Thunderlizard Island
As the first born, and only, child of a relatively wealthy, if reclusive, family, Vincent had enjoyed every luxury in life. While she grew up far from civilization, her mother and father had still made sure she had all the trappings of wealth and power; the prettiest clothes, the finest foods and most importantly the best tutors their not inconsiderable assets could afford.
When she had demonstrated a talent for the arcane, they had spared no expense on her magical training, indulging her passion for wizardry with teachers and books, nurturing her talent in every way they could.
After spending her whole childhood on her home island, without any hope of seeing the rest of the world, she decided to leave her home and family. Not with bad intentions but probably forever. She realised that her parents where too scared of losing her to let her go, so she went on her own, breaking her family apart. Little did she know that her parents had every reason to stay hidden, and be afraid for her daughter’s safety.
Vincent never thought about her parents worries. Carefully she explored civilisation and quickly realised that her talents were rare and highly regarded. She was always cautious about the people she made deals with and ended up on a ship from a group of explorers, but the odds weren’t in their favour, the ship got wrecked in a storm and Vincent was on her own.
All of this had made this last month that she had spent shipwrecked on this godforsaken island more then a bit difficult for her to bear. And difficult to survive, quite honestly. It wasn't just the lack of civilized niceties, the native flora and fauna were extremely dangerous. Animals the sizes of houses with razor sharp teeth a foot long were not uncommon, and she didn't even want to think about the plants. And none of them were picky about what they ate.
While the large animals were dangerous, some of the smaller ones were doubly so. At least you could see and hear the large ones coming a mile away and they were mostly stupid as rocks. The raptor packs, those were a different story. They were smart, quiet and fast, and worked as a group, far more difficult to counter.
Still, Vincent was not only powerful in the magical arts, she was wicked smart and highly organized. She PLANNED. Her mother had claimed that her plans had plans, nestled inside. She'd quickly gauged the threats the island presented and had carefully and methodically constructed an organized response that used the resources at her disposal to counter them.
And so she survived. Fortunately the reef that had brought her ship to grief was only a half mile offshore and she had managed to salvage considerable supplies from it before the waves had battered it to pieces. She had figured out how to supplement the rations she had salvaged with fresh fruit from the edges of the jungle (harvested carefully in the early morning when most of the larger lizards were still lethargic), fish from the lagoon (but only when the water was clear) and shellfish from the beach.
The camp she had constructed was certainly no palace, but she had chosen the spot carefully and well, a spit of land not too far from the river for fresh water and isolated from the dangerous jungle by the lagoon on three sides. She had laid it out methodically, and kept it clean, tidy and organized. After a month here she was almost self sufficient and it was starting to feel like home.
Her magic had helped considerably of course. She rather thought that if she had been a more aggressive type of wizard she probably would have died on her first night, in some pointless contest of strength and fire with a lizard a hundred times her size. But, while she had certainly mastered the elemental arts, she considered them a trifle gauche and had always preferred the more subtle schools of magic. Her enemy's mind was always her chosen field of combat, and while these Thunderlizards were most impressive physically, they had brains the size of walnuts and were mostly easy meat for her skills.
Except for the damn raptors.
They had their own weaknesses to exploit though, if less obvious ones and she had figured an angle out eventually.
So all things considered. it was with surprisingly mixed feelings that she watched the sails of a ship emerge over the southern horizon. While she had hoped for rescue, and certainly had no desire to spend the rest of her life in this godforsaken place, a part of her had been enjoying the freedom, autonomy, and the fresh set of challenges the island had presented. Here she was beholden to no one but herself, and that desire for freedom was the main reasons she had run away from home after all.
As she calmly watched the ship anchor on the far side of the reef, and the jollyboat make it's way toward her camp, she squared her shoulders. resignedly "On to the next adventure" she thought to herself. "They're probably pirates anyway". she thought. "Likely have to take the ship over, or at least it's Captain."
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Ricmo waved cheerily to the tall half-elven woman who waiting for them on the beach, sizing her up with a practiced eye. She was dressed in robes of a foreign style that had at one time been expensive, though they were showing signs of abuse. Her carriage and quiet, confident demeanor spoke to him of money and power. The curiously carved staff in her hands was clearly magical. Some kind of upper class magic wielder, he decided, likely a wizard.
"Well met!" he cried across the narrowing water as the jollyboat made it's way to shore near her. "Well, if strangely met!". "My name is Captain Ricmo, of the good ship Lady Jezebel! We come in peace, seeking supplies, for an unfortunate incident has left us with a shortfall.
You wouldn't happen to have any rum would you?".
Vincent observed the crew of the jollyboat. She didn't know quite what to make of them. If they were pirates they were certainly the strangest pirates she'd ever seen.
