Darkworld IC

[Zed's Dead]

For some reason, the boards don't want to update the IC, so I'm sending it here. It also gives me a chance to fix gray's action.

With only a touch and a simple gesture, Kraalkar's wand spreads a beautiful, warm glow over Elva's abdomen. When the glow fades, her ragged breathing slows and becomes easier, though her intestines still dangle out of her wound.
The wolf glowers at Kraalkar, blood dripping from his bone-white teeth, and growls menacingly.

Daar drops her sword and charges the giant wolf. His ears twitch toward her and he turns just in time to intercept her mighty attack with his even mightier jaws, which clamp down upon her shoulder and nearly rend her arm from its socket. Fenris' mighty forepaw sweeps her feet and sends her sprawling, bloody and shocked, to the cave floor.

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Daar, take 24 damage.

Just as the wolf has felled Daar, "Gray lunges at him, with red eyes and bared teeth, oblivious to everything but the pain of loss and the urge to tear the wolf's throat apart." And she does catch him in the neck, ripping a strip of charred flesh from Fenris' throat. Blood spurts from the open wound.

Both of Arlen's arrows find their mark, but the first is turned by the wolf's tough hide. The second bites deep. Nearly half the shaft is buried in Fenris' side.

Fenris howls again in pain and rage as Grey's teeth, Arlen's arrows, and four spearpoints are buried in his lacerated flank. He looks at Arlen for a moment with his one remaining eye and then turns to the more immediate threat of the Walkers. His attacks are swift and powerful. One Walker lies eviscerated, much as Elva was just seconds before. Another's neck is torn out by Fenris' thrashing teeth.

Vred calls out in a shaky, but strong voice.
<Kill it! KILL IT, OR WE ALL DIE TONIGHT!>

The Wolf howls loud and long. You have heard this before. He is calling to his pack.

All (except Elva)

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Make Listen AND Spot checks.

END ROUND FOUR. BEGIN ROUND FIVE.

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

Kraalkar feels the energy flow out of the item in his hand and into Elva's body. When the glow fades, he senses that the power stored in the stick has diminished slightly. So its power is limited... I wonder if I do it again... Ignoring the thrashing wolf as well as the dull throb behind his eyes, he concentrates again.

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I had posted my Listen and Spot checks, but accidentally deleted that post. I had rolled a 4 Listen and 6 Spot. Here are the other rolls Kraalkar is making during this round.

(1d20+8)[18] Use Magic Device (vs DC 20)
(1d8+1)[7] Amount healed if the UMD check is successful

Daar is sent flying, ribbons of blood trailing through the air. The Son of Wulocha is among the Walkers, and two fall.

<Kill it! KILL IT, OR WE ALL DIE TONIGHT!>

Kraalkar stands and grips his sword in both fists. He has nothing left, but there is only one acceptable course of action. Ancestors, prepare my place. He raises his voice in the mal'iq.

"Drew I then the gaze of Wulocha,
the hater of man and render of life.
Sent his minions to do me battle,
ravenous foes Wulocha’s hounds,
yet not availing their master’s plan;
fell to my blade of trustworthy steel."

[Tura]

Gray

Gray presses on, still raging, and bites savagely the giant wolf's exposed flank. His long howl unnerves her and she whines, scenting the pack almost above her head. Scared and cornered, but determined to keep guarding her only family, Gray roots her feet to the ground and growls.

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Gray attacks: (1d20+6)[22] for (1d20+4)[21] damage.
In case you need them, here are her spot (1d20+7)[24] and listen (1d20+7)[17] checks.
[If this is about being caught flat-footed against the other wolves, I think scent is enough for her (or at least counts, somehow). She can even take a move-equivalent action after the attack to pinpoint the location of the scent.]
Also, I edited a previous post (as Zed suggested), so that Elva has alerted the party to the presence of the wolves up there.

Stats
Gray: AC 19 (flat-footed 16, touch 13), hit points 37/40, Grapple +8, Fort +6, Ref +7, Will +2.
Elva: -1 hp, stabilized.

EDIT- Oh FFS, can't I once roll properly IC? This time I rolled a d20 for damage. Well, I rolled in OOC (again) and no, Gray didn't do 21 damage , he did 9.

[Zed's Dead]

spot/listen (DC 15)

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There is a shuffling, scrambling sound. A few pebbles fall from the hole in the ceiling and clatter to the cavern floor. Four wolves look through the hole down at you. Two seem to be judging the distance, but they look down at Fenris-Wolf and hesitate.

[harmonictempest]

Arlen...

