes from good hands and all that," Uragum says to them all as the crafts come together. Then after a bit of rummaging with the lizardfolk near by he pulls together some of their weapons. "I don't think the captors will mind if we take their weapons, at least not now. Oh and those with these blowguns, careful of the darts, they are powerful paralytics."
"Eh, Fuselad? He's been taken too?" the dwarf in the marsh rips off a knotted root and swings it like a makeshift club. "Wondered why we ain't seen 'im in a while. The name's Nik," he introduces himself to Carlthuzad. "Yer a friend o' his, or a Bigtoe yerself?"
Rolk, the other dwarf, proudly thumbs his chest when Hex asks her question. "Ole Rolk here understands a bit o' Draconic. These lizardfolk are havin' some sort o' contest. Three clans of 'em. Seems the winner is the clan that takes the most captives. They've been at it since the drums began a tenday ago, and apparently it ends in a few nights," he says. He scratches his head, in thought for a moment, then adds, "Never said what the prize was, though."
The human woman in the marsh abandons her quest for a makeshift weapon and heeds Uragum's words. She and a human man, along with one of the halfling women, leave the blowguns where they lay but pick up javelins and clubs from fallen lizardfolk, feeling their heft. One of the human men begins distributing oars and logs to the remaining humans and halflings. "We can find our way out, I think. Should be safe enough until nightfall," he says to Sylyra. "I don't know how many others have been taken or where they've gone. Rolk might, though...apparently he can understand the lizardfolk."
Hex's eyes brighten as Rolk tells them of the lizardfolk's contest. "That mean there's a more than likely chance all their captives are still alive... well at least a better chance than I thought before." However, her brow furrows as one of the human men suggests leaving with escort. "I don't know... the marsh has more dangers than lizardfolk. We almost lost Carl to a giant toad." She gives the group of captives a thorough up and down, trying to ascertain how likely they could survive getting back to civilization safely.
(How many captives are there and do they look like they could hold their own against a fight?)
Carl says “I’m a Bigtoe meself, came here to these parts to look for Fuselad, then heard about all this then. The drum beats and so forth.” He turns his head when Rolk starts to speak, “A contest eh? Barbarians. Hey Rolk, d’ya want to come join us, maybe translate more for us and hunt them down? After whatcha been through I kin understand if you don’t, but it’d be good to understand what they’re up to.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Bah, ye don't need an old miner to slow ye down. Think I've figgered out what's goin' on though. I know the names o' their clans and everything! Their drums call out the leading clan somehow, tell the others which one's got the most captives. Them lizards' wouldn't shut up about it," Rolk says as he straightens proudly.
"We all come from farms 'round here," one of the human men says to Hex. "We stay away from the marsh if we can, but we know how to get out of it, that's for sure."
For Hex:
The freed captives seem unnerved by your description of the marsh's dangers but resolute. Only a handful of them look like they could be capable fighters with their makeshift weapons, but it's very unlikely any could hold a candle to a true adventurer.
As the captives all pick up other items, Sylyra retrieves his tools and stows them away with a scowl. "They say they can take care of themselves; I say we keep going."
(Oops I just realised I have a typo in my last post, I meant "leaving WITHOUT escort", in case anyone misunderstood haha)
Hex still looks a bit hesitant at letting the freed captives return home alone but relents as time is of the essence and she would rather not have the still captured wait longer for their hopeful rescue. She turns to Rolk as he mentions knowing 'the names o the clans and everything'. "Any information you can tell us would be helpful. Do you know which clan is currently winning the contest?"
Auriel doesn't feel good about letting the villagers return on their own, and is about to express his idea when Sylyra says to keep going. But then again, these are not the only villagers that have been taken and time is indeed of the essence. So he just frowns, but nods along.
- I wish we could escort you back to town safely - he says to the group they're talking to - but it's best if we keep moving to find more captives. May Tyr be with you.
As the other keep talking, the eladrin checks the bodies of the closer lizardfolks. The villagers have already removed their weapons, but do they have anything else of value on them? Also, do they have any distinguishing marks or tattoos indicating the tribe they belong to?
Rolk taps his chin and thinks when Hex asks about the leading clan. "Nah, haven't figgered that part out yet. The clans are the Rootwaters, the Muckmarsh, and the Dusk-Dusk; these were the Rootwaters what took us. From what I could tell they're none too happy about this contest. They wouldn't shut up about wanting to eat us, but I guess they aren't allowed to until the contest is over," he says. "Hmm, what else..." he mutters before continuing.
