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Last night, you and Rowe finalized your plans to embark upon the expedition to Khagh Moldir in the aftermath of your scuffle with the Master's vampire and his thralls.

Today? Today you spend some much needed time simply relaxing with your team at the beach. Sprawled out upon a towel, your lover lies beside you, nestled into the contours of your body. Both of you are garbed in attire appropriate for swimming, your lightly clothed bodies soaking in the heat of the perpetually powerful sun that shines down in the warm and nearly tropical climate of the island.

Ed and Quissonce sit beneath an umbrella not too far away from you, the both of them reading in silence, allowing the soothing sound of the incoming waves washing upon the shore create a nearly perfect atmosphere for their magical study.

Gabby performs the graceful, slow movements of her meditative routine at the water's edge. Du'kov is practicing his swimming farther out into the ocean, the Helm of Underwater Action resting upon his face as both a helpful instructor and emergency security blanket in case the boy bites off more than he can metaphorically chew.

Eve makes sculptures out of sand by herself while Gale seems to be trying his hardest to get Kyra to play some sort of game with him. It involves an artificially created rectangular arena split in two by a net the barbarian has placed in the ground. The sport seems to involving knocking a ball back and forth over the net until one of them fails to keep it in the air. Kyra looks rather skeptical of the whole thing.

Altogether, this is your whole crew for the expedition, save for Dolah, Vrimkis and Desden. The first two because neither of them are within Seaside at the moment. The latter because he's a killjoy and probably wouldn't have come even if you had invited him.

Regardless, for the moment this is how your crew chooses to fritter away their free time. It's a welcome change of pace.

You reflect slightly on the smattering of important events that occurred between last night and this moment you're currently enjoying. Your expensive Roscoli shotgun was fully repaired thanks to Ed's efforts, although the loaded pellets in their metal canister were unsalvageable. Quissonce was able to receive confirmation that the vampire you slew at least temporarily was indeed one of the three sailors aboard the Skipping Stone who were lost in the storm when you first came to the Island. And Blackburn rewarded the efforts of each and every one of you involved in the work you did preserving the city, leaving you all 5000 gold pieces richer.

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Eventually, you are drawn out of the daydream-like mood you have fallen prey to in your splendid repose by the sound of metal boots crunching gravelly sand. Looking over your shoulder, you watch as Dolah approaches, dressed not for the beach, but for combat. You smile and give her a wave which she returns, the expression of ease on her face indicative that she does not come bringing dire news. Most likely, she simply has just returned from her search with Ashe.

“Having fun?” she asks upon her approach, chuckling. Rowe shifts her face to listen to the familiar voice before answering the question.

“Hey Dolah. Just enjoying some after victory celebrations. Dealt with some undead, unholy vampire that summoned some devils and was working for the Master last night.”

The paladin sucks in a breath, scratching the back of her head, embarrassed. “Sorry I wasn't here for that. Sounds like something I could have really helped out with.”

Rowe shrugs. “We managed.” The half-elf reaches into her pack within arm's reach and draws out the headband that magnifies its wearer's charisma. She tosses the magical item to the half-orc.

“What's this?” Dolah asks, confused as she examines the glinting rubies.

“That amplifies the natural charisma of whoever wears it. The group figured you could use it best.”

“I'll ignore the backhanded implication of this gift,” Dolah says deadpan. “Thank you.”

“How was the outing with Ashe?” Rowe inquires, a subtle smirk gracing her expression as she does.

The holy warrior coughs once, before answering. “We ran into some obstacles that hampered our investigation immensely and were ultimately unsuccessful at locating Irontide or any of the rest of his compatriots. It was a failure, in that respect.”

(And I'm sure in that respect alone, Dolah.) your girlfriend thinks to herself mischievously.

>Pry further. What obstacles, exactly?
>Go swimming
>Go join Kyra and Gale's game
>Meditate with Gabby
>Make sand castles with Eve
>Spend more quality time with Rowe
>Chat with Ed and Quissonce
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1278918
>>Something else? (write-in)
couldn't we do all of those besides prying further?

if not, then
>Go join Kyra and Gale's game
>Meditate with Gabby
>Make sand castles with Eve
>Spend more quality time with Rowe

>>1278918
>Spend more quality time with Rowe
She seems like she could use the quality time

>>1278918
>Go swimming
We need to have our Daniel Craig moment, that and check up on our protege.

>>1278918
>Something else?
Go over things with Du'kov. We should discuss how he wants to best use his talents. Whether it's to become more adaptable, specialize and depend on others to fill in his weaknesses, or to plug his gaps with items.

>>1278918
Should we assume that Muffin, Pascala, and Sif are out and about as well?

Being a Familiar must be suffering.

>>1279249
i'm sure they'll enjoy playing with one another.

>>1279252
Pascala and Sif will.
Muffin is always like "Man, get me out of this bag!" "Oh goddamnit, are they having sex AGAIN?"

>>1279285
hm... fair point. Perhaps we should get muffin a companion?

>>1279287
I think he just wants to be let out of the familiar satchel more, and not be forgotten.

>>1279215
>Spend more quality time with Rowe

>>1278918
>>1279020
when we meditate with her,
I also kind of want to see if Gabby's still pissed from last time.

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“Alright well . . . you're welcome to join us for some fun at the beach before the expedition, Dolah,” you tell your friend. “We're doing that in a few days, by the way.”

She whistles sharply in amazement. “It appears Burn has sped up our time tables quite a bit. Unfortunately, I believe I'll have to make up for my absence during the fight by putting in some major effort to prepare the excursion while the rest of you are relaxing. It's the least I can do, considering.”

Rowe smiles. “Thanks Dolah. Really kind of you.”

The paladin gives you both a considerate nod. “Have a pleasant afternoon.”

Your half-orc companion turns around and strides off the sandy beach back the way she came, headed straight for Desden at the Church of Calloway to conscript him into her self-imposed budgeting duties.

With that concern alleviated – at least for today – from the back of Rowe's mind – and consequently, your own – you are able to focus purely on spending some time doing things that normal couples actually are supposed to do.

No demon fighting. No killing. No murderous exes or extra-planar beings attempting to kill you. Just watching the sun slowly drift lower in the sky, coloring the landscape a beautiful orange hue as Kyra and Gale juke and dive, knocking a ball back and forth, the thrill of competition turning up the intensity of the effort they invest in their distracting activity. Sunlight reflects off the calm ocean waters, sending a myriad of reds, yellows and oranges into your line of sight. A passing Cerilian patrol ship sails by in the distance.

The content warmth that infuses your forms is intensified by your close proximity, the hot feeling of your lover's silky smooth skin a delightfully pleasant sensation on the tips of your fingers.

Silence between you both, devoid of any distracting or simplistic conversation has been enjoyable so far. And the fact that no errant thoughts have popped out of Rowe's head means you're fairly confident she's feeling as calm as you. Perhaps she inadvertently mastered the ability to still her mind from you or Gabby. Who knows?

However, as much as you've enjoyed the serene quality to your existence this day, perhaps it's time to strike up a genuine conversation with your lover about something.

>Remain quiet and peaceful
>So . . . where did that 'Human God' thing come from last night
>What do you think about kids, Rowe?
>Hey, uh, how's Etriarch doing? Haven't heard about him in awhile.
>Say something else? (write-in)

>>1279790
>>So . . . where did that 'Human God' thing come from last night

>Say something else? (write-in)
consider messing with the others,
I'm thinking Kyra and Gabby while they're doing their things, and teaching Du'Kov to swim

>>1279790
>>So . . . where did that 'Human God' thing come from last night

>>1279790
>Remain quiet and peaceful

>>1279790
>>So . . . where did that 'Human God' thing come from last night

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“Hey Rowe,” you begin, giving voice to a concern that was wiggling its way into your conscience since your little spat at the warehouse.

(Yeah Alan?) she lazily thinks the question to you, gingerly running a hand up and down your arm as you converse.

“So . . . I don't know exactly how to say this,” you point out. “But last night you said . . . thought something that seemed very odd to me. Human god?”

Rowe looks up at you, eyes narrowed. (What was odd about it?)

“Well,” you chuckle apprehensively. “I mean, I've never heard the Great Will described that way before. It sounds weird.”

Rowe shrugs. (It's true, though. It's you humans who worship Him.)

You squint. “You're half-human, Rowe.”

(I know that, Alan. But . . . I mean, I've never really been keen on religion in general, but uh, it's a bit different when you're . . . acquainted with a goddess who you let hijack your body when you need to kill something dead.)

“So this came from Gaea's Warden then?” you qualify.

