A Stitch in Souragne - La Danse de Mort

[steveflam]

Goren mumbles "Well, here goes nothing......." and enters the water slowly, mace in his hands. He moves towards Vincent and the three foes.

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Vincent's blade strikes true, just an instant before Zumba's bullet cracks Authentès in the back of the skull. The Drowling snarls, bearing teeth that now appear a lot more pointy than they were before. Just as Authent1es draws back a claw to slash at Vincent again, Lucien's icy barrier springs up between her and her prey. Both Authentès and the Drownling named Koroshiya recoil, hissing and growling like angry beasts.

Authentès throws back her head and screams, her voice loud and clear and far too mature for her frame: "Hell's blood!" Blood runs down the Drownling's face as she whirls about in the water, eyes full of demented hate flashing from Vincent to the people on shore... and back to Vincent. "I am going to eat your liver," she growls, "while you watch!"

Koroshiya and the raw-voiced sister are moving, Koroshiya moving around the wall, when... something... happens.

None of you had been watching the rest of the swamp during this confrontation. To be fair, neither were the Drownlings. None of you had seen the deceptively lazy ripple, which approached on a straight line from the depths of the bog. The screaming, bleeding Authentès did not even see it before the ripple ended at a stone's throw away from her unprotected back.
Suddenly, she just shoots down into the water. Vincent is in a prime position to see her stunned expression before she submerges completely. He can also see the dark stain that soon rises to the surface: blood. Little bits of flesh and fragments of bone soon bob to the surface as well.
None of you is quite sure when the other two Drownlings left, but leave they did. Now it's just Vincent in the bog... with whatever dealt with Authentès and scared away her sisters just now.

(OOC: Believe it or not, there is method to my madness. Back to you guys.)

[Ail]

OOC: Does Zumba know of any myth about a swamp monster? That looked surprisingly like a tentacle.

Zumba runs to the swamp throwing a rope in Vincent's direction.


"GRAB!"

he cries, hoping to pull the man to him more quickly than he can walk.

[steveflam]

Awkwardly, Goren moves over to where Zumba is. Souragnien "Had you seeing that? We hurrying. What eated that could eating us!" He lends a hand to Zumba to retrieve Vincent.

[Ken of Ghastria]

Lucien prepares his crossbow, ready to fire should the ... whatever it was reappear to threaten Vincent. "Hurry, get out of there," he calls out. I am sure that the thought already occurred to Vincent. Just be alert, would you?

[Guzrath]

Vincent almost cheers when he succesfully hit the child and he is surprised as her head jerks from some impact. He then sees the others on the shore.
As he the child shows her sharp teeth his adrenaline is pumping with excitement and he gets ready for the next assault when she is suddenly pulled under. Vincent raises an eyebrow in surprise. He doubts whether she in turn is trying to trick him and he is on his guard. When pieces of flesh and bone come surfacing up he backs up in reflex.
He looks around looking for the threat and notices he is alone in the mucky swampwater. A splash nearby makes him turn again. The rope. He sheaths his dagger and grabs the rope with his left hand, keeping his rapier in his right hand in case "it" decides to taste his flesh as well.

"PULL!!" he yells.

"This muck does not make it easy to swim, my dear Lucien" he yells back.

He is pulled across the water, trying to keep his head above the swampwater and staying ready for a next attack. "Stupid, stupid, stupid" he thinks. "Lesson not learned, but damned exciting". He smiles.

[Ail]

Zumba pulls the rope as strongly and fast as he can.

OOC: Do I need a roll?

[Rock of the Fraternity]

(OOC: No rolls required at this time.)

Between Zumba's pulling and Vincent's own efforts to get out, it is the work of but a moment to get him out of the bog. Covered in slime and bits of sparkling rot, he staggers onto shore, to be back amongst you once more. However, Vincent is not the only thing coming to land.

That same lazy ripple that snuck up on Authentès has appearaed again. If Vincent is rushing out to land, the ripple is idling, taking its sweet time. But the closer it comes, the bigger it gets. Rather than chase directly after Vincent, it takes up a parallel course, so it hits land about ten feet away from you all.

Zumba is the first to recognize the thing for what it is once its back breaks the surface. The others may first be fooled into believing some kind of weirdly animated log has been the architect of the Drownlings' death and flight. But as the creature enters more shallow water and comes on, you all realize that this is no dead tree. It's an alligator easily the size of an average tree.

As the behemoth pulls itself onto land, you can see something horrible; Authentès' arm, hanging from the corner of the creature's mouth. A stench of rot suddenly assails your nostrils when the crocodile ponderously turns its head to look at you all -- if it can see at all. The crocodile's eye-sockets are empty, filled with the foxfire of decay instead of living orbs. Here and there its scales have fallen away, and you can see naked bone working beneath -- or through -- layers of rotting flesh.
This animal has been dead for some time, and yet it is moving.

The crocodile stiffly kicks its hind legs, sending up jets of sand as if it were a live crocodile, digging itself into the bank for a nap in the sun. Then it opens its jaws wide and gags. It heaves its throat once, twice, sending clouds of noxious stench your way. On the third gag, it ejects a jet of black goo, which spills onto the sand in front of your feet. In the bile, you see Authentès' head, the Drownling's eyes wide with the terror that gripped her before her grim demise -- and the carcass of a chicken, its bones picked clean. Bits of red and black thread have been tied to its hind legs, and a root has been shoved through its eye-sockets.

The undead animal closes its jaws, produces an eerie sound that is half a crocodile's rumbling and half the moaning of the undead. It averts its massive skull and starts to turn around, heading back for the swamp. Unless any of you try to stop it, the creature soon submerges itself in the muck once again.

