Tales of Misadventure [Isle of Woe]

[Murometz]

He found it in short order. Nearby, nearly buried in the brush was what could only be described as the rotting corpse of a man (?). The jungle climate was not kind to rotting meat, and the scene was truly disgusting. The body, or what was left of it, was literally liquefying in the heat and humidity. More of those huge dragonflies, were crawling and hovering over the nearly bubbling mass, and even more terrible-looking insects as well, were either feasting, burrowing, or laying eggs. The stench was nauseating, but slightly less so for a half-orc.

[Shadoweagle]

"Oourgh," Somnak gurgled, "What devil-infested island IS this!?"
The half-orc kicked a massive beetle away and then knelt down next to the corpse. Steeling himself, he began searching the body for clues as to its demise, and also for anything useful on its person.

[Chaosmark]

The priest didn't appear to be struggling, but that wasn't any guarantee that he wasn't some sort of mindslave. The old tales were replete with examples of those snared by mere sight of fel creatures. Intention solidifying, the thief made his decision and loosed the arrow he held ready against the sea-demon.

[Murometz]

The features of the liquefying corpse were impossible to gauge. Not much could be gleaned from what was left of the body either, except for the suddenly obvious (as Somnak got closer) signs of dismemberment. Two stumpy, putrefying limbs, immediately next to the corpse, could only be the dead man’s arms, Somnak realized.

As far as any possessions or objects, there was only one, and Somnak had to flick it off the bubbling mass with a stick, in order to avoid sticking his hand into the charnel remains. A simple rope necklace, with a perfectly round little wooden ball at the end of it. Some letters were scratched into its surface, which Somnak did not recognize as those of the Common Tongue.

---

Seconds before the Leviathan-Eye and Rasmus the Willow descended into the sea, Lumori’s set loose his arrow, and it sailed past floating eye. The creature did not even seem to notice the missile. Lumori frowned, he remembered his greatest shot had also been at a hundred feet, when he nailed a conniving ex-partner in the throat, as the man tried to escape with Lumori’s half of the stolen loot…

---

From his spot in the jungle, Thorgir was about ready to scream with berserker rage, as the ants continued to crawl all over his body, making him itch all over. Was he sitting in a d**n ant’s nest? Thorgir hated this place…

[valadaar]

As soon as the creature had dropped below the waves, Thorgir ran like man possessed and dove into the water to shake off the ants...

[Shadoweagle]

Somnak studied the necklace closely; he had no idea what those letters were. He offhandedly wondered if the others would know what they were, and then abruptly realized he was very alone in this jungle with a disgusting corpse.

Somnak decided he would trace his steps back, slowly but carefully; the company of the temperamental red-haired man and the sniveling thief was better than no company at all in this forsaken island!

After rubbing the necklace on the ground to remove as much gore as possible, he slipped the necklace over his head and began his journey. Somnak would have called out, except he was worried about attracting unwanted attention.

[Murometz]

Somnak managed to successfully backtrack to the beach, where for a moment he noticed what seemed like another "sea-demon" rising from the depths. But this time, it was merely Thorgir, emerging from the salty froth for some unknown reason. The barbarian looked perturbed, yet somehow relieved. Effortlessly sliding down the palm tree he had previously climbed, Lumori soon joined the other two on the sands.

And there they were, the three of them, alone on this desolate beach. A pale, gibbous moon emerged on the horizon, as night set in, shrouding the trio  in near darkness.

This was not the way most "great adventures" began, they noted silently to themselves in turn. Oh and their remaining rations were almost gone now as well, Somnak noted, as he fingered the last of the hard tack and salt pork in his waterproof pouch.

[Chaosmark]

"Well that was d**ned odd. I vote we camp at the forest edge for the night and try to find some settlement tomorrow. Or at least something we can eat."

[Murometz]

Somewhat earlier, somewhere offshore...

