Return through the Swamp: Night of April 10th

[Pamela]

Gertrude nearly reached for the pistol as she saw the waters rise beside her, but relaxed at Draxton’s words. She yanked the body closer, and between the two of them, Gerard was now fully out of the waters. She squinted her eyes in the darkness, and a hand lightly reached over to touch the grievous injuries as if to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the light (or rather, its lack).

“May your soul rest and rise anew,” she murmured absent-mindedly in Zherisian. She then spoke clearly in Mordentish to whatever colleagues were listening, “I think he’s dead…”

Nonetheless, she leaned forward and lay her hand against his neck, seeing if she could pick up any pulse. Blessed sun, even if he were alive, would we be able to keep him so?

[Rotipher of the FoS]

Though The Ballad of Nunieve plays on, the VRS spy splits his attention, anxiously glancing from the murky, battle-roiled waters to the supine, still form of Gerard. The fingers of his left hand twitch anxiously against the lantern's handle, itching to pantomime the Halan healer's tune he favors for curative castings. Still, if the unlucky boatman has passed beyond all help, maintaining the flow of invigorating rhythm to Dadrag may at least facilitate his aquatic killer's defeat.

Crow steps back slightly from the water's edge, in imitation of Kingsley's prudence -- All too right, Madam: the beast may not be alone -- and looks to her reaction as she checks the rescued man for a pulse. Fighting is Dadrag's trade of choice, and the bodyguard's present infusion of vitality will last for several more seconds if its accompaniment lapses; Gerard is an innocent civilian, and even a single second's delay might invite tragedy ... if the boatman lives.

For the bard, it's not even a choice.


OOC: Don't worry, VAN, Inspire Greatness will last another five rounds if Crow stops playing to heal Gerard. By then, Hiro and Buchvold should be well into the fight.

[alhoon]

Not caring at all for Gerald as a life, but about him as the means that would take them out of the swamp, Draxton steps back worried looking how the battle in the water is progressing and what the others do to save their guide.

[Nathan of the FoS]

OOC: If there are no further actions...VAN vs. the Creature again!

VAN, you must be living right. The Creature gets a one, and you've broken the grapple. MM, the problem with magic missile is that you can't see the creature...AFAIK that prevents you from targeting it with this spell, since it's not area-effect.

IC: With a final twist, Dadrag gets a purchase against the creature and breaks its grip; freeing himself, he comes to the surface and inhales. The roiling water quickly calms, and those of the group with attention to spare scan the surface for any sign of the creature's presence...

OOC: Spot checks! 24 hour deadline.

[Moral Machivelli]

OOC http://www.coyotecode.net/roll/lookup.php?rollid=2286

5. I'm guessing that's not much.

And not much point in MM now, as the Holy water must have been thrown out all over the place. Buchvold's still on the surface? (I never orderd him in.)

[alhoon]

Draxton looks for any sign of the creature but he can't focus very well from his place distracted as he is by Gerald's presence.

OOC> total 12

[Rotipher of the FoS]

Turning from Kingsley's uncertain features -- not as encouraging as relief, but at least the Zherisian's expression is not decisively one of grief -- Crow takes a last look over the water, spots Dadrag's head breaching the surface with a gasp. He sounds one last encouraging note upon his harmonica, to freshen the bodyguard's vigor, then lowers the instrument from his lips. Best I can do for you, Darkonian: with any luck, you'll be safely ashore before the effect is spent. Let's hope your wit is as sharp as your eyes, to get clear while you can!

He doesn't wait to finish his mental well-wish to Dadrag before he moves, however, nor watch the water to see what follows. Pocketing his mouth-organ, the VRS spy hastens to kneel at Gerard's side, heedless of muddy trouser knees, and holds the lantern above the sodden figure. Seeing no blatantly-fatal injuries, and sorely hoping his efforts will not be in vain, he presses his palm to the boatman's still chest, taps his fingers against the dark skin as if upon a fretboard, and intones a few wordless notes the Professor might recognize from their breakfast tête-à-tête at the Riverview Rest.

For the moment, the bard has no eyes for anything but Gerard's wounds, as he wills them to close as proof his efforts weren't too late. He keeps an ear cocked, alert for the swamp-creature's splashes, but trusts both Kingsley and Serd to keep watch over the water for the moment.


[OOC: It seems to be a day for low rolls (Spot roll 6, here), so I figure Crow didn't even bother to look. He'll use Listen to make sure he's not surprised if the critter comes ashore, though.

