Connor thanked the alchemist with a gold piece.
Over dinner at the pub, Sam relates the sights and sounds of the city to the others.
"So, I figure I'll hit yon guild hall in the morning and see if they've got a need for a great deal of violence somewhere in the city," he says with the smile that was becoming so common for the formerly grim looking half-elf.
The inn serves, fortunately, both meat and vegetables (although it's menu is slanted heavily toward meat, so the vegetables are potatoes and carrots). It does make a nice stew that is heavy on meat with onions and potatoes and carrots.
The next day, those who head to the guild hall find a pleasant little building that's about 50 ft long, and 30 ft wide. It's made of rough-hewn timbers, but it's cozy. The screened in windows along the ceiling let the air circulate so that it's not stifling inside. One down side of the high walls is a lack of breezes in the semi-jungle city.
As you look over the notices on the wall, most of them have a small green stamp on them. Inquiring you find that the green stamp means that the person taking the job must be Guild Approved. That requires the person to have completed at least 3 jobs for the guild, and that they have been a guild member for at least 3 months.
Of the ones that don't have this requirement, most are fairly mundane, like track down ingredients for the Alchemist, or guard a warehouse. These are all low-paying jobs, of course. There is one higher paying job that sticks out, however. Someone is willing to give a suit of ornate masterwork full plate to whoever can find Ragreth Snowcoat. Per the notice, the armor is estimated to be worth 2100 gold pieces.
The Guild member who is at the desk looks up and nods. "Oh, that one. Yeah, that's Lorieth Snowcoat. Her father's a bit of a rascal, and he disappears at random times. Usually he's off somewhere with a floozy. When he's not running around, he goes on treasure hunts in the hills. Occasionally he comes back with something valuable, but he blows the money on women and booze. His daughter don't have enough coin for a real reward, but her grandfather was a famous warrior back when the Gnolls and Felines were fighting. That's a non-certified job because there's no gold, just items." The one armed gnoll waves toward the door. "If you want to do the job, see Lorieth. She's the manager of the lumber mill, it's at the south edge of town, next to the gate."
Reaghar will enjoy his meal and mostly just mosey about town with no real purpose. These days on the road had been rough on the otherwise rough-and-tumble man, and a period of laziness suited him just fine. The other busybodies of his group would find him, no doubt, if the need arose. It isn't exactly as if he blends in with the populace, anyway.
Compared to supplementing his meat-heavy meals from the Monastery with nuts and berries from his trail rations, the inn's vegetable selection was a welcome change for Connor. The Able Sailors of the Ashen Edge had mentioned eating limes and lemons to prevent scurvy on long trips. Connor made a mental note to buy several raw potatoes, carrots, and onions for when they started the trip back to Kalliert.
-----------
Connor read the Guide Hall's Guild-heavy specifications. Here was the reason muleskinners, trappers, and frontiersmen didn't stay long in Vuomik. This guild had the place sewn tighter than a miser's purse. Connor read the notice about the missing person request. Two thousand, one hundred gold pieces in a suit of full plate. Unless Sammark could fit into the full plate, Connor didn't know how the armor would be useful for anyone from Atalantia. Alister back on the Blade would still need heavy modifications for his wings. Maybe they could sell the armor.
Connor asked, and was answered, about the missing person job. He would have to see the lumber mill's proprietor.
Sam falls into step next to Connor quickly enough, the promise of anything valuable enough to get him interested. "You off to the Snowcoat thing?" He asked mildly. It would help to have someone else along, particularly someone smarter than him. Now that he had started, the easy smiles were as plentiful as his dry wit.
Connor nodded to Sammark. "I figure if we fly, we can set up a search pattern this treasure hunter, look for fire smoke from the air, campsites, that kind of-" he broke off as he realized Sam wouldn't be joining in on any coordinated flights. "You might need a horse." Connor added lamely.
"I'm up for it too," Alys smiles an innocent smile that Sam hasn't seen since they left the Guild outpost for Kol's hideout, and Connor isn't familiar with at all. With her hands folded behind her Alys's whole posture was an expression of excitement.
"Come now boyo, I'll figure something out, I always do," Sam says, "You two take the sky and fly a search pattern, I'll search on horseback. We'll get some flags to signal with over distances."
