Immersive Ink

Assuming her blade will retain its blessing if passed to another, Josiane will pass her sword to Wen once she's clear of the battle.

The elemental seems suddenly to tire of the pointless contest, and without warning moves directly upward into the sand-riven firmament. Wen and Helmut aid Josiane's retreat from battle, while Olaf, Highbough, and Dieter all press their luck looking to genuinely drive the creature off, but none of them can reach it quickly enough even with extra-scalar leaps into the thrashing wind.

The elemental rockets skyward, and soon vanishes from squinting eyes completely! Those who combated it are left panting and sweating from their efforts, but immediately note the wind is dulled to a mere natural ROAR with the unheralded departure of the air-spirit.

It is a fortunate turn of events.

Meanwhile, in the sheltered environment of the skif's hull, Desmond attempts to retract any of the dagger-like spikes from within the split iron-maiden/echo-chamber capsule... but has no luck. The dull grey metal spines are fused tightly to the inside surface of the ovoid... perhaps with some smith's tools it could be managed, but not with bare Hobbit's hands.

Armando recalls to mind Ulric's magic ring, while Ashtad casts a searching eye about the dim, stooped chamber. It is too low for Men to stand properly upright (although Desmond has no such concern), and riddled with struts and beams--much like a cramped attic. The dull grey, ovoid, iron-maiden occupies much of the space--a 20ft long, 10ft wide, 6ft high balloon filling the narrow hull of the skiff that must be crawled over, under, or around to move about. There is perhaps 10ft of free space aft and fore of the lead balloon, but even this is low. There are several arm-width pipes running upward from the fore end of the balloon thru the ceiling. Presumably these must emerge on the top deck... there might be something like a pressure valve among the pipes...

Turn six.

The elemental has suffered enough hurt to warrant a morale check (despite these monsters normally being compelled to fight to the finish by a conjurer, in this case there is no conjurer) 2d6=4; a flee result!

It has superior mobility, so a good initiative result will cause it to escape without harm; 1d6=4. Initiative for possible attackers: Olaf=6, Highbough=4, Dieter=3+1, so all three can attack in time.

Attack rolls 1d20:
Olaf=9-2 (would hit AC 9) miss.
Highbough=8-1 (would hit AC 9) miss.
Dieter=5 (wouldn't hit AC 9) miss.

Dieter (F5) hp 22 12
Josiane (C5) hp 16 12 7

The combat is over, so we switch back to exploration time scale. Those involved in the combat spend the remainder of the current exploration-turn recovering from their exertions.

What next?

Dieter surveys his comrades, once he's sure the elemental is not coming back. Then he waves for Josiane to follow him and enters the hull of the skiff. Once out of the wind, it'll be easier to bind our wounds.

Helmut sheaths the Blade of Seyal, then assists Josiane. He attends carefully to her wounds with not a little reverence, and muttered prayers to Thuul.

"Ulric! Shall we get out of the wind and attempt to use that scrying device to find Gustave?" Highbough the ever-cooperative is eager to do his part.

Desmond shakes his head, "Nyah, they're stuck tight. Not sure what they'd do for us, anyway, honestly..."

He backs away from the large metal clamshell cautiously, as if it might suddenly turn on him, when the sounds of howling winds and fighting diminish outside the craft.

"What's going on up there?"

Desmond makes his way out of the cramped (maybe more comfortable with just the one head, but...) space and back to the upper deck, where he'll take a better look around the ship for rooms to explore or items of interest.

Wen would watch the feeling Air Sprit with an intense gaze. "First a Tar Fiend and now a Angry Air Elemental, it seems the forces of chaos have bent the Elements to will in their attempts hinder us. I don't like it, I need to study these forces more."

He would help Josiane to a place where she can rest. "It would not do at to see you fall on this field, Dorgan would have a fit if nothing else, try to be careful while we remain. Dieter what did you learn while we were gone, any chance Highbough and I can get to the battle field below unseen?"

While the rest Wen would have a quiet word with Desmond....

"Ow."

Josiane will limp gingerly after Dieter into the relative shelter of the ruined ship where she sits down heavily, wiping the sweat from her forehead. She sets about tending to her wounds, flashing a grateful smile to the various party members fussing about her. She finds their concern genuinely touching.

"We cannot linger," she continues in more business-like tones; "Lord Highbough informs me that time passes more swiftly on this plane. Some of you have already been here long, and Lord Gustave longest of all."

The look of concern in her grey eyes would warm The Gustave's heart if only he were there to see it.

"Lord Dieter? Friend Torben?" she goes on; "Did any of the Wolf-Folk escape you? If so, we must assume the alarm has been raised and a counter-stroke against us is being prepared. Whatever we do, we must be swift.

"Lord Ulric? It is time for the Speculem, I deem. Do you please employ it to attempt to pinpoint the location of our missing friend."

"Some did, I'm afraid," Dieter responds, tending to his own wounds and attempting to keep sand out of them."This skiff was full of them, and some got away.

"Over the ridge of this crater we're in is a battlefield, with plenty of dead lying about. Behind that is a dark fortress, where these wolf-men apparently come from."

Torben

"I wounded one, I think," Torben shouts. "But he was far more accustomed to this world and launched himself out of sight." He looks at the dried blood on his spear, mixed with sand. "I think we're more of a match for them than we were the elemental, though."