Society of Explorers: A Group Test has started at Outside Arx - Crownlands near Brighthold - Isle of Trials.

It had taken some time for all of the schedules of those who had expressed interest in joining the Society of Explorers to align with Marzio's, and then a touch longer for the Mazetti lord to see to a ship being arranged to carry them from the city of Arx to the site of the group's test. The waters are fairly hospitable to the group as they head out upon the open sea from Arx, perhaps making one wonder just how far you have to travel to seek entry into the Society of Explorers. They first approach Brighthold, and then continue down the coast for a while before turning out to sea. All the while, Marzio is attempting to lure those in his company into bawdy sailing songs and drinking liquor that most certainly would prove to be no help at all with the aptitude tests they'll soon be facing. Perhaps they are already being tested?

Their destination comes into view as the sun begins to sink beneath the distant horizon of the sea. The ship approaches a small island, far too small to play host to a domain of any size. Vaguely circular, as most good islands are, the group can just make out a pristine beach which they currently approach, and just beyond that a dense forest which surrounds a large stone outcropping that juts toward the sky. The outcropping is at best a very large hill, and at worst a very diminutive mountain.

Darkness has almost fallen when Marzio and the group of applicants are finally able to step from the rowboat onto the pristine sands of what has been dubbed the Isle of Trials at every chance Marzio's had since the island came into view, and stars are beginning to pop into existence in the darkening sky high above.

Lord Ezra Riven is not a person one sees out and about at social functions or at parties. A slightly reclusive and deeply introverted person by nature, he has come into association with other people the same way most introverts do: via an extrovert. Marzio. It is Marzio's fault he is here. From deep in the Crownlands, Ezra is not a natural mariner, happy to stay out of the crew's way as they travel. He cannot be induced to bawdy songs or much drinking, though he does often have a shy grin for the best songs.

He seems glad to have his feet on the land again as the rowboat makes landing, and looks up as the stars sparkle overhead. "Ah, the Island of Trialing." So close. So close to ISLE OF TRIALS, the branding Marzio has worked so hard for. The near-miss seems deliberate.

Of the questionable choices Ian has made recently, this is... It's not the most questionable, because holy hell that would be a high bar to clear, but it's definitely on the list. He's done a very good job of hiding or minimizing the appearance of injury with a coat buttoned all the way to hide the bandages on his left shoulder, but it doesn't take long to notice how heavily he favors his left arm right now, using his left hand for things only when necessary, and always quite gingerly. Also, as a freshly minted 30 year old, he's an old man now. It's all downhill from here.

If 'don't drink the liquor and don't maybe drink too much of the liquor and don't display the talent for profane drinking songs that every Islesman learns practically at birth' was a test, Ian bombed it. Part of it probably has to do with dulling the pain in his shoulder, of course, but he really does seem more comfortable on ships, for all the trouble he has keeping his balance on a pitching deck he can't feel under his feet. However! If 'display a fantastic alcohol tolerance and sail circles around sober people while drunk' is a test, that's another story.

By the time they actually get to the Isle of Trials, he's mostly laid off the whiskey, and appears sober, if uncertain on his feet in the shifting sands of the beach, as they disembark.

Ryhalt seems happy as can be on the sail over to the island. While he accepts a drink, he refrains from becoming tipsy or worse. Chuckling, he outright refuses to sing, no one wants to hear him try! He makes small talk along the way, but otherwise sticks to the rail, enjoying the trip.

He steps off the rowboat, smiling. He looks along the beach and towards the forest beyond. "I suppose the first trial is shelter for the night?"

Jamie, for one, is on-deck neither drinking, nor singing, but rather he's found himself a quiet piece of deck for the first part of the voyage and has his equipment laid out. It is the equipment of a seasoned scout - though someone obviously more used to the forest environment, than others. Two lengths of rope, along with a hook, a flask of olive oil, and some other, more common, accouterments, like torches and a flint and steel. The most unusual? A bag of chalk pieces. Each piece is counted and then stowed in the big Greenmarcher's backpack, and then his armor is set to being cared for. And then finally, his weapon. It's only after these rituals have been completed that the man joins the others. He still walks with a limp, favoring one side over the other as he joins the others at the railing. He, too, takes a couple turns at songs, but he does refrain from drinking. Partly because he is /also/ not a mariner, and there's a couple times that the Greenmarcher leans over the side railing, looking almost as green as his cloak. He manages not to give in to the urge to chum the waters though, but the big man does mutter something about disliking boats. When the rowboat pushes ashore (finally), he looks utterly, utterly relieved.

Ian gets ugly, singed, stained, multicolor scarf from Oiled leather bag.

"Quite the contrary, my new friend," Marzio comments in a friendly aside to Ryhalt as the man suggests shelter for the night is to be the first of their trials. "I have discovered something far more fun for your trial. In fact, far more fun than even my own trial was. I had mine on the beach outside the city! Imagine if I'd put so little effort into this!" Marzio for sure fell into his own trap and partook of far too much of the liquor on the trip over, given how loud his voice carries on the otherwise still and silent night of the beach.

Ezra earns himself a sharp look from the Mazetti lord and says, "Isle of /Trials/ Lord Riven. Don't make me fail you and send you back to the ship before we ever get started!" He reaches out and pats Jamie's shoulder, clearly thinking the Greenmarch man is happy to be ashore before he swings his hand around in a 'come along' manner and walks away from the shore. Once they are nearing the edge of the forest, Marzio stalls and turns back to the others who are by now becoming too dim to truly make out anyone's expressions.