(Yeah, I guess. She would be the elven goddess. Sorta a shame that no one off the Island knows her name. Somehow my people just forgot that. Know her as the spirit inhabiting and protecting the natural world and that's it. Considering how long lived they used to be . . . it's concerning.)

“In what way?” you investigate, curious.

(Well, how come The Great Will is known across the planet and Gaea's Warden isn't?)

“I don't know,” you admit.

(Well, maybe it's because his followers are way more aggressive and have a tendency to shove their ideology down your throat. But if it works it works, I suppose.)

You cock an eyebrow. “That sounds like a condemnation to me.”

(There's some severe friction in regards to methodology between the two. I can see where Gaea's Warden is coming from.)

>You've known Her for less than a month, Rowe
>Is religion going to be an issue for us?
>Maybe Gaea's Warden failed because her methodology is flawed
>Ignore it and move on to something else (what?)
>Say something else? (write-in)

>>1280686
>>Say something else? (write-in)
Well, maybe she's just comfortable being low key about stuff unless she absolutely has to intervene.

I mean, it's not like gods need to be prayed to and believed to exist, right?

>>1280729
I vote for this write in

>>1280686
>Is religion going to be an issue for us?

>>1280729
ye, this

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“Well, maybe She's just comfortable being low key about her stuff unless She absolutely has to intervene.”

(Yeah. You're right, Alan. And I can appreciate that. But the issue is that while She remains quiet, all the rest of them continue 'talking' loudly and proudly. Instructing their adherents to spread the word and conquer the planet. Being respectful and reserved when others aren't just leads to Her falling into obscurity while people fall into lock step behind other gods.)

You frown. “I mean, it isn't like gods need to be prayed to and believed to exist, right?”

(Of course not. But they need to be believed to be heeded. It's not like Gaea's Warden can just come down and start protecting the wildlife or smiting people on her own. She needs followers or advocates or someone.)

“Well, it seems to me like all religious worship and respect for the gods was on the decline on the mainland anyway. Pretty sure it's been that way for a long time. Gaea's Warden probably got hit the hardest because of the way She operates.”

(Well . . . I don't think worship or respect is going to undergo any sort of resurgence without someone putting in the effort.)

“Is that someone going to be you?” you ask, unable to keep a slight hint of concern out of your voice. What would that entail?

(I don't know, Alan. Maybe I can dump most of the legwork and responsibility on The Mountain Rider tribe. They seem to worship her. And if we ever find any elves here on the Island they might still regard her with reverence. I can see to delegating whatever I possibly can with volunteers. But as it is . . . I'm sort of the high priestess or whatever.)

She groans out, raising her hands up to her face.

(I can't believe I just fucking said that. Thought that, rather.)

You chuckle. “So you've finally found religion.”

(It found me. And then kept muttering in my brain. Hopefully I'm just going crazy and the voice I keep hearing is simply the manifestation of my insanity. It would make this all a lot simpler.)

“So is spreading the faith why you tried to convince me to convert right before Burn reared his ugly head?”

(Part of it, yeah. That and it would make everything smoother. Of course, our relationship and smooth are officially opposites at this point.)

“We manage,” you chime in.

>Anything else you want to say? (what?)

AND

>Go swimming
>Go join Kyra and Gale's game
>Meditate with Gabby
>Make sand castles with Eve
>Chat with Ed and Quissonce
>Call it a day and move on
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1284587
>Go swimming, teach Du'kov

we'll get to the other stuff later

>>1284594
I feel like we neglect dukov at times, so yeah

>>1284587
>Go swimming with Du'kov, see if he's figured out novel applications of swimming with the Helm
Basically, see if he's figured that he can put weights/fully equip himself to walk on the sea floor, all Pirates of the Caribbean-like, to attack anchored ships or for amphibious assaults. Alan is all about preparation, adaptability, and thinking outside the box. While Du'kov can't keep up because he isn't ASSIMILATION, lateral thinking would still make him into a good commando.

Hey, guys,

Since the last thread, I've been wondering what we could say to Gabby in order to reconcile the previous incident.

Should we explain that Rowe is self conscious and felt ignored? I mean, I guess it was our own fault for giving it to Gabby straight away.

I mean, ultimately, I still want to see us have a polyamorous relationship with both women, but in the short term, I figure we should assuage any hard feelings and focus on helping them build a better relationship between one another before pushing for an equal three part relationship.

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“I'm going to go for a swim. Maybe give Du'kov some advanced pointers now that he's comfortable in the water,” you explain, lightly slapping Rowe's thigh before you stand up and roll your shoulders. “Do you want to join?”

She stretches, filling up the space you've left on your fluffy white towel to the best of her ability. (Eh, I'm feeling lethargic and lazy today. Maybe in a bit.)

You nod, leaving your girlfriend to soak up further sun rays, emphasizing the tan she already possesses. Making your way to the water's edge, you give Gabby a quick wave as you approach. You notice her come to a resting position in her routine – the one you recognize she assumes at the very end of the process. Sure enough, she snaps back into the confident and suggestive posture the monk usually possesses. She smiles at you, the quarrel and angered parting of last night seemingly forgotten in her expression.

“Hey Al,” she greets you. “What's up?” she asks in passing.

You suck on your lip for a moment, making the decision to avoid broaching the subject of last night for the moment. Especially since you want to avoid any further tension for today. “Going for a bit of a swim.”

The blonde-haired woman nods. “Alright. Watch out for sharks!”

You laugh. “Sure will, Gabby,” you reply good-naturedly.

“Nah,” she quickly responds back. “I'm being serious. I saw a shark fin not too long ago. Be careful and get ready to swing if it decides to take a bite out of you.”

Your eyes bulge as you realize she's being serious. You stammer momentarily. “D-du'kov's in the water!”

“Oh,” she says, frowning. Then, after a moment, the tall powerhouse shrugs. “Eh I'm sure he's fine.”

You shake your head and dash into the surf, kicking up foam and bits of sand before leaping into the cool waters of the ocean.

As you submerge yourself, you open your eyes wide and peer into the inky, blueish depths looking around frantically for your squire or perhaps any large, dark shapes that might be one the sea's most vicious hunters and killers.

Swimming further out into the salt chuck – and deeper as well – you peer around the reeds, rocks and fish fleeing from your invading form, desperately searching for Du'kov.

>Roll me 1d100 + 35, best of 3. This is a perception check

Rolled 100 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>1286009

Rolled 21 (1d100)

>>1286009
>>1286045
double 100s?

Rolled 26 + 35 (1d100 + 35)

>>1286009

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You curse the fact that it's so difficult to see beneath the waves of the ocean, where the rays of the sun are much more diminished and the water before your eyes distorts your vision. However, as quickly as the obstacle annoys you at how it obfuscates the target you're so desperately trying to ensure is safe, you instantly feel some subtle shift deep within you.

It is a familiar feeling – tied to those moments you choose to learn or assimilate. Yet something about it feels weaker than before. Less intense or effective than usual, considering how rapidly your ability has been ramping up in power these past, recent weeks. The connection feels more distant and tenuous – like it was in its burgeoning infancy when you first arrived at Seaside many months ago.

Still, even in its weakened manifestation, your power proves a mighty boon in this instance. Much like they were under the effects of the lenses the Helm of Underwater Action possesses, your eyesight adjusts naturally to the poor conditions imposed by the nature of your surroundings. Soon, everything before you is as clear as if you were standing in the middle of a flat field. The change in perspective provides a gorgeous view, allowing you to take in the beauty of the ocean's depths in a way you've never been able to truly see in your lifetime up to this point.

And the improved vision makes you so much more confident in your movements in the water. While your other senses have been honed to such a perfect degree that you can still move and fight skillfully with your eyes closed on land, under water you still sorely need to see to be truly confident and competent in your actions. Something about the unfamiliar element just puts you off, despite the dexterous mastery you employ nearly anywhere else.

With that issue of vision mitigated, you're able to activate your Arcane Sight and effortlessly follow the trail of bright orange magic the Helm of Underwater Action weaved through the water atop Du'kov's skull.

It may be thin and faint, but its quite distinct compared to the aquatic wildlife that surrounds you.

The trail leads directly to . . . your squire.

Yes, there's your squire! Farther out and deeper than the distance you've managed to traverse in the half minute of swimming you spent getting to where you currently float. He treads water right above the bottom of the ocean floor, staying as perfectly still as he can manage considering the ocean currents.

Yep, he appears content to stay there . . . unmoving . . . at trident point!

