The Righteous Brothers, a bold anthem of a song about bravery and boldness and utter defeat... But triumph of spirit and the refusal of good men to accept defeat is writing itself in Mulligan's head even as he talks to the men.  It will be epic and sad, loud but melancholy, but it will inspire and harden the resolve of all who hear it.  ((A combination of Immigrant Song by Zeppeling and Waltzing Matilda by the Pogues with some Spanish Bombs by The Clash to keep it catchy...))  The song will tell the story through the eyes of Seargent Blackclaw who saw hell come to life yet did their part to hold the line, long after the line was broken.   Leading the retreat broke the woman's soul, but it didn't break her spirit.  Three days they marched and crawled and wandered along the Shoshenstar, the wet and the damp bogging them down when speed was needed most.  The very jungle against them, Blackclaw called a halt.  It was here they would take their final stand against death itself...  And it is here they have stood ever since. Camp Righteous may have fallen but it lives on in the hearts of all who hold this spot, all who wage the unwinninable battle against death itself.  "By Tyr and Bahamut, my work here isn't done...  By Tyr and Bahamut, OUR work here isn't done."

     The song isn't written in a night.  Or even a dozen nights.  But the tone and the feel of it...  Those are immediately imbedded in Mulligan's brain and the song won't be done until he captures them appropriately.  He prayed, after his fashion, that he would get it at least serviceable enough to play a rough draft before their work here was done... Before those who it was about...  moved on.  But even a rough drafter would take a bit and he wouldn't debut it until he was sure, totally sure, it was close to what he intended.

     In the meanwhile, he also took notes for stories and poems and even a naughty limerick or three, for these two were also writing themselves in his head as he heard the tales the soldiers shared.  This he was more free with sharing, looking to see if they inspired or amused or worked at all with those who inspired it.  These too were meant as works or art, for is not everything Mulligan does?  But no, these were thrilling tales, ribald poems, naughty turns of phrase...  Art but not masterpieces.

---

     It was with his head lost in these kinds of thought when Mulligan was startled back to the here and now by pink sparkles cascading down before his eyes.  "Wha the wha?" he said quietly to himself as he looked around, quickly spotting the purple butterfly.  

     "Shae..." he would answer himself.  He didn't know, but he knew.  Who else could it be?  Mulligan would finish jotting down the last thought or note he was working on and then stow his book and get to his feet.  "Lead on."

The pink butterfly would flutter, guiding the way back to the medical tent. Making it's return the illusion flits through the space to land in Shae's hair, dispersing on contact.  Through the opening of the doorway Mulligan would see Shae tending to the soldier he had spent some time with. She'd turn to see the bard had answered her call.

Shae would excuse herself from her patients side. She'd stand from her seat, "My apologies if I interrupted your work." dipping her head in apology as she'd approach Mulligan. "I was hoping you could assist me with a few things..." He could tell by her expression she was in deep thought. "I need..." Blue hues scan. "Your soothing voice... steady hands..." A glint catches her eyes and she looks down. "And your belt." She'd indicate it with a nod. "Please." She'd add, holding her hand out.

After a pause, Shae would start. "I have a theory." She'd continue with a basic summary. "Should I be able to draw out the necrosis and purge it from the tissue, perhaps then we may be able to regenerate the damaged cells." She'd share her thoughts. "However, I imagine that once the numb nerve endings are reawakened, the rush of pain could be severe." She'd gesture again his belt. "And hopefully, we won't send him into shock..." Once in hand, she'd fold it in two and tug each end taught to make it snap. "Something to chew on anyway..." She'd lead the way back into the tent for further briefing and preparation.

(Basic Idea Breakdown: Shae wants to try using lesser restoration to remove the necrosis. Have Mulligan on standby to keep her, the patient calm and still. She'd hope he could provide back up healing while she purges the necrosis. Shae would then transition to using her healing magic to stabilize the patient. The belt is for the patient to bite on for the pain and so they don't bite their tongue.)

(What's the timing here? Would Reng be finished with securing the outside of the fort in time to be able to assist with the restoration?)