"As I said, no. We will not be settling down in a shelter for the night. Rather, the night shall serve as the sands in your hourglass," he explains to the group, totally not looking directly at any of them in the darkness. "I have discovered a reference to a long buried treasure that I believe is found on this very island. My squire found it digging about in the Archives of Vellichor, and now I deliver it to you. Find the treasure and return to me here on this beach before the sun rises into the sky, and I will personally vouch for your entry into the Society of Explorers. Tarry too long or die in the woods and... well... you don't make it in. Are there any questions?"

Ian has seemed pretty good humored so far, but he does turn serious once it's time to ask questions. One oddly specific question. "Are you going to jump us with anyone you don't want hurt or dead?" The question comes fast enough, and with enough focus, that it's a fair bet this has been an issue somewhere before in his life.

"Ah, yes, Trial Island," Ezra nods sagely to their tour guide, apparently prioritizing needling Marzio over any threats of getting sent back to the ship already. "How silly of me, how could I forget?" As for questions, he raises a brow. "Yes... yes, I have questions. What exactly was the reference in the archives of Vellichor? How ancient or modern is this treasure? Unless the withholding of that information is part of this. Following up with my lord's question," A gesture at Ian there, "Is this island expected to be uninhabited, such that something greater might be amiss if we find signs of others?"

Ryhalt laughs heartily as Marzio says no to his question and inclines his head in acceptance. "Palamon's going to be so jealous I'm exploring at night without him." He doesn't seem concerned about the premise. "Do we get to view this scrap so we can take a guess to where the treasure may lie or the nature of it or its protection?" He clarifies on Ezra's questions with a nod.

Jamie does /indeed/ look grateful to be off the ship, though the smaller rowboat is far worse - at least it's over quickly. He stands by, listening to Marzio's indication of what their task was to be. "Is there anyone we shouldn't..." And then Ian asks that very question. The Greenmarcher gives the Kennex Lord a glance, then shrugs. "...kill or seriously injure in the woods?" Otherwise, the big man is silent, and seems to have only one other question, "I assume, then, that this will be the meeting point to pick us up when dawn breaks?" Because if it is, the Greenmarcher starts collecting driftwood and building a rather long-lasting fire there on the beach, while Marzio breaks down the rest of the test about the treasure. But finding their way back, potentially pursued by an enemy, seems to be on the Greenmarcher's mind if anyone asks. It's a fair enough bet that /that/ has been an issue in his past.

"Ahhh, no, Lord Greenmarch. I'll take care of building my own fire out on the beach to guide you back," Marzio says, halting Jamie before he can get overly far in the process of building that large fire. Bringing his gaze back around to Ezra as if he were going to answer the Riven's questions first, Marzio opens his mouth and then closes it without saying anything and turns his gaze to Ian. "Very good question. No, to my knowledge there is no one that will be assailing you in the dark, and if they do I can assure you that it is not part of this test. Feel free to terminate them without mercy...." Here there is a stall before he clarifies, "I should say that I do not know the nature of this treasure, so if it is something truly manic inducing and your fellows turn upon you once it is retrieved, those attempting to steal the treasure immediately fail. Control yourselves, gentlemen." There is definitely a glance toward Ezra as if he would be the culprit.

"And finally, Duke Ryhalt, yes. You may see this reference. In fact, I will entrust it to you personally and you may choose to share it with the rest or to act as the guide of this expedition into the unknown. Choose wisely, and remember you are being tested as a group. When you are sent into the field you will be part of a larger whole. You are allowed to work together," Marzio says, reaching and pulling forth an extremely old looking scrap of parchment, folded carefully, and extends it across to Ryhalt.

Ian is probably listening as Marzio talks, but at the same time, he's scanning the coastline, looking up at the stars. One or twice he looks down at his cane, which has a compass set into the head, under thick, reinforced Saik glass.

Ezra checks wits and survival at normal. Ezra is successful.

Ryhalt checks intellect and survival at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Jamie checks intellect and survival at normal. Jamie marginally fails.

Ezra rolls his eyes at the control-yourselves so hard he might be at risk of spraining something, but it overall seems rather fond. "How do you even survive outside captivity, Marzio?" This however seems a rhetorical question, and he sets about securing a torch from his supplies, striking a flint rod against a little bit of kindling until the pitch end of the torch catches. It crackles merrily when the fire catches. Let there be light.

Ian has one fully functional hand, and that hand is currently holding a cane, so he's going to be relying on other people to carry his dead weight in the torch department. He watches the making and lighting of torches with interest, however.

Jamie has a little bit of difficulty with his torch, a sudden gust of wind blows the sparks right into the big man's face, nearly catching beard on fire in /addition/ to the torch. In the sudden kerfuffle that follows, said torch is dropped as the big man's beard is quickly, suddenly and fiercely put out before it's savory deliciousness can singe the rest of the Greenmarcher's long locks. "Whew. That was closed. We almost had more light than I bargained for."

Ryhalt looks curious as Marzio halts Jamie from building a fire, but to see anything in the darkness they *did* need a fire of some sort. He accepts the scrap, saying, "Thank you. It's best we all be aware of this basic knowledge in the event I become incapacitated." So he sets to pulling out his torch and flint, lighting it. He holds the information they've been giving so all may read it, safe out of the way from any stray sparks from their torches as it seems frail.

Marzio watches as the group begins to move into action, his demeanor perhaps noticeably less outspoken and 'drunken' as he backs away until the first torch is lit, then he turns and heads back toward the water and the rowboat.

As Ezra and Ryhalt's torches and Jamie's beard bring the warm glow of fire to pierce the darkness, the words on the parchment can be made out. Appearing to be in verse, the parchment reads...

Welcome to the isle of trial and strife,
where one false step may cost your life.
A treasure here, there is to be found,
but to only the worthy may riches abound.