"Something powerful attacked the lizardfolk and killed their king. Scalecrusher, they been callin' him, but somethin' crushed his scales and got them all in a tizzy. Best I can tell that's what kicked this all off. They been pushin' us steadily in the same direction for days before you all got here to save the day. I been assuming it leads to this place they've been mentioning, but I don't know if I've been gettin' the translation right. The Ringcurrent Islands? One of 'em in particular they call the Island of the Lizard King."
"I think that's about all I gleaned," he concludes.
Looking over the bodies of the fallen lizardfolk while the conversation continues, Auriel does not see anything that might distinguish these lizardfolk from others, but finds around a dozen of their poisoned darts among them. They seem notably primitive; their weapons and shields are hand carved and contain no metal, and their clothing is minimal and rancid.
Urgaum sighs and brings his hand up to the bridge up of his nose. "It's a dragon. I'm going to say it right now... Someone/ something killed a leader call Scalecrusher and it's to them in a tissy and all the other lizardfolk are following it. Dragon. Everything is about dragons..."
Hex nods in agreement with Uragum. "Honestly, I've been thinking the same thing."
"Well, thanks for the information, Rolk. Here, take this." She pulls out the blanket and lantern given to her by Romsan and offers it to the dwarf. "You guys will need this more than we would. It's not much but hopefully it helps. Please, stay safe."
Once the freed captives go on their way, Hex walks around and tries to recover what arrows she can. (Saying this now because I know I'll forget if I don't! Don't feel pressured to move on from the scene if there's still stuff you wanna do or say.)
- So that Island of the Lizard King is where they've been sending all the captives? Anyone knows where is it exactly? How far is it from here? - Auriel asks, thinking that they should have probably left one of the lizardfolk alive to question him. (Rolling history in case the name of the island and the king rings any kind of bell: 22)
Then he asks:
- I've collected a few poisonous darts. Might come in handy? Anyone wants to keep any?
He offers this to his companions but doesn't exclude the villagers, who might want some of the darts for their journey back home through the marsh.
Rolk wraps Hex's waist in a hug, and takes the blanket and lantern to the raft. None among the villagers want any of the poisoned darts - "None o' us are practiced in lizardfolk blowguns, I'm afraid," Nik responds.
The name of the island wouldn't ring a bell to Auriel - there is little known about the area this deep into the Twilight Marsh.
“A dragon…” Carl repeats as he stands and pulls on his beard, twirling the ends up with his fingers and he chews the inside of his cheek. “We need to think about tha. Gotta be careful, yeah? Hmm.” He holds his hand up declining the poisonous darts. He looks off into the trees as if distracted. “We should be headin on too. I could do with a little rest though, I imagine.”
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A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
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The lizardfolk's head separates from its shoulders, its valiant final stand put to a blunt end by the sharp blade of Auriel's halberd. A raucous cheer comes from the prisoners aboard the raft, quickly shushed by a pair of nervous halflings looking wildly around the marsh for any further enemies. "They have scouts around, remember!?"
"Bah!" The dwarf who had hugged Sylyra ignores the caution, shouting toward the others on the keelboat, "Get over 'ere now, Rolk's got a big grateful hug for each o' ye!"
One human woman and the other dwarf man finish freeing themselves from the nets and hop into the muck around the raft, searching through the knotted and tangled flora. "Find us something we can use to smack' em with!" Rolk shouts toward them. "That's what we're doing, Rolk, you dolt," the woman responds.
OOC: Characters have each received 140 XP for ambushing and defeating the lizardfolk.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Carl moves forward as fast as he can, getting to the raft, wading when needed, saying hurriedly to the dwarves who were recently captives. “Fuselad, any o you know Fuselad Bigtoe? Have any of ya seen him?” He looks at all of them, helping them get out, freeing them from any remaining bonds. He turns to Sylyra, “Awesome work there, my friend. Really amazing.” He looks the captives over for any familiar faces or similar features..
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
When the lizardfolk finally falls to Auriel's strike, Hex lets out a sigh on relief and makes her way to the raft. Just for fun, she pops her Hunter's Mark onto Sylyra. She watches with a smile as the captives seem to be quite energetic despite everything they've been through. "Its good to see you all still have some energy left. My name's Hex, my companions and I were hired to look for the people the lizardfolk kidnapped. You wouldn't have happened find anything out while captured, would you?"
