Nevertheless, everyone now at least has relief from the swarms, even if their ears are ringing just a tad. Despite Korbiña's affections on the young maiden, Sceilie remains reticent. The impact of leaving one's home can be a trying time, to be sure. She doesn't mean to spurn her doting partner, though she certainly feels like that's what she's doing. Regardless, she speaks not a word, silently plodding aside Korbiña as the group fight both exhaustion and profuse amounts of sucking, sticky mud.
The remaining trip is one of silence, save for wet sucking of black muck and wet slaps of tired, heavy feet. However, after several kilometers, the troupe finds relief: beyond jutting stone and winding roots, mud turns to sand and clay. It's a natural bluff. Solid earth kisses the soles of mud-soaked shoes like the blessings of some primordial goddess, and the party is free to find rest, perhaps sleep, if they so choose to.
Still, the site is not clear and there is work to be done. Stones dot the clearing, sharp and fine, like needles ready to stab the unwary. A fire needs to be lit and clothes need to be cleaned. Everyone, even the Lizard in his shorts, is currently coated and soaked in the worst kind of rotted, scum-filled muck.
Seeing Lelantus making a fire Korbiña, physically exhaused, gently sits down Sceilie where there is enough space between the sharp stones and stands in the middle of this blessed place, her eyes and staff-crystal shining brightly as she intones a few words, raising her hand palm up... a spectrally translucent twin of her hand rising up that begins floating around picking up stones to place them at the border of the firm grounded clearing... stone after stone... to make this blessed place even more of a blessing.
Fire. It's simple enough, even here. The rogue is quick to help gather and clear the stones, setting a few handfuls in the middle of the clearing. He arranges them into a circle and goes about to find kindling. Luckily, there's plenty of dry vines and dead wood about. The halfling makes quick work of gathering what he can and arranging in a particular fashion, that it might burn easier. Now he needs only a means to light it...
Korbiña passes Lelantus the tinderbox from her pouch and goes back to removing stones from the clearing.
Tedium is tedious, obviously, but it all pays off in the end. Soon enough, a stony bluff becomes soft, tender ground. And with Lelantus' fire beginning to burn bright, all that's left is to clean, lest the mud dry on the party's skin. It's everywhere and beginning to tingle against their flesh – not in any pleasant manner, either!
Korbiña sits down by the fire, hoping that Sceilie will sit in front of her at a comfortable distance to the flames, so she can rub her scaly arms and shoulders, beginning to get dried patches of mud off her, and peeling it from the crevices between her scales, while for now ignoring her own discomfort for now... Scalie being at the very front of her mind currently... not forcing anything on her, just being there for her... holding her ... grooming her...
The Dragonborn allows her, for a moment. She then stands and turns, putting her back to the blaze and her tail to her side, her eyes meeting those of her tiefling."Thou doest not need fawn o'er me so."She wets her thumb with a lick and reaches out, wiping flecks of mud from Korbiña's face. Her smile is warm, her eyes deep and bright:"Let someone else worry for thee for a change,"she whispers, wiping mud from the sorceress's shoulders, her hair, her face, her arms. Sceilie's smile indicates nothing is being forced upon her, least of all Korbiña.
With a bright smile Korbiña sits down in front of Sceilue and lets her do the grooming and mud picking, happy that Sceilie has found her voice again, but not saying anything about it.
She enjoys the grooming session thoroughly, until she notices Lelantus sticking his hand into the fire... blinking for a moment to see what happens... then jumping up with a loud "Oh No!" pulling him back... well trying to as her physique is pretty weak in the muscle department, but at least trying to get a look into his eyes...
Korbiña waves a hand in front of Lelantus' eyes "Lelantus are you there? ... Sceilie? Would you sit on the other side of him? Just so he does not jump into thr fire unexpectedly..."
She fetches her healer's kit and waterskin to at least clean Lelantus burns and put some ointment on them so it will heal better.
Then proceeds to get the iron pot from Sceilie's backpack, set it on the fire, fill it with water and then begin to cook a soup from rations she gets from people's backpacks.
Korbiña sighs deeply sitting down at the iron pot she set up gor cooking and continues to make a thick soup for everyone... thinking that this might be the last full meal in a while as rations might need to be stretched in the coming days if the swamp continues like this...
Korbiña sighs deeply sitting down at the iron pot she set up gor cooking and continues to make a thick soup for everyone... thinking that this might be the last full meal in a while as rations might need to be stretched in the coming days if the swamp continues like this...
As if in reassurance, a soft scaled hand wraps over Korbiña's hand. She feels another wrap around her stomach from behind, drawing her into a warm half-hug. The first hand slowly helps her scrape and stir her makeshift meal. The other keeps her close, so that a sweet voice overflowing in confidence can whisper in her ear,"As I hath said, let someone else worry for thee." The voice seems attached to a certain Dragonborn girl, who despite her bold inclination, appears to have turned quite the serruptitious shade of blushing red. It appears she's trying, for the tiefling's sake, to take account.