“I have no interest in your words! You are evil, and I am unafraid of you, Khaum’s light will---“

“Fool human, how much longer do you think your spell-scroll will last?” the voice sounded like giant seashells rubbing against each other, and it spoke the Common Tongue with bizarre inflections. “I offer your life and more…Your drowned treasure is safe in my lair the mermen cannot get to it, nor has it suffered—“

“What is this of which you speak demon-spawn? And what is it you want? I have come to these shores to rid the inhabitants of their pagan ways, and show them the light of Khaum, I---”
“I want my egg-kin, Yinsoso, dead”, it growled, its eye unblinking. This is my domain and he vexes me with his presence. Slay him for me with your companions, and I shall reward you.”

“And I suppose the reason I am not yet dead is that you cannot defeat him yourself?”

The Cthonic-Leviathan moaned and gyrated in place, its great central eye turning blood red, then black, then purplish…

“Do not test me, pink-fleshed one. Your demise is assured if you do not do what I command you.”

‘And what makes you think that I can---“

“With your pink-fleshed companions, no doubt blood-thirsty mercenaries all, and my guidance, perhaps you can succeed, where other minio—groups—have failed.”

[Murometz]

Two hours ago, on the opposite side of the island…

She had not eaten in two days. Hatred fed her instead.

Nourishment from her god pumped directly into her heart, as she paced up from the beach, and without hesitation plunged through the dark foliage of the jungle.
The two sailors who had rowed her ashore did so in silence, and avoided her gaze at all costs. As soon as her boot touched down in the surf, they began to enthusiastically row back to their ship.

Her shroud and cowl flapped in the sea-breeze as she strode. The symbol of her god Atarkuhl, a single dark-gray iron spike, facing upwards, and dripping eight crimson tears of blood, was etched on the back of her cape. Her countenance was as grim as her wardrobe.

If she had any way of knowing perhaps--that almost at that exact same moment, on almost the exact opposite side of this nameless ninety-mile island, another priest, of a quite different god, also disembarked upon a beach, intent upon his mission--she would have smiled at the irony.

After some time fighting her way through the unrelenting vines and other weird flora, she came upon a small clearing in the jungle, and finally paused to rest. It was getting dark now, especially here, where the canopy blocked out the setting sun.

The Jungle was still hot, despite night falling. A thousand sounds, some familiar or identifiable, many alien, assaulted her ears.

[valadaar]

"Perhaps we should move down the beach a ways, I don't know if I want to sleep anywhere near where that _thing_ came out.  Did you see any water inland?" he said to the half-orc.
He wasn't overly perturbed about the food - the island appeared to host creatures so he was not worried.   Water was a bigger deal.
 


http://www.wildwoodsurvival.com/survival/fire/bowdrill/pmoc/basicbowdrill.html

[Shadoweagle]

"For once Lumori and I agree! We should set up camp and stop to think!" Somnak nodded in agreement with Thorgir's suggestion of moving down the beach. "I found no streams or pools to speak of; there was a corpse though; it reeked and looked like it's arms had been wrenched off! I found this necklace, too - anyone recognise these letters?" Somnak held the wooden pendant up for his two companions to see.


Not long later, a small fire was crackling and the last of Somnak's meagre rations were being shared. The half-orc was sitting, his legs wrapped around his hand-painted tribal drum as he beat on it, defying the silence of the night as if daring the darkness to send its servants to investigate. The noise echoed hollowly through the dark.
To ward off the evil spirits, he had told his companions, leaving no room for negotiation. Somnak did not chant, nor did he speak as he played his instrument. Instead, he merely stared at the rising smoke; the ethereal wisps appearing to twist and writhe in an otherworldly dance to the rhythm which permeated the night air.

Somnak thought of his past: of his bretheren - his tribe, long since lost; of his home, destroyed. And now, he has come to this. Lost on a cursed island with two strangers.

The drum beat sounded hollow in his ears. He felt the spirits within were not with him this night. The fire of the Demon's Dance was far away.

... Gods he wanted a smoke right now.

[Siren no Orakio]

As she stepped into the clearing, Brin considered it carefully, her blood-red eyes glinting in the moonlight as she cast about for signs of malice. It would have to do, she expected. And so, she lifted her hands, and drew back the cowl from her face, revealing her impossibly dark skin and short-cropped silvery hair. It wouldn't do to have it falling in her face as she set up her camp, after all.