Look not to shores of pristine white sand,
conquer the darkness and head inland.
Beware the silence, tread light of foot,
mind your ally or they’ll stay put.

Follow you the sound of thunder,
choose well your path and go under.
You’ve made it this far, halfway there,
perhaps you’ve brains beneath that hair.

Look to symbols, carved of old,
follow their path through the fold.
Further in, don’t grow weary yet,
you’re almost there, one last hurdle set.

Look not to the heavens, nor east and west
instead go south if directions aren’t your best.
All the way south, the treasure is found,
beneath the tiny mountain underground.

"Fuck. Another fucking poem." Ian's not using his left hand for much, but he does use it to pinch the bridge of his nose. This is, for the moment, his contribution to the endeavor.

Ezra peers in as the light from the fires illuminates the mysterious words, hmm'ing thoughtfully at the contents. "So inland it is... minding all our friends so that no one gets stuck somewhere? A sound, maybe under ground or under something else... follow the symbols to the south. Easy enough." He makes a vague, one handed gesture. "Or, rocks fall and everyone dies. You never know. Inland, gentlemen, shall we?"

Jamie reads the verse for a long moment, then says, "It seems simple enough, yeah? Quicksand ahead. Listen for sounds of a waterfal, we're halfway there. Then some kind of symbols marking a path, and if you get lost go south." The big man offers a shrug.

"These fucking things never mean what they seem to," Ian grumbles, still unhappy about the poem. "And you never figure it out until it's too late. Let's stick together and keep our eyes out."

Ryhalt chuckles at Ian's comment. "It seems a fairly simple one, however." His wry grin says that not everything that seems so is so. "He nods to Ezra and Jamie's thoughts on what it meant. "Quicksand, cobwebs, or grabby plants." That last one is said somewhat delicately considering what has recently transpired in Arx itself, let alone Pieros before. "We seem to have a few injuries here, too, so if you need help let's not be shy?" He tucks away the scrap safely in his pack in case they need to reference it in the future and sets off towards the forest.

Jamie follows the rest of the group, taking care to watch their steps and look out for said grabby things. Just in case, he's taken out a piece of rope from his pack and slung it over a shoulder, so that it can be thrown quickly, should the need arise. And a walking stick, because he /is/ walking on an injured leg, as Ryhalt mentions.

"The good news is that it's not like a grabby plant can stab me twice through the shoulder." Yes it can, Ian. It totally can. "This is supposed to be a treasure map, so deadfalls are also on the table. Wouldn't be the first time." He follows along with the others, making an accidental rearguard by virtue of the fact that he's just a little bit slower than everyone else due to needing to keep an eye on the ground under his feet to avoid tripping on things he can't feel. Although maybe not that much slower than limping Jamie.

As the group moves beyond the first twenty or so strides from the beach, it becomes clear to them just how dense the forest is on this island! The canopy of the treetops far above soon enough smother what faint light from the stars was there before, pitching the group into complete and total darkness save for the warm glow from the torches three of the group carry.

The going is tough, to say the least. Even though the fire from the torches casts a warm glow, each step from the individual carrying it causes that light to bob and flit about, casting ominous shadows at times that almost seem to leap out at the men as they make their way as best they can through dense underbrush and trees that always seem to be just a touch too close and too easy to bump into.

Ezra checks composure at easy. Ezra is successful.

Ian checks composure at easy. Ian is successful.

Ryhalt checks composure at easy. Ryhalt is successful.

Jamie checks composure at easy. Jamie is successful.

Ezra is happier about everything once they're in the woods. Not that he was unhappy before, but his mood seems to lift around trees, much moreso than at the coast, standing there at the water's edge. He is careful not to set any branches on fire by accident as they travel, and proves a considerate companion by not letting any foliage he passes just thwap back after him and smack the next guy in the head.

The care with which Ian's disability, the one that he didn't get by being stabbed by an evil shrubbery, requires him to take with walking is a great help in counteracting a lot of the issues with jumping shadows and reaching trees. He's way too focused on not tripping on that rock over there to worry about it.

Ryhalt walks along as if he's used to being out and about in the forest in the darkness. Odd for a merchantile Duke. The way the shadows act in this place make him tilt his head slightly, squinting somewhat as he tries to figure out if it's a troublesome sign or just a really, really weird place in the world. The world was full of those. So far he doesn't seem too alarmed.

Jamie, too, proceeds carefully as he moves through the thick underbrush. The wound on his hip does cause him to move slower than the rest of the group, his left foot occasionally getting tangled in underbrush as it doesn't naturally lift quite as high as the right, for the moment at least. He, too, seems far more comfortable in the forest than on the beach. He does pause every once and a while to take stock of where they're at, and tries to bend and snap branches pointing towards the direction they've come from, rather than just go /through/ everything.

Ryhalt checks perception and survival at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Jamie checks perception and survival at normal. Jamie is successful.

The group continues to make their way and the forest doesn't seem to be showing any chance of growing lighter, so dense is the canopy overhead. The darkness presses in on the travelers, only beat back by the glow of those torches. Similar to the darkness, the quiet seems almost physical like a very heavy blanket interrupted only by the snap of branches from errant steps and the swish of branches pushed aside.

Ryhalt happens to take the lead, given their injuries. His stride is confident until he sees something just along the edge of the torchlight that gives him pause. "Wait. Quicksand ahead. Anyone hear thunder yet? I don't, so any way around this seems good to me." He glances towards the others to check if they've seen or heard anything to determine a better direction than forward.

"Heard something off to the side," Jamie calls out, softly. At night, in the forest, sounds sound louder than they are, and seem like they carry further in the darkness. He doesn't reach out a hand to point, just quietly says, "Sounds like something ran off through the woods to the right." He holds his torch to his left side and a little bit behind his face, peering off into the darkness for a moment before resuming to keep up with the group. And keep an eye on the ground as he moves.

