Dragon of Icespire Peak ***CLOSED***

The old man whimpers as caustic smoke slowly creeps up from his bubbling flesh: "Please, do you have healing magic? A potion? Anything to end this horrible agony?" He grasps at Connak's pantlegs like a beggar pleading for coin. "...if not, then..." his voice trails off as he weeps momentarily, "...then...then...put me to the sword!"

The man releases the wood elf's clothing and lays prone on the ground at his feet, sobbing uncontrollably.

When Vaxis looks back to shout at his dark spirit, he finds only Arvi, Tabesha'l's familiar (now back in quasit form) laughing back at him with the EXACT same voice and mannerisms as the evil apparition that has plagued him since he opened the infernal puzzle box all those years ago...

Tabesha'l sends out a harsh telepathic command to her demonic familiar: " Creature, as much as it may seem appropriate to torment one of my trusted companions, I assure thee it is not. Desist this instant, I command thee !"

She keeps her thoughts and tone as stern as she can, but somewhere inside her, almost hidden into the folds of her subconscious mind, she feels a sense of glee as part of her enjoys the confusion on the dragonborn's features at the Quasit's trickery. Was Vaxis right about this ? Is she being corrupted by her proximity with the small abyssal fiend ? She sighs: these are probably mere rural superstitions, after all. She is a gifted wizard and as such perfectly capable to protect her spirit against all types of nefarious influences, is she not ? " No reason for concern, most assuredly... " the elven maiden reassures herself, but still a small shiver runs up her spine as she considers the cleric's warnings.

She shakes off the thought and turns her attention towards the screaming survivor. " Excuse me ? Sir ? Surely thou knowest that a bath into yon deep river waters shall go a long way in having thee rid of yon pestilent acidic substance affecting thy epidermis, do thee truly not know this ?" She feels frustrated that the man seems to pay no heed to her words. " Do none of these so-called 'civilized' races speak proper Common, by Erythiel ?" she thinks to herself, irritated before shouting out: " Oi, you, peasant ! Get in the water ! THE WATER, MAN ! WASH. IT. OFF !!!"

The man gapes at Tabesha'l's words as if he'd just been given the secret to the meaning of life itself. A second later, he scrambles back into the river and begins thrashing about in a furious attempt to rinse the remaining ankheg bile from the surface of his skin. His exuberant howls range from bouts of pain to sheer glee as the acidic fluid is washed away. Anyone standing near takes fire from his manic splashing.

"I can tend to your wounds once you are done washing," Tink would say call out to the man as she pulls out a vial filled with red liquid and inserts it into a slot on the bracer she wears on her left hand. When the man exits the water she would walk over next to him. Then extending her left hand the liquid in the vial would be ejected through a nozzle in the bracer in a fine reddish mist covering the man and partially healing his wounds.

Cast Cure Wounds 7 

Connak turns to look at Tabesha'l, "Never has your nobility bled through your act since joining this motley group as much as how you treat this man now.  The river will wash off what little remains of the acid, but it will not undo what is already melted.  Let Vaxis be and let him help this poor man...  Nevermind.  Seems this elf doesn't see others too far beneath her to offer more than token words."  

Connak scowls at Tabesha'l, daring her to provide excuses.

The man's flesh begins to knit itself back together, muscles reform where just moments earlier his bone lay bare to the elements. Even greying hairs sprouted from the newly regenerated skin covering his arms, shoulders and back...though Tink's magical potion did little to restore the man's disintegrated clothing. He clings to a scrap of tattered wool, the remnants of his tunic, now barely large enough to constitute a loin cloth.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you kind elf! I thought surely I was to suffer the same fate as the others...dragged into the terra, screaming and....m-melting..."

Arvi stalks closer to Vaxis, drinking in the cleric's horror like fine brandy. "You look as though you have seen a ghost," says the diminutive demon in its regular screeching, abyssal dialect. "In fact, you look as though you have seen many ghosts, over the past few years..."

The quasit circumnavigates the silver dragonborn, keeping well out of his reach and stops just behind Tabesha'l's legs, peeking out from behind them like a shy child.

"You keep strange company, lady elf..." the old man remarks at Tabesha'l upon seeing the quasit draw near to Tabesha'l. "...but nonetheless, thank you all for coming to my aid."

"Those horrible creatures just...appeared from out of the ground around mid-morning. The noise of our logging operations covered their initial attacks and by the time we knew what was happening, they had killed or eaten nearly everyone. I've worked this camp for years and never seen such a creature here...is it truly the will of the gods for my men to have perished in this way?" The man stifles another sob and tries to maintain his composure.

"Why have you all come here?" he says, looking around and suddenly noticing the unusually diverse assortment of humanoids in his company. "We don't usually receive visitors other than resupply and delivery services from Phandalin or Falcon's lodge...either that, or highwaymen looking to rob us of what little we have..."

Tabesha'l, who's understood nothing of what her familiar said to Vaxis, picks up the small demon almost affectionately as she answers the logger's comment: " If thou meant fair Thuniviel here," she points her chin towards Connak, " I for one never would entertain the thought he is strange, per-say... although he can be somewhat abrasive, of course. Yet, I daresay even one as bitter as he shall find his true, most tender inner side one day... oh, of this I have not the slightest doubt !" 

As she smiles innocently at the man, Arvi cackles with scornful mirth before turning into a bat, after which it perches on the wide brim of her wizard's hat and starts scratching itself furiously.