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Gabby wasn't mistaken when she said she saw a shark! About three of them by your count, as well as four or five dolphins, all of which seem to be accompanying the numerous fishtailed humanoids holding Du'kov hostage like pets. They're some distance down and away from you, so it's hard – even with your keen senses – to make out the specifics of how these creatures look. But thankfully, you don't need to focus on the ones by your tribal companion. Instead, you can closely inspect the five of them that break off from the main group and are currently swimming up towards you at an alarmingly rapid pace. This small squad is even accompanied by a great white shark!

If you were only taking a gander at their upper halves, you'd think they were humans. Maybe half-elves, considering the delicate, slender and graceful features you notice in their determined, unpleasant faces. But looking at the bottom half . . . well . . . they're fucking mermaids! That's all there is to to really say about it.

And boy do they not look welcoming, armed and armored as they are with spears, tridents and glittering scale mail.

The lead one, green-haired and female, yells something at you. You are so puzzled at how she manages to speak so fluently and eloquently underwater that you almost fail to recognize it as an actual word in an actual language that you actually understand.

But it is! That was elven, although it sounded odd, warbling its way to your ears.

You think it was the word for “halt”, maybe?

She makes a fair argument. But, you're running low on oxygen as it is, so she really couldn't blame you for taking a moment to refill your lungs with air, right?

>Surface for air, contact Rowe mentally for back up
>Halt
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1287281
>Halt
Something else: can prestidigitation give us a couple more breaths of oxygen?

>>1287287
if not spells to give us air, we should resurface and make gestures that we're running out of air.

>>1287281
>if not spells to give us air, we should resurface and make gestures that we're running out of air.

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You gesture to your throat as they approach and shake your head rapidly in an attempt to indicate that you're quickly running out of oxygen and unable to breath. Before they reach you, you swim upwards, breaching the surface and gasping for air, filling your lungs up to their full capacity. For a moment, you ponder whether you should mentally shout a distress signal out to Rowe. But before you can really make a decision, you feel a hand wrap itself around your ankle and drag you back beneath the waves. The sudden yank startles you, but you manage to keep your mouth shut so as to maximize how long you're able to hold your breath for this next encounter. Hopefully it is a short one and these foreign sea people don't inadvertently drown you.

A sharp trident is quickly jabbed into your neck. Not with enough force to break the skin, but forcefully enough to make you keenly aware of the situation.

“I said halt!” the green-haired fish woman shouts at you in Elven. You notice now that it wasn't a hand gripping you by the ankle, as both of hers are preoccupied with holding her weapon and gesturing at you menacingly. What seems to be wrapped around your foot and dragging you further into the depths is the flipper of her tail.

The great white shark that followed along with this group circles below you, making for an intimidating sight and another thinly-veiled threat if you try to do something your captors might deem inappropriate.

“Can he even understand what you're saying?” another of the five surrounding you asks, sounding much less hostile and aggressive.

“The mandragora speaks the tongue,” she quickly snaps at the underling who questioned her. At least that's what your guess is, if your initial surmising of their social structure from the scant few of their interactions you've witnessed so far is accurate.

“And look at it,” another voice chimes in, male. “It looks like kin.”

“That's no dryad,” opines a fourth. “Too blocky and massive. The legs are unwieldy and awkward.”

“No, examine it closely. It must be part dryad, like the mandragora claimed. You can tell by the eyes.”

“Oh yeah. Those eyes!”

“Well there you have it! Its kin of a sort . . . maybe?”

“Can you understand what I'm saying?” the algae-haired mermaid interrogates, leaning in towards you as her scale armor shimmers, catching the remnants of dying sun rays. You nod your head in the water, giving her a thumbs up. Hopefully they understand one of those two gestures.

“Why won't you respond?” she follows up.

“He can't breathe, Aza!” another shouts. “Give him the pearl already.”

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This fish woman grappling you – Aza, apparently – sighs out, bubbles jetting out of the sides of her mouth and also from what appear to be slits in her neck, reminiscent of gills. She reaches down into a conch shell tied at her waist like a makeshift pouch and pulls from it a shiny, lustrous pearl that you would believe a priceless artifact even if it didn't radiate a bright, white, magical aura.

She shoves the item into one of your unfettered hands, before guiding your digit to clutch the object firmly in the palm of your hand.

Instantaneously, you can breathe again. As if you were back on the beach and not submerged in the ocean. You also feel much more able and free, like you could much more easily traverse the waters. This item seems very similar in function to the Helm of Underwater Action.

As if in response to your newly acquired familiarity with the environment, Aza adjusts her tail so it is now wrapped tightly around both of your legs, squeezing them together to keep you entirely immobile.

“What have you done to the Island?” she demands.

>Nothing!
>We moved here
>Listen lady, I'm not sure how your mating rituals work but I'm sorta taken already so if you could ease off the legs
>We haven't done much . . . but these OTHER people, well . . .
>How has it changed?
>Mandragora?
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1289118
>We moved here
>Something else?: Nothing I'm aware of, what changes are you talking about?
>Something else?: And I'm no negotiator, but telling a person who's running out of breath to halt, dragging them down when they're just getting their breath, and then asking why they won't talk when under water? You've got dolphins with you, so you should know better. Thanks for telling her the obvious, by the way, guy. You're alright.

>>1289130
Talking about the Imperials when it very well could have been our fault (because of Irontide, Fezzek, that whole fucking squadron of trade ships we sunk right off the coast, who knows what kinds of magical waste we might have been releasing into the sea), is kind of stupid.

>>1289118
>We moved here
>How has it changed?
>Mandragora?

>>1289166
>>1289155
I think I'll second both of these, there are obviously some diplomatic issues that need to be cleared up it they are unaware of what's happened to the island.

>>1289118
>>We moved here
>>Something else?: Nothing I'm aware of, what changes are you talking about?
>>Something else?: And I'm no negotiator, but telling a person who's running out of breath to halt, dragging them down when they're just getting their breath, and then asking why they won't talk when under water? You've got dolphins with you, so you should know better. Thanks for telling her the obvious, by the way, guy. You're alright.

>>1289155
>>1289405
Could we go for snark rather than plain insulting? I don't think that came across in the text too well.
And an honest "Thanks" to the guy who told Aza that we're obviously drowning and can't breathe water.

For fuck's sake, they've got dolphins with them, and they need to go up for air. Things that swim needing to go up to breathe air should not be some weird activity they can't understand.

>>1289416
>Could we go for snark rather than plain insulting? I don't think that came across in the text too well.
yeah, try not to get on their bad side.

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You bristle slightly. “You know,” you respond in Elvish, eliciting a few gasps from the others. “And I'm no negotiator, so maybe I'm getting something wrong. But telling someone who can't breathe and needs to go up for air to halt, and then asking why he won't speak underwater seems like a pretty dumb idea. I mean you have dolphins, right? You understand the concept.”

You turn towards the fishman who pointed out you couldn't breathe. “Thanks for telling her the obvious, by the way. You're alright.”

He snickers while you feel the fishtail constricting your legs tighten just enough to really begin hurting. “I was waiting,” the aggressive mermaid seethes, “to see if you would produce a device similar to the one the mandragora possesses.”

You are smart enough to pick up context clues, but figure it best not to just assume. “Mandragora? Do you mean the orc?”

“If that's what you wish to call it,” she replies.

“Well I don't have one. So you were going to let me drown on a false assumption.”

“You overestimate how little I care," she snaps at you, bitingly. "Now answer the question, before I feed you to Orara. What have you done to the Island?!”

“We moved here!” you blurt out. “And then set up a settlement. That's about it. There's nothing else I'm aware of. What changes are you talking about?”

“For the first time in millennia we have been able to swim out from beneath the Island, out into the ocean at large. Not very far. But far enough to scout the surroundings and find you strangers and your seafaring vessels, dozens of which litter the ocean floor. Forgotten wrecks, lost and abandoned in a desperate struggle to achieve some goal. What have you done?”

“We don't know!” you answer honestly. “We have no idea why this place's influence began spreading outwards into the world again. We're trying to figure it out. I don't think we're necessarily the cause of it.”

“You claim this is all coincidence?” she asks, voice bordering on doubt.

“Not necessarily. We discovered the place recently. Only a few years ago. We came because we were curious. But maybe the process of whatever is causing the borders to expand began before our arrival. That might be what brought my people here. I have to ask, though. Is there a reason that's bad?”

She shakes her head. “No. It's miraculous.”

“Then . . . why are you so hostile?”

“Caution,” comes the one-word reply as you slowly feel the slimy fishtail release your legs from its death grip. “Give me back the pearl, take your mandragora, return to land and, for your own good, forget you ever saw us.”