"Make it a heavy horse, because I'll need you to carry the gear for us. No way I can fly with my backpack and carrying that gear." Connor requested. He looked at Alys. "That's three." the humavian mentioned. "Let's get the Snowcoat info first, then see if Reaghar, Elrohir, and Selvan are up for a short job."
Finding the lumber mill isn't hard, it's next to the gate as promised. The large building is almost as high as the wall that protects it. When those who go step inside, they find an odd sight to their foreign eyes.
6 large golems walk in lock step around and around, pushing two giant gears (3 golems on each gear). The gears are 6 ft across, and a foot thick. They turn and creak and feed other gears and spindles, each progressively smaller. The two giant gears manage to feed 30 or so smaller saw blades, from 3 ft high to just a hand span. Workers push the tree trunks and other wood against the blades, which send wood dust flying as they spin at high rates of speed.
Asking around (yelling, to be heard over the din), they find a female Sleeva who finally nods, yells something incomprehensible at a Khava male, and then leads the group into a quieter room.
Even talking her voice projects right through your bones, making them vibrate. You've heard dragons who weren't able to project as well.
"A description would be nice, to start, Mistress Lorieth." began Connor, memorizing the female feline's overall features, in case there would be a family resemblance. "Then a list of places your father, Ragreth Snowcoat, has already been, as well as likely areas he would be at, so we don't go looking in the wrong areas forever." Connor bit his tongue so he wouldn't say "up the wrong tree", considering his potential employer's heritage. "And if there are any personal, ah, messages or remarks we should use to convince Ragreth to return to Vuomik. I'm sure you don't want us to return empty-handed."
She rattles off a description of her father, not in flattering tones. She digs into her belt pouch and pulls out a piece of paper, on it are some landmarks.
"Ah. Yes. Well." Connor sputtered. He took the piece of paper from the cat-woman. "We will try the ruins first, Mistress Lorieth, and then broaden our search. I'm Connor of Clan Reville, by the way. My normal-looking", as Connor avoided the half-elf and Wingless titles, "is Sammark, and our partner in this search is Alys." Connor stated, finishing the introduction. "We'll start today or tomorrow morning, and you'll see us again in five or six days, if we cannot find your father."
"You see why I like these people?" Sam said to the others. "An aerial view would probably help with spotting the landmarks. We can head out once you lot are ready and I have a mount."
The feline looks the group over, and shakes her head.
"Well in that case well make some cash on the side," Sam says with his usual lack of concern.
"Trust us, your request was received better than any bounty; we do not wish to be part of a lawmaker's posse." Connor stated. Inwardly he was more concerned than he looked. Ogre mages? Dragons? So much for an easy search-and-retrieve. "Once we find Master Snowcoat, do you want us to drag him back, despite what he might be working on? Or his location good enough?"
Connor steeled himself against the female's bluntness. "Well, unless my companions think I've missed anything, we are taking your request. See you in five days or less."
What you found out earlier is that there is a city to the north ruled by chromatic dragons. It's said to be 30 miles across, the old Emperial Capitol, as near as you can tell from talking to people, the Empire died out about 1500 years ago. It was trashed by an alliance of Orcs, Hobgoblins, Drow, Goblins, Ogres, and other 'monstrous' species who worked together long enough to destroy the 'civilized' races.
All the humans and elves and halflings and gnomes were driven into the sea south of here. They cut down a forest building ships. The stories say not a single fighter survived, they sent children and ship crews away instead.
The dragons took over the old Emprial Capitol, which is odd for dragons to congregate. All chromatic or neutrals. They have vassal servants (Hobgoblin tribes) who do their bidding. There's a lot of half-dragon and draconic creatures there as well. The dragons are doing something, but they don't know what.
As to the Ogres, the hills to the west are ruled by the Ogre Mages, who rule as a council. They rule over ogres, hill giants, and a consortium of other species that owe them allegiance (goblins, bugbears, lizardfolk). The Ogre mages and the Dragons have been at war for about 300 years. Nobody knows why they are fighting each other, only that every hundred years or so the dragons send thousands of troops south, along with thousands of younger dragons, and the Ogre Mages then trash them. It's something of an afternoon past time to sit on the wall and watch the sky and see dragons explode in mid air, or watch an ogre mage detonate when a dragon get's the drop on him. The younger dragons, and sometimes the occasional Ogre Mage, raid the town, thus the aerial defenses.