At the very front of the boat, Ricmo the self proclaimed Captain seemed a cheerful, talkative halfling, smoking a cigar. He wore a brace of pistols across his leather armor and carried a short sword and dagger at his side. He balanced easily on the prow of the boat smiling and laughing with his companions as they approached the beach.
Next to him was a tall female elf in travel stained leather armor carrying a mighty bow, readied, with an arrow knocked. She also stood easily on the prow, balancing gracefully as the waves rocked the boat to and fro. Her cold grey eyes ceaselessly scanned her surroundings, the beach, the jungle, the lagoon, alert to any threat. She mostly ignored the halfling at her side, focused on potential dangers at hand.
Behind the woman was a male elf, with long, wild white hair forming a nimbus around his face. He wore a simple leather tunic and breeches and tall brown boots. Around his neck was a wide leather collar embedded with tortoiseshell beads and dangling teeth. He carried a simple oaken staff and wore a scimitar at his waist.
After the pair of elves were a pair of Tielfings, the demon blooded. One wore dark, nondescript robes, face half shrouded in a hood, dark, attentive eyes gleaming from within, the tip of a pointed tail poking out behind him. A rapier hung at his waist but no other weapons or gear were obvious.
If the first Tielfling was nondescript the second one made up for it. He wore what was possibly the loudest suit Vincent had ever seen, bright red, with huge exaggerated shoulders and flared pant legs. An equally loud red brimmed hat with a jaunty feather in the brim completed the outfit. The second Tielfling was also carrying a rapier but in addition a large guitar was swung across his back. He was heart stoppingly beautiful, unearthly handsome as the the Tielfling race often was. He smiled and joked back at the halfling.
Taking up the middle of the boat was what could only be a Tortle. Vincent had never seen one before, they were rare,, though she had read about them. The Tortle appeared to be a human sized bipedal turtle with an intricately carved shell. He carried a large iron rod with a lantern affixed to the top and his body and shell were crisscrossed with pouches, belts and bandoliers holding a collection of tools, ropes, bottles, and bits of miscellaneous clockwork. A red cape billowed behind him.
In the rear of the boat was what could only be a knight, in pristine gleaming full plate armor embossed with the symbol of the god Mithra both across the breastplate and the shield. The armor was so shiny it virtually glowed in the noon sun. The man had his helm off and flowing golden locks framed a simple honest face.
Next to the glowing figure, steering the boat, was what appeared to be his mirror image. A giant of a man in featureless black full plate armor, clad in black steel from head to toe. The massive black helm was firmly attached, revelated nothing of the face inside, and no words emerged from within it's dark depths to join the rest of his companions in chatter. A plain black steel shield bearing no device hung across the warriors back and a long hilted sword was strapped to his waist.
"Quite a collection, no doubt." thought Vincent. "Still, they seem to have peaceful intentions and if they can get me off this rock, I will take their arrival as a blessing."
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Dakhir looked over the orderly little camp. "So you're the only survivor?" he asked
"The only one still surviving, yes. There were others but they didn't make it through the first night. The animals here are aggressive and quite dangerous." Vincent replied.
"I saw what appeared to be extremely large lizards from the crows nest" observed Merus thoughtfully.
"The Thunderlizard's the crew called them. Some of them are VERY large" agreed Vincent.
"So you mentioned that you managed to save some casks of rum from your wreck?" interjected Ricmo. "Could we possibly have some of that? You would not believe how grumpy some of our crew get when deprived of rum".
"Certainly" answered Vincent. "Get me off this rock and I am happy to give you whatever supplies I have. Assuming I can trust you to not murder me the first chance you get?"
Radiant Lightbringer had been quiet as Ricmo and Dakhir had discussed Vincent‘s situation, but took this opportunity to interject himself.
"My lady, I swear to you on the light of Mithra by his holy name, we will inflict no harm upon you" he said gravely.
Vincent regarded the tall, shining cleric soberly, and then slowly nodded."
"Excellent!" said Ricmo. "So, we have agreed to be friends. Now, about that rum?"
"Something watches from the edge of the jungle" interjected Merus. "They are stealthy but they are there"
The companions all turned toward the edge of the jungle on the far side of the wooden fence Vincent had constructed. Merus pointed and after a moment a huge blue lizard, realizing it was seen, brazenly stepped out of the trees, fixing the party with bright intelligent eyes.. It was about the size of a man, and ran on two legs, but it's wide mouth was a nightmare of six inch long teeth.
"Raptor" said Vincent quietly. "By no means the largest of the Thunderlizard's but easily the smartest. They travel in packs, so if you see one there are guaranteed to be many more. They are terribly fast and quite dangerous. They continually test my defenses and alertness"
The raptor opened it's mouth, bobbed it's head and screamed at the party, a loud arrrrrrk of a cry.
