Loose threads: A mutated electric dire wolf survived and fled after failing to ambush the party at the Spire Hills; a giant sea serpent was spotted off the coast of Greyspine Mountains
Participants: Clayfang, Gristlemaw, Rikka, Swoom, Toma
Locations: Spire Hills, Abandoned Pirate Cove between Greyspine Mountains and The Shorepines
Short summary:
A simple ingredient gathering quest, as requested by Elvira, fraught with close-encounters with the local Fauna. We returned triumphantly, all in one piece.
Full Report: Toma
The group, sans myself and Clayfang, met at the Blinking Pug, shortly before I arrived. As for myself, I was enjoying a meal, courtesy of the gentle-lady Elvira, when I heard of a sharp-tongued Sprite called the Swoom, and the small group of adventurers he was traveling with.
Per Elvira's request, and my own curiosity, I rushed out to meet the party, and brought them back to the Pub, where we were tasked to retrieve a list of cooking ingredients: Some seaweed and an assortment of seafood. For this purpose, we were each equipped with a Bag of Holding, with curious refrigeration properties, unlike any I had ever seen before.
So, we struck out on our humble quest, Gristlemaw, a Gnoll towering over all of us, champion of the Divine, with his ferocious Carrion-Bird companion; the aforementioned Swoom, riding on his canine steed; Rikka, a white-haired human with an air of mystery about her, and of course, your humble author for today, Toma, with my co-author Spook. We were soon joined by Clayfang, a young Kobold armed with two deviously clever instruments of war. There we were, all eight of us, setting out on our first foray into the New World.
Our first day of travel was without incident, though we couldn't help but feel watched by someone high above. We set up camp atop a hill, under a cracked moon assailed by distant howls. Unlike me, my fellow travelers were quite used to the outdoors and we had ourselves a secure place for the night, or so we thought. Some time past midnight, during my watch, we were quickly surrounded by a pack of wolves. These beasts were clearly a result of arcane experimentation, two of them were emanating a cold fog, while the larger one was crackling with electricity.
There I was, scared, but not alone. Thanks to Clayfang's presence of mind in causing a ruckus as soon as they woke up, almost the entire party was up and ready to fight. Rikka's expertise with her rifle made quick work of one of the wolves, and partially wounded another, who was then skewered by Clayfang's pick. The bigger wolf in a fit of desperation attempted to swallow Big Crow, Gristlemaw's bird, but was forced to relinquish it and flee when the odds turned against it. Be it our lack of experience or simply an abundance of compassion, we let the wounded beast get away. The party had sustained minor injuries which were quickly patched up by Grislemaw's divine magic.
Note: Spook here tells me the Swoom was asleep for most of the encounter, muttering something about "my Vespie".
The rest of the night was uneventful. In the morning, I learned Clayfang had made a rather interesting cold stew from the beasts slain last night.
The second day was spent traveling the breadth of the Hills, marred towards the end by rain which we were able to avert, once again thanks to Clayfang's keen senses. A loud blood-curdling screech was heard in the dead of the night, if only we knew back then what it meant for the rest of our journey. Finally, on the third day, we reached our destination. Beyond the pines lay the beach, and the sea spread beyond that as far as the eye could see. Clayfang and Rikka reported seeing a giant serpent in the distance, which I myself couldn't confirm.
The day was spent gathering seafood, some of whom decided to fight back. Rikka proved her skill yet again, completely annihilating her targets from a distance, be they crabs or octopi. Towards the afternoon, Gristlemaw braved the rough waves and returned with a bounty of seaweed. Spook and I, meanwhile, explored a ship-wreck, discovering a curious item of Evocation Magic.* Thus, our task was complete; yet we couldn't rest easy just yet. A sense of foreboding prompted me to set up make-shift alarms from the wreckage in the event of an ambush.
The dusk crept on us and just as we were about to get comfortable in our bedrolls, we were surrounded by danger once again. An Owlbear mother and her cub approached the beach, most probably in search of some extra fat before hibernation. The party felt ready; until we heard the same blood-curdling screech from last night, leaving a chill run down our backs. Gristlemaw, Clayfang and Big Crow stood at the front lines allowing the rest of us to keep our distance and attack freely. Gristlemaw, ever the risk-taker, managed to immobilize the mother with his impressive bite strength. The fight was short and brutal, with our warriors sustaining considerable injuries despite their best efforts. I blanked out from the fear and excitement soon, but Spook has since relayed what happened thereafter.
In a desperate ploy, Clayfang, already caught in the mother's talons, attacks the cub, causing its mother to break out in another piercing screech. Before she could exact her revenge on our Kobold companion, our sharpshooters engage it fiercely with two bullet wounds courtesy of Rikka, and an arrow to the eye from the Swoom. Amidst the chaos Gristlemaw manages to chomp down on the beast's neck yet again, a worthy feat worth repeating, while Big-Crow pecks out her eyes, till she stops moving.
Hence, the evening came to an end, with the party divided between reflecting on our actions and enjoying Owlbear stew, which seasoned by my hunger was quite the treat, although not for someone with a more discernible palate. One thing was for sure though; we had survived the First of our Ordeals in the New World, with a sense of mutual respect and bittersweet triumph.
*Anyone knowledgeable in Arcana, please contact us and help identify this object, as my own skills are not quite enough.