Norton slides down the wall of the chasm into the rotting filth just in time to see a maniacal looking blood-soaked Rogar stabbing and skewering the mite chief ... its little hands slip from the wall in its final seconds before losing consciousness...
Ta'de-win's summoned dog bites into the neck of the nearest unconscious mite - killing it instantly.
Furiel looks for any conscious mites to shoot with his acid splash. acid vs touch ac
One of the fleeing mites yelps as Furiel's acid singes its rump.
Mikmek rises .. he speaks with little emotion, but he does give Furiel a less than friendly sneering look..
"No need to chase them .. they'll kill each other off trying to assert dominance over the females and young that have already fled. Count yourselves lucky my warband thinned their numbers before you arrived.."
Heh, hark at him, you would think He was doing US a favour.
"Right, now that this is over, time for you to sing out my scaly friend. What is this task you need to complete so badly that you were willing to risk life and tail for it?"
"Oh yes, and if we make sure the rest of the Mites are dead, I can go to work on a little healing too."
Rogar limps out of the chasm, he tries to grin but it comes out more like a grimace as he seems to obviously be in pain.
"Well, a couple of them escaped, a pity, I meant to pay them back...but whatever, I think the day is our again, right? What about the spoils of war?"
"I could try to track them, but it may be difficult. I agree with, Mikmek I believe you said? We may allow ourselves to be taken by a different predator if we give chase before licking our own wounds."
Mikemek starts to respond to Green, but stops as Rogar climbs from the chasm.
"Yes .. they will dig deep, and nest for years .. Our war with them now over but spoils go to you. I am here for Old Sharptooth alone- a relic the blue devils stole from Sootscale." He looks up .. "Small .. uhh " and repeats a word not in common...
He adds.. sounding a bit awkward "They took my ancestor spear too. Killed warband and fed to pets.. " He looks down "Shaman can you let the dead know of our victory?"
"What a victory. We indeed need to lick our wounds, count our spoils, and rush back to Oleg's for rest and refitting. Well done all. I am impressed with the bravery, Rogar, that leap was heroic to say the least."
You check out the area ..
Across the chasm to the south, there is a nook filled with sacks and barrels... as well as a table with a crude map (tiny bones and random bits appear to serve as markers..)
Further east and north .. you find their filthy sleeping room, and a tiny hole - a tunnel barely more than a foot wide.
Rogar laughs, trying to make a show if modesty, and failing miserably at it:"Well, thank you Furiel, the result wasn't exactly what I expected but the idea was to jump on their chief and slay him... worked, in the end, even if not exactly as I planned..."
"Old Sharptooth? Interesting, and you were here to retrieve it for your leader? Assuming you are not the leader of course?
And yes, I shall perform a ceremony to apease the dead once we are outside again."
"Ser Ambrosi...can we have a word in private?"
sitting among a little pile of blood? covered rocks on the "map" is a small statuette of a squatting reptilian devil gargoyle type thing. There is some writing to the right of the map ..
Small and smaller crude weapons are stacked, piled, and hanging all around. Tiny filthy cloaks hang on pegs..
You search through the sacks and barrels, and miraculously .. find nothing terribly foul or rotten..
On top of a 3 gallon barrel of ale is a jewelry box. It looks like every little shiny random object that they found is somehow affixed to the lid ..( gems, pearls, a broken necklace, three highly polished silver coins.)
Inside the box there is a small piece of paper with the same unknown writing ... and 6 objects the shape of a "fat coin" .. they appear to be feathers coiled in a spiral and encased in something like amber..
As usual Norton is not actively checking the loot but if someone asks for clues on the map here is my
"We surely can my friend" answering to the mysterious question from Green.
Rogar considers the map but doesn't make any sense out of it, he then checks the piece of paper and tries to read it, lastly he checks the statuette:"I guess this would be old snapthooth... ugly as hell, if you ask me... but who am I to question Kobold sensibilities?"
Taking Norton to one side, The Green Man leans in and whispers.
"These kobolds were able to drive out the goblin tribe from their own home, so clearly they must be strong no?"