"Might be a deer track that way," Ian suggests. "The animals have to have figured out a way through this."

Ezra stoops down to pick a long branch up off the forest floor, and proceeds in walking to test the firmness of the ground before committing to steps. Poke poke. Step. Pole poke. "I agree," he says to Ian, "Let's find a game trail to navigate around it, the path will be easier and safer that way."

Ezra checks perception at normal. Ezra marginally fails.

Ryhalt checks perception at normal. Ryhalt marginally fails.

Jamie checks perception at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ian checks perception at normal. Ian is successful.

In one of his pauses from looking at the ground to keep from tripping, Ian squints up into the trees for a moment. "Is that a sna -- no, that's a branch. Might be able to, uh..." He stops, looks at the others. "Nobody tell Zoey I suggested this. Might be able to swing across, avoid the ground completely."

Jamie looks up at the branch that Ian mentioned, nodding, "I agree. It /looks/ sturdy enough to hold us, one by one. The swinging though... I've got a hook. We could toss it across and get it set firmly, then just pull ourselves across. Might be easier than just swinging across. If nothing else, we might be able to hook our belts to the rope and take the weight off our arms. Whichever you think might be better?"

Ian eyes Jamie. "I'd rather not risk losing my pants. I can put most of my weight on my right arm. But this stays here. I'll never stop getting shit for it if anyone finds out."

Ezra checks strength at normal. Ezra is successful.

The plan is delivered and it seems sound enough. The quicksand pit seems to be only fifteen feet or so across, at least as best as one can see from over here. Ezra decides it is a good idea to get some light on the other side, and the big strong Riven man manages to toss his torch across the pit to touch down quite solidly on the dirt floor on the other side, bathing the landing zone in light.

Now all that is left is to swing, to fly, in truly epic fashion.

Jamie checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ian checks strength and athletics at normal. Ian is successful.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Ezra checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Ezra is successful.

There were key aspects of this plan that Ian didn't think through. Most of it goes great. He even manages to, as expected, mostly support his weight with his right arm, taking the strain off his left shoulder. But then there's the dismount. The fact that there's no way he's going to keep his balance hitting the ground at speed. The fact that his legs are just going to fold under him. The fact that, like an idiot, he rolls in such a way that would be a very safe landing except he lands on his left shoulder. The end result of all of this is that he rolls onto his back and just takes a minute while everyone else swings across so the color can come back to his face.

When it's Jamie's turn to the rope, the Greenmarcher runs at an angle and swings himself across in a circle - because that'll hurt less on his injured leg than flying straight up... and then straight down. His angle takes him to the edge of the light and he does what might gently be called, 'a running dismount into a hard object', where, rather than taking a tumble and further tearing his still fresh hip open he chooses to stop himself with the most convenient object he can find - namely the trunk of a large tree. He manages to not /quite/ faceplant into it, but he does shoulder check it with enough force to rebound. Standing up straight as his momentum is robbed of him.

"Just like I planned it." He limps a little more heavily for a few minutes, but seems none the worse for wear.

Ryhalt laughs, grinning at the idea of swinging across the pit. It was crazy and dangerous. He liked it. He may be many years from his days as a sailor, but he proves he can still climb a rope and swing across. Happily the torch didn't blow out in the process but it had flared wildly along with his hair. Setting his hair on fire would have been...bad.

Ezra succeeds in illuminating the landing spot and stands there with his hands on his hips like yeah, good job Ezra, until he thinks about it a moment longer. "....Nobody land in the fire, okay," he clarifies the plan. Getting Ian up to speed for the swing is a whole other project, but as much as he seems not a people person, there's an unashamed way he goes about assisting the Kennex lord to liftoff -- this is NO TIME FOR HESITATION so it's just like shove, godspeed Ian. But hey, he got there didn't he?

On his own turn on the swing-across, there's a bit of a smile. "Just like swinging across the water around the Twainfort..." wheeee!

Jamie checks perception and survival at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ezra checks perception and survival at normal. Ezra is successful.

Ryhalt checks perception and survival at normal. Ryhalt fails.

Ian checks perception and survival at normal. Ian is successful.

Ryhalt checks composure at normal. Critical Success! Ryhalt is spectacularly successful.

"That was really stupid," Ian says from the ground, most of the pain gone from his voice, before slipping his cane out of its loop on his belt and laboriously picking himself up again. It takes a couple of tries, but he gets to his feet. The post getting up scan of the trees draws him up short, however. "Oh. That's not good."

Jamie spends a bit of time 'walking off' that running jump. Enough so that it takes him a minute to hear something in the distance. "Do you hear that?" He asks in his rough baritone. "Sounds like... a dull roar. Distant thunder." He pauses for a long moment, trying to locate the direction the sound is coming from but soon realizes that it seems to be directly ahead of them."

"I hear it," Ezra confirms with Jamie, picking up his torch again before it sputters out or sets the forest on fire. "It sounds straight ahead, to me? I don't actually hear anything else, truth be told... what's not good?"

"Half the forest probably knows we're here by now." Ian motions with his cane towards the trees.

Ryhalt turns his head towards some sound, but the torch is as much enemy as friend in the dark. He can't see a thing. "Well, if it's a predator, it's a crappy one that's going to starve tonight." He says with a cheerful bravado despite Ian looking in the same way and saying it's not good. "Say," he shrugs to Jamie, but as Ezra chimes in to hearing it too, he says, "Straight ahead? How lucky, let's go!" He resumes the lead despite whatever critter may be out there. They have torches and weapons. How bad could it be?