>Give back the pearl
>Wait, maybe we could work out a trade deal of some sort
>I have to warn you about this other group of strangers before you go
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1289876
>>I have to warn you about this other group of strangers before you go
>>Wait, maybe we could work out a trade deal of some sort

Would assimilating water breathing mean we get ugly gills?

>>1289916
>ugly

>>1289916
seconding

>>1289876
>I have to warn you about this other group of strangers before you go
>Something else: Yeah, uh, you sure not making yourselves known to my government is in your best interest? Seriously, eventually you'll get found out and you likely won't have control over it.
I mean, people have Scry and other remote-viewing spells, let alone increased shipping meaning we see glimpses of them eventually.
>Give back the pearl

>>1289916
yeah

>>1289876
>Something else? (write-in)
"Your caution is well justified. There are quite a few more factions on the island here than just your people and mine. Generations of various tribes that have been living on the land of the island, and at least one other group from outside who mean to war. It needn't be now, but come to the beach some time and let us trade. At the very least, we can grant our new neighbors some idea of what's going on now. For your own good."

>>1291707
Isn't assuming that they don't know about the factions on the island, which is their home and that they've been here for millennia, and even have euphemisms for the plant-based orcs, a very insulting thing to do? This is their home, they've been here for thousands of years, is it a good idea to treat them as if they don't know the neighbors they've been living alongside for the past several hundred years?

>>1292108
I don't feel this would be insulting. We know they know about dryads but they seem to have stayed away from the land for a while.
And mandragora (it's a name for mandrake) has a meaning like "human plant" or something similar, very fitting for orcs.

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You blink rapidly, confused at how fast this interaction has seemed to progress towards a natural, if abrupt conclusion.

“Wait,” you say, as Aza sticks out an expectant hand for you to drop the pearl you're currently clutching into. “Maybe we could work out some sort of trade deal between our societies.”

She shakes her head, her algae-colored hair trailing in the water from the movement in a slow, hypnotic dance. “There is nothing your people have which mine require. This will be the last we see of each other. I guarantee this.”

She flexes the fingers of her humanoid hand, gesturing for you to relinquish the object. You inwardly sigh, realizing the nature of your parting is going to be non-negotiable. “Well then,” you say, shifting focus to a warning. At least you can accomplish that from this encounter, if nothing else. “Before you go. I should warn you of this other group of strangers. They have settled themselves on the coast as well, on another part of the Island. You should know that these people are extremely dangerous and will exploit everything about you if you give them a chance. If you meet anyone claiming to represent the Kardas Empire you should not trust them.”

She nods in recognition of your words. Somehow, you think sowing distrust between these fish folk and other people won't be that hard to do, considering your experience with them so far. “Likewise,” the mermaid replies. “Beware the Adaro.”

“Adaro?” you ask, cocking your head.

“Malevolent denizens of the ocean's depths,” she qualifies in detail. “If we are free once more then so are they. Beware the sea and remain alert upon your boats.”

“Will do,” you respond, flashing a smirk. “What a useful trade of information that was. Both our peoples will likely benefit from this exchange. If only we had a way to do so again.”

She reacts to your banter with simply an irked expression and further flexing of her fingers. You relent from prolonging this any further, dropping the pearl into her palm. Immediately you feel the inability to breath reassert itself over your biology.

You watch as the gang of fish people swim away, back to the main group. As they and their pet shark retreat, they pass by Du'kov, approaching you with the preternatural speed granted by the magical helm he wears. He sports a goofy grin on his face which you choose to interpret as evidence he was relatively unharmed and unphased by his momentary experience as a hostage to a foreign force. Together, the two of you swim back to shore, arriving just in time to see the frivolity coming to a close as the dying sunlight indicates night will soon be upon you. Everyone is packing up their beach gear, save for Gabby who brought none with her.

Upon seeing the two of you, the monk smiles broadly. “See Al? Told you the kid would be fine.”

>What do you do for the next two days before the expedition? (write-in)

>>1292817
Get more shotgun shells.
Level some monk.
Go shopping for better weapons and armor.
Get string or a scarf to tie our Buffering Cap to our head.
More wizard/sorcerer training.
Finish the Acidspit Clutch side quest.

>>1292817
Since we're going to a Dwarven stronghold without an engineer or dwarf, maybe we should ASSIMILATE some engineering and masonry knowledge.

>>1292817
Inform Blackburn about merfolk that don't want to have contact and about dangerous Adaro.

>>1292817
>>1292828
train with gabby in more monk stuff, get ammo, talk with acidspit clutch. Find a way to keep buffer cap on our head.
>>1292916
who do we know who works in that sort of stuff?
>>1292854
why not that Adaro, though? Seems like a useful bit of information, that you stay away from these folks. maybe she's referring to the Master and his ilk.

Roll me 1d100 + 77, best of 3.

Also, is there something specific you want to try to learn regarding being a monk?

Rolled 56 + 77 (1d100 + 77)

>>1293631

Rolled 98 + 77 (1d100 + 77)

>>1293631
Purity of Body. Become immune to all diseases, magical or otherwise.

>>1293656
Oh man, maybe I should have asked for Wholeness of Body instead.

>>1293631
>>1293665
well, my first instinct would be to acquire something about drunken boxing and suggest Gabby practice it with us when we get smashed. Another thing I was wondering, since I've now browsed some stuff about pathfinder monks, is if we can get Mystic Visions.

Rolled 91 (1d100)

>>1293631
Wholeness of Body

Rolled 54 + 77 (1d100 + 77)

>>1293631

>>1293667
>>1293631
Shit, forgot the +77

>>1293674
it's fine, we nabbed it anyway.

>>1293631
trick, with a roll this high>>1293656
could we get both wholeness of body and drunken fighting?

>>1293680
Purity of Body might be better, honestly, since this island has lots of exotic diseases. Wholeness of Body heals a number of HP equal to monk level per 2 ki points, so for someone like us it may not be the better option.

>>1293667
Can you explain your choice of Wholeness of Body?

>>1293706
ostensibly, it will allow us to heal ourselves for a certain amount of HP without the use of a holy symbol.

>>1293709
Yeah, but complete immunity to disease seems like a better choice, what with the Master seeming to like undead diseases like Mummy Rot and vampirism.

>>1293715
True, I'll toss my lot in with the Immunity, though I think it's called Diamond Body.

>>1293720
No, Diamond Body is immunity to toxins of all kinds.

>>1293736
would alcohols count?

>>1293757
They technically would, unless you become a Drunken Boxer. A very unpleasant discovery for Gabby, to be sure.

>>1293763
We should probably mention this to her before she manages to contract that ability.

On the other hand, perhaps a more sober Gabby might lead to positive changes?

>>1293763
wait, why would being a drunken boxer make alcohol any less toxic?

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You choose to purchase more ammo for your shotgun. Enough to genuinely stock up for this expedition, since you'll be far from any pocket of civilization you're aware of that sells ammunition for firearms. Your efficient quiver, you realize, can store roughly three shotgun shells for every one arrow. With fifty arrows already conveniently stored in the extra dimensional holding space, you can fit a maximum of thirty rounds in. The two bandoliers you possess, which you sometimes wear crisscrossed about your torso, have slots for another sixteen small objects. Deciding to make use of them, you fill both bandoliers entirely with pellet-filled metal cartridges.

Altogether, you purchase another twenty seven rounds of ammunition for your gun. All in all, it costs you over four hundred gold pieces. Wew! When Zenlan claimed this was going to expensive to maintain he wasn't kidding.

. . .

You find a tailor who deals with the stitching of magical threads. You inquire as to whether he can make an addition to your buffering cap in the form of leather strings that you can tie together beneath your chin which will keep the floppy, formless thing stuck to your head. The gnomish outfitter promises you he can do it by the time you leave, but the cost to ensure the magic stays intact in the garment will require expensive materials. That, combined with the cost of the man's labor costs you a little over a hundred gold pieces.

. . .

Inquiring into the Acidspit Clutch situation, you discover that Blackburn has been sending out other, newer agents to the swamp to aid the lizardfolk in spreading their influence in the area. While some of the nearby rivals have been dealt with and assimilated into your ally's forces, the current troubles stem from some resistance to Chieftan Ssazz's rule by a coven of hags that seem keen on causing trouble. Hags, apparently, are ugly humanoid creatures that lurk deep in the swamp and possess a propensity for witchcraft and magic.

. . .
The rest of your time you spend honing your skills and martial arts by spending extra time training with Gabby, hoping to leach a bit more off of her.