"You have a way with words, if we escort this little fellow back to his tribe and you put in a good word, we might just have made some useful friends don't you think?"
You find a crate of clothing mostly ripped into strips and random pieces of leather. At the bottom of the crate are a light wooden shield with a faded gold and red crest and a quality chain shirt.
There are also two small leather pouches, each with a magnifying glass inside.
On a rack behind the chest are 12 small spears. All but one are fair craftsmanship at best.
One sack of new potatoes
Two sacks of wheat
32gp 140sp
Rogar surveys the rest of the loot:"Not much to be seen here I fear. But some of this stuff might surprise us... and hoping never killed anybody so... can someone confirm if, against likelyhood these blue faced bufoons had something magical in their "treasure chest"?"
So saying the warior points at the shield, the chain shirt, the statuette and the "feather-things."
The Green Man nods.
"I shall do as you request in just a moment Ser Valertis."
"Scoop up the loot, keep the stragglers running, and let's get out of here. Green, is Rogar OK to travel after his fall and fight with the tick?"
Furiel looks around hopelessly at the loot. He puts another light on Norton and Rogar's weapons.
"No magic detection for me, but I will keep the way lit."
Mikmek crosses the chasm and heads over to where Rogar is sifting through things.. "Ah! Ahaha! Old Sharptooth!" He grabs the statuette from the table and wipes the filth off the bottom. "We go? Go together? Right here." He looks over at Norton - who had been looking at the map before Green called him aside.
Mikmek puts his finger in the pile of stones on the map.. "Sootscale cavern.." then move his finger to a twig stuck upright.. "We here now .. we go here. Clan will heap rewards on tall ones and maybe even gnome-that-smells-wrong. "
"Time for that spell, allow me."
"So Mikmek, you did not answer my question, are you the leader of your tribe? And if no, then who is?"
Replying to Green "Yes, allies are useful, let's see if we can end, at least, one encounter without smiting people."
Then to the Kobold "We can help you back to your clan Mikmek, hopefully we can be friends for the future."
Furiel laughs at Nortons comment then looks sheepishly at Rogar.
"Most of the people we smite deserve it. But I am willing to concede diplomacy has its place. I think we need to find a safe place to camp before we visit Sootscale cavern. And we do need to finish the mapping of this area too."
Rogar eyes the kobold doubtfully:"Yes... maybe when we are all healed and rested we can visit your tribe's lai... aherm... "home". Right now I think we should head to Oleg's. And untill that happens this statuette is coming with us..." So saying Rogar takes the statue back from the kobold.
Roll:
Mikmek answers Green "Not the leader.. Chief Sootscale is leader. That is why I am Sootscale .. they fear my Embermaw blood High Shaman Tartuk says I will never lead and can never take mate.."
The 6 tokens, the chain shirt, and a pearl glued to the jewelry box are all magic.
Mikmek howls when Rogar takes the statuette from him .."No no no! Not yours!"
Furiel looks at Rogar at puts up his hands,
"We are trying to do things more the nice way. I don't think that is the best way to build rapport with our new buddy."
Rogar keeps the statuette out of Mikmek's reach:"Listen: I don't want the statuette, but it is coming with us until we deliver it to your chief. And the price for the statuette will be a treaty of some sorts. Let me repeat this, kobold: we don't want... "Old Sharpthooth", we'll give it to you but first you need to follow us to our home, and then we'll go to yours with the statuette, and you'll be the hero who brought it back. Do we have an understanding?"
Mikmek nods slowly goes over the pile of spears and takes one.. "We go to your home then mine. If you want Sharptooth curse, you carry .. I won't fight you."
"Quite a bit of magic here, the tokens, the chain shirt, and this pearl is magical."
The Green Man indicates one of the gems on the box with a massive finger.
"Say, Mikmek, would you be more comfortable if I held on to the statue? I too am a shaman of sorts as you have deduced."
"Tell me more about Chief Sootscale and Shaman Tartuk. Why does he say you can never lead or take mate, because you came from another clan before?
And does the chief agree?"
