A Sparkling Zombie
Meep
"The horizon's clear, captain!"
The spyglass poked from over the rim of the crow's nest. From the bow of the ship, it and the announcement were the only signs of the halfling's presence.
Standing at the stern, Captain Zarmos laughed and grinned. His yellowed teeth and amber eyes did as much for his devilish looks as his red skin and the horns wrapped tightly around his head like a crown. "You heard what Panras said!" he rasped. He strutted to the rail. "Lady Luck Tymora smiles upon us today! Our days along the perimeter finally paid off. Our destination's in reach!"
The crew above deck whooped and clapped at their good fortune.
"But now's not the time to get careless. We all heard the horror stories. Get those cannons below deck! Batten down the hatches!"
"We need less wind!" shouted Jalana, a woman of Turami descent, from behind the wheel. A mohawk adorned her round head. "We're going through the outcrop."
Captain Zarmos turned toward her. "You have this, Jalana. Nice n' easy."
Jalana grinned. "Yep."
Captain Zarmos laughed. "The best damn helmswoman!"
People in Waterdeep called the voyage suicide. Mostly drunkards bragged of close calls within the mysterious maelstrom at the farthest reaches of the Forgotten Realms. Most knew them to be liars at worst, or cowards or wise, depending on perspective, at best. Anyone who decided to brave the waters and see the journey through never returned.
The crew respected their tiefling captain, but only the most loyal and daring agreed to stick with him when he announced his ambition. He dismissed them as cowards, a friendly elbow in the ribs, before seeking other daredevils to replenish their numbers. A goliath and a triton were uncommon sights among the diverse crew, but they embraced them as much as they welcomed anyone else, so long as they made themselves useful and at least tolerated some of the rowdy personalities.
A tense quiet blanketed the crew as they prepared, save for the warnings shouted to Jalana about obstacles not easily seen from the wheel. Through jagged rocks and around whirlpools she steered the ship. The hours felt like lifetimes. It became the first afternoon that their firbolg companion didn't spur everyone into a jaunty tune, but when the cook rang the dinner bell and most gathered round the tables, they broke out into lively chatter and boasted about their successes so far. They all knew the risks. Since departing from Waterdeep's harbor, they celebrated each evening.
At last, the ship broke free from the rocky outcrop. Calm seas stretched around them for miles.
The hurricane came out of nowhere.
Rain buffeted faces. Angry waves rocked the ship and washed hapless victims overboard. Those quick enough tied lines around their waists.
"Come on, Jalana, keep her steady!" cried Zarmos.
"I'm trying! We need less sails!"
"Blast! You! Cut the lines to that sail!"
As the minutes stretched and the surviving crew did their best to weather the storm, Jalana showed why she had earned the captain's praise. But not even she was equipped to handle the wave that rose as high as great sea beasts of legend. People cried. They bargained with the gods. They had time for nothing else before the behemoth crashed over the ship and the world went black.
An ungodly squeal would awaken Tove and Erion.
Sand cushioned them. Waves lapped at their limbs. The sun shined, having passed its peak not long ago.
People screamed over the sound of destruction. It sounded close - close in the same way that village was close. Its perimeter lied within running distance, the aged, wooden buildings sitting ignorant of the chaos that stirred deeper in. A cloud of dust billowed from what maybe could have been the town center, or farther.
The triton and the goliath were the only bodies on the beach. No ship rested out at sea, nor had any flotsam washed ashore.
Another squeal. It pierced the ears like a needle did flesh.
Erion and Tove had a few more moments to gain their bearings before the corner of the closest house exploded in a barrage of shrapnel. The hulking mass blurred toward them like an oversized cannonball. Cloven feet thundered across the ground and kicked up dirt until it skidded to a halt thirty feet away. A spear and arrows protruded from its sides. Fresh blood stained the fur.
"Make haste! We mustn't let it get away!" bellowed a voice. A man with brown hair and a bronze headband burst from behind a building. His bronze breastplate was decorated with a red chalamys. "Aha! It's here! Worry not! We'll help you two!"
A blonde woman and another brown-haired man flanked either side of the first. Leather armor and bows might have announced their trade, but the white linens draped over their bodies looked like robes. It differed from what Erion and Tove witnessed in the cities back on the Sword Coast.
"Careful of its charge!" the woman warned.
The boar's wild eyes stared at the goliath and the triton. It squealed its curse and snorted its distaste.