She then gestures towards the place they'd landed: " Thou sayeth thou art the one in charge of this place, and furthermore the only survivor ? Anhyarma Naynë ! Truly, the Ancient Powers have blessed thee with luck indeed ! As for us, we art neither robbers nor brigands. In fact, quite the opposite: the one named 'Falcon' sent us here with victuals and tools for your camp... hum, yes... maybe a little late, of course. I am truly sorry for what happened here, my good man. As to why such horrors would come upon thee..." she looks towards the others, " ... mayhaps tis something we should investigate. As soon as I take a bath and change into proper attire, of course !"

TO THE GROUP: "Ah, you are Falcon's delivery party? Although, I'm not sure what good the supplies will do me now...one man can't operate a logging camp all by himself. I'll need to travel to Phandalin to hire more help....damned bugs killed 12 good men!

"Did Falcon give you a requisition for me to sign? You'll need it to get your payment from my brother Harbin in Phandalin. He's a bit, umm...particular about such things and won't hesitate to refuse payment if the requisition is not perfectly in order. Tell you what, If you're willing to provide me with an escort to town, I can vouchsafe your services to my brother in person...he won't hassle me, that I can assure you!"

TO TABESHA'L: "As for your bath, milady, I'm afraid all you will find here is a muddy river. We've no dainty washtubs either, but one of the large feed buckets for the oxen holds about the same amount of liquid...if that suits your needs? You'll have to look around though - in all the chaos, who knows where anything is anymore. You are welcome to keep anything you find, I'm quite sure my workers won't be coming back to claim their belongings anytime soon.

About that time, a rustling of bushes can be heard near the bank on the other side of the river. A lone boar emerges from the underbrush and stands tall, shoulders squared and eyes locked on the party. It gives a few disapproving huffs as it seems to stare down the travelers on the other side of the river. 

Eyeing the boar Tink would comment, "I must say this place is just teeming with all sorts of fauna isn't it? First ankhegs and now a boar. Whatever will we encounter next."

She then turns to her new friends and says, "You are traveling to Phandalin are you? Would you mind if I come along with you? I would make the journey myself but travelling with others would definitely decrease my mortality rate while simultaneously increasing our chances of arriving at said destination."

Would these conversations be happening near Minsys?  Prior post he has set about harvesting materials from the bugs.

Vaxis looks quite irritated at the quasit's remark.

"It is only by the grace of Lady Tabesha'l that you still draw breath, or whatever it is equivalent for you foul fiends. I swear to Bahamut, Lord of the North Wind, I shall break your corrupted hold on her."

He goes to approach Tink.

"You would be a fine addition to our little caravan, Lord Tink. I am impressed with your..excuse me what's the human word..." He thinks for a moment. "Gadgets. Yes. Perhaps you could explain them while we continue our journey."

"Hmm, perhaps you know me by a different name, good dragon...Viathirix...the Cruel!" Says the diminutive demon before letting out a hissing, raspy cackle.

"We should be gone from this place before any more of those horrible things come back!" Exclaims the old man, trying his best to stiffen his spine amongst the brave adventurers. "Please, escort me to Phandalin and I'll see that my brother rewards you handsomely!"

While these conversations are taking place, Minsys happily busies himself by hacking through the remains of the ankhegs.

Connak speaks to the old man, offering, "Would you feel safe enough at Falcon's lodge, while we take care of one more task?  Then we could pick you up from there and return you to Phandalin."

" Oh what a wonderful idea, Thuniviel !"  Tabesha'l muses, " I positively reek and I'm afraid this dress is quite ruined. The lodge and its rustic appeal does beckon indeed, as even the most basic of creature comforts truly are underrated in this gloomy place..."

With a grin, Connak tells Tabesha'l with a deadpan tone, " Excuse me ? Ma'am ? Surely thou knowest that a bath into yon deep river waters shall go a long way in having thee rid of yon repulsive reek affecting thy clothing, do thee truly not know this ?"

Connak runs off to see if it's possible to recall the raft before Tabesha'l has a chance to retort.

"Oh my! I'm hardly a lord. I'm just your average hard working gnome and I would be more than happy to explain more about my various tools and gadgets. Honestly however many of them are just applied variations of the famous gnomish inventor Elmond Inigo Nicholas Salvadore Techius Edward Ibrox Noggin's theory of relativity. It sounds complicated but it really just shows how we can covert mass in to energy and vice versa. For example with my Xtrodinary Bottle Onward Weapon, the springs are enchanted to deliver many more times the propelling force than they normally would which I am also able to supplement using my own energy ," Tink would pause to take a deep breath and looks about to continue speaking.

"Falcon?! That lunatic from upriver? Are you mad?!" Says the old man incredulously. "Ha! You're joking! That crackpot's like a beacon for orc raiders! His place is sure to be attacked by the horde what for all his goading and bounties and professionally guided 'big game' hunts and such. 'Big Game'...oh, they're 'big' alright...big and green with pig-noses and...." the man cuts himself off when he notices Minsys looking up at him from his work.

An awkward beat later, the man continues: "Bah, I'd rather stay here and take my chances with these damn bugs! At least they will kill me fast, albeit painfully. The orcs would slow-roast my living carcass over an open spit! Truly, thank you for your valiant rescue today, but I would have to decline an offer to visit Falcon's 'Sitting Duck' Lodge, thank you very much."

With that, the man crosses his arms in a sign of refusal and then casually looks over at Tink: "Ahem, 'scuse me miss, but I dare say you look a bit tall and long of ear for a 'gnome...'"