"Look at it this way - all of us still have our pants." Jamie says, scanning the darkness for signs of whatever Ian had mentioned, but the other man's instincts /do/ have the big man pulling his sword free of its scabbard. Because it's dark, and /who knows/ what might be in here with them. "And yeah - I think it's coming from straight ahead. A bit hard to determine in the woods, at night, but... best I can make out." He resumes the order from before, but follows a little more carefully now. With enough space to swing his sword.

What's not good is soon to reveal itself, for as Ian voices the fact that half the forest knows they're here now, there is a sudden low grunting and then a loud squeal before the undergrowth explodes in a flurry of activity. Barreling through the brush directly toward the group of would be explorers comes what is surely a mother and father boar, both insanely mad that these fools have intruded so foolishly upon their den. The mother is nearly hip high while the father is only slightly smaller. On they both come, tusks glinting in the dancing firelight.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ian is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Critical Success! Ryhalt is spectacularly successful.

Ezra checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ezra is successful.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Ezra before departing.

The boars' wild charge is largely fruitless, their element of surprise foiled by all of the grunting and squealing. The explorers manage to evade the charging beasts, and the confident Ryhalt manages to step aside at just the time he is passing a rather large trunked tree, the poor papa boar slamming headfirst into the trunk.

Jamie checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Ian is successful.

Ryhalt checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Ezra checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Ezra is successful.

"I know that sound." Ryhalt muses, only a small check in his stride as he continues moving forward. "That's the sound of *bacon*! Can we agree that the oh-so-ancient scrap told us that the treasure is bacon?" Thankfully it seems the Duke hasn't gone completely brainless-confident over bacon, unstrapping his spear. Who knows, maybe he hunts boars for fun?! Spears aren't meant to be wielded with a torch in the other hand, so he drops the torch somewhere. Fire hazard! He leaps to the side to evade the incoming boar and lunges out with his spear towards one of their flanks as they start to charge by.

Not that Ian has anything against a couple of boars, but he's a terrible runner. He draws the alaricite sword out of his cane at the very last minute, practically in the middle of the cut, while at the same time sidestepping the charge of the boar that DOESN'T faceplant into a tree, using it's own momentum to create most of the power in his attack. It's lazy, but effective.

Jamie calmly steps aside from one of the boars as it barrels past him, whipping his bastard sword around in an arc targeted at one of the boar's flanks. "I do like crispy bacon. I could be content with that treasure." He seems to put a little more gusto than is /strictly/ necessary as he goes after the boars though. Like he's settling an old grudge, from some time past. As soon as the fighting starts, though, the man's wounds are forgotten in the heat of the moment, and he's as nimble as he needs to be.

Ezra was just brightening up at Jamie's excellent outlook that they DO all still have their pants when all sorts of hell breaks loose! Boars! Squealing tusky bristly scary boars! You know what's exactly the WRONG weapon to fight boars with? A dagger. yes. But that's what Ezra has so hey, he is going to make this work, with an efficiency that suggests it might not be the first time he's done this. "Please, don't be ridiculous, the treasure is not bacon!" he protests. "...there is no time to cure it. The treasure is pork."

The poor papa board never stood a chance. That fabulous dodge from Ryhalt and the hard thud of the boar's head into the tree trunk results in it being stunned for far too long given the sudden flurry of weaponry that appears. Ryhalt and Jamie are able to dispatch the male boar easily enough, while Ian and Ezra manage to wound the mother with garish wounds to each of her sides. With a squeal of rage, she disappears into the underbrush once more. The sounds of her rumbling around the explorers are evident, the branches and bushes shaking with her trajectory until she springs back out, charging both Ian and Ezra with wild fury.

Ezra checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ezra marginally fails.

Ian checks dexterity and dodge at normal. Ian is successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Jamie is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and medium wpn at normal. Ian is successful.

Ezra checks dexterity and small wpn at normal. Ezra is successful.

Ryhalt checks strength and huge wpn at normal. Ryhalt marginally fails.

Ian continues his tradition of the world's laziest style of fencing, something anyone who'd seen his lazy guard in the training center would probably expect right now. Once again, the sidestep uses exactly as much movement as is required to get away and not an ounce more and it even looks like he's moving slowly, although in these frantic seconds that can't really be the case. Jamie seems to have the dispatching of the boar in hand, so he cleans his sword off, instead. With all the expertise of a successful weapon roll.

Ryhalt lets out a breathless laugh at Ezra appealing to reason. "But...bacon..." He pokes the one boar to make sure it's dead and squints into the darkness as the other charges away. When it returns he doesn't get such a lucky shot in, but his isn't a weapon that works well when others on his side have shorter weapons. He mostly waits to see if it'll try to run away from them again if they don't kill it first.

Jamie performs the coup de grace on the boar, skewering it through the side with his bastard sword like it was a boar spear. The big not-quite two-handed sword serves well enough though, and the big man seems more than content to run the beast through. "Don't think I've forgotten!" Is he... talking to the boar? Yes. Yes he is. With a tug he pulls his sword free, and then turns to go look for Ezra, offering the man a hand if he needs one. Quicksand isn't really all that quick, usually.

Ezra experiences the full wrath of the Perilous Pork by getting full on-head butted, which is perhaps not a great surprise given how that all of them are behaving like unsupervised pre-teens given access to an adult-free island where good choices are completely optional. He lands with a 'whomp' in the shallows behind the group in a manner completely lacking in grace, dignity or charm, accompanied by an "AH, SHIT, WHAT" that will definitely let the forest know they're there if somehow the squealing and stabbing didn't already drive that home. Grateful for Jamie's hand up, he dusts off his ass and clambers back to his feet, ready to go onward! A grin, "Thanks."