Name: Great Boar
HP: 52/52
AC: 14
The spyglass poked from over the rim of the crow's nest. From the bow of the ship, it and the announcement were the only signs of the halfling's presence.
Standing at the stern, Captain Zarmos laughed and grinned. His yellowed teeth and amber eyes did as much for his devilish looks as his red skin and the horns wrapped tightly around his head like a crown. "You heard what Panras said!" he rasped. He strutted to the rail. "Lady Luck Tymora smiles upon us today! Our days along the perimeter finally paid off. Our destination's in reach!"
The crew above deck whooped and clapped at their good fortune.
"But now's not the time to get careless. We all heard the horror stories. Get those cannons below deck! Batten down the hatches!"
"We need less wind!" shouted Jalana, a woman of Turami descent, from behind the wheel. A mohawk adorned her round head. "We're going through the outcrop."
Captain Zarmos turned toward her. "You have this, Jalana. Nice n' easy."
Jalana grinned. "Yep."
Captain Zarmos laughed. "The best damn helmswoman!"
People in Waterdeep called the voyage suicide. Mostly drunkards bragged of close calls within the mysterious maelstrom at the farthest reaches of the Forgotten Realms. Most knew them to be liars at worst, or cowards or wise, depending on perspective, at best. Anyone who decided to brave the waters and see the journey through never returned.
The crew respected their tiefling captain, but only the most loyal and daring agreed to stick with him when he announced his ambition. He dismissed them as cowards, a friendly elbow in the ribs, before seeking other daredevils to replenish their numbers. A goliath and a triton were uncommon sights among the diverse crew, but they embraced them as much as they welcomed anyone else, so long as they made themselves useful and at least tolerated some of the rowdy personalities.
A tense quiet blanketed the crew as they prepared, save for the warnings shouted to Jalana about obstacles not easily seen from the wheel. Through jagged rocks and around whirlpools she steered the ship. The hours felt like lifetimes. It became the first afternoon that their firbolg companion didn't spur everyone into a jaunty tune, but when the cook rang the dinner bell and most gathered round the tables, they broke out into lively chatter and boasted about their successes so far. They all knew the risks. Since departing from Waterdeep's harbor, they celebrated each evening.
At last, the ship broke free from the rocky outcrop. Calm seas stretched around them for miles.
The hurricane came out of nowhere.
Rain buffeted faces. Angry waves rocked the ship and washed hapless victims overboard. Those quick enough tied lines around their waists.
"Come on, Jalana, keep her steady!" cried Zarmos.
"I'm trying! We need less sails!"
"Blast! You! Cut the lines to that sail!"
As the minutes stretched and the surviving crew did their best to weather the storm, Jalana showed why she had earned the captain's praise. But not even she was equipped to handle the wave that rose as high as great sea beasts of legend. People cried. They bargained with the gods. They had time for nothing else before the behemoth crashed over the ship and the world went black.
***
An ungodly squeal would awaken Tove and Erion.
Sand cushioned them. Waves lapped at their limbs. The sun shined, having passed its peak not long ago.
People screamed over the sound of destruction. It sounded close - close in the same way that village was close. Its perimeter lied within running distance, the aged, wooden buildings sitting ignorant of the chaos that stirred deeper in. A cloud of dust billowed from what maybe could have been the town center, or farther.
The triton and the goliath were the only bodies on the beach. No ship rested out at sea, nor had any flotsam washed ashore.
Another squeal. It pierced the ears like a needle did flesh.
Erion and Tove had a few more moments to gain their bearings before the corner of the closest house exploded in a barrage of shrapnel. The hulking mass blurred toward them like an oversized cannonball. Cloven feet thundered across the ground and kicked up dirt until it skidded to a halt thirty feet away. A spear and arrows protruded from its sides. Fresh blood stained the fur.
"Make haste! We mustn't let it get away!" bellowed a voice. A man with brown hair and a bronze headband burst from behind a building. His bronze breastplate was decorated with a red chalamys. "Aha! It's here! Worry not! We'll help you two!"
A blonde woman and another brown-haired man flanked either side of the first. Leather armor and bows might have announced their trade, but the white linens draped over their bodies looked like robes. It differed from what Erion and Tove witnessed in the cities back on the Sword Coast.
"Careful of its charge!" the woman warned.
The boar's wild eyes stared at the goliath and the triton. It squealed its curse and snorted its distaste.
HP: 52/52
AC: 14