...frowned. The poison had been at best a long shot - poison generally worked much better against smaller or weaker creatures, and this wolf was certainly neither. Noticing its packmates on the edge of the hole, Arlen bit his lip. Out of tricks at last, he could only hope that they could finish off the son of Fenris, and that such an action would be sufficiently intimidating to the rest of the pack. Not one for dramatic flair or death song, his reaction to this rather fatalistic conclusion was to press his lips together a bit more firmly, instruct Sul to keep out of the way as best she could, and continue firing arrows.

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Attack - (1d20+5)[12]
Damage - (1d8)[7]
Attack - (1d20+5)[22]
Damage - (1d8)[8]

I'm outta bright ideas. TPK or no, I'm in Kraalkar's boat - fresh out of tricks. I think we all are.

[Zimmia]

Daar

Weary with the effort, and knowing that the end was very near Daar calls on the last bit of grace she can muster before she joins her beloved spirits. She utters the words of an ancient prayer and she begins to glow as she is reinforced by their gifts. There was no time for regret or concern and through her grievous wounds her muscles heave and with tremendous effort she grabs her sword and stabs for the underbelly of the great wolf.

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Wow. Just wow.
Activating strength domain granted power - str = 25 (this round only)
AC = 10 (-4 prone)
Attack (including +1 for STR, +2 flanking and -4 being prone): (1d20+10)[16]
Damage (incluiding all STR): (2d4+7)[12]
HP: 2/48
Rage: 1 more round

[Zed's Dead]

Daar's blade plunges into Fenris Wolf's belly, severing something deep within him.

Simultaneously, Arlen's arrow buries itself in the wolf's side, just under his left foreleg.

The beast jerks with a violent gasp, and as it releases its breath, gallons of blood pour from its nostrils and open mouth. The once-mightly legs buckle, and Fenris-Wolf's body crashes to the ground.

Daar:

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Make a reflex save as the body falls (hopefully not onto you)

The wolf's breathing is ragged and pained as his heart pumps his life onto the floor.

All:

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Spot and listen checks

[Zimmia]

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Reflex: (1d20+2)[7]

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

The Son of Wulocha crumples to the ground with Daar's blade buried in its belly. The wound looks mortal, but Kraalkar knows that creatures infused with Wulocha's hatred will kill while they have any life left in them. Best to be certain with this one. Kraalkar moves around Elva's body and gauges the ravaged wolf. His arms ache from the weight of the sword, but he delivers a precise blow to the back of the wolf's neck at the base of its skull with an accuracy that speaks of many years spent chopping wood.

Then he turns his face toward the hole in the ceiling and laughs, taunting any other wolves within reach of his voice with the words of the mal'iq.

"Many his minions filled with fel hatred,
and many are those who do his bidding.
There stand I with faithful companions,
stern and unyielding, a clansman true!
I go to those who went before me,
noble warriors and honorable men!"

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(1d20)[7] Spot check
(1d20)[2] Listen check

5-foot step to G19, full round action to coup de grace the wolf.

[Zed's Dead]

DC 15 Spot and Listen:

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Snarls from the hole above alert you to the wolf pack's presence. A few seem to be eager to jump down into the cavern, but two of the wolf-faces have disappeared.

The Fenris-Wolf's body rolls over onto Daar and crushes the consciousness out of her. She is trapped under the massive corpse.

Daar:

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take 8 damage

The razor-sharp sword arcs downward and bites deeply. Fenris-Wolf's head rolls from its shoulders.

The Walkers at its flank scream wildly and flail their arms. They circle the body and thrust their spears into it in a mock battle scene, hooting and howling at the top of their lungs. Luckily, they step over Daar's outstretched legs.

[harmonictempest]

Arlen

With the wolf dead, Arlen quickly steps to Zimmia's side. She was grievously wounded before the wolf fell on her, and he fears for her condition now. <Kraalkar, friends help move body off brave friend!> he calls, throwing his obviously tired and thin frame into the effort behind the first to step forward.

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Heal check to see how Daar's doing: (1d20+8)[10]
Aid another strength check to help move wolf: (1d20-1)[13]
If Daar looks like she needs help, Arlen will take 10 on a Heal check to stabilize her, not using his healing kit and taking his time because they're not in the thick of battle. Result is a 16 in that case.

[Tura]

Gray

Gray moves out of the way as Kraalkar circles around and chops the wolf's head off. The Walkers' wild howls confuse her, and she steps back. She looks around in distress, not entirely sure who is friend and who is foe, and whines softly, tail behind her legs. Then she looks up at the hole in the ceiling, and the tail goes up again. Some wolves are still up there, and Gray begins to bark at them, loudly and aggressively.

