Monte Verde

[Bluehorse]

Pocc smiles and adds "Worry not Rexlin I could still speak to you even as a mouse and understand your replies back. So at least you would still have someone to converse with."

Wrinkles his nose. "Don't encourage him..."

The druid responds to Rexlin "I don't see why not. Sure I'll be right there if you're taking the lead." then addressing the captain "Captain sir. Rexlin and I shall take point sir."

Aye, aye." he says with a nod of affirmation, adjusting his grip on Grace and affixing her with the bayonet as he makes ready to lead the way down the trail. He looks at the Monkey loving mage and almost apologetically add, "No offense, but I'd feel a lot better with you at my back with your hocus pokus at the ready than up front where I would have to shoot around you."

[GreyWolfVT]

The druid responds to Rexlin "I don't see why not. Sure I'll be right there if you're taking the lead." then addressing the captain "Captain sir. Rexlin and I shall take point sir."

Aye, aye." he says with a nod of affirmation, adjusting his grip on Grace and affixing her with the bayonet as he makes ready to lead the way down the trail. He looks at the Monkey loving mage and almost apologetically add, "No offense, but I'd feel a lot better with you at my back with your hocus pokus at the ready than up front where I would have to shoot around you."

Pocc nods agreeing "Aye. I'll be second in line then."

[Spearmint]

The party take a single file, with Rexlin and Pocc out in front looking around for a safe trail to follow and unsafe hazards. You trek off the beach and into the copse of trees, no discernible trail to follow. After perhaps half a mile you start to feel the ground dry and rise as you climb the surrounding foothills. Pocc swishes his scimitar, it cuts through the branches as easily as it would a Merrows' arm. Rexlin, hacks and slashes with equal gusto while those following tread carefully in their boot prints. Blood volunteers to bring up the rear, turning slowly in the shadows of the mangroves to check for hidden dangers. Perhaps his eyes might have been better served further up the line. Hacking through a thin vine set low between two twisted trunks, the front pair trigger a baited trap which fires a hidden short spear at knee high a few feet behind them. There is a squeal of pain and a grunt as one of the line hit the dirt.

trap set off [1d100] = 29 damage [1d6] = 4
Rex, Pocc, Zogg, Pascale, Eli, Grimwald, Capt Laz, Igg, Sigg, Vdp, Holden, 'Goldie', Blood. [1d12] = 6

Grimwald, one of the crew accompanying the mission is lanced through his thigh by a sharpened shaft, the flint stone head piercing through all his leg muscles. He bleeds a lot, perhaps an internal artery severed, he goes pale and limp, struggling to stand gripping the Captain. "Did I save you Captain Sir, took one for the boss did I Sir?" he says weakly before passing out.

actions please

[onlyme]

Blood takes a moment to realize what happened, being a bit too far back to register the tripwire.
This place is deadlier than I imagined. Does anyone have a binding rag for our poor chap?

[GreyWolfVT]

Pocc "I have but one spell that could heal Grim a bit other than that I've little in the way of first aid for him." then examining the wound more "Though this injury might be a bit more than my healing powers can deal with."

[OGRE MAGE]

Siggard stops in his tracks at the first sign of commotion. Looking over the shoulders of those in front of him, the mage hopes that the shaman or Eli can do something about the poor crewman before it is too late.

"What was that? A trip wire? Did someone up ahead trigger a trip wire? Who sets a tripwire up out here in the middle of nowhere?"

The mage thinks on it a bit longer.

"Stay alert! We may have just stumbled into somewhere that someone else doesn't want us to be."

[Bluehorse]

Rexlin

He watches grimly seeing the wound pouring out lifes blood. he would never admit it, but he felt a pang of guilt. Still, he forced his eyes away and scanned the perimeter and the trees for sign of ambush, checking all sides up and down.

[Spearmint]

Grimwald faints from the loss of blood but he is in stout hearted company. Captain Lazarus pulls out a dagger to make Grimwald for bite down upon and rather crudely pushes the spear right through to the come free out the other side of the mans' thigh. Taking the mans tartan scarf to wrap around his leg. Old mariner Elijah takes over, binding the wound and then uttering a pray of grace for Poseidons' divine favours. "Oh great Poseidon, Ye who dwells in the depths, sear this man's conscience and soul with your heavenly liberations and bind his shattered limbs to mainstay his frame once more that he might not bleed out his life on these serpentine shores but upon your own saline domain.".

Eli cure light wounds [1d8] = 6 The doomsday prophets word are heard and a salty wind blows across the tree tops carrying the sound of crashing waves. Grimwald stands with his bound leg healed and bones intact. He takes the rustic made spear as a memento, giving it a once over and cleans his blood from the chiselled end. It is made of animal bone and sharpened to a fine point. Iggway can confirm from her time in the island that few of the natives have taken on 'colonial ways', still dressing in customary fashions.

