Pellinoresbane was lightning fast and strong and cruel and cunning. With a few passes it made short work of the Eelsmirk, dragging it to the depths by encircling the ship in a whirlpool current its swimming created. But Captain Ahappi boldly leapt onto its back as it passed, and valiantly grabbed a great spine of the sea-beast. Yet the monster swam so furiously fast that he could do little but hold on, and as it swam in tighter and faster circles he soon lost his grip and was senseless in the vortex it had created. The ship had been cut in twain by its sharp back-spines and all passengers were clinging to driftwood or trying their luck in the flimsy little dinghy. Faster and faster the monster circled, and down you went into blackness… and that was the end of the campaign.
Haha, no, no, you awoke after a timeless moment in a cold, dark void, and awoke alone, each of you, in a foreign place.
Ahappi awoke in the talons of a two-headed fishing-bird and had to cripple its nestling and then slide down a scree-slope into a boulder field to escape the menacing talons of the enraged parent.
Maugis had lost his staff, and had to overcome his terror of the angry surf and creep along a narrow ledge, down a path into a deep rocky canyon choked with bones. A dust cloud whirled in a sudden frigid breeze – a spectral being was appearing out of the bones! But with a hasty incantation of scathing Malkioni logic, he banished the vile entity.
The Baronet had lost his shield, and was washed up on a beach amidst a colony of taloned, part blubbery and part furry Lion Seals (lion-headed giant seals). One great big male charged him and he played its game of intimidation well enough to buy time, then ran around it, through the colony of rolling bulk and snapping jaws, and reached high ground where they could not climb.
Boamund had a rougher time of it. He'd lost his spear and was stranded on a thin rocky rim by a tide pool, with wicked currents and sheer cliffs on either side of him. Seeking purchase on the cliff walls, he spotted a glimmer down in the pool and investigated, finding his shield(?) there. He swam down a tunnel and up into a great dark cave. Slender threads hung down from the dark roof, but light from a hole up there beckoned him, so he tested the threads with a rock (it was whisked upwards then dropped), and then presented himself to a mucosal thread, which hauled him upwards. Just as he saw a horrific, large chitinous thing clinging to the ceiling, he cut the line with his weapon and hurtled down onto the rocky cave floor, breaking a leg. Gritting his teeth, he crawled away from the threads and found a tunnel that led upward, but it was a long and arduous climb and he was in sorry shape when he reached the top, clinging to his last shreds of strength by sheer will and heroism alone. Soon enough, he found the village that the others had found, and he was one of the last to do so.
Ciddar was washed onto rocks, losing his nice new crossbow, and had to climb up a sharp rocky hill, avoiding nasty scrapes, then wiggled his way through a thick bramble and leapt across a deep cleft in the rocks to reach the safe high ground. He found what the others found, but grew paranoid of Vadeli and waited until nightfall watching the strange people in the village that he could see from the high ground.
The village was a simple fishing town, the only one on this distant rocky island. The few dozen people there were simple folk; Seshnegi-speaking and nominally members of the Quinpolic League (specifically Pasos), but were so far from civilized lands (northwest side of Pasos territory, close to the Kanthor Island wilderness) that political boundaries meant little to them. They fished and kept to themselves, with only occasional trade with others, and no problems to speak of with pirates or monsters or such.
They had no real leaders, making decisions by group discussions and logical arguments, in which the elders tended to prevail. One elder fisher was Rittame; a gruff, grizzled, long-bearded old salt who seemed to fear nothing and was a staunchly religious man who lived in an old house on the highest point in town, overlooking the tiny harbour.
You soon found contrasting views from the only healer in town, the witch Old Brewbreath, who lived in a shack on a distant high cliff. She was full of fascination for handsome men like the Baronet and Boamund, who needed healing badly, and used her foul breath-magic to invoke a dream-state in those who wished her help, which worked to heal them but also soon (along with the nasty brew she made) left them rowdy drunk; the Captain and Baronet in particular. Boamund was most disappointed in his fellows' intemperance.
The Baronet was disgusted in her heretical views (she seemed godless) and foul manners and soon left, but the Captain was interested in plying her for information about this island (and town) of Barehook. Old Brewbreath related that the bone-field that Boamund had come through was a spirit-place she frequented, and that there was some sort of great spirit/deity/monster on Barehook that (she was vague about this next bit in particular) either was the island itself or was its defender or something (or all these things). Indeed, it was most puzzling why this island was so full of dangers that you'd faced, yet the simple fishing town was apparently not bothered, and seemed content here.
Old Brewbreath tantalized Ahappi with the idea of staying here forever, as a monster that could find peace and meaning here, but Rittame seemed to have other views and the people did not seem to have an easy life, just a simple one. She warned you that the west (dusk) held dangers, and the further they went the closer to death they'd come, with Boamund (she somewhat sadly related) suffering the most. He did not appreciate this news, having felt more than his share of suffering so far, and having his head still very sore from past wounds. You asked the witch what the meaning of your quest might be but she was not very helpful, even though she seemed to know something (or pretend to?) and seemed amused by your plight.
Anyway, soon enough you both tired of each other and she laid down to rest while the rest of you limped back to the village and spoke with Rittame. By now, Ciddar had warily shown himself, still frightened and uncertain that the villagers might be disguised Vadeli. Rittame had discussed things with two local sailors and said they would take you on board his ship, the Longfin, in the morning and carry you to the nearest Pasos port. You laughed drunkenly at the doom he would surely meet from your curse, and he laughed at the notion of doom. Yet soon you all felt the veil of sleep falling across your eyes, and retired for the night in the main hall of Rittame's humble house, secure at last for a night that might be restful.
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