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I just discovered that roleplaying your animal companion when you're down is a wonderful therapeutic method to get by that awful loneliness of just standing and watching.
At least when said animal companion is a dog. I don't know what I'd do with a fleshraker. Eat people, probably. *grins*

[Zed's Dead]

Vred sees Arlen pushing the wolf and notices that there are a pair of humanoid legs jutting from beneath the wolf's body. He shouts some orders to his companions, and each grabs a leg. Even without a head, the wolf's body is a huge, grunting weight.

Just the walker's free Daar's body, the wolf's hairy legs and torso shift. The walkers drop the wolf as though it has burned them, and back away. The massive claws lengthen into fingers. Its bushy hair retracts into the skin. The bloody ribcage flattens and broadens. Most incredible of all, the great, death-dealing muzzle of the wolf's severed head retracts into a familiar form: a broad nose, large square teeth, thick lips, and a jutting brow. Fenris Wolf is not a wolf at all. The burned, maimed body of a walker lies on the cave floor.

[harmonictempest]

Arlen

The elf's heart does a backflip as the monster changes form, and it is with difficulty that he restrains himself from dropping to examine the corpse immediately. The beast will still be there in a minute, and Daar needs help now - in any case, the Walkers may want to deal with this in their own fashion. As he bends to tend to Daar, his brain continues racing on the subject. Well, that would explain the wolf's strange behavior. He clears his mind and leans over Daar, using a small scrap of cloth to wipe away the worst of the blood and grit to see where the wounds are, and applying pressure to stanch the bleeding where he can. At the same time, he is cautious in his examination, as he does not know for certain how private the Uruks are about their bodies, especially the females, and does not want to provoke her or Kraalkar's anger.

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Heal check to tend to Daar's wounds: (1d20+6)[19] Not using up the Heal kit for now.

I had trouble wording it in the post, but basically, I have no idea whether Daar would wake up and be upset that a strange man was running his hands over her, even just to tend to wounds. I doubt it, but figured Arlen was likely to be careful of it anyway. So he's basically being delicate in how thorough his exam is, just in case. I could roll a Know (geography), but this one seemed better to play out.

[Zed's Dead]

harmonictempest:

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So many questions...
First off, Knowledge checks to see what Arlen knows about it IC.
Knowledge (nature): [roll0]
Knowledge (arcana): [roll1] - I think this is the more appropriate one, if it's a magical beast.
Knowledge (geography) on the Walkers to see if this sort of thing is known in legend of any kind (I checked, and I'm pretty sure geography is the correct one for info about a given people or culture): [roll2]

I'll post your answer here, because I can keep it straight, and also because I happen to be here right now.

Knowledge (nature): Arlen certainly knew there was something completely strange about this wolf. Not only was he bigger, he seemed to have murder in his heart.

Knowledge (arcana): This particular magical creature is of a kind you've never seen before, though you may have read about them or heard stories at some point. You certainly were getting your +2 damage against this creature. I tried to describe your successful attacks as if they were indeed pretty damaging, but I didn't want to give you too much.

I let you know everything you possibly could have known about this wolf, because in wolf form, it really is a wolf, not a common werewolf.

You have heard legends of a specific kind of curse which bonds a man to the spirit of nature. This is no ordinary lycanthropy, but an actual bonding of a wolf's spirit form to a man--a deliberate act that someone made, either to punish the individual or to teach him a lesson. One of the benefits (or drawbacks) of the curse is a long life due to the individual's constant infusion of energy from the natural world around him. The curse is curable if the one who casts it decides to break it, and the only other way you know to break it is death.

The eye-teeth, liver, heart, and blood of such a cursed humanoid have been known to have various magical properties, but just what those properties are, is pretty vague. You seem to remember something about "invigorating" effects being given to those who know how to utilize these as ingredients. You have read somewhere that seers sometimes could use part of the body of an accursed creature as a voci for powerful divination spells.

The Fenris-Wolf legend is related to this idea, but in the story, Fenris himself took a human female as his consort. Their offspring was a demi-god of incredible cunning and power, who, when he died, would become a human. It's possible that the Walkers will remember this story when they realize what has happened...or not.

Knowledge (geography): Although you've never been here before, you know that it's very likely that this Walker was (or is) a member of the tribe or a neighboring tribe of Walkers. You also know that their funeral rites can be quite emotionally charged and sometimes violent. You have a shadowy reminiscence of one phase of the process being called "Blame-Casting."