[Cure light on Gerard ... hopefully, enough to revive the poor guy. Everybody cross your fingers that we still have a pilot, okay? ]

[Nathan of the FoS]

Turning from Kingsley's uncertain features -- not as encouraging as relief, but at least the Zherisian's expression is not decisively one of grief -- Crow takes a last look over the water, spots Dadrag's head breaching the surface with a gasp. He sounds one last encouraging note upon his harmonica, to freshen the bodyguard's vigor, then lowers the instrument from his lips. Best I can do for you, Darkonian: with any luck, you'll be safely ashore before the effect is spent. Let's hope your wit is as sharp as your eyes, to get clear while you can!

He doesn't wait to finish his mental well-wish to Dadrag before he moves, however, nor watch the water to see what follows. Pocketing his mouth-organ, the VRS spy hastens to kneel at Gerard's side, heedless of muddy trouser knees, and holds the lantern above the sodden figure. Seeing no blatantly-fatal injuries, and sorely hoping his efforts will not be in vain, he presses his palm to the boatman's still chest, taps his fingers against the dark skin as if upon a fretboard, and intones a few wordless notes the Professor might recognize from their breakfast tête-à-tête at the Riverview Rest.

For the moment, the bard has no eyes for anything but Gerard's wounds, as he wills them to close as proof his efforts weren't too late. He keeps an ear cocked, alert for the swamp-creature's splashes, but trusts both Kingsley and Serd to keep watch over the water for the moment.


[OOC: It seems to be a day for low rolls (Spot roll 6, here), so I figure Crow didn't even bother to look. He'll use Listen to make sure he's not surprised if the critter comes ashore, though.

[Cure light on Gerard ... hopefully, enough to revive the poor guy. Everybody cross your fingers that we still have a pilot, okay? ]

The water is still, marked only by the patter of the falling raindrops; no-one on shore* can see where their attacker might have gone. As Crow's healing magic goes into effect Gerard coughs heavily and retches, spewing out a fair amount of river water. Crow can now detect a pulse, faint and light, at the swamp-fisher's neck.

*Unless VAN or Hiro spots it before the time limit expires (about 12 hours now), you've lost track of the critter.

[VAN]

OOC> Oh yes it's the day of low rolls! I gor 8 but fortunately has +10 spot, so 18!

IC> Dadrag gets a deep breath as finally gets his head out of the water. Always with weapons at hands and looking carefully around he goes towards the land.

[Pamela]

Gertrude’s attention was divided between the water, Crow’s approach and familiar spell-song, and Gerard’s resuscitation. “Thank the blessed sun,” she murmured in Zherisian, smiling slightly, before turning to the bard. “You should reconsider that particular tune. It seems to encourage spluttering…” She made a slight moue as the Souragnien’s retching stained her dress, but shrugged. I must remember to send my laundry bill to Brother Roeccha when we return from this little exploit…

She saw that Draxton’s henchman had finally surfaced, and turned her attention to the others. All were present, and Roland was still with the boat. “V’lez aide avec ça? V'nez ici," she called out to the young noble, worried that whatever had attacked them might go after him next.

*Do you want help with that? Come here...

[Nathan of the FoS]

As the group clusters around the fallen swamp-fisher and Roland pushes the punt to shore, lightning again flashes to the west. The light and sound of rolling thunder drown out all other sensations for a moment, but suddenly there is a small feathered dart quivering in the thwart of the punt. Feeling a tug at her arm, Gertrude reaches instinctively to the place and finds another dart lodged in the sleeve of her dress; a third strikes against the metal top of the lantern and ricochets into the mud.

[Pamela]

Gertrude startled at the thunder; this simple act worked unconsciously in her favour. When she saw the dart in her sleeve, she looked up into the darkness, trying to figure out the location of their attacker from the angle the three objects were coming. “Darts!” she called out, and hesitated, wondering whether she dared to turn invisible with Roland so close, or risk injury. What if it’s poisoned…?

This thought nearly caused her to cast the spell then and there. She reined herself in, and instead raised Crow’s guitar case before herself as she then raised the pistol up. “Blow out the lantern- we’re giving them a good view of our location while blinding ourselves!” When it’s dark, I can also take the chance…

She lowered her voice to Crow and Serd, who were the nearest to her. "Can either of you create any form of light in that direction...? If not, I suggest that we consider our rings or some similar hiding trick to give ourselves a chance to regroup..."

[VAN]

Dadrag finally manages to get out of the water with his weapons at both hands. Then ducks and getting cover behind a tree looks carefully around in order to see who attack them.

[alhoon]

Not replying to the Zherisian woman to not betray his position, Draxton snuffed the light of the latern and took cover behind a tree.

[Nathan of the FoS]

Dadrag finally manages to get out of the water with his weapons at both hands. Then ducks and getting cover behind a tree looks carefully around in order to see who attack them.

At the very edge of his magically enhanced vision Dadrag sees a pair of small reptilian figures lower their blowguns and begin to move closer to the group clustered on the shore. He has seen their ilke before, of course; only yesterday he and Tarlyn killed their fellows on the road from the swamp...