The file of men continue forward and soon step into a small game trail. Tiny cloven feet have passed by repeatedly and a few signs on low down bark indicate signs of rutting and smearing scent. Wild boars seem a likely culprit. As the point men move on, checking more carefully about snares and traps you smell the faint wisps of wood smoke and hear a foreign chatter. It sounds as though a small group of adolescents are beyond the bushes ahead. Captain Lazarus raises a hand and signals forward a couple of folk to investigate.

any native speakers want to go look?

[OGRE MAGE]

Sig hears the strange chatter and becomes very curious about it. He looks to the shaman woman again to see if she recognizes it at all. He nods to the woman, knowing that the two of them might be best suited for this task.

"If you accompany me, I will go up and have a look."

The mage lets Face out of his pack and tosses him up into the nearest tree branch. He points to his ear and then to where the voices are coming from so the monkey can get a birds eye view of them. He then begins moving as elf-like as he can towards the bushes, hoping his friend will chatter loudly if he spots any obvious danger ahead.

[Zhym]

What's the language?

[Spearmint]

Zoggrot can speak Olmaic. The indigenous natives speak their own dialects and thus each 'colony' or ethnic race may speak a language with the same roots or grammar but still need a translator for real accuracy, (Think Italian to Spanish or French). So Iggway who comes from the Florida Keys will be fluent in that local language but may have trouble communicating with folk from the Iberian mainland. These natives on Monte Verde speak a dialect similar to many of the native groups on the Leeward and Windward islands so both Zoggrot and Siggard would be able to converse with them, if not exactly word for word you may be understood and vice versa.

[Zhym]

"This should be fun," says Zoggrot under his breath before stepping up to join Siggard.

[GreyWolfVT]

Pocc "Good luck and lets try not to start a war with the natives." the sea-druid warns.

[Bluehorse]

Rexlin

Doesn't seem as willing to believe things will go well and cocks Grace, checking her prime.

[thesniperknight1]

Holden stands back among the in the middle of the file lost in thought almost unaware of what's going on around him, this place reminded him of the island where he spent so many years. He remembers the gypsy's vision and he clutches his hand sweating and breathing heavily. When he came to, he heard people volunteering for something, he simply stands silently.

[Hotgoblin]

Iggway walks up behind Zoggrot and Siggard to meet the natives. She may not be able to communicate as well, but indigenous people may be more responsive when they see someone of their ilk. Be very careful where you step...these children probably won't even speak to us with the way we smell! Iggy also had rubbed the fat and attached the greaves around her legs.

[Spearmint]

The intrepid trio step forward through a small copse of dense shrubbery and into a small clearing. White wispy smoke from a doused fire continues to smoulder from the embers of a fire pit. Above it several large speckled fish dangle, smoking for flavour. An adolescent girl is gutting a few more with a flint stone knife, casually tossing the guts into a large wicker urn. She has a lei of lotus flowers around her shoulders which drape over a simple blue flax dyed cotton dress, which appears stained about the girls midriff. Another basket holder is standing upon a high branch, poking above into a bunch of exotic fruits with a forked stick and catching fallers with aplomb. The clearing is small enough to house a few simple sheltered thatched bunks, built in a circle of local bamboo-like wood and raised on stilts off the ground. The platforms contain simple earthenware crockery and knitted blankets. A few girls fan a prone body with long fronds, wafting a cool breeze and driving the midges away. In all, about a dozen young teenage girls are camping here, busy at minor camp tasks. A casual underfoot twig snap brings you to their attention and the place immediately erupts in a frantic squeal of soprano voices, who drop their tools and make for the central communal building and huddle in fear. A couple reach for wooden bows but hold them very shakily. The prone body begins to rise, an old woman, frail and advanced in years. Sweat pours from her brow and she clutches a blankets around her for warmth and security. Speaking in her native tongue she directs a girl to address the 'visitors'.

"Sister, why do you lead these men into our 'Koral'. We are forbidden to mix until ritually clean. Have you lead these men to come to kill us too?", she asks of Iggway, clearly noting her native apparel.

It seems the natives are still following cultural traditions and the 'Koral' would be where young unmarried girls on their monthly cycle are sent to be excluded from the village life until their period bleeding has stopped. Some of the older village grandmas' would act as nursemaid to safeguard the debs through the season. Severe punishments may be inflicted upon girls retreating back into their family groups while still menstruating, It seems a greater fear of cultural tradition takes precedence over an intrusion by armed men.

actions please.

[Hotgoblin]

Iggway nods to the young girl speaking to her. These men are my friends and we are not here to harm you. We will not cross into your camp... She looks to the woman clutching the blanket..Are you feeling ok Mother of sisters? You're vitality is waning!

[OGRE MAGE]

Siggard shows his hands to these women, smiles, and takes one step backwards. He guesses that it would be best to let the female speak for the group.

[Bluehorse]

Rexlin

Grumbles softly... not in a mood to wait. "What do you suppose they're doin' up there? Can anyone hear?"