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

Kraalkar turns his head at the Walkers' gasps, and sees the Son of Wulocha's form shift into that of a Walker. Death is always the reward of those who bargain with Wulocha. The Hound of Chaos feasts well tonight. He gazes at the corpse, and then turns his attention to Daar. Kraalkar crouches next to her bleeding body.

The mal'iq continues to pulse through his veins, and Kraalkar finds it difficult to hold off, to keep from being swept into the death trance. The living still have use for you, Kraalkar. Your time has not come...yet. The dark-skinned elf is trying to stanch Daar's wounds, but blood continues to pulse from her mangled shoulder despite his skillful ministrations. Kraalkar raises his hands to his forehead, palms out, and sweeps them down and to the side. There is no ill intent here, shinja. In this I repay my debt. Kraalkar lays the carved stick against her shoulder and tries to concentrate on the intricate symbols.

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(1d20+8)[15] Use Magic Device check vs DC 20
(1d8+1)[2] cure result on Daar if check is successful.

[Zed's Dead]

The walkers, including Vred, gape at the beheaded corpse. A voice from the darkness breaks the silence.

<Touch it not. It is filth.>

The chieftan rises and walks painfully toward the corpse, leaning heavily on his cudgel.

<We will burn it tomorrow, and the others. This is the last. Three of three. We are free.>

The chieftan turns and looks up at the few wolves gathered around the ceiling hole. He picks up a rock and hurls it through the opening. A corresponding yip tells you he hit his mark.

<Wolfs no come back tonight. They lose fighting spirit.>

The wolves move away from the ceiling hole.
He gestures to two of his men.

<You watch. Eyes open. Call loud if you hear wolves. We come and kill.>

They hold their spears tightly and nod in agreement. One runs back down the south passage toward the firelight.
The chieftan looks at Kraalkar and Arlen, and then down at Daar and Elva.
He speaks in broken Varsa now.

You small folk brave help kill it. It dead with you fight. You battle-strong. Not rise again, no head.
He walks over to the grotesque head, reaches down, and yanks his flint knife from its eye socket and wipes it on the hairy belly of the body. The blood is thick and black.

Tonight, you ours. You stay. You others live? We take, heal her and her. Good heal.

The chieftan smiles, revealing his large, white teeth again. One was broken in the fight. He is covered in his own blood and his face is smashed on the right side, but he is beaming with an aspect that can only be described as joy. He motions to Vred, and she lifts the bodies of the dead Walkers onto her shoulders and walks down the southern hallway.

He gently lifts Daar and motions for Kraalkar and Arlen to pick up Elva, then heads down the hallway to the South. He does not look back.

[harmonictempest]

Arlen

Arlen nodded, staring with renewed interest at the older corpses along the wall. Maybe later, he thinks, before moving next to Elva's feet and standing ready to help Kraalkar carry her. Sul flutters down onto his gloved left hand, and he smoothes her ruffled feathers, calming her down from the recent fight. We'll be safe with these people tonight, Sul-lah, he says. Stay here for a little while and keep watch with this man. In a deliberately casual voice, he adds, And let me know if he leaves this room empty. Then he releases her from his wrist, looking to Kraalkar.

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It should be mentioned that the language Arlen speaks to Sul in is Elven. So, you guys can get some sense of what he's saying when he gives her directions, because she goes and does them, but not much detail otherwise unless you know the language.

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

Kraalkar nods, and watches the Walker chieftain carry Daar out of the chamber. In the absence of a threat the mal'iq fades from his pulse, leaving the barbarian hollow and achey and very, very tired. The dull throb behind his eyes intensifies, and all Kraalkar wants to do is find a corner and collapse. Instead, he wipes his sword free of blood and fur and then sheathes it, and slides the carved stick back into his pouch.

Arlen whispers to the bird on his wrist and then releases it. Kraalkar stares at the gore-slicked cave floor and the bodies on the floor, at the spot where Daar's blood stains the rock, and at Elva's body, and then at Arlen. He shakes his head dumbly. We survived. The thought is only beginning to register through the haze of exhaustion clouding his mind. He moves to Elva's head.

Once again Kraalkar raises his hands to his forehead, palms out, and sweeps them down and to the sides. Then he bends and grips Elva by the shoulders, straightening with a stifled groan as Arlen lifts her feet. He props her head on his forearms--she deserves her dignity--and follows the chieftain out of the cave.

[Zed's Dead]

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Those of you who are conscious may post to tell me how you act during the next few minutes of action. This is a bit of a fast forward, but I don't want the game to lag. Forgive me. If you wish, I'll provide a translation, but I think it's fun this way.