Once the defences are set Berrus will climb a tower and look around

Quote from rkmobius >>

(What's the timing here? Would Reng be finished with securing the outside of the fort in time to be able to assist with the restoration?)

 ((I'm assuming a wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey kind of timeline where you could likely be wherever you want to be?))

     "My apologies if I interrupted your work." Shae says as she approaches Mulligan. "I was hoping you could assist me with a few things..."  Mulligan waves off the concern, happy to have been called to help.  "I need...Your soothing voice... steady hands..." A glint catches her eyes and she looks down. "And your belt." She'd indicate it with a nod. "Please."

     "Ummm...." Mulligan says, ideas running through his mind that really are utterly not appropriate, given the circumstances around them.  "Here?  Now??"  Luckily Shae explains her plan before Mulligan's brain is able to get him into too much trouble. "Oh, sure... Happy to help."

     Mulligan has no training in medicine per se but he does have some little skills in it and is able to catch on to what Shae needs without much explanation.  He is happy to soothe and distract the patient with stories, song or just conversation to keep their mind preoccupied with anything besides the pain.  "Remember,ber, you cry out and I will undoubtedly write a song mocking you and play if in all five corners of Chult!" Mulligan would warn with a grin and a wink while holding her hand to reassure he that he was there with her.     

Glasses:

Lost in the focus of his task, the Professor weaves elemental magic for hours, building the defenses deep and secure--possibly more than needed, but once committed to a task, Snively sees it through to completion.  Unless others have taken advantage of their help, the Professor puts the Kenku to work.  With the massive amount of earth moving needed, there is more than enough time and opportunity to demonstrate and teach them the Mold Earth.  First, they start by casting the spell they know -- Detect Magic -- to watch and learn the arcane threads necessary to cast the Mold Earth spell, then they try themselves.

Whiff flits in and out, commenting in primordial and common, excited that these creatures are trying to learn elemental magics--an area of his own specialty.  He attempts to Help the Professor with the eager Kenku.

Arcana checks for teaching Mold Earth:  

17

23

18

23

25

17

After a while Berrus comes down from the tower and beckons to the Professor

"I be wonderin if they may ha' any maps we ken borrow or copy. Do any o your magiks aid in copyin sumpthin?

Glasses:

Worn out from his marathon of spellcasting and teaching, the Professor thinks for a moment and says, "No, Berrus, I have no specific magics that allow me to copy maps or scrolls with little effort, though the study of magic itself sharpens the mind to aid in such tasks.  Still, perhaps a spell or magic item with such an effect would be quite useful..."

His mind on a new task, Snively almost forgets Berrus is there as he theorizes and researches, somehow rejuvenated after a long day by the promise of a new research topic.

((*cough*Kenku*cough*))

Seeing the professer going into his planning Berrus shrugs and goes to aid in unloading the ship

Singing softly to himself after he sees Mulligan follow the butterfly.

the minstral boy to the war ha gone

In tha ranks o death ye will fin him

His fathers sword he ha girded on

An his wild harp slung hind him

The two kenku take to the practical lessons with a lot of enthusiasm and although they falter at first, watching the Professor's example and imitating him with their uncanny knack for mimickry, they start to get more and more control of their magical focus. At first, Ginny manages to only lift a small rock and shift it, but Sonny joins in Ginny's jubilant exclamation at their success. Focussing on replicating their earlier success, and with encouraging hints from Whiff and the Professor, she is soon able to move the top layer as well. Excited, she then turns to Sonny and helps him improve his technique, until he is able to move smaller rocks as well. For the remainder of the afternoon, the two of them are engaged in an eager competition, seeing which one of them was able to move more earth quicker, with Ginny usually winning out just slightly ahead of Sonny.

----------------------------

Climbing one of the watchtowers, Berrus is able to get a good look around the camp, up to the tree line. The soldiers here had done a reasonable job at clearing the forest up to the range of their crossbows of trees, but the underbrush remained thick enough that a reasonably trained soldier could get within fifty yards of the berm at night. Still, the fact that they were repeatedly cutting the trees back indicated that they were at least aware of the danger... Trying to locate the Camp in your mind's eye, you try to think about likely avenues for any enemies. With the only entry and exit to the camp opening up to the river, the soldiers had clearly chosen to stay and fight, as even a moderate garrison like this would likely get stuck moving through the muck and down to the few boats moored at the shore. What does strike you though is that most of the watchtowers are built on the northern side of the camp, rather than the south. You might have to ask the commander or one of the veterans here, why that was.