"I am blood of Ichnachtdurat the Embermaw. Might be last. Tartuk say my blood is tainted .. they know Embermaw blood and fear my young. For they would be destined to be mightier than Sootscale." he pauses for any challenges ..
" So I am ward and point of spear for Chief Sootscale. Chief Sootscale is good leader but listens to Tartuk the bloodless.. I do not trust a kobold that does not know his own blood.."
"Shaman .. if you carry Sharptooth .. I swear to not kill you in your sleep.."
Furiel speaks quietly to the others.
"I think we may need to do a little kingmaking among the Sootscales. Mikmek can be a valuable ally for our future kingdom, especially as king of his tribe."
The Green Man throws back his head and roars with laughter.
"Hah! A fine promise indeed, I shall make one in return.
You follow us without complaint and I shall not bite your head off and drink your soul."
Calming down a little, The Green Man looks quizzically at MikMek.
"So Sootscale is respected, but the shaman is not? And by your words I take it you would rather back the chief than the shaman if it came down to a contest to decide the future of the tribe?"
The Green Man retrieves the idol from Rogar openly so MikMek can see it being done.
Rogar laughs raucusly, and stops immediately with a grimace as the pain of his recent wounds makes itself known:"Geez... are we playing at kingmaking for kobolds now? Better and better... anyway, Green... if you want this ugly thing you can have it. Just don't give it to our friend, here before he fulfills his part"
So saying the young would be swordlord throws the statuette of old Sharpthooth to Green.
Mikmek nods with a grunt at Green's promise, and nods again at his question.. "Chief is good leader .. Tartuk's words are poison.."
He turns quickly to Rogar .. "I do not understand this 'kingmaking'... but I know game of baiting, human. You will not provoke me in my hour of victory. This place sickens me .. lead the way to your lair."
Assuming he speaks the thoughts of most of the tribe, we know whom we should turn to.
"Before we go, one quick thing..."
The Green Man, confident that no enemies are alive to benefit from his act touches his forehead and summons the powers of life.
"Right, let us head up top, I am missing the sunlight. Or have we missed any place to search? No sense in leaving loot behind."
"You have great power Shaman, I see mad warrior can speak bigger than he is with your power at his back.. " Mikmek rummages through a few mite corpses .. then crawls back down chasm. He returns thirty seconds later and throws a pouch to Rogar.
"From your kill Mad Warrior."
It is a dark suede pouch with a an embroidered insignia.
caltrops
The Green Man chuckles a little.
I bet the irony of that statment is lost on him.
Rogar stares at the caltrops, poleaxed:"Niiice... well... thank you, kobold... I guess..."
You return to the surface, after a bit of climbing - luckily the east side was an actual path, unlike the side you descended. Rook, Kjell, and Alice are there to greet you .. the sky is overcast, but still blinding to you after your time below. The grass is slightly damp, there must have been a light rain.
Rook is arranging kindling and a teepee of small broken branches. "Good to see ya back. Was about to check after settin up a camp." He sees Mikmek and jumps "Ho! ... kobold?"
Furiel adds quickly, "A good kobold--we rescued him. He has the heart of a warrior." Furiel repeats the statements in draconic to be sure Mikmek gets the idea.
If we are done mapping this area we can camp safely away from this nest.
Mikmek has fashioned a hood like a babushka from one of the mite's frocks. He pulls it low over his eyes after scanning the campfollowers.
"I know your language, gnome. Do we stay here and wait for trolls or go to your lair?"
11 small spears
pearl
chain shirt
6 feather tokens
3 gallons of ale
40 days of rations worth of dry goods
bag of caltrops
2 magnifying glasses good condition
mundane light wooden shield
46gp
"Let me look at the magic treasure."
"I think we want to camp out."
+1 chain shirt
6 feather tokens (bird)
bag of endless caltrops (up to ten 5'squares/day)
The Green Man kneels in front of the entrance, touches his forehead and mutters a long string of words in his native Skald, bidding the souls of the kobolds to go to whatever warriors rest they believe in.
Shall we make camp, or do we ride straight to Oleg's for the night?