"Makes enough sense to me."
The catfolk shakes Connor's hand, and then calls out in a much louder voice that cuts through the loud noise outside that she's going on a lunch and will be back later than normal, then she yells at someone named Mivvy to quit being stupid or she'll shove their tail into the gears herself when she gets back, if they haven't already stained the oak red for her before then.
It's a short walk to her house, and she vanishes inside for a few minutes, before returning with a notebook written in the local language (Which nobody can read, given it's in a foreign language, although she book marked the pages with drawings on it that look like maps). She then takes 10 minutes to translate the the writing, letting you write the translation in the same note book. Most of the directions involve looking for a rock that looks like this, or a trio of trees with the trunks bent in a certain way, then looking for a hillside that looks like a sleeping stripe beast, and so on.
"It may actually be best if we searched from the ground," Sam said, reading over the translation and committing it to memory as a precaution. "It weren't written you you lot in mind. You know anyone who'd like to see the ol'tom dead?" He asked Lorieth, now that they were ostensibly far away from curious ears. Granted, there was so much noise back at the mill that eavesdropping would have been an impressive feat in and of itself.
She snorts, then rattles off a long list of male names. She then rattles off names for about five minutes, apparently all from memory.
This guy's already used up his nine lives. Connor thought to himself. Connor used his autohypnosis to memorize as much as the book as possible from Lorieth Snowcoat.
Sam looks on blankly as she continues with the lists. "Something tells me I'm going to like this guy," he says with a grin, "Let's go gather the rest of the flock and go get him."
The group going out on the search stop and rent Sammark a stripebeast with a saddle and bridle (This is 3 gold per day).
Selvan will just walk for now.
Everyone but Selvan and Sammark take to the sky. On occasion, they can fly below tree level, but they have to hit the ground occasionally and walk to get past vines and low hanging branches. The trees around here are fairly thick and lush, and so they end up flying about 20 ft above most of the time.
Chance of Dragon Spotting (per 4 hours): 15%
Chance of Ogre Mage Spotting (per 4 hours): 20%
Morning
Evening
The first day goes by relatively peacefully. The fliers can't see the landmarks correctly, although Selvan and Sammark manage to find them without too much difficulty, reading the translations.
Flick was found outside the city gates flying and tumbling through the air gracefully. He clearly needed to stretch his wings.
When Connor informs him of the mission, he readily agrees, mostly so he can fly more.
Once the frontier town was out of sight, Connor handed Sammark his garnet crystal on a silver necklace. A sliver of crystal glowed to either side of the silver cage keeping the garnet in place. "Here." the humavian told the half-elf. "You've seen me use Hero before. I wish I had given him to you to wear when we all entered Kalliert - I would have tracked you down a lot sooner than you found us. Hero can't talk yet, I think he will when he gets older, but this way the fliers and the walkers can find each other. I can sense him and he can sense where I am up to a mile."
---------------
Connor tried to make a firepit hole to hide the campfire in, digging into the grass-covered soil with a shovel that appeared in his hands. Using fallen branches, the young man used his flint and steel to start the fire. He had psionic focus with flame, but Connor wanted to make sure he knew how to light the fire without mindpowers.
-----------------
"Watches?" Connor repeated when the topic was broached as the sun set. He held out his right arm straight from his body, curling his fingers as a blob of ectoplasm appeared.
This wingless human-like creature is made from a silvery-transparent material. It stands shorter than a Halvavian. It is ready to move by silent command from its master.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 20 to 29 creates a construct that looks like an accurate portrayal of that creature type.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 19, touch 14, flat-footed 17 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size, +1 Deflection)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed 30 ft.
Melee (only if changed; duration goes from 4 hours to 4 rounds; slam +2 (1d6+3 with Improved Slam Attack (Ex))
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 10 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (Two options from Menu A; one option from Advanced Constructs Menu A)
Utility (Ex)
Improved Slam Attack (Ex) (in case it changes to attack)
Deflection (Ex)
"This sees in the dark and will last for four hours." Connor assured everyone. Looking at the whitish construct, Connor told it, "Guard this area. Walk in a slow circle, looking outwards. If anyone or anything approaches, come wake me up. Take verbal commands from him, him, him, him, and her if they talk directly to you." the winged human said, pointing at each of the others in turn. Cupping a hand, Connor called over to Sammark. "Hey Sam! Hero doesn't sleep, and can see in the dark. His only fault is that he's nearsighted, maybe a stone's throw, tops. Have him wiggle out of that necklace and tell him he's got guard duty alllll night tonight!" Connor grinned at the last remark.