You walk down the passageway, which turns and angles sharply downward. You hear the chieftan mumble something in the darkness, and a stone is rolled away, revealing the inner chamber. This must have been some kind of primitive defense mechanism, in case wolves got into the cave.

The inner chamber is comparatively bright. There are fewer than twenty Walkers there. 7 men (including the chieftan), 8 females, and 4 young ones--19 all told. The fire has been lit, and a doe's carcass is roasting on a cleverly improvised spit in the center of the room. The smoke clouds the chamber before being sucked through an as-yet unseen vent in the ceiling, which itself is 15 feet high. The smell of unwashed bodies is pungent and stronger than it would be in a town meeting-hall or tavern, but not altogether unpleasant.

The chieftan, carrying Daar, is greeted with relief, concern and puzzlement from the various members of the tribe. He places Daar gently on a fur mat and then addresses his tribe. Their attention snaps immediately to him.

Vul-Vesh harh das nicht. Vul-Vesh Gal Gok. Vul-vesh kask aroo y aroo y aroo. Vul vesh kask GAL AROO, FENRIS!

At this, the Walkers go crazy. There is hooting and hollering and jumping. One older woman cries. The chieftan allows his tribe to have their moment of victory. When the celebration wanes, he raises his hands again.

Cossan. Cossan, cossan.

He looks for all the world like a lord mayor addressing an assembly, waving his arms. All is quiet. Now the smile fades, his gaze drops to the ground. He slowly raises his eyes toward the tribe.

Sard Multa. Gan Multa. Gok multa. Lof Multa.

There is a moment of silence, though none has been called for.

The tribe goes back to their work--sadder, yet perhaps more hopeful than before.

Two of the bodies from the wolf fight--Sard and Gan, you suspect--have been laid in a corner, right next to each other. One older woman is tending the one whose throat was ripped out, while a young girl tends the other. The girl is washing the wounds of the second body when he emits a grunt of pain. The girl jumps back and gives a quick and instinctive sign--perhaps to ward off evil. The woman glances over and calls out to the chieftan: Semena! Semena Gan!

The chieftan's eye widens with surprise and excitement.

Vrethal, Vred! Semena Gan! Dos! Dos! SEMENA GAN!

Vred grabs a large leather pouch and approaches the body. She examines him for a moment, and then looks up at the chieftan with a smile.

Sa sa!

The entire group begins to hoot and holler as if they had achieved a great victory. There is much laughter and rejoicing. The chieftan spreads his arms.

COSSAN!

Immediately, the group quiets, and watches Vred do sprinkle a powder into a small clay jar with a little water. Vred rubs the paste on the Walker's wounds, closes the wound, and stitches it together with a bone needle. Gan jerks with the pain, but his eyes remain closed. You can hear his troubled breathing now.

The chamber is still abuzz with excitement.

The chieftan sends two Walkers to get Lof's body.

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

The chamber is warm and redolent with the thick, layered scent of communal living. Kraalkar blinks as he steps into the firelight, struck by a sense of familiarity and a sudden, sharp longing for his family's hearth. He swallows the lump in his throat. Spirits send I find what I'm looking for at Stone so I can return...home.

Maneuvering carefully across the floor, Kraalkar lays Elva down on a pile of furs, and then straightens wearily. He wants nothing more than to lie down and sleep, but it is important to maintain appearances.

He turns to the chieftain. <You are great warriors. We were honored to fight beside you to defeat that creature.>

[harmonictempest]

Arlen

As Arlen walks down the hall, he feels his muscles unknotting, despite the effort of carrying Elva's body. Stepping in a warm hall thick with auras of comfort and security makes his eyelids heavy indeed, but the investigator is wide awake and watching events with great interest, already making mental notes to add to his considerable store. As with all new events, especially those involving large numbers of people, Arlen does not thrust himself into any spotlight, but waits and observes, reacting as the situation prompts. He bows respectfully at the chief's compliment, and accepts the meat given to him, saving a small strip for Sul.

Following Kraalkar's lead, he remains on his feet until the formal interactions have given way to general suppertime. Tonight will be a welcome rest after this hellish journey.

Noting the healers walking over toward his comrades, he follows.
<Can I help in any way?> Arlen asked respectfully, eager to see his companions back on their feet. After watching them tip broth down both the women's throats, and bowing respectfully during the prayers, Arlen moves in as the women leave. Arranging the furs under them so that they'll be as comfortable as possible, he takes a few clean strips of cloth from his pack, and binds the worst of their wounds after cleaning them as well as can be done at the time. That ought to make them more comfortable when they finally wake.

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Taking 10 on Heal Aid Another check for 16. This is for "long term care", so they gain twice as many hp as usual overnight tonight.