Nevertheless, everyone now at least has relief from the swarms, even if their ears are ringing just a tad. Despite Korbiña's affections on the young maiden, Sceilie remains reticent. The impact of leaving one's home can be a trying time, to be sure. She doesn't mean to spurn her doting partner, though she certainly feels like that's what she's doing. Regardless, she speaks not a word, silently plodding aside Korbiña as the group fight both exhaustion and profuse amounts of sucking, sticky mud.
The remaining trip is one of silence, save for wet sucking of black muck and wet slaps of tired, heavy feet. However, after several kilometers, the troupe finds relief: beyond jutting stone and winding roots, mud turns to sand and clay. It's a natural bluff. Solid earth kisses the soles of mud-soaked shoes like the blessings of some primordial goddess, and the party is free to find rest, perhaps sleep, if they so choose to.
Still, the site is not clear and there is work to be done. Stones dot the clearing, sharp and fine, like needles ready to stab the unwary. A fire needs to be lit and clothes need to be cleaned. Everyone, even the Lizard in his shorts, is currently coated and soaked in the worst kind of rotted, scum-filled muck.
Lelantus will build a fire. a beautiful shining warming fire.
[Roll Survival, DC 12]
Seeing Lelantus making a fire Korbiña, physically exhaused, gently sits down Sceilie where there is enough space between the sharp stones and stands in the middle of this blessed place, her eyes and staff-crystal shining brightly as she intones a few words, raising her hand palm up... a spectrally translucent twin of her hand rising up that begins floating around picking up stones to place them at the border of the firm grounded clearing... stone after stone... to make this blessed place even more of a blessing.
16
Fire. It's simple enough, even here. The rogue is quick to help gather and clear the stones, setting a few handfuls in the middle of the clearing. He arranges them into a circle and goes about to find kindling. Luckily, there's plenty of dry vines and dead wood about. The halfling makes quick work of gathering what he can and arranging in a particular fashion, that it might burn easier. Now he needs only a means to light it...
Korbiña passes Lelantus the tinderbox from her pouch and goes back to removing stones from the clearing.
Tedium is tedious, obviously, but it all pays off in the end. Soon enough, a stony bluff becomes soft, tender ground. And with Lelantus' fire beginning to burn bright, all that's left is to clean, lest the mud dry on the party's skin. It's everywhere and beginning to tingle against their flesh – not in any pleasant manner, either!
Lelantus will sit and stare into the fire entranced by its shimmering beauty.
Korbiña sits down by the fire, hoping that Sceilie will sit in front of her at a comfortable distance to the flames, so she can rub her scaly arms and shoulders, beginning to get dried patches of mud off her, and peeling it from the crevices between her scales, while for now ignoring her own discomfort for now... Scalie being at the very front of her mind currently... not forcing anything on her, just being there for her... holding her ... grooming her...
The Dragonborn allows her, for a moment. She then stands and turns, putting her back to the blaze and her tail to her side, her eyes meeting those of her tiefling. "Thou doest not need fawn o'er me so." She wets her thumb with a lick and reaches out, wiping flecks of mud from Korbiña's face. Her smile is warm, her eyes deep and bright: "Let someone else worry for thee for a change," she whispers, wiping mud from the sorceress's shoulders, her hair, her face, her arms. Sceilie's smile indicates nothing is being forced upon her, least of all Korbiña.
Lelantus will reach for the fire
Fire burns. Now is no exception.
[Lelantus takes 2pts of damage (you thought I wouldn't?)]
With a bright smile Korbiña sits down in front of Sceilue and lets her do the grooming and mud picking, happy that Sceilie has found her voice again, but not saying anything about it.
She enjoys the grooming session thoroughly, until she notices Lelantus sticking his hand into the fire... blinking for a moment to see what happens... then jumping up with a loud "Oh No!" pulling him back... well trying to as her physique is pretty weak in the muscle department, but at least trying to get a look into his eyes...
Lelantus continues staring into the fire entranced by its beauty.
<The Firbolg Jims to camera>
Korbiña waves a hand in front of Lelantus' eyes "Lelantus are you there? ... Sceilie? Would you sit on the other side of him? Just so he does not jump into thr fire unexpectedly..."
She fetches her healer's kit and waterskin to at least clean Lelantus burns and put some ointment on them so it will heal better.
Then proceeds to get the iron pot from Sceilie's backpack, set it on the fire, fill it with water and then begin to cook a soup from rations she gets from people's backpacks.
Lelantus feels bad for ruining korbina and sceilies moment so he goes to get wood for the fire
Korbiña sighs deeply sitting down at the iron pot she set up gor cooking and continues to make a thick soup for everyone... thinking that this might be the last full meal in a while as rations might need to be stretched in the coming days if the swamp continues like this...
As if in reassurance, a soft scaled hand wraps over Korbiña's hand. She feels another wrap around her stomach from behind, drawing her into a warm half-hug. The first hand slowly helps her scrape and stir her makeshift meal. The other keeps her close, so that a sweet voice overflowing in confidence can whisper in her ear, "As I hath said, let someone else worry for thee." The voice seems attached to a certain Dragonborn girl, who despite her bold inclination, appears to have turned quite the serruptitious shade of blushing red. It appears she's trying, for the tiefling's sake, to take account.