As the two boars lay bleeding out, the breath leaving their furry bodies, one surely wonders if they were just defending a den of baby piglets over there somewhere in the darkness that will suffer on alone.... Who're we kidding? We're after treasure. As silence once again reclaims the night, the sound of that distant rumbling can be heard off in the distance by all now, marking the way forward per the poem that guides them.

Ryhalt with a forlorn sigh he gives up on the boar corpses since they don't have time nor hands to carry it. He collects up his torch once more and continues on towards the roaring sound.

Ian sheathes his sword back into his cane, turning it back into a mild mannered walking implement. "Okay, I hear it now." He, too, gives all that tasty boar meat a last look, before following along behind their extremely fearless leader (and everyone else, because he's slow).

Jamie nods to Ezra as he helps the man up, then starts cleaning his sword almost without the man thinking about it, though he does mention, "The blood and carcasses might draw scavengers. We should probably be wary of a different foe on the way out." He turns to listen to the falls again though, this time hearing them more clearly. "I don't think they're that far away? Or maybe the sound is strange, in the forest." His sword is returned to its scabbard once it's free of blood and any bits of anything else.

Ezra searches around for wherever his torch went when he went ass over teakettle fighting hostile hogs, and takes a moment to dip it into Ryhalt's torch to re-light it. "I wonder if the treasure will still be there when we arrive past the rumbling, and the carvings, and all of that? I mean, if we can find it..." He's not saying they're maybe idiots but he is also not NOT saying that.

That distant rumbling grows louder the longer the group follows it's sound through the dark wood. What began as a faint noise is soon a long and consistent roar that is revealed to be a waterfall falling from high above to crash into the large pool before them. The pool gives way to a river that rushes off to the east and a tree has fallen providing a nice bridge that leads further off in that direction. That certainly seems to be the obvious path forward, as all that is before them is that deep pool of water and a shoreline made of large and uneven rocks slippery with the mist of water that has settled onto them.

Ryhalt stops at the edge of the river near the base of the waterfall. Though he holds the torch out as far as his arm can reach, it seems their path is relatively straightforward. "Sounded like we needed to go beneath the waterfall? Or find a cave?" The taps the tree with a booted foot.

Ian fishes his flask out of an inner pocket of his coat and takes a long drink, and then another one, while surveying the roaring waterfall. He's definitely having a good time, but that doesn't mean that the trip through the forest didn't take something out of him, and he's showing the beginnings of tension in his face that suggests his shoulder is hurting a little too much to be easily ignored. While sober. Hence: More bad decisions. "What did the poem say about the waterfall? If it said I have to walk across that tree, I'm screwed."

"Follow you the sound of thunder, choose well your path and go under," Ezra recollects the poem, and peers uncertainly at the deep pool before them. "...Swimming? Or perhaps there's something behind the falls?" He shakes his head at Ian. "I don't think you have to walk the tree. But that's not ruling out Still Screwed, so we've got that going for us."

"Hrm. Choose well your path." Jamie looks towards the fallen tree that /appears/ to offer a nice bridge. "And go under." He paces around the edge of the shoreline with a torch, though, searching for something else. Looking for a way to get under the falls /without/ necessarily braving the likely treacherously slippery, jagged rocks. "I'm willing to bet that 'under' doesn't mean under the water. Behind the falls maybe? But I don't trust the obvious route of the tree. That seems... too convenient."

Jamie checks perception at normal. Jamie marginally fails.

Ryhalt checks perception at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

Ryhalt grimaces in sympathy with Ian and continues to look for a better way across for his sake. After a while he points out what seems to be a ledge along the cliff which disappears under the waterfall. "Let's try that instead? I agree, it doesn't seem we need to go swimming just yet... can't tell from here, but there may be something behind the waterfall."

"It's going to be a miserable rest of the trip if we're going swimming." Ian takes a last drink and puts the flask away. "I've done the long slog in sopping clothes, and it's not something I go out of my way to repeat. Maybe we're supposed to go under the log." He says this with absolutely no conviction while he surveys the log, because even he doesn't know how that would be supposed to work. The thing about the cliff seems like a much more reasonable option.

Ezra checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Ezra is successful.

Ian checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Ian is successful.

It's worth pointing out that the team has missed an opportunity here to tell Ezra he SHOULD go swimming, while everyone else proceeds with a more reasonable plan. But alas, Ryhalt has spotted a ledge and the moment is lost. "Let's check it out then, shall we?" he decides, and then proceeds to follow his own advice, clambering up the cliff edge and proceeding forward, not recklessly, but not as slowly as he should either.

Ryhalt checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Critical Success! Ryhalt is spectacularly successful.

Jamie checks dexterity and athletics at normal. Jamie is successful.

It's slow going for the big Greenmarcher as he clings to the rock face. There's several missteps, and he starts to look like he's almost dragging his left leg behind him at a few points as he inches along. It's a thing of inches, mostly, because he takes a /while/, but eventually makes it crawling along the ledge.

As Ezra takes the lead and begins the climb up the ledge, it is clear that it isn't an easy path or for the faint of heart. Not only is the stone beneath them slipper, but there is not really anything to hold onto given how narrow the walkway is. The easiest manner of travel seems to be standing and facing out away from the cliff and resting your back against the stone, shuffling sideways along until all one can see is the immense flow of water before and the cliff behind. The path is the same for somewhere near twenty feet, and then the stone wall falls away to an immense cavern that seems to dead end.

Ian hangs back a little bit, waiting for Jamie to be clear before even attempting his own slow creep along the ledge. He's suddenly gotten a lot more serious -- which is to say not nervous, but calm. Leaving aside the exaggerated care with which he picks every step, easing his weight onto each foot to make sure it's not going to slip, he seems unconcerned, his bearing surprisingly relaxed. Just... really, REALLY focused. He exhales slowly once safe on the other side, and out comes the flask again.

