The Green Man hurries into the edge of the forest, leaning heavily against a tree he heaves mightly, losing his breakfast.
"Ugh...gah..."
As soon as he is able, he growls in anger and pounds the tree with his fists, lost in inarticulate rage for several moments.
Is everybody all right?
Norton looks around to check the others, then speaks to Ta', who, amongst the wildwise, is the nearest one.
It seems we stumbled upon a liar of some kind, plus we might just have started a fire. I live to you to check on both things, just tell me if I could be helpful.
Ta'de-win examines the fire, hoping to ensure her actions don't cause the brush to ignite.
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The fire in check, she then examines the hole itself, sending a light inside, looking for tracks as she approaches first.
Ta'de-win is able to isolate the one fire she sees as a threat by cutting down the combustible grasses around it.
With the weeds burnt and cut down around the area, you can see the destroyed wagon, the horse and humanoid corpses more clearly. There is a sawdust sludge from the gnawing vermin all around the wagon remnants.
One of the corpses in plate has a shield bearing a crest of a stylized griffon wielding a blacksmith hammer and a watchmen's lantern. Over the crest there is a swath of fading red paint.
The crest is the Lurleton family crest, minor nobles with some presence in New Stetven.
You see faded mite tracks all but wiped out by the rat swarm. There is a death/rat waste stench coming from the hole. The light drops about 15 feet into indeterminable filth, and sends a small cloud of (presumably) mold spores and dessicated matter into the air around it. There is no reaction from your presence or actions.
"It seems this was one of the entrances of the Mites lair, some people might have been in the wrong place."
Recognizing the crest on the shield he takes it making himself a mental note to send a letter to the house as soon as he gets back to Oleg's.
Then he looks better at the bodies to check if there is anything useful left.
"Agreed Norton. It seems abandoned at this point, though it may still be a wise idea to collapse the tunnel at some point. Otherwise some other vermine may choose to make it it's lair." Ta'de-win aids Norton in his search.
The two bodies in full plate have...
a heavy steel shield
mwk morningstar
longsword
broken light repeating crossbow
all other gear is destroyed beyond repair.
There are scraps of worked metal, that look like they may have been parts of cages.
Ta'de-win finds a scroll case mostly underneath one of the men. Inside is a letter(?) written in an unknown language... but is signed "Sal'dor Graenkin"
Finding the note, Ta'de-win makes sure to open it in the presence of both Rogar and Norton. "I am uncertain what it says, but it is signed by Sal'dor. If any can read it, it may be important."
The note is written in Sylvan
"Greetings Mite Chief of the Brown Shaggies,
I offer a boon to your breeding... they will make strong babies with your shaggies. In return I ask a favor. There are two human settlements within a days walk. Get them to leave.
Again... if any armed biggins come your way, use a token. Write what you see, and speak the name Dovan from Nisroch."
Sal'dor Graenkin Lord of the Bloodband(signed)
Ta'de-win translates the notes for the others.
[b]"What do you think it means? Brown Shaggies?"[/b
"It seems Sal'dor was dealing with the mites, giving them presents to keep them from attacking somebody, from the description could be Oleg and Bokken. It also seems he wanted to be alerted if an armed company was to be walking nearby."
The Green Man slowly wipes the vomit from his chin, digs into his bag of herbs for something to fresh his breath up and then stalks back to join the others.
While he listens intently, the look in his eyes warns anyone that he is in no mood for conversation at the moment.
"I thought we hit the mites hard. Let us continue. Hitting the Stag Lord and taking the looming threat out will let us consolidate and handle the evolving threat."
The Green Man frowns, forgetting his anger for a moment.
"Dovan...is this the same Dovan who USED to be second in command to the Stag Lord?
Do you think he was so angry at being replaced that he threw his lot in with Sal'dor?"
Errol shrugs, "Could be. Stag Lord may'a sent him there himself. Last I heard about Dovan was how he and this Akiros were in an argument regarding Dovan's handling of some matter... Akiros was still a fresh face. Well... Dovan's "squire" made a snide remark toward Akiros, and the Stag Lord crushed his neck like it was warm fruit. That was the night Akiros became Stag Lord's second. I'd say that would back up your hunch."
"Do we have any mean to collapse that tunnel?"
"Then I suggest we aim for Bokken and see what the rest of the day has for us."
"Agreed. Let us see what we can do about it."
Furiel watches the druid with curiousity.
"Need any help?"
The best you able to do is hack at the edge of the tunnel, making a wider hole... cover that with wagon remnants... cover that with dirt and pack it.
While moving the bulk of the wagon two identical odd metal objects are found... one hooked onto the broken axle, the other unattached. They are a couple feet long and thin as a man's pinky. Linked to one end is a spike with small "spiky wedges" (like a tiny arrowhead cut in half from the tip) radiating around it. On the other end is a hook.
It appears to have been used to break the axle of the wagon. Hammered into the ground and somehow hooked onto either the wheel or the axle of the moving wagon. Either way, it would not be too easy to execute.
It seems this thing has been used to wreck the wagon, it also seems a bit complex for the mites to build."
"Off to Bokken?"
