Chronicles of the Accursed Campaign Thread (Group 1)

"I'm sorry for your losses captain..." The red-haired half-elf says with sincere sympathy. "...if it is any consolation your sacrifices will hopefully have helped in thwarting a madman's plans to plunge the world into tyranny and darkness." She adds, briefly placing a comforting hand on the captain's shoulder. "We would be most grateful if you could bring us ashore once more captain." 

"I'm really sorry, Fox, dear..." Duwamilly joins in the demonstration of solidarity with the poor captain "I had no idea that you and the crew got involved in the attack that was launched against Shaded Isle... Really not a very useful move, on the part of the Cultists, considering that they must have known that you had already made us disembark... I really don't understand..."

'Yeah, not very useful...' the ex-Preceptor becomes suspicious 'Unless...'

"But, well, one thing comes to my mind, Fox! Do you remember the joke I told you when we first met?" the gnome cleric asks, smiling "The one with the drunken shark?"

[[ OOC: The first time they met, Duwamilly had actually told him a joke about a pirate captain - not a drunken shark. Duwamilly just wants to make sure that Fox is really Fox - and not Firion who may have polymorphed after taking over the ship and massacring Fox and the crew. If Fox is Fox, since he was amused by Duwamilly's joke, he should remember that it wasn't about a drunken shark — and point it out. But if Fox isn't Fox... he'll probably pretend to remember that joke which Duwamily never actually told! ]]

Delvindra can't help but be drawn to the sacks.

Having lived at an Ilmateri monastery she was no stranger to death. Some wounds didn't heal, some illnesses could not be cured, and, in time, the gods inevitably claimed their own.

During her time with the Accursed she had even learned to accept violent death, even wholesale slaughter.

Of Firion's minions.

Of the defenders of the Shaded Isle.

But this was something different. For the first time it was people that she had lived alongside in the tight confines of the ship. People whose names she knew...with whom she'd shared meals and stories.

People who had died for her and the other Accursed.

Delvindra sinks to her knees among the sacks and begins to pray to Ilmater for the first time in a long time. Longer than she realized. Far longer than she would care to admit.

When the tears come they are as much for herself as they are for the departed.

The Captain seems a little bit surprised when Duwamilly mentions a joke that she told him when they met... then realization dawns on his face.

"You mean the joke about the drunken pirate," he says. "I suppose you feared that we were all replaced with the Cult's spies... I wouldn't doubt they would stoop to such a low, but I suspect we simply got caught up because they assumed that we were part of the Baron's fleet."

He sighs tiredly and takes a seat on a nearby barrel.

"In any case, I still hold out hope that there may be Clerics on the island powerful enough to restore at least a few of my crew to life... but with the number who died today, I doubt that a band of smugglers will be given very high priority."

Not wanting to disturb her in her prayers, Yasmina glances over at the mourning tiefling. She too felt saddened by the loss of innocent lives, but perhaps unlike the others in her team she had winessed her fair share of atrocities in her young life, and while she had never known a threat like this she had been hardened to the sights of wrongs, and these days they merely strengthened her resolve to fight back. Letting the ex-preceptor deal with the captain, the red-haired half-elf finds another barrel to hop up on, her snake staff resting across her lap, waiting for the ship to take them ashore. Meanwhile Al-Asfeh is fluttering around far above, scanning the sky and the sea for approaching threats.

Al-Asfeh perception: 11

"You're a smart kid, aren't you, Fox?" Duwamilly smiles "You guessed my intentions perfectly. After all, they did already use shapechangers, we all know all too well".

"But you are also a very good kid who would haven't deserved all these troubles," the ex-Preceptor takes on a determined look "and I'll take care that you and your men are not left behind! You'll have the priority a good, brave and selfless person deserves!"

Recovering her composure, Delvindra drifts over to the Yasmina.

"I see Milly's handling things with Fox. Do you think she'll let him get a word in to give the order and get us under way?"

She does her best to fake a smile, hoping to hide her perceived weakness from her more reserved companion.

"To be honest, with all we put them through I'm just glad Fox isn't having us sewn into sacks and buried at sea alongside the others," she says with what is meant to be a darkly humorous tone.

The red-haired half-elf grins at the tiefling. "I doubt it, we should expect being stuck at sea until Milly goes to sleep." She says with a small chuckle, glancing over at the captain and the chatty ex-preceptor. "Fox and his crew have been through more than they bargained for, but he's a sensible man, no one expected all of this." She says in a somewhat reassuring tone, glancing over at the destruction on the Shaded isle. "We should see to it that Fox is relieved of his duties though, worry about us instead, we have probably only seen the beginning of this and I doubt we will have much rest until Firion is dealt with, one way or the other." She finishes a bit grimly.

"But it will be over soon, won't it? Once the curse is lifted we can give the items to Lord Akkron to destroy or use against Firion," the Tiefling responds as her tail reflexively coiling around her leg.

"It's never been about us. Not really. We were all just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even if Firion wants revenge for what we've done, we're just a distraction from his ultimate goal."

