The Impossible Mission: Group A Game Thread

  • @xaade said in The Impossible Mission: Group A Game Thread:

    Having noticed how aggressively the two Goblins attacked the skeletons, Zabrock grabs a couple of reasonable sized bones from the pile and walks over to Scai and Snib and holds them out.


    Edwin shakes his head. "I would advise against that. As those are obviously defiled with necromantic energies, we will need to rebury the bones as well as perform the proper burial rites to make the area safe again. Also, there are some stories of particularly vengeful dead hunting down and killing those that stole parts of them. Given their adamant abilities and their assistance, I would not wish death to be their reward."

    He gave a long, low sigh as he finally eased his tense muscles "Also, I will see to tending those of us still injured, now that the danger has mostly past." He would also need to speak with the pilgrim's cleric as this may be taxing to only be done by one vessel of the divine.

  • Alanus breaths a sigh of relief as he sees the bone monstrosity cease moving. Under his breath he mutters, "So troublesome... so troublesome", as he starts walking around to go pick up each of his swords that he'd been forced to drop.

    He comes to a stop near Edwin, and as Alanus glances towards the pilgrims he comments, "Makes sense Edwin."

  • Not understanding a bit of what wordy healy guy was saying, both goblins eagerly snatch the bones from Zabrock and head for the rock piles to get a marrow-getter rock. It doesn't take them more than a moment to start cracking open the leg bones.

    Rowan lets out a long, slow, shaky breath as he strokes the previously-injured horse's neck. "I think in this case he'd be okay with a thank you, even from a heathen," he answers in a somewhat dazed tone. It's pretty clear he's never been in real combat before and is crashing hard from battle-rush.

    Across the camp, the sound of wooden staves hitting bone falls silent, leaving that side of the camp in near total silence. Other than Vanessa's chanting, which seems to be reaching a crescendo, only the soft crunch of footsteps on loose rock and dirt can be heard. Deidre, Rowan's master, and the hunter Castor break off from the main group to tend to one of the hunting dogs, who looks rather badly clawed up. A few of the pilgrims seem bloodied but upright and walking so probably not too badly hurt. There is one clump of pilgrims mostly hidden from sight by one of the wagons but they can't see what they're focusing on.

  • Impossible Mission Players - A

    Hearing @cloak15's admonishment to leave the remains alone, @tsaukpaetra reaches out and calls (in as commanding voice as he can muster at this point) to Snib and Scai, "<goblic>Don't eat that, unless you want to be poisoned by the evil that gave them life!</goblic>"

    Walking back to @cloak15 himself, he returns the mace he borrowed with hid head bowed in shame, "So... yeah, I got one? Thanks for the use of your weapon, maybe I'll pick one up myself if this happens again."

    Still a little downtrodden despite the success of the battle, he grumbles, "Can we finish the day so I can sleep now?" and ambles about aimlessly.

  • The two goblins pause, Snib with his mouth only a scant inch or two from one of the bones. They exchange glances, clearly uncertain. Poison sucks but... hungry. Maybe it's not that bad of a poison? Scai kind of gestures for Snib to go ahead, earning a flat look from his friend. Yeah, thanks asshat, I'll just go first so you can see if my flesh rots off or whatever. Growling, Snib tosses the bone to the ground and crosses his arms sourly. After a moment, Scai does the same, offering Snib an apologetic look.

  • "Well, I suppose I can at least help ensure that we'll have some food ready for people as they finish tending to the remains." With a glance at Edwin, Cy continued, "Though, if you do need help, let me know... I'm not trying to skive out of work or anything..."

  • Alanus shakes his head a little as he watches the goblins' interaction following. Yeah... those bones ain't for nourishment... After a moment he comments to those nearby, "I think I should scout around nearby a little... just make sure there's no opportunists or dark arts practitioners lying in wait..."

  • Seeing the dying embers of the abandoned cook fire, Cy moved to rekindle the fire as quickly as he could without aggravating his headache. Edwin was quite busy dealing with the aftermath of their battle, and Cy hadn't had time to inspect his cloak and make sure there weren't any remnants of the skeletal creatures clinging to it, so instead he took the cloak off and laid it neatly by the camp's cleaning area before he went to rebuild the smoldering embers into a workable cooking fire. The evening chill had already begun settling in, despite the sounds of spring being largely absent, the birds and insects likely scared away by the sounds and smells of the fighting. Still, a little chill would be welcome, and might even help with the waves of pain and fatigue pulsing from Cy's temples down to the base of his neck.

    Gathering some additional kindling, Cy was relieved to see the embers relight and stoke the cooking fire -- he wasn't at all certain he could have restarted a fire magically, and the tang of flint and steel definitely wouldn't help his condition either. As he worked at rebuilding the fire and preparing the vegetables that would go with the night's roast, Cy slipped into a brooding malaise.

    What am I even doing out here? Everyone else sprang quickly into action when the trouble arose, and I just stood there trying to determine what to do... And even once I did start fighting, it took all my focus just to down a few of the mundane skeletons, while Zabrock was effortlessly turning the bloody skeletons to pulp, and he nearly split the giant skeleton's arm in two with a single swing. And Marzon, hurling himself into danger while I was just standing there helpless, unsure if I even had the strength to continue fighting. Heck, if a wild boar came rampaging through the camp right now, I would be helpless toward it... or maybe even if a wild rat came to carry off the bread.