"That does seem to be our next objective."
"Yes, let's move!"
You continue east-southeast out of the field into the treeline. Within a mile the woods get quite thick, the elevation rises slightly, and the faded trail becomes less overgrown. Along the way you pass several dilapidated small shacks... by the looks of it, all abandoned for years.
A few miles later of mostly plains and the occasional clump of trees, you crest a hill and come to a sparsely wooded area around a small pond. On the far side of the 60' in diameter pond, the woods appear to thicken again. Nestled in the trees on the far side is a small shack surrounded by a primitive picket fence. There is a humanoid figure hunched over with its back to you that appears to working on something... maybe repairing the fence?
"This might be it don't you think?" The Green Man shudders, "I'm glad we're away from that other place..."
"I agree that this quite well may be the one we seek." Ta'de-win looks about for any signs of trouble or danger.
It appears to be an old man, probably human. Apart from a nearby hoe, he does not appear to be armed. The shack is about 15' wide, and is surrounded by stacks and piles of battered boxes and scrap.
A few seconds after Green speaks, the old man stops what he is working on and starts to move toward the front door.
"Well...we might as well announce ourselves...but maybe going over there and knocking on the door would be better than simply shouting?
I'm not so well versed in politeness."
"I believe announcing would be best, he is building a snare. And I see no other dangers."
Ta'de-win spurs her mount a few steps forward to come into view as she calls out.
The old man quickens his pace. Not until he is in his doorway does he turn to look. He stands inside the door with it open enough to peek his head through. "What do you want from me? I don't know you. How do know my name?"
Furiel steps forward, obviously eager to talk to Bokken.
"I am Furiel the master of arcane magics. These are mighty companions of many talents. We come from Brevoy to tame these lands and live in harmony with her creatures. Picked by nobility and honored by divine favor and chance, we continue the legacy of the mighty that knew glory before us. I am the friend of honorable kobolds, the foe of evil wizards, and the scourge of mites and their huge giant centipede mounts."
Furiel tells his stories laced with truth.
Bokken whistles through his teeth. "Ooo... Impressive. Mind the turnips." He gestures to the ground a few feet from Furiel.
"What is it you want from me?"
"Grundy told us where to find you, he thinks you might have information for us. May we come in?"
Bokken reacts to the name... "Grundy? Werner Grundy? That old drunk fool. He ever tell ya he's a murderin dog? ... Hmm don't suppose he would." He glances back into his shack. "Meh. Place ain't set for company... but" He then looks out into the sky and around the treetops. "...best not to talk out here. C'mon in."
Norton dismounts and accepts the man invitation.
Ta'de-win follows Norton in, keeping a look out for any signs of danger.
There is not much room inside, so Errol stays outside with Rogar to keep an eye out. There is clutter all around the interior walls of the shack... alchemical devices, woodworking, glassblowing, and metalworking tools... Bokken pushes more of it against the wall to make room. He scans the area outside the shack's one window, before looking over the group.
"So.. you say yer lookin fer information?" Bokken wipes his hands on his robe, and you notice his right hand is missing the pinky and ring finger. He rolls his shoulder and tugs his sleeve to cover it.
Bokken seems to be trying to hide his nervousness and "inspecting" Ta'de-win... as if looking at or for something on her person.
Furiel is oblivious to any tension. He looks with obvious excitement at the crafting apparati. "Some gnomes are quite handy. I, alas, am not one of them. What have you made? Anything magical?"
The little gnome rubs his hands together.
"Potions mostly. Haven't crafted wands or other trinkets for a while. Not much call for em out here." he moves over to a pile of books and papers and starts rifling through them.
He seems to be lying about that.
"I assume that's not the information you came for, eh?"
"Relax yourself, you did not achieve this age by virtue of not keeping your head cool I wager.
We are quite friendly; Oleg from the trading post can verify our good intentions.
I realize that might not calm you right now since you can't ask him until you meet, but it should speak well of us. He is...not a man who trusts easily I believe."
Bokken shows a slight reaction to Green telling him to relax, then nods. "Hmm. Yes. Oleg is a good man." He moves closer and leans in speaking quietly "I should warn you. I am not alone in these woods... The corvids are not what they seem." He glances at Ta'de-win once again, and then to the window.
He is definitely trying to read Ta'de-win's reactions, and had been skeptical (assumedly regarding who you are and your affiliations). This seems to have eased a bit now.
Furiel continues his relaxed banter. "I hope you are not concerned about our friendship with kobolds. We met a kobold named Mikmek, and his honor and valor would do humankind proud."
He is still rubbing his hands together.
"Show me the good stuff you have. I would love a wand."
"No no. I've kept worse company than kobolds" In response to Furiel's interest in magic wares Bokken shrugs, "Just have what I've kept for myself... but nothin I can't take care of with a potion. If the trail to Oleg's is a little more safe, I might make good on Oleg's offer to sell my goods at his trading post." Bokken starts going through a box on top of a stack against the wall. He pulls out a pale wood wand with a slight spiral. "Have a couple ready for enchanting. Usually takes me couple days from start to finish, but could have one ready for ya bout this time tomorrow."