I took the staff back up the zaratans’ shell to my home sweet hoard. It was a simple structure made from the ruins of the stronghold of the spellcaster that had trapped me here. Originally the stronghold had taken up almost the entire shell but I burnt down all the wooden walls in my frustration. Now all that remains
of the house is a metal
vault that had been secreted behind a false wooden wall in a closet. It is a
ten-foot-by-ten-foot-by-ten-foot iron cube with a heavy iron door. The door was
locked with a combination lock that took me a year of entering combinations
before I got it to open with 14-05-28. When the damn turtle submerged I spent
the decade breathing from a bottle of air I had found among the spellcasters
I opened the vault and placed the staff inside. I couldn’t make magic items, like many of my kin, but perhaps if I ever returned to Hell I could bring them with me to show off. I could make alchemical items at least and due to lightning striking the sand on the edge of the turtles shell I sometimes got globs of glass. I pulled the odd shovel that had washed ashore some years ago from its corner. I had to be careful and make sure when I dug not to put any pressure on the sharp crescent blade on the top of the handle of the shovel.
I decided to head to the opposite side of the shell from the cooks’ body. If any of his shipmates washed ashell too I did not want them to see me and realize I had killed him. I wanted someone to talk to not relentless battles. I got to the edge of the shell, where the sand settled outside the walls of the previous stronghold. The charred wood was washed away when the turtle took its fearful swim but the sand had yet to cross the boundary. I got bored long ago trying to find out why.
I did not find anything right away so I headed towards the beasts’ head. Around the first corner of the former stronghold I saw the clear swirl of lightning glass. I began digging when a dagger flew by my head. I turned to see a humanoid frog, no taller than myself, standing at the next corner ten feet away with another dagger.
“If you wanted my attention you could have just said hello.” I said testily.
“You killed Cookie.” The frog accused in a deep bass voice. Then he threw that dagger at me too. I side stepped it then rushed him.
“I did, like this.” I said clawing at the amphibian. My claws left slashes in his cotton shirt but I had not been expecting the leather armor underneath.
He pulled a rapier from behind him and stuck me with it. I raked my claws harder this time, slashing through the leather. “I just want someone to talk to.” I screamed in his face.
He flinched as he tried to poke me again with his blade. I took a deep breath hoping he would relent. Instead he slashed at me with the rapier and I dodged. Angrily I raked him again with my claws. The frog-man poked me again. I clawed it across the face and neck and it fell to the sand convulsing.
I turned and while I finished digging up the glass I had a thought. Perhaps I should hide on the turtles’ head for a bit. I would not get any conversation, the thing was most likely asleep as usual, but the shell was not that big and if any more of the cooks shipmates decided to hunt down whatever killed him I might be in trouble.
@@@@ Battle Rounds:
Grippli HP 11 AC 13
Dagger deals 1d3 damage
Rapier deals 1d4 damage
Ukobach HP 51 AC 17
Claws do 1d4-1 plus 1d4 damage
Round 2 – rapier does 3 damage to Ukobach, HP 48.
Round 2 – Ukobach deals 4 damage to Grippli, HP 7.
Round 4 - Ukobach deals 5 damage to Grippli, HP 2.
Round 5 – rapier does 1 damage to Ukobach, HP 47.
Round 5 – Ukobach does 5 damage, HP -3.