    With a mental snort, Cy cut himself off, but continued brooding about the battle. Ever since his powers had started to manifest and he had been forced to join the academy, it seemed that every instinct of Cy's had been wrong. Sure, some of them had worked out at the time, but usually only the ones he stopped and thought about before proceeding. And yet, as their travels had continued, it was quite apparent that their tactics instructors were right, and that spending time thinking through all the possible reactions was just a fancy way to get yourself and your team killed... so, how could he proceed as team leader without being able to trust his instincts? Even his instinct to stay out of harm's way and contribute from a safe distance had been wrong, as Rowan proved when he rushed to the horses' aid while Cy daintily flung spells around...

    Lost in thought, Cy didn't even notice as the drippings from the roasting meat sizzled into the cook fire, causing it to flare wildly.

  • Without a word, Rowan moves next to Cy, reaching out to rotate the meat so it cooks even. He doesn't say anything for a few moments, just stares into the fire. Finally, he says, "thank you. For helping... I... There was never a lesson, never a moment when we were told as children that we can't trust outsiders but... we all learned anyway. I can't recall a time when someone not one of our own put themselves in danger like this for us before. Even Elder Garath can't and he's by far the oldest of us. So... thank you."

    Across the camp, the other pilgrims start spreading out as the last of the undead are dealt with. Some sobbing can be heard, as well as quiet words being shared. Brother Keldar, looking wan and red of eye, slowly approaches the party with a slight limp. "Do... do any of you need healing?" he asks, voice carefully controlled, though faint tremors can be heard nevertheless. He glances towards Zabrock and Marzon as he asks, the pair farthest from Rowan.

  • Pulled out of his reverie, Cy turned toward Rowan and smiled, "It was my pleasure to help out. And I guess we're just as instinctive about helping fellow travelers where I come from. In the foothills, towns would have a very hard time surviving without the trade caravans and the roaming adventurers that keep those caravans safe from brigands and feral wildlife. We often viewed helping honest travelers the same as we would helping a neighbor, or even family..." As Cy trailed off, his gaze sort of glazed over again, his mind drawn back to home. After a short bit of wool-gathering, he shook himself, and looked down at the pile of vegetables in front of him. "And thanks for saving the meat. I guess I got a little distracted here, but at least we have enough carrots prepared for a few meals," Cy grinned at Rowan a bit sheepishly.

  • @Kaelas Marzon, holding his stomach with one arm turns at the sound of Brother Keldar. His grin of victory quickly wiped off his face and in place a sad sorrowful frown appears. "I....if there are no others in need of aid....." Marzon quietly and morosely states while glancing away, refusing to meet Brother Keldar's eyes. Instead Marzon stares at the ground, appalled at himself for thinking of victory and glory when others might have lost their lives fighting off the undead.

    Others probably perished and all you can think about is your pride and glory....selfish, stupid child. Didn't father raise you better? Marzon berates himself mentally.

  • "I believe we may be alright in a bit of time, though if there are others that may require healing, I would be happy to assist with this." Edwin gave a slight nod to Brother Keldar. "I believe we have at least long enough to heal and bandange any of the wounded before properly burying the remains of these restless bones. I would hate for another group to have the same misfortune. I would also ask if you are well, as I can imagine that your efforts were taxing." He didn't have the skill to hold one of those creatures at bay, but he could imagine the effort and strain that would require.

  • The Brother nods soberly. "The Herald," and he says that with with more... reverence than he had this morning, which says something as he and all the other pilgrims had always shown her great respect already, "managed to seal the abomination until Durnik could destroy it and is already working towards making the graves safe for the night. If you would be willing, she would like to perform a joint rite tomorrow to make sure they are firmly sent to their rests, after we...." His expression falls a little, though he continues to present a firm, careful face. "And thank you for your offer, Cleric Gales, but all those that can be healed, have been. There is nothing more we can do until the dawn," he says softly, his eyes closing for a moment.

    Rowan ducks his head, his expression showing for just a moment sadness but also (guilty) relief. A glance towards the other side of camp shows at least three clusters of pilgrims, with Ashleigh heading towards them with a bolt of some rough-weave fabric.

  • Finally catching Brother Keldar's tone and Rowan's reaction, Cy awkwardly stops his work on the vegetables. "Oh... did you suffer casualties in the fight? I... I didn't mean to give any offense by restarting dinner..." Shuffling awkwardly, Cy continued, "My condolences... should... should I continue working on dinner, or is there something else I should be doing?"

  • Impossible Mission Players - A

    "I'm personally of the opinion that dinner would be a great idea. Everyone's tired, injured, and undoubtedly hungry." @Tsaukpaetra grumbles, "Life goes on, we'll ensure it."

  • "Well said, Mister Gurble," Brother Kheldar says, voice wan but with much more acceptance in it than the group has been given previously. "If you and young Rowan can see to dinner, that would be a great deal of help right now. Sister Deidre will be over shortly to supervise." Rowan looks up, nodding quickly. "Yessir, I'll be sure she rests."