"Hero can wander back and forth while the construct makes his rounds. And wake me up every four hours and I'll make another construct. I'll take last watch, if I can." Connor finished, yawning.
"Heh, I don't know how the lady would have taken that," Sam said, accepting the little gem. He slipped the necklace on and studied Hero, "Makes me almost wish I had put more effort into my studies"
-----------------
As Connor tried to light the fire, Sam came up behind him and watched for a second before stopping him.
"You're doing it all wrong. Stack the tinder like so and strike the flint like this," he said, fixing the mistakes made by the younger man. He was no survivalist but he did know a little more than a city-boy.
Once they had the fire going, Sam broke out a shaving kit and started heating up some water. He lathered up and set about studiously scraping the stubble from his face with a remarkably nice looking razor and the assistance of a small hand mirror. All the while he hummed a jaunty little dance number. By the time he was done, it looked like he had gotten into a tussle with a cat as he was bleeding from a dozen or so minor nicks. Inspecting his savaged visage, he grimaced and wiped the last of the lather from his face, along with a bit of blood.
-----------------
"I'll take the first watch," Sam volunteered. He flicked the gem and relayed Connor's instructions. Sam had seen the thing move about in the past and was still a touch uneasy about having it around his neck in case it decided to go exploring.
"I can do whatever watch. I haven't used any of my abilities today."
Stop reading this you cheater!
Overnight Spot Chance, Dragon or Ogre : 30 - Survival Check = 30-21= 9%
Next Day :
Chance of Dragon Spotting (per 4 hours): 15%
Chance of Ogre Mage Spotting (per 4 hours): 20%
Morning
Evening
The night passes uneventfully for everyone. In the morning, the group begins moving again. The next day, the group moves on again, and again, the fliers would have gotten lost if not for the two walking, who are able to follow the directions from the book.
Toward evening, the group comes to a distinctive hillside described in the manual. After some searching, they find the remains of a mule, tied up in a small arroyo. The remains of a bridle and bit are still attached to the mule's head, although that is now detached from the body. Something ripped it apart, and judging by the amount of damage done to the tree the lead was attached to, the mule tried frantically to free itself before it died.
Nearby, a pack saddle is set up inside a two man tent, out of the weather. And 20 feet beyond that is a small tunnel into the hillside. It looks to have been recently dug out. Entering it would require squeezing.
"Yeah, thanks." Connor told Sammark on the campfire preparation.
----------------
Connor wrote of the search-and-report mission in his journal the next morning, mentioning the Snowcoat father-daughter dynamics, as well as the local information on dragons, ogre mages, and the ancient "Emprial Capitol". He put that last part in Auran, just in case.
-----------------
"Offhand," Connor drawled, "I'd say this is how a dragon does a fly-by attack. But it could have been anything: a griffin, roc, dire bear, who knows?" He looked at Sam's rented stripebeast, then looked around for a thicket or high grass to hide the animal.
Looking at the crudely dug hole, Connor glanced at his companions. "I say we have the psicrystal scout ahead. He's small, and will tell me what's inside." he declared. Connor winced at Hero's mental retort. "No, I think our missing Snowcoat made the tunnel, not the dragon! Because you talk and a construct wouldn't!" he responded verbally.
"Or whatever dug this hole is the attacker.", Alys -who is visibly sickened by the gruesome image- adds ignoring Connor's bickering with his psicrystal. "Although looking at what happened here that would mean it is either really powerful for its size, or serpentine in shape. Having the psicrystal scout the tunnel is a good idea, but we should look around more as well."
Alys does find some prints, partially washed away by the rain, around the remains. None of the prints are huge, but they are as big as Alys's fist. There are a lot of them.
It looks like a pack of dogs of some kind (perhaps those spotted dogs that look like Gnolls?) found the hapless mule and ripped it apart in a feeding frenzy. Probably at least a dozen of them, although some are pups based on the prints and teeth marks.
Connor shrugged. "All right, I'll look around." he said.
"A pack of things then. Wonderful." Selvan remarks checking the pack saddle inside the tent.