As the last of the lizardfolk falls, Auriel rests the halberd on the ground while emiting a long breath. Finally, the combat was over, and it seemed that none of the captives had been harmed. He smiled and looked to Uragum:
- Indeed they were. But not as stubborn as us! Come on, let's row towards the others, okay?
He begins to do so, and as they move forward and he eyes the former captives that are beginning to move, once again glad that everything has gone so well. That is when he feels it: his heart skips a beat, a warm sensation feels his chest and he'd swear he has felt a strong hand taping his shoulder kindly. The eladrin hasn't felt that before. Could it be? Was it time already? Time to take his divine oath? It was a strange place to do so. Had he been in the Feywild, he would have reached to his mentors and a grand ceremony would have taken place. But the paladin was not home anymore, and the marsh would have to do. Perhaps that night, when he could find a moment of respite he would be able to take his oath. Ceremonies were nice, but definitely not necessary.
When the keelboat reaches the raft, Auriel says nothing, still lost in the feeling that hasn't yet abandoned him. So he just smiles at the captives and lets the rest do the talking.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Sylyra is at first put off by the captives jumping into the swamp, but then he can appreciate their action after revealing their desire for weapons. "I have some you may borrow," the elf says, sounding unusually kind. He reaches into his pack and starts pulling out equipment: a hammer, a miner's pick, and a shovel. "We need to get them out of the swamp as quickly as possible," he says, turning to Hex. "We can escort them to the mouth of the swamp and then come back for the others." Piggybacking on Hex's question for intelligence, he asks the closest farmer, "How many others are there?"
"A strong showing by all. Good work comes from good hands and all that," Uragum says to them all as the crafts come together. Then after a bit of rummaging with the lizardfolk near by he pulls together some of their weapons. "I don't think the captors will mind if we take their weapons, at least not now. Oh and those with these blowguns, careful of the darts, they are powerful paralytics."
"Eh, Fuselad? He's been taken too?" the dwarf in the marsh rips off a knotted root and swings it like a makeshift club. "Wondered why we ain't seen 'im in a while. The name's Nik," he introduces himself to Carlthuzad. "Yer a friend o' his, or a Bigtoe yerself?"
Rolk, the other dwarf, proudly thumbs his chest when Hex asks her question. "Ole Rolk here understands a bit o' Draconic. These lizardfolk are havin' some sort o' contest. Three clans of 'em. Seems the winner is the clan that takes the most captives. They've been at it since the drums began a tenday ago, and apparently it ends in a few nights," he says. He scratches his head, in thought for a moment, then adds, "Never said what the prize was, though."
The human woman in the marsh abandons her quest for a makeshift weapon and heeds Uragum's words. She and a human man, along with one of the halfling women, leave the blowguns where they lay but pick up javelins and clubs from fallen lizardfolk, feeling their heft. One of the human men begins distributing oars and logs to the remaining humans and halflings. "We can find our way out, I think. Should be safe enough until nightfall," he says to Sylyra. "I don't know how many others have been taken or where they've gone. Rolk might, though...apparently he can understand the lizardfolk."
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Hex's eyes brighten as Rolk tells them of the lizardfolk's contest. "That mean there's a more than likely chance all their captives are still alive... well at least a better chance than I thought before." However, her brow furrows as one of the human men suggests leaving with escort. "I don't know... the marsh has more dangers than lizardfolk. We almost lost Carl to a giant toad." She gives the group of captives a thorough up and down, trying to ascertain how likely they could survive getting back to civilization safely.
(How many captives are there and do they look like they could hold their own against a fight?)
Carl says “I’m a Bigtoe meself, came here to these parts to look for Fuselad, then heard about all this then. The drum beats and so forth.” He turns his head when Rolk starts to speak, “A contest eh? Barbarians. Hey Rolk, d’ya want to come join us, maybe translate more for us and hunt them down? After whatcha been through I kin understand if you don’t, but it’d be good to understand what they’re up to.”
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
"Bah, ye don't need an old miner to slow ye down. Think I've figgered out what's goin' on though. I know the names o' their clans and everything! Their drums call out the leading clan somehow, tell the others which one's got the most captives. Them lizards' wouldn't shut up about it," Rolk says as he straightens proudly.
"We all come from farms 'round here," one of the human men says to Hex. "We stay away from the marsh if we can, but we know how to get out of it, that's for sure."
For Hex:
The freed captives seem unnerved by your description of the marsh's dangers but resolute. Only a handful of them look like they could be capable fighters with their makeshift weapons, but it's very unlikely any could hold a candle to a true adventurer.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
As the captives all pick up other items, Sylyra retrieves his tools and stows them away with a scowl. "They say they can take care of themselves; I say we keep going."