  • "I would be more than happy to assist in ensuring the rest of the dead." And it might be educational as to what these pilgrims are doing. The Herald is supposed to be guiding them where they are supposed to go, and they seemed more experienced than himself, so did they also not recognize the stones? It's obviously not that they are simply lost, given that level of ability... still, they have done nothing to make him believe they are anything but good and cautious. "I will see to the small preparations I can make before dinner." A thought struct Edwin as he finally had the time to fully go over the events in his head. "Is the injured boy alright? The one that fell on the stones?"

  • His face burning with a heat that was in stark contrast to the evening's settling cool, Cy nodded wordlessly and returned his attention to finishing the dinner preparations. Not only was I so caught up in my own moping that I didn't even check on the pilgrims... I just went straight to do my own thing without even ensuring they had secured the other side of the camp. Maybe I should offer to let someone else take over as team lead.

  • Zabrock reflects on whether a proper Paladin could have avoided the fight altogether.

  • "Jason is... well enough. Horrified and guilty at what he unknowingly awoke and the wound fought the healing enough to scar, but physically unharmed," Kheldar says with a slight frown. "Still, I think he feels better for it, having a... token to remind him makes him feel as if he were punished, which might possibly help him past his guilt. Still, he is young and youth is a healing magic all in its own." With that, he bows slightly and heads back to the others.

    The rest of the night goes by without any more outbreaks of undead. Deidre arrives to take over dinner but is firmly rebuffed by a nervous but firm Rowan, instead made to sit and merely give directions. She isn't injured but it's clear the somewhat elderly woman is exhausted by the fighting. Dinner is a somber event, quiet and solemn, though several of the pilgrims make a point to murmur thanks or give a respectful nod. Two exceptions to this are the Herald, who takes a few moments from making constant circuits of her people to thank each party member individually and Rowan's sister. Ashleigh near to crashes into Cy, wrapping him an almost painful embrace as she rattles of thanks for keeping her fool of a little brother from getting himself killed with his little magic sling bullets or whatever those were. Rowan, of course, looks mortified that his sister is making such a big deal about this- and moving on to fuss over and scold him in equal parts- but also rather pleased under that.

    When dawn comes, those of the party awake enough that early to pay attention are witness to seeing one of the older pilgrims leading a funeral service. They're doing this a hundred feet or so away from the camp, clearly aiming for privacy without secrecy, but the party can still see and even hear a few snatches of the rite. There are seven mounds, each clearly a body wrapped in coarse fabric, which are set aflame with magic near the end of the rite. Seven dead out of forty-four from a single night's danger... it perhaps makes some of the party wonder how many pilgrims there had been when first they started their journey.

    The funeral takes less than a half hour to officially finish, but the pilgrims mostly remain by the funeral pyres ,offering and sharing comfort for now. After a few moments, Rowan and the Herald start to make their way back- Vanessa seems to be heading for Edwin but the young man is heading for the food supply wagon, likely to get a late breakfast started.

  • Zabrock is no stranger to discrimination, however he wonders what level of harsh mistreatment the pilgrims faced to prefer death in the wilderness.

  • As the morning dawns, Cy awakens a little tentatively, cautiously opening his eyes and hoping his headache didn't return. After a few moments, he determines he's feeling pretty well -- other than his ribs, which still echo with the force of Rowan's sister's embrace. Working through his morning routine, he dons his cloak and re-packs his backpack, then steps out of his tent, looking for Edwin to have a short discussion.

    [ @cloak15 ]

  • Edwin had taken the morning to reflect on the past day as well as observe the funeral rites once he realized that was happening. He looked up from where he had taken a seat towards Cy. "Good morning, Cyssaliht. I hope that you are well." Especially as there's much to consider, given their path so far.

  • "I'm doing a fair bit better than I was last night. I wanted..." Cy pauses, struggling to make eye contact even more than normal, though now his gaze keeps dropping to his shoes, instead of flitting about in the sky above Edwin's shoulders... "I wanted to thank you for your clear direction and decisiveness during last night's battle."

    The rest comes out in a rush, as Cy struggles to complete his thoughts before his nerve fails, "I don't know if I would have even been able to figure out what to do and maybe you would be a better team leader than me any way and what if my running out of energy had gotten Marzon..." Cy breaks off suddenly, his face crimson red and giving off so much heat it almost made the morning air shimmer.

  • Impossible Mission Players - A

    @tsaukpaetra stares aghast at @izzion , "hey! Don't go blaming yourself only for the performance of the team! Surely we all know we still have work to do, our effectiveness as teammates won't fix itself so quickly, and you can't expect miracles to happen just because you were named leader!" he (softly) exclaims, "stop quibbling around and help make plans for us to improve. You don't become a good leader by whining, and we need you to focus and help get us back on track. If you let these self-doubts cloud your mind, it won't matter if you're not the leader, you'll be so distracted that my bumbling about yesterday will look like... Like... Oh whatever. Look, we all need to get better, but team morale is the first place to start. Ok?"

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