Otog

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby's head whirls and spins, reeling back to a place he long buried away and now rushing back up to the surface. To his horror, he realizes his stomach is growling rather than churning in revulsion. "Men at sea do... desperate things..." the old sailor mutters to himself in a voice that sounds distant and trails off. Coming to his senses again as his vision blurs but concentrates on remaining focused on the strange skull, Scarby turns to Kain and in a harsh whisper says, "aye lad, this be a monster who can not be allowed to live!"

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common The old sailor blanches at the thought of the nobleman's suggestion. Swallowing his disgust and a small amount of risen bile down, he agrees to go along. A simple "aye" is all is able to get out.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Although deeply skeptical and suspicious, Scarby follows Kain's lead while keeping an eye on the monster enthralling his comrades. "All right then lad, lead on..."

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Having seen nothing of use from the outside, Scarby steps to Kain's side and accepts the bread with a nod to the knight. Holding the bread in his hand, Scarby considers his warning and now that he is inside, Scarby attempts again to quickly scan for anything useful within reach should the situation turn violent.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby determined that the only way to end this was to somehow harm or kill the witch. But how? he thought frustratingly to himself. He knew he lost the element of surprise, but perhaps there was something in the hut he could use... A silver fork, a bag of salt, anything to disrupt the creature's concentration.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby tries to recall if he had heard sailors' tales of how survivors broke away from a siren's song.

What kind of check would to see how I can break Haakon and the other charmed people of the affect?

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common OOC: Sorry, I thought Scarby was inside with the others. Scarby regards Haakon. He calls loudly over the other man's shoulder. "Aye, that be it then." He lets the robed man lead the way but only a few steps before he addressing Haakon in a harsh whisper, "hey! Reclaim your wits, man! We're all in danger! Especially those inside with that... thing!" All the while, Scarby makes sure he has Oma within sight as he rifles through his memories about tales of such creatures. He thinks that the other are likely to turn on him if he attacks or that his companions may become hostile if he grabs one of them to shake some sense into them. OOC: Would this be an Arcana or Insight check?

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby looks around at his companions and the monstrous hag before him. "Snap out of it you lot! You all been bewitched!" he shouts at those affected by the enchantment. Then pointing at the monster. "You! Release them, foul siren!" OOC Movement: — Action: Ready. If Oma begins her song, Scarby will pick up the sharpest and most throwable object within reach to interrupt. Bonus Action: — Reaction: —

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby quickly unslings his pack and doffs his canvas long coat, hoping to keep it safe from most of the wet and so he does not get tangled while traipsing through the woods. Shoving the bundle under a bush by the roadside and scoring a mark on a nearby tree with his boot-knife, Scarby sets off with the others. Moving from cover to cover as quickly and quietly as he can, Scarby scores marks on other trees to mark the trail back to the road.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby shakes his head, scattering droplets from his brow. Cursing under his breath, "I knew it, foul sorcery!" He never thought of himself as a religious man, but he unconsciously began to make the sign of the cross before stopping and cursing again. "Bah! You're definitely not here, not in this place..." But doing so gives him an idea, and he turns to Tysh. "Tysh, yeah? Harin may not be in trouble, but I don't think he's safe either and we can come back for that." As he points at the trunk. "You said you can offer some kind o' protection? Can use your... spells or whatever on me, or even just ask your deity for me for some guidance? I'll move as quickly and quietly as I can to catch up to him."

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby takes in the aroma wafting on the air. Despite being the most inviting and familiar thing he has experienced since coming here, his long life has taught him that anything too good to be true often is... Addressing the group in a hushed tone that's just loud enough to be heard over the rain, "oi, this all don't seem right. I thought it be just my old bones, but anyone else feeling this... weariness? Then this?" Waving a hand in the air, indicating the smell. "May all be an old sailor's superstition, but can this be some kind o' sorcery?"

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby nods to Harin's response for help. As Harin points out his way of speaking and that he was staring, Scarby looks somewhat abashed and rubs the back of his neck. "Aye, caught that eh? Apologies. Yes, I'm not from anywhere near here. Wherever here even is. I was born in Jamestown, though I spent most o' my life at sea. Along the coast with the other colonies and Caribbean, mostly. I'm not even sure if time works the same here," Scarby says ruefully. "It was 1728 when I left." When he thinks of everything he has seen thus far since coming here, Scarby says with chagrin, "an' no. Lots o' different folk where I'm from, but we're all human. Strangest thing I think I seen was a Welshman I once knew, fresh off the boat, who went missin' for three whole days in Tortuga. When it was time for us to set-off again, he had three face tattoos and piercings you don't want to know where..." He chuckles to himself with the memory. Gloom quickly set-in as he thought how far away all that is now. Somberly, he continues, "but I was in London when that fog took me. I was there to finally meet my daughter... God. I hope she didn't get drawn into this place." Scarby suddenly becomes very quiet. He shakes his head to banish the thought. She's safe, you heard her scream from the other side, she's in her fancy manor sipping fancy tea with other fancy folk back in London. Finding again his determination, Scarby addresses the scholar once more, "thank you for mapping things out for me. Much appreciated, an' I meant no offense from before. Just let me know if you want help later with that." Scarby doesn't wait for Harin to respond. He quickly strides away, hoping that no one saw his eyes start to well with tears, as he takes his place in the marching order near the front behind Ardir.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby finished climbing down just as the bearded man in robes finished speaking. Addressing the motley group, "Aye. The one who speaks strange words makes the most sense in this mad place, an' I agree with his suggestion." Pointing northwest, "I couldn't see much from up there but there be smoke in that direction. Should be well enough away from where we're headin'." After slinging the pack containing his meager possessions over his shoulders, Scarby noticed the struggling scholar. Initially taken aback by his pointed ears, but recognizing he was in clear need of aid, Scarby uncomfortably addresses him while pointing at the chest on the man's back, "Uh, Harin was it? Need a hand with that?" Scarby wondered while he spoke how all these weird folk seemed to understand him and them him. He spoke the King's English badly, but he seemed to have getting by just fine for now.

Scarborough "Scarby" Foster Human Sailor, Fighter AC: 15 (Studded Leather)| HP: 12/12 (1d10+2) | Speed: 30 ft. Senses: Passive Perception 13, Insight 13, Investigation 8 Str: 16 (+3) | Dex: 16 (+3) | Con: 14 (+2) | Int: 8 (-1) | Wis: 12 (+1) | Cha: 8 (-1) Languages: You can speak, read, and write Common Scarby nods at the barbarian, before realizing he had never seen his like before. He hopes the thought had not reached his face before responding, "Aye. Good to know that one o' us has the lay of the land. Name's Scarborough Foster, but ye all can just call me 'Scarby' or 'that ol' cuss' or whatever ye prefer." Upon hearing ascent at his suggestion of climbing up one of the trees, Scarby approaches the tree which looks to have the sturdiest branches. OOC Sorry, I'm new to this. I'm going to attempt to do this correctly.