(Oops I just realised I have a typo in my last post, I meant "leaving WITHOUT escort", in case anyone misunderstood haha)
Hex still looks a bit hesitant at letting the freed captives return home alone but relents as time is of the essence and she would rather not have the still captured wait longer for their hopeful rescue. She turns to Rolk as he mentions knowing 'the names o the clans and everything'. "Any information you can tell us would be helpful. Do you know which clan is currently winning the contest?"
Carl says “Alright. Head on back home but be safe.” He nods when Hex speaks, saying “Any tips or anything your heard, translated would be helpful.”
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.
Auriel doesn't feel good about letting the villagers return on their own, and is about to express his idea when Sylyra says to keep going. But then again, these are not the only villagers that have been taken and time is indeed of the essence. So he just frowns, but nods along.
- I wish we could escort you back to town safely - he says to the group they're talking to - but it's best if we keep moving to find more captives. May Tyr be with you.
As the other keep talking, the eladrin checks the bodies of the closer lizardfolks. The villagers have already removed their weapons, but do they have anything else of value on them? Also, do they have any distinguishing marks or tattoos indicating the tribe they belong to?
(Investigation: 19)
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Rolk taps his chin and thinks when Hex asks about the leading clan. "Nah, haven't figgered that part out yet. The clans are the Rootwaters, the Muckmarsh, and the Dusk-Dusk; these were the Rootwaters what took us. From what I could tell they're none too happy about this contest. They wouldn't shut up about wanting to eat us, but I guess they aren't allowed to until the contest is over," he says. "Hmm, what else..." he mutters before continuing.
"Something powerful attacked the lizardfolk and killed their king. Scalecrusher, they been callin' him, but somethin' crushed his scales and got them all in a tizzy. Best I can tell that's what kicked this all off. They been pushin' us steadily in the same direction for days before you all got here to save the day. I been assuming it leads to this place they've been mentioning, but I don't know if I've been gettin' the translation right. The Ringcurrent Islands? One of 'em in particular they call the Island of the Lizard King."
"I think that's about all I gleaned," he concludes.
Looking over the bodies of the fallen lizardfolk while the conversation continues, Auriel does not see anything that might distinguish these lizardfolk from others, but finds around a dozen of their poisoned darts among them. They seem notably primitive; their weapons and shields are hand carved and contain no metal, and their clothing is minimal and rancid.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
Urgaum sighs and brings his hand up to the bridge up of his nose. "It's a dragon. I'm going to say it right now... Someone/ something killed a leader call Scalecrusher and it's to them in a tissy and all the other lizardfolk are following it. Dragon. Everything is about dragons..."
Hex nods in agreement with Uragum. "Honestly, I've been thinking the same thing."
"Well, thanks for the information, Rolk. Here, take this." She pulls out the blanket and lantern given to her by Romsan and offers it to the dwarf. "You guys will need this more than we would. It's not much but hopefully it helps. Please, stay safe."
Once the freed captives go on their way, Hex walks around and tries to recover what arrows she can. (Saying this now because I know I'll forget if I don't! Don't feel pressured to move on from the scene if there's still stuff you wanna do or say.)
- So that Island of the Lizard King is where they've been sending all the captives? Anyone knows where is it exactly? How far is it from here? - Auriel asks, thinking that they should have probably left one of the lizardfolk alive to question him. (Rolling history in case the name of the island and the king rings any kind of bell: 22)
Then he asks:
- I've collected a few poisonous darts. Might come in handy? Anyone wants to keep any?
He offers this to his companions but doesn't exclude the villagers, who might want some of the darts for their journey back home through the marsh.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren | Lyra
Rolk wraps Hex's waist in a hug, and takes the blanket and lantern to the raft. None among the villagers want any of the poisoned darts - "None o' us are practiced in lizardfolk blowguns, I'm afraid," Nik responds.
The name of the island wouldn't ring a bell to Auriel - there is little known about the area this deep into the Twilight Marsh.
See my profile for all my PbP threads!
“A dragon…” Carl repeats as he stands and pulls on his beard, twirling the ends up with his fingers and he chews the inside of his cheek. “We need to think about tha. Gotta be careful, yeah? Hmm.” He holds his hand up declining the poisonous darts. He looks off into the trees as if distracted. “We should be headin on too. I could do with a little rest though, I imagine.”
A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to.