The blonde monk herself is eager for the sparring partner, claiming she's been feeling much more powerful since dealing with the vampires.

Not only do you successfully improve your hand to hand skills, but you also feel a biological shift ooze naturally throughout your form. While not precisely rooted specifically in assimilating powers directly from Gabby, you do feel they are an extension of the powers you've already taken from her. A flourishing of the power set. Something you honestly should have mastered already if you had come to attain them via legitimate means.

With some hands on advice from Gabby, you learn how to directly manifest these general changes. She speaks of focusing on the body and its connection to the mind. Of drawing upon your inner sense of self to protect oneself from harm within and without. Of how to focus oneself to hasten the natural healing processes of your body.

The two of you jive so naturally that the progress you make in only two days is miraculous.

On the night before you are to embark upon your expedition, right after you both finish meditating within the small grove maintained within Seaside, you realize you have a chance to broach any subject you wish in private without interference.

>Say nothing
>Say something (write-in)

>>1294132
well, apologize for what happened during the end of the vampire incident.

I mean, if we're trying to explain why things went wrong there, should we mention that Rowe felt ignored and self conscious, especially when she's our girlfriend?

It was our own fault for not considering that.
Also, if we haven't told blackburn about the mermaids yet, maybe we should.

>>1294132
>>1294242
at the very least apologize for the incident.

I'm honestly not sure how to communicate everything else.

>>1294242
>>1294267
I'd agree, but I'm scared of creating a gap between us and Rowe at this point.

This is a vote for this option tho

>>1294326
well, first go for the apology, then see what she says.

If she wishes to know more, we can inform her truthfully that we did not take into consideration Rowe's feelings and focusing on Gabby, especially in public, she felt left out and ignored.

does that seem acceptable?

I think, in future missions, we should consider having Rowe and Gabby paired with one another to get a closer bond.

>>1294132
>Say something
Apologize for creating a situation where Rowe would get angry at Gabby.
Getting into the why's won't help considering Gabby's personality, I think. What we need to do is find common interests between Gabby and Rowe so that they can be friends than just professional acquaintances.

Speaking of Rowe, we should work with her more to get more Ranger levels and to reassure her that we want to spend time with her.

>>1294952
agreed, we could use another level or two in ranger as well.

File: Desden Grimwold.jpg (59 KB, 480x631)

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“Hey Gabby,” you speak up as you walk back to your separate lodgings.

“Yeah, Al?” she asks.

“I'm sorry about everything that happened that night after the vampire incident.”

Gaby furrows her brow and frowns in confusion for a moment before she realizes what you're talking about. “Oh yeah. Don't worry about it, Al. That shit was like three days ago.”

“You're not mad still?”

She shrugs. “Eh. It was annoying at the time because I'm out of the fucking loop and your little mental conversations feel a lot like talking behind somebody's back. But, uh, I've dealt with a lot worse.”

“Alright, well, I'll try to make sure we don't do stuff like that anymore if we can help it.”

“No problem. I just don't handle passive aggressive bullshit well. Prefer things out in the open. Not precisely the biggest fan of smacking your wife around, but maybe it would be good for you and Rowe to beat the shit out of each other for once.” She chortles.

You just shake your head.

. . .

The day of your departure arrives and you all gather in the courtyard right beneath Seaside's gates. Betsy, Hildebrandt, Blackburn and a smattering of others are there to see you off. They wish you well, but you can't help notice a slight tension in their forms. There is concern of what might happen in your absence and as to whether you will choose to return at all. With Irontide's crew having seemingly abandoned Seaside to its fate after their greedy decision, there is a slight murmur of doubt that perhaps the rest of you are doing something much similar. Escaping the dragon's wrath, perhaps. Trust in you, however, is high enough that the people do not panic and their respect for your deeds is such that they do not dare bring up their apprehensions to your faces.

All of you are there this early morning, save for Vrimkis, who you've promised to meet outside today as has been agreed upon in advance to spare most of the public from unnecessary and potentially distressing details. Eleven people, ten horses, one pony, one wolf, one dog, one owl, one squirrel and enough provisions to keep you all fed, watered and properly housed for two weeks trekking across the island – and who knows how long delving this ancient Dwarven ruin – are congregated in one nearly chaotic mess that your lover Rowe somehow is keeping track of. She goes down a list with a quill, making sure the final touches are properly in place.

Somehow, despite all the obstacles and intricacies of this operation, its all coming together splendidly.

So, of course, Desden has to have some issue with the way its being handled.

While you're combing through Tornado's mane with your dandy brush, seconds away from going on to ensure his horseshoes of speed are properly fitted to his feet, the inquisitor who is supposedly Dolah's subordinate approaches the half-elf ranger.

“Excuse me,” he calls out to her, loud enough for you to overhear. “Why do we only have one tent?”

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She tries to ignore him while giving him a pithy answer, focused on her task that ensures you're all moving forward on schedule. “To save space. It's a pavilion. It can house ten people comfortably.”

“There are eleven of us,” he notes.

“Twelve, actually,” she corrects, kneeling to inspect a pack strapped to the side of Gale's horse. “And we'll be keeping up a watch of two people at all times so there will be enough space for us to sleep in shifts. I have the logistics figured out Desden, I promise.”

He scoffs, taken aback by some glaring oversight on her part. “You have men and women sleeping together in the same tent.”

That gets her to stop in her tracks. She pauses for a moment, before lowering the parchment she's holding to her side and turning around to face him. She cocks an eyebrow. “What?”

“You have men and women sleeping together in the same tent,” the white-haired zealot repeats.

“ . . . And?”

“And it's improper,” he lectures. “That many men and women together in the same sleeping quarters.”

“ . . . You're kidding me,” she leans back, chuckling and shaking her head.

“Do we really not have the space for two tents of five or six? The split is relatively even,” he reminds her.

“I mean . . . you can go off into the woods with the decanter to bathe privately as our group has been doing so far when we head out. This isn't a real issue, Desden!”

“When the doctrines of the Great Will speak of –”

“Dolah and Alan aren't complaining,” she reminds him.

“This invites licentious behavior,” he practically quotes, ignoring the previous statement.

“Before we were together, somehow Alan and I managed to share a tent and nothing risque happened.”

He gives her a very piercing, skeptical look. Initially, she appears confident. But after a few long moments under Grimwold's scrutinizing gaze she begins to look unsure, gulping.

“Really!” she insists, defensively. “Nothing happened!”

“Nothing happened . . . until you engaged in sexual intercourse out of wedlock. This is supposed to be your example of pure behavior?”

She throws her arms up in exasperation. “You caught me, Desden! I've organized the orgy to happen on day 5.”

“Despite your sarcastic tone,” he sails on past. “Considering your bedroom proclivities, that statement isn't precisely far fetched.”

As you watch Rowe's expression transition from annoyance to what is about to be furious anger – most likely ending in a black eye for the crossbowman – Gabby suddenly intervenes, clearly having overheard the conversation.

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The monk leaps forward, surprising your girlfriend as Gabby wraps her thick arms around Rowe's waist from behind, squeezing the smaller woman into her form. Gabby's hands simultaneously reach up and clamp down firmly upon Rowe's breasts, fondling them through her leather armor, drawing a surprised gasp from your lover.

The blue-eyed woman then practically glues her lips to the brunette's ear as she adopts a sultry whisper that is still loud enough for you to hear from where you're standing.

“Don't you think Desden has a point, Rowe? Maybe us girls need a tent all to ourselves . . . to make sure nothing naughty happens,” she suggests.

“NotrightnowGabby,” Rowe squeaks, face flushing as she is molested.

Desden, to his credit, maintains a level of composure that speaks highly of his skill as a hardened stone of a person. The only subtle shift in his body language is an unamused quirk at the corners of his lips as he locks eyes with Gabby for a long moment.

The stare down doesn't last that long. Desden capitulates, rolling his eyes and turning around. He walks back to his horse as Rowe manages to shrug off a cackling Gabby.

“Blegh!” Quissonce loudly utters a noise of disgust, noticing the display. She catches sight of her boyfriend out of the corner of her eyes and her mouth falls open. “Ed!” she emphasizes the one syllable name.

Your roommate snaps out of his slack-jawed stare, sputtering as he nearly drops his spell book. “Disgusting, gross, I can't conceive of such a brazen act I would never do something like that in public.”

The elven wizard shakes her head. “Men,” she mutters, distastefully. Quissonce looks over to her gnomish friend for solidarity. The elf groans at what she sees. “Eve!” she chastises.