"Territorial. Pack behavior" said Whisperleaf. "That one is challenging us, trying to assert dominance. Let me answer.
The druid stepped forward and his form rippled and changed. Where a man had stood before, now was a gigantic bear, easily nine feet high. The bear turned toward the raptor and roared back
The raptor and the bear locked eyes, and the bear reared up to it's full height and roared again. The lizard was big, but the bear was half again it's size, and it's roar was ferocious. The raptor dropped it's gaze and vanished back into the jungle.
The druid shimmered and returned to human form.
"So, about that rum..." asked Ricmo
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A little while later as Vincent watched the sailors of the Lady Jezebel load her hard earned supplies on to their longboats, she turned toward the druid.
"I don't understand why your Captain is quite so rum obsessed?' she asked. "I know sailors can be particular about their rations, but surely it's not the most important thing to be worried about right now."
"The sailors of the Lady Jezebel are a little...unusual" Whisperleaf replied. "While many of them are flesh and blood, like you and I, almost half are some form of magical construct that we inherited when we captured the ship. They require neither food nor water, nor pay, and are almost impossible to permanently kill but the one thing you must give them if you want them to keep functioning is..."
"Rum" finished Vincent. "Fascinating."
"She's a fascinating ship" agreed Whisperleaf. "Over five hundred years old, she dates back to the old Annwyn Empire. She has old, old magic sunk deep in her bones, most of which we don't really understand. But one thing is clear, her Jack Tar's drink prodigious amounts of rum and no one wants to find out what happens if they don't get it."
Vincent’s schooling had included much about the ancient Annwyn, she looked suitably impressed.
"I only managed to salvage a few barrels" Vincent pointed out. "I doubt it will be enough to quench an appetite such as you describe for long, and we are many days travel from inhabited islands."
Tello, who had been noticing their conversation, walked over.
"There is no more rum
I send this empty bottle
As simple hard truth"
He continued. "A Tortle could distill rum, if he had the raw ingredients. Sugar is needed. From the sugar cane plant it grows."
"Wouldn't that take a long time?" Freddy had noticed the conversation and joined in. "Doesn't it need to age a dozen years in special oaken barrels or something?"
The Tortle smiled a wide, toothless smile.
"Not if you care not about the quality, friend Bard" he grinned. "If you care less, a week can have you something that is drinkable. Barely. How do the humans say? 'This stuff will put hair on your chest?'"
"I know where there is some sugarcane" remarked Vincent. "It grows in the swamp up river."
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"WAIT!" shouted Vincent at the rapidly dwindling speck that was the eagle Whisperleaf had transformed into. "You don't have a plan! You don't understand. Some of those utterly huge, very aggresive lizards? They FLY!!!"
Dakhir shook his head woefully. He liked and respected his druid friend immensely but Whisperleaf certainly had an impetuous streak at times. The heroes had gathered to discuss the plan of distilling rum and excitement had mounted as the idea was tested and had seemed practical. Tello was convinced he could assemble the facilities he needed out of odds and ends he had on the ship. Whisperleaf had pointed out that with his magic he could easily raise earthen ramparts to protect the distillery from the native flora and fauna. The crew could chop down trees to feed the still and create wooden palisades on top of the ramparts to further deter unwanted visitors.
Somewhere in those discussions Whisperleaf had decided that scouting out the alleged location of the wild cane fields was probably a good next step. Vincent, who had been distracted in another conversation hadn't heard the druid's plan until he shape changed and took to the air . Now she stared in horror as the giant eagle flew up river.
"You'd think he'd have learned a lesson after the Alligator" Dakhir said to Vincent.
"You don't understand. It's really dangerous out there. You really need to think it through and have a plan" Vincent moaned.
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Whisperleaf didn't hear any of it of course, lost in the joy of flight. He had only mastered the flying forms recently and still found flying almost intoxicating. It was a beautiful, clear, sunny day, and as he sailed high above the jungle, he got an amazing view of the entire south side of the island
Whisperleaf had not really been expecting any trouble in his eagle form. Under normal circumstances, the giant eagle could out fly anything it couldn't out fight. But the wyvern had come diving at him out of the sun, and it had gotten way too close before he noticed it. And it was a lot bigger then him. It's crimson talons were six inches long and it's long barbed tail ended in a wicked point.
"Those things use poisons" he thought grimly.
Whisperleaf-the-eagle banked sharply, trading altitude for speed and narrowly avoided the Wyvern's swooping attack, As he wheeled he saw the Wyvern also turning sharply, coming back after him.
That thing was not only huge and scary, it was fast. As fast as he was.
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Merus shaded her eyes with one slender hand and looked intently upriver.
"The druid returns" she announced.
"Thank the gods" said Vincent, relieved.
"Don't thank them yet, friend, he's brought company"
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