The brief mundanity of pitching a small tent accomplished, the woman nodded to her self, and carefully paced a circle around the tent, marking it off in her mind as she did so, before retreating to its entrance. Gripping her holy symbol tightly, she held it forth, even as it cut shallowly into her hand, drawing her own blood into the symbol. Holding it into the air, she prayed quietly, as the blood turned to a fine red mist, hovering in the air about her. (Casting: Lurking Malice) It would protect her through the night - not against many, certainly, but it would provide an alarm and perhaps even strike down an attacker. Settling in, she drew out a small, well worn book, and began to thumb through it, centering herself and meditating in prayer to her Lord, asking Him once more to make her into His vengeance incarnate.

[caesar193]

Melior was far, far too important and smart to be on some thrice-d***ed beach on some gods-forsaken spit of land in the middle of the ocean. Naturally, he was worthy of being carried along while reclining on a sedan chair, but unless some natives came bursting out of the trees, that was one thing unlikely to happen. Of course, he did gaze quickly at the tree line to make sure it was just a passing fantasy, but was forced to go back to walking.

He looked over his shoulder at the spot where the boat had scraped the sands and he had been... forcibly removed. D*** those sailors! Did they not realize what a mistake they'd made? He'd get them eventually...

It was all because of those mermen, really. The sailors he had booked passage with had wanted to go help that other ship, and he refused. The other ship was simply not worth his precious, precious time. The resulting argument had given the ship time to sink into the water. The captain then decided that he was somehow superior to Melior. The nerve! And then Captain... now, what was his name? Sithner, Sillmer, Tillmer... Ah, it wasn't worth straining his memory anyway. Then the captain had the audacity to maroon him on this island.

And so he walked. Like a peasant. Walked these sands in some general direction, hoping for contact from anyone, really. Preferably someone with an brain on his shoulders.

[Murometz]

Brin

“^{KECH-KE-KE-KE-kech-kech-k}ech-kech-kech-kech-kech-kech-ke-ke-ke-kech-Kech-Keck-Kech-KEEEEEEE-kech-kech-^{KECH-KE-KE-KE-kech-Kech-kech-kech-kech-kech-kechKech-ke-ke-ke-kech-Kech-Keck}-Kech-KEEEEEE-kech-kech…”

That sound dominated all other night sounds in the jungle, as Brin listened half-asleep. At one point, her ritual magic detected a malignant presence. She rose preparing, but then the danger seemed to dissipate. She waited, and later, finally slept. In the morning, the sweat inside her aurochs hide armor woke her up with an itch.

[Murometz]

Melior

He was so lost in his own superior thoughts, that he almost failed to hear the obvious...

Somewhere close by, he quickly ascertained, some mindless savage-savant was playing the most breathtakingly haunting drum beat Melior had ever heard before. Like low thunder, the beat spoke of loss, anguish, and unbidden memories. Haunting, and yet inviting and infectious.

He glanced ahead and could now make out three shapes between the light of the moon and the shadows cast by their make-shift fire.

For some reason he smelled the whiff of orc.

Thorgir, Lumori, Somnak

Thorgir noticed the slim figure wandering the beach immediately. He tensed, but as the figure came closer into the fire-light the barbarian could tell it was only a mere, spindly elf. Clearly, he posed them no immediate threat.

[valadaar]

Little could surprise the barbarian at this point.

"Come, join our fire," he said to the elf, poking the fire with a long stick and sending a cloud of sparks into the air.  "Were you on that cursed ship as well? "

[Shadoweagle]

Somnak's vision grew focused as Thorgir spoke and he turned to peer at the newcomer. His drumming never missed a beat as he snorted, "For a deserted island this place sure has a lot of people." His lips curled up as he realized the man was of elven lineage. Thorgir had nothing against elves, personally, but the tales of his tribesfolk painted the image of as elf as a pompous lot who held themselves in too high regard. Hopefully this one could prove his bretheren wrong!