Ryhalt waits patiently for the others to cross, but not because he is scared of heights or is hoping for insight on the way it seems. He practically walks across like the ledge and no hand holds is nothing. Slippery rocks? Please. It seems that coming from a home with lots of cliffs on the shoreline *finally* comes in useful. That smile on his face says everything about how much fun he's having. It does help that he is rather lean, so other than his backpack doesn't have bulk to worry about. He sticks his hand out into the water at points, laughing as his hand gets batted down. No one tell his family! Once he joins them in the cave, he helps searching about with his torch. "If this is the right place there has to be a way through."

Jamie checks intellect and survival at normal. Jamie marginally fails.

It's a little bit of a harrowing trip, truth be told, across that tiny ledge! Ezra hasn't expressed any concern, but he looks demonstrably relieved when Ian appears, exhaling a breath! One hand stretches out to touch the cave wall. "Look to symbols, carved of old, follow their path through the fold. Maybe there's a crevice somewhere... or something. Carvings to be searched for first I suppose. Who has a light?"

Ian takes the last remaining torch out of his pack, the one he never lit earlier because he didn't have an easy way to carry it, and hands it over. To Jamie. Who's just gonna light his beard on fire anyway, so there's a demonstration of Ian is not a smart guy.

Jamie comes in, his torch now discarded on the shoreline below - scaling that cliff required the big man to use /both/ hands, and digs a second out of his pack and, gingerly attempts to light it. Flame! Wait, TOO MUCH FLAME! The oil-soaked cloth that covers the head of the torch to keep it from getting the head wet has held in the fumes, and with a WHOOSH there goes Jamie's eyebrows. "I... obviously... do not pray to Lagoma enough." The Greenmarcher turns to the others, his torch showing clearly that both eyebrows have only burnt away in the middle, leaving the ends to the left and right now completely fine. Jamie has four eyebrows, instead of two. "Is it bad? Tell me it's not bad."

Ryhalt checks perception and investigation at normal. Ryhalt is successful.

"It's not bad!" Ezra promises Jamie with a thumbs up and a grimace he can't help, one that says it's kinda bad yeah.

Ryhalt glances over at Jamie and chuckles. "It'll be all the rage this ball season." He nods convincingly, but has the look like he's trying not to laugh harder than his chuckling.

As the light of Jamie's beard illuminates the cavern, at first nothing of note becomes readily evident. It seems to be a medium sized cavern worn back into the cliff face, stretching back fifty feet before rounding out into a rough stone wall. The interior of the cave walls gleam with the dancing torchlight, slick with the mist from the falls outside.

Ian is just bringing his flask to his lips for one last drink when Jamie shows off his new look, and must have inhaled his drink because he starts wheezing and -- wait, no, that's laughter. That's nearly soundless laughter. He gives Jamie a thumbs up.

Jamie nods solemnly. Ezra and Ryhalt had him thinking it wasn't /that/ bad, but.... Ian's wheezing laughter tells him the real story though. It was /really/ bad. "Damn it. Not again." Wait. What? He doesn't elaborate on that further, instead looking for some way forward before he lights himself on fire in a much more meaningful way than his eyebrows or his beard.

Ian gives Jamie a light pat on the shoulder. "Eyebrows grow back." It's a sincere attempt to be reassuring, at least.

"You have to be kidding me." Ryhalt declares a while after he resumes his search near the rear of the cave. "Got some carvings here and they say 'climb'." Okay, so they don't really say that, but he points his torch towards a point near eye level on him given his height of 6'3"ish. "Unless Ezra has a handy ladder or something?" He sounds hopeful as it doesn't seem to be a climb that'd go well for those with arm and leg injures.

"Nooo... no, I don't have a ladder..." What even is the point of you then Ezra. "We had that hook earlier though. Perhaps it can be tossed up there and hooked up to something, allowing everyone to climb up with the rope?"

Ian checks intellect and occult at normal. Ian is successful.

Ezra checks intellect and occult at normal. Ezra is successful.

Ian casts his gaze at the short climb with a distinct lack of concern. "Nobody tell Zoey," he reminds everyone, before he takes a last, long pull from his flask. He surveys the markings while he drinks and gives the alcohol time to kick in. "It seems to be written in some sort of arcane lang --" He cants his head about 45 degrees. "Oh, wait. That's tic tac toe."

Wryly, Jamie murmurs to Ian, "I have some experience in this area, actually. They /do/ grow back, but they also take some time." And then he's inspecting the hole that Ryhalt is mentioning, and Ian mentions tic tac toe. "Are you sure?" He, too, cants his head to one side. "I don't see it. What did the poem say about the markings again? That we were supposed to follow them through the fold, or something like that?" He glances aside to Ezra, nodding, his head still at forty-five degrees. "I do still have the hook. We can use it to set a rope if we need. Could just boost each other up there, too, if there's enough space."

Ezra studies the drawings along with Ian, and seems to come to the same conclusion. "Who's got that chalk? X's almost won and it's going to bother me that it's not finished...!" It seems not to be a serious suggestion (though he also wouldn't say no to chalk), and he nods at Jamie. "Let's try boosting first and then we have the rope if we need it. Wounded up first and then Ryhalt and I can climb after?"

Ian nods to Jamie. "I know." He slips his flask into his coat again. "Someone who definitely wasn't me shaved off one of Wash's eyebrows as a prank once." He slips his cane back into the loop in his belt. "It's not a hard climb." Hopefully that's not the whiskey talking.