After a short and not altogether helpful exchange with the professor, you head back to the shore to help with the last of the goods. There isn't much left to do, and it doesn't take long for Captain Thessalandra to notice that you're mainly keeping your hands busy. "Hey there, Berrus. What's on your mind? You have never been a very talkative person, but I feel like you've been even more withdrawn these last few days. You know that these people here respect you a great deal, right? If you want to talk about something, we're happy to listen."

----------------------------

Shae, the soldier looks at you and with a thick voice responds :"I'm...Thaum. From Baldur's Gate up north... first got here as a sellsword for the flaming fist, but ... they rather loot old ruins... than actually help beat back this undead plague. After a year... I got my severance pay and ... returned to 'zaru to enlist with the Order. I've came down ... here shortly after... we had set up this camp. Things were fine until... two weeks ago. I was out on patrol ranging south... trying to find out what... had started to muddy the waters. The second night... we had just started to bed down, when we were beset by a ghoul... We managed to drive it off, but ... it got me, claws tearing right through my leathers. The others abandoned the patrol... and brought me back here." A tinge of shame swung with his account, and between laboured breaths, you can tell how bitter he feels about having failed his scouting mission.

Just as Thaum finishes her account, Reng and Mulligan arrive at the tent. Both quickly grasp the general idea and you all rush into the tent. After breifly explaining to Thaum what you want to do, Shae starts the procedure to hopefully restore Thaum.

     Mulligan follows orders.  Blindly and unquestioningly, for a change.  This... miracle Shae was trying to pull off... it was so beyond his ken that he all but turned off his brain and worked on autopilot.  This was too important to be distracted by the proper wording for the Righteous Brothers epic he wanted to write, too delicate to allow his brain to wander off to the tune of some catchy song.  He did what he could to help and that's all he allowed himself to do.

Reng quietly says to Shae that if she can be of help she will do anything she can and if it would help more to give the suffering man some space, she can do that as well, and leave the tent.

To Thessalandra .. " Well cap'n tis not so much avoidin ere'one as tis tryin tah avoid thinkin.  I was set on what is seemin more a hopeless quest which i am realizin. Nae don get me wrong i like this group e'en tha new ones. But the search nags at me. So Ima tryin me best tah ferget it fer a while. An work seems tha best for tha now"

Thessalandra nods slowly: "I'm sorry you haven't been able to turn up anything concrete. But sometimes it can be for the best. Nothing's worse than finding exactly what you've been looking for and realising that it's not doing such a great job at answering your questions after all. I know you hinted at wanting to find your ancestral home. Mind telling me why you're out here by yourself looking for it? I don't want to dig up old wounds and if you'd rather keep busy I understand, but maybe sharing your quest with someone else might help?"

He motions Thessalandra over to the side of the ship.

"Ye see tha Trueanvil clan los their homeland generations ago to some unspoken calamity. After journeying fer many years the survivors settled in Citadel Abdar.  In me grandfathers time our chieftain decided to try to start looking fer our ancestral home. Thus the seekers were created.  After military training a group be selected to head out inta tha world ta try an find it.  This year i was one of those who be selected and was sent to this forsaken land"  he pauses looking out over the water. "We are only supposed to return or send message if we find it"

Thessalandra nods again: "How many others were sent out? And why did the elders think Chult more likely than other places?"

Looking thoughtful " i dunno meybe 10 or 12. An they don' think tis likely the search areas are chosen at random minas tha places they sent in tha last five years.  So ye can say i picked this fate as itwere"

Thessalandra stays silent for a while, before responding slowly and thoughtfully: "That's quite a burden you bear. Don't be afraid to let us in once in a while to help share the load. Do you know what you are looking for?"

A low laugh. " thankee.  But tah be honest i ha'ent a clue. Dwarves bein dwarves i imagine ifn we find it there will be a lot o this around" he points to the insignia on his axehead