[Siren no Orakio]

The morning's rituals were simple. A brief prayer to her Lord, asking for guidance and protection, and she stood, breaking down the tiny tent into her pack, shouldering it.  For a moment, she cast a rueful glance about the clearing, wishing the jungle was dry enough for her to simply burn this loathesome island to the ground, and pick amongst the ashes for anything left that her Lord and Master wanted.  But no - it probably wouldn't catch, and it might well burn her too.

Rather, all she could do was cock her head, and try to listen for the source of that sound. Chances are it was important, and she'd like to find out if it was a threat, or something else before continuing her mission.

[caesar193]

Melior decided that they were worthy of his company. They had fire, and they could very well make themselves useful as bodyguards.

"I was on a ship. Not the one you three were on, though," replied the elf, glancing at the half-orc drummer. "And I am not here by choice. The ship I had negotiated passage on decided that they no longer valued my company. This island happened to be nearby at that time."

[valadaar]

"These seas seem busy, fine waters to seek plunder it would seem, if you don't mind the fish-men and other things of the deep.
Why'd they maroon you? Seems they were angry enough not to just plop you in the drink."

Perhaps his hood fell off, and the crew saw they had an elf on-board, and not some effeminate dandy, thought Thorgir.

Thorgir barely took his eyes from the fire, still prodding it with the stick. He grimaced. It would need a log or two soon, especially they were to sleep any time soon.

[caesar193]

Melior looked at his companions, and decided that they had a decent chance of originating from the ship he was against helping. Logic resulted in knowing that it would probably be better to have some allies, and that they would not be accepting his company if they possessed such a reason.

"Oh, the captain and I had a disagreement. And as he had a ship full of crewman to make his wants occur, and since I had paid him in advance, he decided that since he wasn't getting his way in our intellectual debate, the suitable course of action is dumping me on this insignificant flea-speck of an island."

Melior moved closer to the fire, so the shadowy, flickering light danced over his countenance.

"Or... Is it? I believe I read somewhere in my youth that this island, part of the Shattered Archipelago, is not as insignificant as its mere 90 by 14 mile perimeter would claim. You see, a century ago, the greatest explorer of the age, Francisco Dreillilllidor, set out to these here island, after escaping the mad Troll-Lord Hothen with a detailed topographic map of the area and a chest full of loot.

"Francisco mapped numerous islands in detail before coming to this one. His crew saw his return when he was screaming and running in terror from threats that weren't there. He was driven mad by the experience. Of course, he was gibbering about a fantastic treasure, heaps of gold and jewels, beyond anyone's wildest imaginations."

He paused, and glanced at Lumori. "Perhaps not beyond yours, though, pickpocket. Your kinds' dream far too much of other people's wealth as it is; I shouldn't be encouraging you now."

"But where was I? Ah yes, heals of gold. You three, well, us four, are all all ready stranded on this island anyway. We might as well get filthy rich while we wait for rescue, eh? And who knows? I might chance upon some magic that might allow us freedom from this sandy prison."

[Shadoweagle]

Somnak slowed his drumming to a halt and considered, watching the elf. "Gold and jewels, you say?" he turned his head to peer into the jungle, "perhaps it would not hurt to take a quick look... Though we do not want to risk angering the spirits of this isle any further. I am not doing back in there at night, however; we should rest!"

Somnak had one more thought and raised the necklace he had found for Melior to study it. "Elf, you seem well-learned. Do you recognise the symbols on this?"

[valadaar]

Thorgir's face visibly brightened at the prospect of gold, no matter how unspendable.  He would rather chance the creatures of the land then those of the sea any day.

"I'm with Somnak here. Tomorrow we find your heaps of gold, Elf."

[caesar193]

Melior examined the necklace thoroughly.

"And where did you find this?" He asked. Perhaps his answer would not be throughly mangle by those tusks.

"I don't recognize the symbols: though there is a chance of it being magical. A simple spell shall determine this."

He flipped open his spellbook. Examining his neat and orderly table of contents, he quickly found the spell "identify."

Melior, after reading the requirements, put the necklace around his neck and cast the spell.

I burn my burning hands for identify.