Ryhalt glances at Ian. "If I tried to tell her that I went exploring with you and at the end we found random scrawlings that amount to nothing more than tic-tac-toe, I think she may quietly unfriend me. Don't know I'd blame her. Is so tempting, however." He nods to the idea of boosting each other up. "Just be careful with your heads, not sure how much clearance you have up there." He wisely makes no comment to Ian claiming it's not a difficult climb, but crouches down to offer his hands for someone's foot to boost them up there.

Nodding, Jamie says, "I've got the chalk. My arms aren't wounded, either, so I can pull Ian up as you push from down below if you can get me up there." The four-eyebrowed man says. Just in case, he tosses his torch up into the hole a little ways, so that there's enough light up there. Just in case, the big Greenmarcher does dig out his bag of little chalk pieces, "This is what they're actually /for/ anyway. To mark passages through caves, so we don't get lost." He pockets a couple of them and then hands a few to the others. "In case we get split up, somehow." And then he's going up, using Ryhalt's hands as a booster, himself a little over six feet tall it shouldn't be hard to pull himself up and inside.

The strategy of wounded up first seems to be a solid one. Ian and Jamie are the first through the cleft in the rock. It isn't a particularly hard journey to manage, but it is a sort of short tunnel that must be crawled and wriggled through. Once the first person is through, they'll find themselves in a cave complex with five tunnels leading off of this main chamber. If Ian still has his cane with the compass upon it, he would know that one tunnel runs off to the east and another to the west, another to the north while the one they just crawled through is heading in a southern direction. All that remains is a sort of chimney that allows one to look far ahead to a tiny pinprick of lighter darkness that is the sky above the small mountain, and then a hole in the floor.

"For fuck's sake." Ian's a pretty compact guy, with most of his strength in his upper body, for obvious reasons. He grabs the ledge and, similar to how he did it with swinging on the rope, hangs almost all of his weight from his right arm, using the left just to steady things while he pulls himself up. He's spent a lifetime climbing around ratlines and rigging, guys. He doesn't land on his shoulder at the end of this one, and his coat's all buttoned up so if it's bleeding, nobody's the wiser. He does, indeed, have his cane with him, and once everyone's gathered at the crossroads, he peers at the compass. "South is that way." He points toward the exit Jamie is already circling with chalk. "Oh, you found it."

Ryhalt frowns lightly as Ian points the way to South and its the way they had come. "Uhh... did we miss it in the previous room? Or crawling along the way to here?" He thinks for a moment and says, "Is it really under the waterfall...in the water?"

"Didn't the poem have a mountain in it?" Ian asks.

Jamie has scooted down the passageway as soon as Ian doesn't appear to need any help, and, once he gets to the end, starts writing on the side of the wall. 'Exit' is written on one of the walls, with an arrow pointing back the way that they came. "No, no. I always mark the way we came /from/. Getting out of caves is easier than going in. Retracing your footsteps when everything looks the same becomes impossible. So I mark where I came /from/, not where I went /to/." The big Greenmarcher has obviously spent some time in caves, here and there. He nods in the direction that Ian is motioning them towards. "It makes sense, though, the poem said - if you get lost, look to the south. That's the way out. The thing we have to look for is underneath the little mountain underground."

Ian looks down at the hole in the floor. "I'm not sticking my arm in there."

Ryhalt checks intellect and riddles at normal. Ryhalt fails.

"We've got more than one torch, yeah? Let's drop one down. It should be getting light fairly soon." Jamie cranes his head up to look at the distant sky. "We won't need all these torches for long."

Ian checks wits and riddles at normal. Ian is successful.

Ian peers down at the hole as connections are made in his brain. Unholy connections. Connections that nobody, and especially not the GM, ever intended. "You know," he muses.

Ian says, "The bosun on the ship I served back when I was thirteen used to call someone's ass 'down south'. Specifically when he was going to put his boot there.""

Ian looks up. "Maybe it's literally down south." He points down.

"Oh, right... The little mountain underground." Ryhalt muses as he slides his eyes towards the hole in the ground. "Further down...? Unless anyone sees a mountain in here somewhere?" He glances at the walls for more drawings or something. Ian's musings give him pause and he glances over his shoulder. "So... down. Who are we throwing in first this time?" He grins cheerfully and walks over to the hole, peering down into it. "Maybe it's not that deep.

Jamie shakes his head at Ian. "I'm not sure how..." He looks at the hole. "Oh. Out through the ass. Definitely do not tell Natalia about this." He leans over the edge of the hole and waves a torch down below, taking a look at whatever might be down there. "I mean. I'll go first?"

Ian nods. "Yeah, I really don't want to go in there now."

As Ian voices his revelation about which direction south was pointing toward in the poem, it doesn't take long for that to at least seem like the most logical explanation. In short order, the team is able to use the remaining ropes to rig the Kennex lord up for a travel down the narrow shaft. The going it snug, to say the least. It'd be very easy to scrape an elbow. The men above are forced to man the rope, letting Ian down a bit at a time as handholds are few and hard to come by. If anyone were to dislike Ian, this would be a convenient way to get rid of him as it would be next to impossible to climb back out.

Down he goes, and then finally he reaches the bottom where the floor widens out only slightly, allowing for an uncomfortable crouch. Ian has just enough time to think that this was a wasted effort until he finally sees it. A beaten and banged old chest, resting against the stone wall without even a lock on it. There's just enough room to get the lid open and to reach inside. What he pulls forth is truly a wonder to behold. An enormous leather hat with a brim that stretches out far past the wearer's shoulders. Three multicolored feathers protrude from the band around the top and there sewn in the lining on the inside is, 'Property of M. Mazetti. Return to owner.'

"Good news, guys!" Ian shouts up from below. "The treasure isn't ants." When pulled up, he's wearing the hat, like a boss.