Karathos perks up his ears.
The unicorn whinnies, stamping his hooves.
He addresses Meela in the Sylvan tongue,
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''I heard someone shouting inside the Mound. I could not understand the words, but the voice sounded frightened. It sounded like a human or elf female, not a lizardman.''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Bennedict stands, muttering the words of a Sanctuary spell as he does so.
"When in Darkon, do as the Darkons do," he mutters to himself as he steps forward, hands out and clearly open outside of his walking stick.
"We are friends," he responds, "We have travelled far on a mission. We thought, perhaps, your tribe could point us in the right direction. We seek the great creature who attacks the boats on the river. We would seek to know what we have done to offend it, and what we can do to see that the attacks cease."
"Of course," Benn mutters, "It would be a damned shame if we ever knew what the hell was actually going on."
A loud hiss noise followed by speech in Draconic comes from the Mound,
''Come in. Inside. Talk. Friends...''
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Klokulf looks over at Bennedict and the others, his eyes a bit wide. "That sounded bigger than a lizard-man."
He pulls a scrap of parchment from his clothes, and it evaporates as he prays for protection. "I am not sure that turning back would be any better than going forward now."
Meela dismounted Karathos. "Many thanks, old friend." She said.
Closing the distance between Benedict and Klokus. The young woman lets the men know that Karathos' keen ears had picked up the sound of a woman screaming for help somewhere within the mound.
"Definitely not lizard folk. Human or elf, most like." The ranger added, drawing her sword.
RocEter wrote:If Clive is informed that there is some in danger at the camp, he will charge in to slay the beasts!
Sir Clive frowns at the ranger-lady's warning, but says nothing.
The executioner-knight strides swiftly around the lakeshore, breaking into a clanking run as he nears the entrance to The Mound.
He unsheathes his huge sword and hacks the wicker doorframe to splinters in one heavy blow. Then he disappears into the fire-lit oval.
Tonio, jogging behind the knight, shouts "Thargate! Thargate!" and then the dark-haired blacksmith's 'prentice leaps through the open doorway after his master.
Last edited by ewancummins on Wed Feb 19, 2020 10:30 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Firelight glows luridly on a scene of confusion and carnage. Sir Clive stands halfway between the blazing central firepit and the broken door.
Dead and maimed lizardmen make a bloody circle about the armored warrior.
Tonio duels an uninjured man-lizard near the entrance, fighting his way toward Sir Clive.
On the right side of the big chamber, near another doorway, a half-dozen lizardmen pause in their work of dragging a big net that holds a struggling human woman.
Across the flames and smoke of the firepit in the center of the Mound, three lizardman musicians change their playing, two pounding a furious alarm on alligator hide drums and a third blasting harsh notes on a long wooden pipe.
The rest of the party arrives in time to see more of the reptiles emerging from doorways or crawling out from the flickering shadows...
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.
Adam wrote:
And with that (and a visible gulp) Bennedict walks slowly forward, still keeping his hands in plain sight.
Raen frowns but follows the Archivist when he stands.
Once the knight breaks into a run and starts the bloody work, Raen, not really impressed or surprised picks up speed to follow. When Tonio of all people is the first to dive after his master, Raen made an attempt to run towards him and intercept him from diving headfirst into danger when he was not adventurer but of course, he was too far, and too late. Unlike the "negotiations" if they ever were that, turning to combat, the action of the slave really surprised him.
"You truly see what a person is made of, when you begin to slice into them" - Semirhage
"I am not mad, no matter what you're implying." - Litalia My DMGuild work!
"Oi!" the woman shouts as she struggles free of the net and notices the incoming murderhobos adventurers. "HELP ME! They got me and another poor sod off the boat after it sank!"
SIR CLIVE thunders toward Tonio, chopping down the lizardman his servant has engaged in combat and stepping over the corpse even as it falls.
He reaches the woman crawling out from under the net, bloody sword raised to battle her captors.
Splashing noises...
Before the knight closes the distance the six lizardmen scramble back, hissing, headed for the hallway they used to enter the central chamber.
Someone shouts.
Too late! Sir Clive feels stinging pain on the left side of his face as a great gout of amber-hued liquid blasts past him, catching him in its edge.
The stuff dissolves a weapons rack on the far wall!
Spinning round, Sir Clive sees the black shape swaying over the turbulent pool that fills a curved recess along the lakeward wall.
Great yellow eyes blaze in the firelight. Venom drips from the dragon's dagger-lined maw, sizzling at it spills into the water.
The dark water hides everything below a man's height of serpentine neck, armored as thickly in black scales as the monster's horned, skull-like head.
Delight is to him- a far, far upward, and inward delight- who against the proud gods and commodores of this earth, ever stands forth his own inexorable self.