Eve blinks rapidly, snapping out of her spellbound stupor and focuses on the silver-haired woman. “Yeah, of course, men are disgusting who needs them yeah!”

Quissonce shakes her head and storms off for the moment.

“Calling dibs on the rat for the orgy,” you suddenly hear Kyra call out nonchalantly, but loud enough for you all to hear.

Du'kov leans over from where he is attaching gear to his Island-born horse to ask Gale a question. “Forgive me, but what is an orgy? I have not heard that word in this tongue before.”

The barbarian sighs out. “Regret, Du'kov. It means regret.”

>How do you spend your free time for the next week traveling across the Island? (write-in)

>>1295174
>>How do you spend your free time for the next week traveling across the Island? (write-in)
First off, explain to Du'kov what an orgy is. I feel having him misinformed about this subject may lead to trouble later.

>>1295174
>>1295185
this, for chuckles, and also mention that we were mostly joking about it and how it's generally not something that happens.

As for what else to do, have a chat with Kyra, Dolah to see how they're doing, and also chat up Vrimkis to get better details on the dungeon.

>>1295174
First, explain to Du'kov what an orgy really is, and the necessary cultural context of sarcasm, the Great Will's more extreme tenets, Republic morals on how men and women should interact, and how the undead are better company than Desden.

Then spend some time with Rowe, Did, and Pascala (and Muffin and Tornado) to get our teamwork together, improve Ranger levels, and just let Rowe feel that she's appreciated and she has nothing to fear of Alan leaving her (at least unless he's magically charmed, which she needs to come e to grips is just an occupational hazard).

Finding common points of interest with Rowe and Gabby would be good. But there are definitely some personality conflicts that just won't go away.

>>1295221
well, hopefully we can work on commonality and they can come to accept their differences in personality.

Additionally, for rangers, we could select something about favored enemies or favored terrains. Suggestions?

also, there's woodland stride, which " a ranger may move through any sort of undergrowth (such as natural thorns, briars, overgrown areas, and similar terrain) at his normal speed and without taking damage or suffering any other impairment."

>>1295238
Hey, trick, is an urban/dungeon environment count as a terrain?

>>1295258
yeah i guess

>>1295267
I'd pick that as a favored terrain, but since we'll likely be dungeon delving and fighting about in the city as well.

>>1295217
seconding

>>1295217
Another idea, we could also try to get a few levels off of Eve and practice our draconic heritage, see how she's doing. I want to check up and make sure she's doing ok ever since she got talked down to by Burn. See if she has any suggestions for a counter.


In the future, I think we should also look to hang out with Gabby some more to improve relationship levels with her. Right now she's about two levels lower than Rowe, which does kind of bother me a bit.

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The send off is short, but sweet. The civilians who aren't busy and even the on-duty guards wish you luck. Blackburn remains as businesslike and curt as ever. You've already brought him up to speed on your momentary encounter with the mermaids and their warnings about the sea a few days ago. Soon enough, Rowe is leading your entourage out the gates and across the island towards the mountain range within which Khagh Moldir is nestled.

Guiding Tornado over to where Du'kov rides, you decide to speak with him and illuminate the true meaning of the word orgy to your squire.

“So it's when a large number of people get together and . . . have sex,” you explain.

He looks at you, concerned. “Do your people do this often?”

You shake your head rapidly. “No, not at all. It's something only really wealthy people ever do. And even then I assume it's quite a rare occurence. Do you know what sarcasm is?”

He shakes his head.

“So, for humor, a thing a lot of people do where I'm from is say one thing to mean another.”

“Is that not just lying?”

“No, you see . . .”

. . .

Half an hour passes on your trail through the plains and you've managed to elucidate upon a variety of subjects with the tribal orc you believe it best for him to be explicitly aware of. From cultural context to gender roles in society and a fair bit of history regarding what your civilization is like across the ocean upon the mainland. As you conclude your spiel and have successfully explained every topic you were concerned, you finally meet up with Vrimkis.

At first you don't notice him. But then he pops his furry little head up from where he was laying in the grass and waves his arms animatedly to draw your half-elf pathfinder's attention. She raises her hand to halt your group as the Skaven skinwalker approaches.

He takes a moment to survey the entirety of your team before letting out a sharp, high whistle. “Big group,” Vrimkis comments vaguely in Orcish. “They're all going to participate in the delve?”

Rowe gives him a nod. “Do you have the map?”

The ratman nods enthusiastically, drawing a piece of parchment that looks like its been scribbled upon from a pouch at his side. “Not the most decipherable thing I've written, but I can lead you there myself. Also,” he taps upon his cranium with a finger, “I remember all the stories that have been passed down through my lineage since the time of mygreat, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather's escape. I know the ins and outs as well as if I had been inside already.”

“You don't have a mount, do you?” Rowe asks, looking about.

The ratman grins, wiggling his snout. “Figured I would hitch a ride with you.”

In seconds, he shifts into his rat form. Scurrying through the grass, he crawls up the leg of Rowe's horse, which nearly startles the poor beast. Rowe, however, is quickly able to calm her steed as Vrimkis takes his place upon your girlfriend's shoulder.

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The trek resumes right after, with Rowe and Vrimkis communicating for short snippets at a time every few hours on your journey.

Days pass as you move across the plains. The nights, despite Desden's trepidation, go by without issue. Everyone able to keep their hands to themselves although the dialogue and banter manages to adopt a mockingly sarcastic tone that your squire is now quite capable of understanding thanks to your teaching.

Because of your need to only meditate for four hours a day, you're able to spend time with Rowe on her watches as well, just chatting about things and talking of home and the past. Spending time as friends and as a couple deep into the night. When Rowe needs to get her beauty sleep, you hang out with your animal companions. Brushing Tornado's mane, playing fetch with Pascala, shooting the shit with Muffin.

After three days of travel you've entered the rolling hills where the various cave-dwelling species live in a multitude of underground tunnels. Your pace slows slightly as Rowe keeps her eyes peeled for any locals who might think to intervene or cause your traveling party any trouble.

“Passing near Firegem village,” Rowe calls out to you all. “In case this expedition turns out to be a bust, you think we should leave someone behind to help and convince Emperor Ungblot in gathering rubies for the offering to Burn this month?”

“I volunteer!” Eve pipes up from the back.

>Leave Eve behind
>Forget it

AND

>Roll me 1d100 + 79, best of three. This is to see how many ranger levels you get.

Rolled 48 + 79 (1d100 + 79)

>>1298661
I think we will still have time on our way back.

Rolled 88 + 79 (1d100 + 79)

>>1298661
>Forget it
We might need extra magical power when we get there, and her dragon form might help dig through any collapsed tunnels.

Rolled 51 + 79 (1d100 + 79)

>>1298661

>>1298661
>>Forget it

>>1298661
i'm starting to get curious as to what's on the other side of those mountains.

have we asked about that yet?

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“Eh forget it,” you opine. “Let's just focus on the task ahead with all we've got and hope for the best.” Rowe nods along and no one else offers any dissent to your decision.

. . .

You ride for another four days, the distance you're able to travel each day lessened due to the marginally more difficult terrain compared to the plains and Rowe's extremely cautious stance on preventing an ambush requiring her to check behind every hill and beside every cave for things that might wish to cause you trouble.

The worst thing you encounter as the days seem to bleed together with everyone quite and focused on traveling is a small group of goblins. They notice you in advance, but quickly flee into their cave when they spy that you outnumber them. Rowe takes note of their location on a map she carries, but insists that the time it would take to investigate and deal with them would prove too costly at the current moment.

Soon enough, you find yourself in the mountainous region of the island. A place you've only been to once before, when you were dragged into the temporary Mountain Rider encampment after your nearly fatal encounter with the hill giants.

The terrain you travel through is rocky, coarse and rough. The valleys and rises you traverse become much steeper and more draining upon the stamina of your steeds – especially of the pony Eve rides on. Soon you are immersed within a variety of snow-covered peaks atop stony grey rises. The foreboding feeling that you could be watched from any prominence sinks in, especially considering how slow the going becomes as Rowe remains extra careful. You spy birds of various wingspans and dull, muted colors. Eagles, vultures and a few smaller species that are too far away for you to adequately identify. Rams can be spotted standing on impossibly steep-angled mountainsides, braying every once in awhile to disturb the relative silence as you move.

Thankfully, you're only on edge for half a day's ride. Vrimkis hops off of Rowe's horse and retakes his genuine Skaven form, leading you on a weaving path around the mountains towards the Dwarven ruin.

“There it is,” he eventually speaks from around a corner, an hour after he started leading you on foot.