[Guzrath]

Vincent quickly climbs out of the water covered in muck. A dissapointing "aoohhh" follows as he looks down to his muck covered clothing "damn this swamp". He quickly turns to the shore and draws his dagger as the rotting crocodile comes to shore. Seeing that the it is not aggressive towards them he relaxes a bit. He looks in disgust at the head and the chicken it spews out.

"Well" he says looking at the crocodile moving back into the swamp.

"Thank you for the your help all" he says and walks up to Zumba arms open to give the man a muck covered hug.

[Ail]

Zumba recognized the crocodile quickly, the characteristic ripple in the water was unmistakeable. What he surely wasn't expecting was the particular nature of this crocodile. Given the circumstances, he was all too relieved when it didn't show any interest towards the party.

Looking at Vincent safe on the shore, he gave thanks to the Maiden that they were all together again, but he was shocked when the man lost all his earlier pose and came to hug him in earnest gratitude. Zumba was dumbfounded with surprise, but returned the hug and said


"The swamp is dangerous... and not a good place for a bath. Even if you're dry and dying for one, I wouldn't recommend it, or you may find your wish a lot more than just figurative."


But he smiles as he says this. It's as if a cold barrier had been broken between him and the noble... but only the next days would tell.

Looking again at the remains the alligator ejected on the shore, he notices the strange chicken. Touching it with his quarterstaff, he says grimly.


"Gris-gris... foul, foul one. But might tell us something about who is casting horrid spells in the swamp. I bet some voodan might be able to tell us more."


Reluctantly, he examines it at staff length, pondering whether he should take it and pack it.

[steveflam]

Goren is happy that Vincent is out of harms way. Souragnien"That was big undead reptile crocodile. Bad bad magic. Someone make that monstrousity. Zumba, by gris gris does you meaning a spell? The chicken being the component of the spell? But was undead here to help us? That odd coincidence, no? These three almost killing Vincent and then big monster eat them. Two coincidences I thinking. We need to see this Chicken man bone."

He scratches his beard and looks back at the swamp, then back forward. SouragnienWe get back to Inn and change clothes. Vincent, you look like mudman, my friend. And my robe half same, hee hee!"

[Guzrath]

"The swamp is dangerous... and not a good place for a bath. Even if you're dry and dying for one, I wouldn't recommend it, or you may find your wish a lot more than just figurative."

"Incredible!" he says merily "You DO have a sense of humor after all. Glad you like the muck" he adds with a wink looking at Zumba covered in muck as well now. A mischievous smile on his lips like a little boy that pulled off a trick.

"Well, it does seem the dead crocodile helped with those girls, so I am the last to complain at its existence." he says.

SouragnienWe get back to Inn and change clothes. Vincent, you look like mudman, my friend. And my robe half same, hee hee!"

Vincent laughs heartily.
"An evening full of surprises. You people apparently needed some action to loosen up a bit. A good development I think." he says.

He looks at the chicken. "If you are right Goren, I am curious who would help us and why." he says, picking up his shirt and chain with signet ring.

[steveflam]

Souragnien "Yes, swim in swamp is fun time for everyone. Maybe person help us concerned of something like no water or evil white cloth man we fighted and his master."

[Ail]

"Yes, well, a sense of humour... too much of it can kill you, Vincent, and I think you should remember that more often. One of my background does not have many moments to party, but when we do, we do it intensely. I can be fun too, when I'm not in danger. And, I guess, when a big big danger has just finished.
I'm glad you are safe."


Then he turns to Goren and explains.


"A gris-gris... it is like a spell, in a way. A voodan can cast spells from a gris-gris. And he can give them to other people, and those can sometimes cast the spell. I'm not sure, I'm not voodan. But yes... this chicken... this bone chicken... it may not be a coincidence. I don't like the idea of taking it, I fear it may give power to the voodan over us."


He stands there looking at the gris-grism in doubt. One could say almost "intensely concentrated", holding his staff, recalling what had happened.


"The alligator wanted to leave the gris-gris, it spit it at us. It did not want to attack us... it was like a message for our group. A gift, a gift maybe. Could it be?"


He opens his sack and covers the bone chicken with it, without touching the thing. He then closes the sack but doesn't take it.


"What do you think?"

[Rock of the Fraternity]

Zumba's precautions are wise and sensible. In a kind and just world, it would have sufficed to collect the gris-gris without suffering its effect.

...

This world is not always just and kind.

The instant the Capoeira's last word leaves his mouth, you can all feel power burn on the air, emanating from the chicken carcass. Your vision of the world goes dark in an instant, and in the darkness you see... an old man.

The old man is bent over by his years and leans on a staff festooned with the bones of countless small animals. His face is cleanshaven and his hair cut short but tangled and uncombed. Grey eyes bore into your very souls, gazing at you from behind a long, bent nose and downsloping eyebrows. Black robes are wrapped around his withered frame.
Despite his years and frailty, the apparition radiates strength and power. Dark power, somehow unnatural strength. But it is clear that he has been sorely taxed recently; his robes are tattered and stained, his face is haggard even for his age. The grim set of his jaw suggests he is holding himself upright mostly by force of will.

The old man speaks, his voice creaky but authoritative: Souragnien: "I am Chicken Bone. None of my calls have been answered. I am beset on all sides. I submit to the inevitable and cast this message out to the winds of chance. Come to me at Lac Noir. Help me escape these attackers, and one service will I do you free of charge, whoever you are. That is all."

The darkness fades in a painfully bright flash - a flash that burns a map onto your minds. You know where to go to find this old man. All you need to do is trek through the Souragnien swamp to get there... While you are still blinking away the last effects of the spell, the chicken carcass quietly crumbles into dust, threads, root and all.