As the evening winds down, Arlen finds his thoughts turning more and more to the creature they'd killed. What kind of magic could create such a monster? What kind of lingering effects might that leave in the body? He'd heard of certain pieces of such creatures being used for magical purposes, and the draw to be able to experiment himself was overpowering.

Arlen took a very practical view of death, practical as in all other aspects of life. He bore nothing but the utmost respect for the spirits of the dead, and he would pray this evening for the spirit of the man the dead creature had been. However, with the spirit gone, any body, while worthy of some respect as the previous home of an individual, was still inescapably little more than a piece of rotting meat (an opinion he knew better than to voice too openly around more staunchly religious folk). Arlen respected the dead, but would not flinch at the chance to get some samples to study later.

When the chieftain introduced himself, Arlen took the opportunity. <It is an honor, Tor. My name is Arlen. If it is not private, may I ask if you know how those Walkers became such creatures?> He phrases it carefully, hoping for some opening that will give him access to the body.

[Zed's Dead]

Arlen:

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<It is an honor, Tor. My name is Arlen. If it is not private, may I ask if you know how those Walkers became such creatures?>

Tor's face registers disgust, and then contorts even more in order to pronounce the little-used descriptive term in Woric.

Met'ul Ful'chal!

<Abomination! The witches do this.>

He pauses, makes a symbol of warding by spitting onto the back of his hand, sprinkling dust into it, and annointing his forehead with an "X."

<It forbidden to speak his name. He will rise to kill if I do. I saw it before.>

All:

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OOC: I'm going to keep Arlen's conversation separate from the action moving forward, and allow both to continue simultaneously in Earth time. Arlen's midnight adventure will take place via email, should he choose to undertake it.

Daar and Elva:
You rest easily, drifting in and out of consciousness through the night, but without a hint of anxiety or fear. The broth and the minstrations of Arlen bring your body, mind, and spirit much-needed rest. Your dreams and consciousness intermingle until you have little idea where one ends and the other begins. You wake in a large room full of sleeping Walkers. You have been placed right next to one another. Two Walker females lie on either side of you. One even has a protective hand on Daar's arm. Your weapons are lying beside you, and there is a small pot of drinking water made from melted snow near each of your heads.

Kraalkar:
You sleep as though you were dead. You do not stir or turn or shift your body for ten hours. Your long, deep breaths of the smoky, sultry atmosphere allow you an ease you have not known since you were a child. It is truly as if you were with your clan again. When you wake, there is an instant of pain from aching joints and muscles, but also from the realization that the slumbering bodies are not actually Uruks at all, but Walkers. The events of the preceeding day rush back to your mind.

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

Awareness comes slowly to Kraalkar, wrapped as he is in warm furs and the soothing fog of sleep. He hears the quiet sounds of people preparing for their day, but all he wants to do is pull the furs over his head for a few more moments. Neini will be along shortly to roust him out of bed, and then he'll have to go fetch water for cooking, but if he can just get a few more minutes of sleep... Something nags at his thoughts, but he can't pin it down. Today he might not have to do his boring lessons. Warke wanted to go hunting and he might bring Kraalkar along. Game won't be easily found today as big a nuisance as those wolves made of themselves yesterday scaring off the deer -- wait, what wolves... -- and especially that big bastard with the flaming eyes. ...there haven't been wolves this year... And someone is roasting venison...for the morning meal?

The elusive thought hovers just beyond the edge of Kraalkar's comprehension. Then the sound of guttural voices and the thick, somehow alien scent of the air penetrates his sleep-shrouded mind, and he comes fully awake with a queer shock and a sudden gasp. This is not my home.

The events of the previous day flood through his mind and Kraalkar feels chilled despite the thick furs. Around him, Walkers prepare for their day, talking quietly in their deep voices. Daar and Elva lie on furs, carefully bandaged. Kraalkar's body aches as he stiffly lifts himself out of the furs and stretches, wincing in pain as his wounds pull against their scabs. He yawns, and his stomach growls. Kraalkar moves carefully over to the fire and scans the cavern for Arlen. It's time the four of them had a conference and decided what their next step should be. The Walkers' hospitality would last for a time, but it would be best that they be gone before it started to wear thin.

And my quest awaits me in Stone...

[Zimmia]

Daar

Time had no meaning. After the pain of her injuries was ended by her unconsciousness it didn't really seem to matter. Some part of her remembered bring her blade into the belly of Fenris, and then a great crushing weight came down upon her.