Rowe is the first one to lay eyes on it other than your native guide. And her thoughts come through loud and clear.

(Woah.)

You guide Tornado around the bend yourself and are greeted by a sight that is significantly worthy of at least a 'woah'.

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Across a chasm that appears like a rent in the earth rendered by some massive force lies a man-made bridge. It is of high quality masonry and stonework, elegantly etched designs carved into the structure. It is dwarfed in appearance, however, by the massive entrance set into the mountainside. An iron set of double doors large enough to fit two of those hill giants through walking side by side is surrounded by two pillars with the likeness of a large dwarven face carved into each. Dwarven likenesses adorn the entirety of the main entrance. Up above on a balcony set atop a protrusion over the large door is a smaller opening. Red banners line across the edge of the far side of the chasm, standing resolute like eternal guardians warding off any invaders who seek to cross the choke point that is the bridge. You can spy places for torches whose fires have long since been extinguished – enough to keep the area well-lit even in the darkest of moonless nights.

The entire area – as the most technologically advanced architectural feat you've seen on the island – would prove to be quite eye catching if it wasn't so well placed within the mountains. A nearly hidden alcove on a scale grander than you thought possible.

You sit still as your eyes feast upon the sight. Soon enough the rest of your party has come round the bend and spies Khagh Moldir. Varying levels of audible murmur signify a range of expressed interest. Some of them are impressed. Others are not. In the end though, all of you are gathered before the bridge.

Vrimkis clears his throat and addresses you in the Orcish tongue – which all of you can understand save for Gabby.

“Behold!” he announces theatrically. “The majesty of Khagh Moldir!”

“And you're sure the dwarves aren't home?” Rowe inquires, slightly skeptical.

He shakes his head back and forth as his tail swishes like a counterbalance. “Nope! They abandoned it at the same time of my great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather's escape.”

“And why would they leave if they put all this work into making the place?” Dolah investigates, her suspicions suddenly raised.

The Skaven responds with a shrug. “Same reason I refuse to step foot inside without competent back up. Bad shit.”

Desden chimes in. “That's a lie.”

Vrimkis groans. “I refuse to step inside without competent back up because of whatever made the dwarves abandon it and whatever defensive measures the dwarves left behind.”

“That's a lie.”

“AND if the dwarves have returned for some reason I would like to not get enslaved or murdered. Also, I'm so scared in general that I don't feel safe without being surrounded by people braver than me. I also wouldn't mind if a few of you end up dying during this delve so the split of the treasure results in a larger portion for myself since you brought so many fucking people. Of course, I'm not going to risk betraying you, especially now that I've said that out loud and you're going to suspect me of foul play if something unfortunate was to occur anyway.”

“That's a – ”

“UNLESS I GET A CHANCE TO KILL THAT FUCKING HUMAN WITH THE CROSSBOW I SWEAR UPON THE GREAT WARREN I WILL PUSH YOU OFF A CLIFF IF I SEE THE OPPORTUNITY, YOU -” and then Vrimkis descends into a flurry of rodent-like chittering you assume is profanity in his native tongue.

Desden smiles smugly. “That's the truth.”

Rowe looks to the rest of your crew and speaks over Vrimkis in the human tongue. “Well we've got two entrances. The big door which we can see about opening up or we could fly up to the balcony area and enter that way. Also, we can go in right now or camp right in front for the night and see if anything decides to come out and 'greet' us. Thoughts?”

>Go in now
>Camp outside and see if something happens

AND

>Open up the big door
>Enter through the balcony

AND

>something else? (write-in)

>>1303778
>>Camp outside and see if something happens
>Enter through the balcony


Let's assume a buddy system for night watch, and make sure that Vrimkis is never with someone who might fall asleep or might get in a fight with him. He's suspicious, so I'd say keep an eye on him.

>>1303778
>Camp outside and see if something happens
Also, because I want to be at full power and fully rested before going in.

>Enter through the balcony
Make sure to fire some arrows and have Quissonce's owl scout it out before we go in. Maybe have Muffin climb up and make sure there's no obvious traps as well.

>Something else
Make sure to find a place where the horses can be stabled and be safe.

>>1303788
>He's suspicious, so I'd say keep an eye on him.
EVERYBODY is suspicious of him right now, so I actually think he's more trustworthy. He knows that if anything happens, he'll automatically be blamed.

>>1303788
>>1303800
>>1303806
yeah, we probably should have gotten some wolfsbane or whatever.

upvoting, by the way.

>>1303778
>>something else? (write-in)
also, did Vrimkis still not tell us what he's put all of this together? Should we ask why he's being so secretive about it?

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“Let's camp out here for the night,” you suggest in accordance with the latter of Rowe's proffered plans. “Observe to see if the place is really abandoned. Plus,” you add, “I want us at full power and fully rested before we head inside. And if nobody objects, I think we should enter through the smaller entrance up top.”

Rowe nods. “Well if we're entering that way and want to preserve our strength for tomorrow, we should cast the fly spells now and get up to the balcony today so our spellcasters will be fresh for whatever is in store for us inside. Looks to me like there's enough room up there for us all to comfortably camp just outside the entryway. Natural roof beneath the mountain so we won't need the pavilion. All we really have to carry up is our sleeping bags. You don't mind being that close by, do you?”

You shake your head. “If we're waiting to see if something changes, better to be close enough to the fortress to detect anything. What about the horses though? We can't get them up there via magic, can we?”

“Not enough room even if we could. We'll stable them out front,” the ranger concludes. “I'll feed them tonight before we head up. Considering how the entrance is protected from the elements and the wandering eyes of most locals that are potentially lurking in the nearby area, they'll probably be safe. I'll leave Sif behind to guard them just in case, however. I'll bring some climbing gear up with me too, on the off chance we run out of our magical reserves tomorrow and need to get down to our mounts the natural way in a hurry.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Gale opines, the barbarian shifting in his saddle as he speaks.

You all look towards the bridge and see that Kyra has slipped off her horse and is already testing the ornate overpass for booby traps and potential instability in the structure. It looks sturdy and well made, even if it theoretically hasn't been actively maintained in a while, but it never hurts to be overly cautious when you're dealing with things keeping you from plummeting hundreds of feet to your death at the bottom of a rocky gorge.

You are soon given an all clear signal from the dedicated thief in the form of a thumbs up, indicating the bridge is safe to traverse. Even so, you make certain to keep a few feet of distance between each rider to avoid resting too much weight on any one spot. Looking down as you cross, you take solace in the fact that you aren't afraid of heights. At least not while you're trotting forward, sitting safely atop Tornado's back.

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On the other side of the bridge, Kyra takes point and thoroughly investigates each carved protrusion and raised piece of stonework for anything that could be a trap or a secret switch. Rowe, in the meanwhile, begins preparing for your sleeping arrangements tonight. Everyone dismounts and takes their sleeping bag with them as she guides the horses – and most of the gear stored upon them that isn't of immediate use to your allies – off to the side into the rougher, excavated section of the mountain that isn't covered in a man-made pathway.

The animals are fed and watered as the dark skin woman finishes her task. You and Quissonce make yourselves useful during this time by having your familiars scout ahead. Chester the owl gently grasps Muffin in his talons before taking off for the balcony some fifty feet above you. Muffin chitters angrily and then incoherently as he is taken along for the ride. Still quite safely within range of the empathetic link you and the squirrel possess, you're able to feel their progress as they determine to the best of their animal abilities that there are no traps up there outside the balcony entrance nor are there any other people in the close vicinity.

They return the exact same way they left. And Muffin makes it clear how not pleased he is with the indignity you forced him to endure. Kyra confirms no traps in front of the big door either and Rowe informs Sif of his duty as watchwolf for the night.

Eve, Quissonce and Ed begin doling out the casts of Fly upon the rest of you. Desden, Dolah and Gabby fly up first. Then Gale, Du'kov and Kyra ascend next. Rowe, yourself and Vrimkis are hit with the third round of spells. And your casters bring up the rear. Lifting Pascala up with you on your flight proves an easy task with your advanced strength.

From that point on, you spend the rest of your day in the tight, enclosed confines set up by the balcony's railing and the open entry into the unknown depths of the ruin distracting yourselves with card games and other trivial pursuits that keep your minds occupied.

Looking out from this spot, you realize it provides a great view for any oncoming patrols or attackers. A fine place to set a sentry, if the dwarves had returned to this outpost. You also notice you cannot hear any loud noises from within, although according to Vrimkis this place stretches deep down into the interior of this impressively wide mountain.

Soon enough, night settles into the island and watches begin as your surroundings suddenly grow very very dark.

