Game of Chickens

The Downward Spiral Continues

Can anyone cast summon therapist? Anyone?

Froderick, Cynd, and Chickens lie on the ground in a neat little row of varying states of mostly unconsciousness. It is nearing dawn. Froderick weakly uses the second, and last, healing potion that they got from Shaghorn prior to leaving Tinkerhaven. Jarlath has no new spells for the day, and is unable to assist in healing. Turqeel, nude except for his bedroll that tries to keep wrapped around him, casts Cure Light Wounds on Cynd. The party has an ethical debate about whether or not to cast healing on Chickens, as he can’t loose random magic when he’s unconscious. They decide that leaving him wounded is wrong, and Turqeel also casts a healing upon Chickens. However, Turqeel pointedly casts no healing to help Froderick. Smoke continues to hold the blue rabbit hostage to her mothering instinct. The rabbit occasionally frog-croaks in protest, but finally just accepts it. Chickens morosely moves over towards the fire, and waits for the rest of the group to be ready. At one point, he seems to be ready to speak on something, but then changes his mind with a minor shake of his head.

Though still greatly wounded, the party sets off again. Turqeel, barefoot, slows the pace of the party down greatly. Chicken plods forward like a zombie, looking neither right nor left, nor speaking to anyone. His shoulders are slumped as if he carries the weight of the world atop them. The party watches Chickens with concern and Turqeel with increasing impatience. After nearly an hour on the rough, stony path, Turqeel is picking his way slower than ever, and his feet are bleeding. Froderick pushes the idea of abandoning Turqeel, causing Russellbob to speak up and proclaim that they don’t leave people behind. Finally, Cues borrows a dagger and cuts strips of cloth from the hem of his robe to wrap Turqeel’s feet in.

Travel is a little quicker, and if there are any magical curses, they don’t make themselves evident.

Just before midday, the party is walking in an area where the road is wide and vegetation is sparse. Yellow grass blows in the wind on the rocky hills. Ahead of the party, the land opens before them. They can see the rocky, rolling landscape still sloping in the mountainous terrain. They also see the large winged lizard-like form flying high in the sky on the horizon.

Froderick flinches when he sees it, and stops short. His eyes are clenched shut. He rubs his temples with shaking fingers…breathing slowly.
Russellbob asks, “What is it?”
Froderick says quietly, with a too-steady voice. “We need to take cover. If that’s dragon, we can’t let it see us.”
Cynd: “I don’t think it’s a dragon…”
Chickens is looking at it intensely, muttering, “Curse…curse…come on…”
Froderick, not looking up, says, “Oh ya? Why?”
Cynd, peering at it through elven eyes, says, “Look at its body…can’t see two sets of arms and legs plus wings. I only see wings and legs.”
The rest of the party gathers, murmuring “oh..ya..huh…” like tourists at a zoo.
Cynd says, “Well, no sense worrying, let’s keep walking…if it gets closer we will figure out what to do.”

Froderick is standing stock still, eyes clenched shut. A bead of sweat runs down the side of his face. It’s the first anyone has seen since the grass hair curse started.
Attempting cheer, Russellbob says, "Come on, horsey! Giddy-up!” This has no effect.
Becoming concerned, Cynd says: “Uhh, Frod…”
Smoke has put the rabbit down, and is trying to clean it and keep it from running off at the same time.
Jarlath is eyeing Froderick closely. Then he asks Froderick, “You’ve seen a dragon before, haven’t you?”
Froderick flinches at the word “dragon”. Ghost white under the green grass, Froderick slowly shakes his head, and whispers…“No…It never…No…”
The flying noun is heading perpendicular to the road south, off to the west, growing smaller
Froderick leans over suddenly (nearly dislodging Russellbob, who shouts “HEY!” in surprise) and dry heaves on the side of the dirt road.
Turqeel, at that moment mentions, “Oh yes…we haven’t eaten yet today. Since we’re already stopped why don’t we break for lunch?”
Cues looks at him in revulsion. The party discusses the best course of action, and given Froderick’s condition, decides the best idea is to stop and allow him to rest. Chickens takes no part in this discussion. Froderick shakingly takes a very long drink, but refuses food. The rest of the group eats.


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