"Well, imagine we manage to lift the curses and stop Firion's plans, I doubt he would just give up being an evil maniac. Ultimately he has to be confronted and dealt with, and while I've never was any kind of heroine I will not be able to walk away from that impending battle. He will continue to ruthlessly kill innocents like this crew to achive whatever his next insane goal would be." Yasmina says bitterly. "I'm sorry, one thing at a time, let's hope we will be able to lift our curses and worry about Firion later."

Intended or not, the Half-Elf's words chastise the Tiefling and she hangs her head in shame.

"You're right. This won't end. Not as long as Firion and his cult continue to do evil. It was wrong to imagine turning my back on this."

"I guess I'm just finally starting to imagine a life after the curse..."

"There's nothing wrong with hoping for a better tomorrow, especially for one such as you who don't seem to think you deserve it." Yasmina says with a teasing smile. "I wouldn't say you have ever turned your back on anything though, I'm more worried about you finding an excuse to please your silly god by sacrificing yourself. If you insist on going through with that could you please save it for the battle with Firion himself at least." She continues in a joking tone.

"It's not silly," Delvindra sulks, "but don't worry, I'm in no rush to see what the afterlife holds."

Cal will be meditating and sending a prayer to the Gods with his rod-led on his lap on the bow on the boat. 

If Fox manages to bring the Accursed back to Shaded Isle without difficulty, Duwamilly immediately proceeds to look for news of Elmar Erickson (the mayor) and Bridgette (the Half-Orc she-Warlock of Matic).

If she finds at least one of the two, the ex-preceptor inquires from them about how fierce the battle against the invading forces was and how high the blood toll paid by the defenders was. And she takes the opportunity to also point out the serious and unjust consequences suffered by Fox and his crew, asking that the right attention be given to them.

After that, the gnome cleric tries to see Lord Akkron as soon as possible, so that she can finally begin the procedure to free the Accursed (herself included) from their Curses...

Delvindra helps Duwamilly look for Bridgette. Having carried both a message and danger to the Shaded Isle, she feels a responsibility to be the one that informs Sister Eila if any misfortune struck her friend.

"I should go to the temple and help with the wounded," she tells the others afterwards, "come get me when we're ready to leave the isle."

Yasmina is not untouched by the death and destruction on the shaded isle but she keeps her dark thoughts to herself, heading for the tavern to see if she could get some wine while she waits for the others to make the trek back to the lich's fortress.

Bridgette isn't especially difficult to find...

She is, along with many others, at the temple doing her best to recover from the grueling ordeal. She's laying back on a pile of pillows, with several nasty wounds. As the tiefling monk approaches, the half-orc groans and opens her eyes.

"Did... did we do it?" she asks tiredly.

As for the Mayor, he is doing much better. As the civilian leader of the settlement, it was his task to guide and protect the citizens rather than engage Firion's cultists directly. He looks more exhausted than anything else, aside from a minor wound on his shoulder he received from a stray arrow while helping to corral terrified citizens during the battle, but he is proud to inform whoever asks that there have been no (known) civilian casualties during the battle.

Overall, it is estimated that about 300 defenders (between the Baron's soldiers and the Shaded Isle's local guards and spellcasters) were killed in the battle, and the death toll could have easily been far higher without the extensive preparations that were made for this conflict. No one is sure how many of Firion's cultists were slain.

Meanwhile, Yasmina goes to the bar and finds it in desperate need of repairs as it was seemingly hit by a stray fireball during the battle. Still, the bartender is doing her best to keep spirits up as she hands out drinks.

"Don't concern yourself with the cost," the elvish woman tells Yasmina with a tired smile. "His Lordship thought everyone would need a good drink after what they've been through, so he was kind enough to grant me enough gold to cover for anyone who wants to partake tonight."

"Thanks..." The red-haired half-elf says and takes a sip of her wine. "...sorry to see your nice bar being damaged in the battle, but I think people will come here anyway. Some celebration should be in order after repulsing the vicious attack of that madman." She continues, leaning in over the bar counter to relax, looking around if there are any familiar faces there. "You wouldn't have some cheese, grapes and crackers to go with this?" She says after a moment, raising her glass of wine.

Duwamilly congratulates Mr. Erickson for his excellent work but points out that, even if they are not residents of Shaded Isle, there were innocent victims... and tells him of the losses suffered by the Fox's crew, begging him to do everything possible so that the available clerics can take care of them. And, if necessary, she insists on begging until, exhausted for words, Mr. Erickson accepts.

Finding Bridgette so distressed is both a relief for the ex-preceptor and a pain... she hoped that it would have been possible to better care for the heroic warlock - but probably the few clerics available had to concentrate their sacred energies on cases even more desperate, perhaps still in danger of their lives.

"Of course we did it!" the gnome cleric tries to convey joy and enthusiasm to her "And you'll feel better soon, I'm sure!" and she addresses a brief amused prayer to Garl Glittergold, then places her hands on the poor half-orc girl... who immediately feels an inexplicable but pleasant sensation of good humor and well-being.

[[ OOC: Duwamilly casts Cure Wounds to ease the suffering of the heroic warlock ]]