>Roll me 1d100 + 25, best of 3. This is a perception check.

Rolled 76 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>1305394

Rolled 96 + 25 (1d100 + 25)

>>1305394

Rolled 38 (1d100)

>>1305394
RE

>>1305402
Man Wrenloft, you and Krag'mar do clutch.

>>1305426
who's krag'mar?

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>>1305461
Another guy on the boards, and is often on quests that you aren't. Though to be fair, I am currently following a fair amount of quests right now.

>>1305492
shit, there's another odst quest?

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Dolah and Quissonce are your chosen sentries for the 1st watch of the night. The rest of you settle into your bedrolls, drifting off into slumber high up on the balcony while your allies keep watch primarily on the upper entrance to Khagh Moldir, which seems to beckon you all forth with its vague promises of alluring secrets and mystery. Every ounce of your curiosity yearns to just head on in right this moment – especially since you are less than thirty feet from the starting point to the meat of this expedition. It almost feels like you're teasing yourself with the delay.

But you easily quash all those errant thoughts, focusing instead on the pragmatic truth to your decision. Whatever is in there, will be there in the morning. And if it chooses to leave, it will most likely have to sneak past you. You give the two women guarding your vulnerable, sleeping forms a nod of acknowledgment, before snuggling into the comfort of your bedroll. Drifting off into a meditative trance, you remain aware enough of your immediate surroundings, even as you recharge physically and mentally from the rough journey on horseback of yesterday.

You recuperate rapidly, and by the time you are disturbed by Gale and Eve to take up your duty as watchman you are fully refreshed and ready to face the world.

Instead you face the entrance, eyes riveted to the opening. Only the intense mental discipline you've gleamed off your monk ally allows you to dismiss the phantom movements you detect in the dark, product as they are of an overactive imagination desperate to see something that isn't there. No, you can keep your brain in check just fine.

Distinguishing between reality and tricks of the mind's own creation to stave off boredom is rather simple. Especially when you have the discipline to still your mind, purging it of all unnecessary distractions as you resume a more wakeful meditation to keep your senses honed and ready.

When you finally hear the faint buzzing of wings an hour or so into your watch, you almost think to ignore it. Taking the noise to be a product of some nearby fly. But – you soon realize – the noise is too loud and possesses a . . . tinny quality. You keep your eyes peeled and search for the source of the disturbance.

What you eventually spot approaching past the threshold of the ruin's enry corridor is . . . unique-looking to say the least.

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You believe whatever it is, it must be trying to remain secretive – despite how quickly it draws your attention and then proceeds to stand out against the background like a sore thumb. Flying towards your group – quiet, but not entirely silent – comes a a tiny creature that looks to be made out of metal and gears. No wider than two feet regardless of which way you could choose to measure the thing, the round spherical top half of it is placed atop six spindly legs – like that of an overgrown spider's. At the center of its body sits a rounded, red metal gem that positively glows with a seemingly magical sheen even though nothing lights up under the scrutiny of your Arcane Sight when you gaze at the creature.

Protruding from its center of mass are two wings that retract into its body as it comes closer. Instead of flying from this point forward, the small thing decides to crawl across the ceiling towards your group, perhaps believing it will be less noticeable that way. Unfortunately for it, the grinding of metal and whirring of cogs proves too powerful an audible factor to keep you from losing track of the thing now that you have your sights set on it.

>Wait to see what it does
>Destroy the thing
>Attempt to capture it
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1307939
>Wait to see what it does

>>1307939
>>Wait to see what it does
be ready to capture or destroy it if it does something funny

>>1308090
Seconding

>>1308090
second

>>1307939
seriously, we're dealing with the technological remnants of an advanced predecessor species? A tad cliche, yes?

>>1308807
>seriously, we're dealing with the technological remnants of an advanced predecessor species? A tad cliche, yes?

This is seriously the cliche fantasy trope that grinds your gears? It hasn't been the first in this quest.

>>1309091
hm... fair point. You win this round, Trick.

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>>1309091

You make the decision simply to watch the strange construct go about its business without interfering as it skitters its way upside down – at least you believe it is upside down – towards the rest of your party. You glance over to Rowe who you are sharing the watch with. She catches your eye and offers a small half-smile.

(I see it too.) she thinks at you.

The two of you remain calm and act nonchalant as the creature makes it out through the balcony's sole entrance into Khagh Moldir and crawls along the wall. It slinks its way across one of the two carved pillars thank flank either side of the opening, eventually making its way around the corner and planting itself firmly into the wall, digging in with it's spider-like legs.

There it sits, the red jewel at its center beginning to pulsate at a steady rhythm. If that gemstone lodged in its body is the thing's eye than it has placed itself in the perfect position to observe the entirety of the balcony, including all of the people currently sleeping and yourselves.

Rowe's expression contorts itself into an uncomfortable frown. (Is it watching us?)

You and your lover keep yourselves busy for the next hour with various mindless tasks – the sort you usually have to do while keeping watch. All the while at least one of you has your eyes on this thing peeping on you in supposed secrecy. Every once in awhile Rowe looks out over the railing down to the horses and Sif to make sure they're all okay.

Other than its awkward presence, the metal spy does not disturb you. It doesn't seem to be casting a spell or calling for backup to attack you or where your horses are temporarily stable below. Nothing in the environment changes and you cannot hear anything other than the wind as it blows through, creating an eerie echo in this carved out section of mountain.

Eventually, your shift on watch has come to an end, as Rowe mentally points out.

(So . . . it's still there. Hasn't done much. But it's there. What do you think we should do?)

>Destroy it
>Approach it and attempt to speak
>Wake up the next group on watch and bring them up to speed
>Wake everybody up
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1310004
>Wake everybody up
>Approach it and attempt to speak
Ed seems to know a bit about machinery, so either he or Quissonce might know something.

>>1310017
>Wake everybody up
>Approach it and attempt to speak

>>1310004
>Wake everybody up
>Approach it and attempt to speak

>>1310004

>>Wake everybody up
>>Approach it and attempt to speak

It doesn't take long for you and Rowe to wake up the rest of your party. Quissonce was already up and awake from her meditation, perusing through a novel she had brought up to the balcony with her sleeping bag. It seems she was so engrossed the elf didn't even realize the foreign construct was there until you covertly point its existence out to her. She gives you a curt nod and remains silent after you put a single finger to your lips to gesture that she should not say anything that will alert the creature that you're onto its game at the moment.

Then comes Gabby and Desden into the waking world – the pair intended for the next shift of watches. Which . . . you realize could have turned out rather poorly without the emergence of this distraction prior to their turn keeping watch, considering the conflicting personalities of both people. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

As Dolah, Gale and Eve are roused from their slumber, you become the recipients of a small measure of stubborn, groggy anger by people who thought they would be enjoying a lot longer stretch of sleep time. Your half-elf lover even has to shove a hand over the gnome's mouth to keep her from saying too much of anything that might spook your uninvited guest.

Kyra, Ed, Du'kov and Vrimkis are awoken last and with a few subtle points of your fingers everyone is fully up to speed in regards to the situation as you've so far come to understand it.

Pulling Vrimkis aside, you whisper hoarsely in orcish to the ratman while your back is facing the small metallic intruder.

“Do you have any idea what that is?” you ask.

“Dwarf technology most likely,” he answers. “I've never seen anything like it in all my years, but the marvels and advances of their society were spoken of with wonder and awe by my father and his father before him. It looks to be in good shape, whatever it is.”

You pat the skaven on the back for his immediate cooperation, taking your leave of him as you gather your party in an impromptu huddle.

“Vrimkis says he thinks its Dwarven technology,” you relay. “So if it's working on their orders, they might still be here within the fort. I'm going to try to speak with the thing to see if I can establish contact of some sort. Sound good?”

You receive a round of silent nods and thumbs ups. Your course of action approved, you pivot away from the group and walk directly towards the spider-like contraption, its eye-catching red gemstone pulsating. Your friends watch you as you make your approach.

Unfortunately, before you finish your move to attempt engaging the thing in conversation, the construct uproots itself from the wall and begins scurrying away, back across the pillar as fast as it can possibly move itself. You find yourself slightly stunned as it seems the thing has finally reacted to your presence, retreating immediately back towards the corridor.

>Attempt to catch it before it escapes
>Shoot it
>Let it go
>Something else? (write-in)

>>1314170
>>Attempt to catch it before it escapes

>>1314170
>Attempt to catch it before it escapes
Hope it doesn't self-destruct.

>>1314170
>Attempt to catch it before it escapes