In those hours her dreams were scattered and varied, sometimes reliving events from the past days, other times taking her back to her childhood days with her tribe. One persistent vision didn't belong to either of the two. She could plainly see herself, on the slight rise of a rocky hill next to a black-grey boulder and the sky a light green of incoming storm, standing with conflicting emotions as the area before her was consumed by fire. There was a definite satisfaction with strong overtones of innocent life lost. Every time her unconscious tried to investigate the vision further however she immediately lost it and was returned to one which was familiar and comforting.

After more time passed, she came partly awake at the smell of seasoned venison. She could hear the steady breathing of those around her, and could feel the touch of her youngest sister Naalahs' hand on her arm. She groaned lightly as she raised her other hand and laid it on top of Naalah and then fell back asleep, and her dreams continued.

Finally the sounds of the other women of the tribe stirring caught her attention. 'I wish I could lay here longer' she thought somewhat guiltily, but she wouldn't be known as someone not to contribute to daily life of the tribe. The motion of throwing back her fur caught her attention due to the sheer amount of effort required. It was only then that she opened her eyes and the reality of the last several days hit her. She noticed that Elva was beside her, and she could see Kraklaar on the other side of the fire. "We...lived?" she asked in amazement, before she laid her head back down to put her thoughts in order.

[Zed's Dead]

The Walkers are stirring now, eating scraps from last night's meal, gathering equipment, and getting themselves ready for the day. The rock is rolled back from the entrance. Gan is sitting up, his back braced against the wall. He is pale, but well.

Daar and Elva are still injured, but their eyes are bright, and they seem re-invigorated.

The rock has been rolled back from the entrance, and it is obviously morning. If you had to guess, You'd think about an hour after sunrise. About half the Walkers who slept here the night before are still here, but the rest are nowhere to be seen.

Spoiler

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I'm leaving this in, as a place-holder if nothing else, but it will happen about 10:00. The above happens about 7:30ish

The chieftan approaches you when you are awake and assembled.

<I build pyre. We burn Fenris' body now. And head. You light fire?>

You get the sense that there is a ceremony involved. You notice the other Walkers are looking at you expectantly.

[Tura]

Elva

Elva can't remember what it was she'd been dreaming all night long, but she wakes up with a feeling of comfort and warmth. Opening her eyes, she expects to see a starlit sky or the first light of dawn, and stares for a while at the cavern's ceiling, puzzled. And it all comes back.

"Gray?" she calls immediately, leaning on her elbows and moaning as the muscles of her abdomen remind her of her injury. And Gray appears right in front of her, wagging her tail and licking Elva's hand. Relieved to see her elkhound alive and healthy, Elva falls back again, with a smile on her face despite the pain. Well, unless Fenris jumped up to the surface through that hole, it seems that the All-Mother preferred to take him than us. As she looks around the room, she feels Daar stir beside her.

"We...lived?"

"Apparently." she replies weakly, but still smiling. "Against all odds. Aren't life's surprises a blessing?"

With the exhaustion of the past few days thankfully gone, Elva seems to have livened up. She reaches for her backpack, checks to see if her few things are in order, and makes an effort to stand up and inspect the room and the people in the room. She thanks the Walkers next to her for their help, not entirely sure how this came to be. She nods to Arlen and Kraalkar, beaming, and asks: "So what happened last night? And whom should I thank for my life?"

Spoiler

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I'm sorry for not elaborating right now, but before the Chief comes in, Elva will perform a Healing ritual (Cure Minor Wounds): I'm not entirely sure who needs more healing at this point, Kraalkar or Arlen, (I don't know if the character sheets are updated), we'll sort this out OOC.
So, one of them, Daar and Elva heal 11 hit points each. I'll write the fluff later. (In the next post if the conversation continues, or I'll edit this one if we skip to the Chief.

Whenever we get to the Chief's question, checks to understand what he means:
Knowledge (nature) (1d20+10)[21]
Knowledge (anything else, untrained) (1d20)[1]

[harmonictempest]

Arlen

Comforted slightly by his last discovery, Arlen trances dreamlessly and well for the first time in days. Opening his eyes, he is as usual the first stirring by far, which suits him fine. For a moment, he simply stares into space, contemplating yesterday's trials, and the great good fortune that had brought at least some of them here, waking by a friendly fire in safe quarters. Uncrossing his legs, which have grown stiff during the trance, he glances toward the sack next to his pack, half wondering if it would have squirmed away with its strange burden in the night.

As the Walkers around the cave begin stirring up the fire, Arlen spreads his notes on one side and his spellbook on the other, and begins preparing mind and body for the day. First, he composes his mind and offers thanks to Oloriel. For the strength you gave us to fight that which had been twisted from the natural form you gave it. For the spirits of brave comrades, winnowed from the group to leave only the strongest, but missed and grieved nonetheless. For those two who gave their last moments to buy us safety. For these Walkers, offering us space by their fireside. For companions, strong in arm and keen of mind, to stand side by side in time of trial. For the crisp dawn of a new winter's day. And for whatever adventure this day may hold, we offer humble thanks.

He then turns his mind to his book and notes, losing himself in planning, calculation, and preparation for the new day. One at a time, he peruses the runic diagrams of the ancient powers he has discovered and painstakingly recorded over the years. After selecting what will be most useful today, he pushes his mind into each diagram, mentally completing most of each spell: scope, description, name and intent all have a place within each spell's diagram, which had to be completed with utmost care. At the end of each spell, Arlen left the last syllable unspoken, carefully remembering each of the ending syllables so that he could activate any spell later in the day at a moment's notice. Mostly oblivious to the cave coming alive around him, his stomach finally rumbles to remind him of more mundane concerns. He looks up to see his companions stirring. Daar and Elva are understandably confused, but clearly happy to be waking up alive and comfortable.

"So what happened last night? And whom should I thank for my life?"

Arlen smiles quietly (and quite uncharacteristically), and with a wave of his hand and slightly raised eyebrows, he gestures to Kraalkar.
"It's good to see you two awake."

[Zimmia]

Daar

Once she got her mind thorougly around the idea that the giant wolf must have lived, Daar sat up and shook her head while wiggling her fingers and her toes. She felt suprisingly good, and the tiredness which had dogged her steps seemed to be gone. She jumped up and raised her hands above her head and stretched toward the ceiling of the cave. She noticed Walker women watching her and she turned around toward them. Not able to thank them in their own langage, she gives the formal thanks of her tribe; she stands erect and places her right hand on her heart resting the palm of her left hand on her right wrist. She then bows with head and shoulders for a long moment before standing upright and smiling broadly.

She turns next to the fire, and moves quite close to it; close enough in fact that sparks from it probably flicker off her and her amor although she does not make a motion. She crouches on the balls of her feet and stares into the flames. They flicker and play and soon she can see her spirit ancestors in it, reaching out their arms to her proudly. Once she sees them, she loses herself to the Song in her head, the reverence and honor that comes from deep within her. She is quite some time in this reverence and does not seem to even notice the others moving to and from the fire. When she finally stands, she goes to her backpack and pulls out her waterskin and a bit of cloth, wiping the sweat of the fire from her face and walks to join her friends. Her face is almost radiant, the grey-green of her skin flushed with an undertone of pink.

"It appears I may have missed a quite of bit of action last night," she says quietly with the smile that makes those unfamiliar with her kind very nervous. "I am pleased we lost no more of our number. What happened?"

[GeekLord]

Kraalkar

Kraalkar crouches next to the fire. A deer haunch sizzles on a spit. The heat of the flame feels good on his skin. Without flame in this wilderness, a man is lost. He remembers the old woman, Meg, calling flame into existence to singe and scorch the wolves. The Son of Wulocha's seared torso had borne witness to her power. Was she like me? Or...something else? Could I do what she did? The fire dances before him. Its flickering flames are strangely compelling, and Kraalkar's hand reaches toward the fire. Then he realizes what he's doing and drops his hand to a stick. He pokes the coals with a scowl. Are you afraid, Kraalkar? The voice whispers drily in his skull. If you had that power, Uluia might still be alive. Imbrus might still be alive. You could have saved them...instead of abandoning them. He sees Uluia again, empty eyes staring accusingly at him. Ruthlessly, Kraalkar walls off the voice. I did what I had to do! They were not strong enough! he snarls, then grimaces and drops the stick. Fool. The last thing you need is for these others to realize you're crazy.

With his belt knife, Kraalkar hacks a piece of meat from the haunch and juggles it from hand to hand, blowing to cool it down before biting into it. He wipes the hot grease from his chin with his forearm, then glances up and notices Daar staring into the flame with the same rapt expression he has seen before on the face of his clan's shinja. He knows better than to disturb her when she looks like that. Kraalkar stands up again with a wince, and moves back to his furs. He finishes the meat, then bends and picks up his armor and sword. Blood stains the metal links of the chain shirt, and the blade is nicked and dirty. It would normally take some effort to clean his gear, but...

Kraalkar whispers a quiet word and snaps his fingers, feeling the energy settle around him in quiet anticipation. Slinging the sword across his back, he moves back toward Arlen and Elva, stopping at the fire to cut another hunk of meat from the deer haunch.