Though it was her suggestion that led to the wait, the anticipation for the scouts' arrival proves to be almost unbearable for Jetta. For all her discipline, patience was never one of her virtues. Knowing that the culprit was almost in her grasp, yet being unable to do anything about it... Still, she hides her anxiousness well and focuses her frustrations on practical matters, helping Mairen rear the fort's defenses.
The sudden return of the messengers comes as both an annoyance and a relief.
Once with her companions, the Hellknight shakes her head and curses. "Bugbears. We should've tracked those bastards the day we arrived. We have to take care of this before we go for Vardak, or else anyone arriving from Korvosa might get waylaid as well. They have no way of knowing about the attack."
Bugbears left Balthus a little stranger than normal.
On the one hand, he seethed with hatred and anger like he was about to get up a kick a puppy. On the other hand, his outward demeanor seemed somewhat too calm, almost as if distracted.
He smiled and nodded often but inside his head, he was already killing the bugbears.
He grinned more than smiled at Jetta, catching her off guard, "Yes, Mr. Wizard will have to wait his turn. Besides nothing to do here until the scouts return. And out first task at the fort is to make sure the road is built and clear of danger."
He grinned and made a check mark in the air, "And this task qualifies..."
Anthuria groans at the this latest news. "Not more bugbears! And the children, who is tending to them now? Poor dears..."
This was the last thing they needed, now that they were so close to solving this dragon mystery. It seemed that the problems plaguing the Fort were never-ending, as though the Vale itself were fighting their very presence here. And all we really want is to establish our presence--to make our mark on this earth!
Flustered, she pipes in. "Fine, yes, of course, what choice have we? We will tend to this quickly, and then we shall face this wizard." Her sensible shoes click purposefully as she stalks toward the door. "Well? What are we waiting for?"
Working to keep himself from focusing on Vardak. Between the cubs and repairs to the Fort a project is never hard to find and he throws himself into it.
Then he hears that messengers have returned. Rushing over to hear that the bugbears are apparently causing more problems. I can be ready to go in a few minuets. How soon will the rest of you be ready.
[ooc]I need my pony as do the rest of you.[/b]
Supplies (and weapons) are gathered, horses are pulled forth from the stable (some more willingly than others, with the draconic trophies on the fort's wall), and the heroes set off to find the ruins of the settlers' wagons. The children, swaying with weariness atop the single returned horse, are quickly scooped up by a couple of the guards. As you prepare to leave, you see them being taken into the keep; Orrend follows close behind, asking fervently after spare blankets and obtaining permission to borrow the keep's spartan cooking facilities for some baking.
The site of the ambush is only eight or nine miles miles away from the fort; you reach it with only a couple hours' easy riding, though it would have seemed much longer for the injured messengers making their slow return. Rounding a bend of the trail, you come upon it suddenly - a trio of sturdily-built wagons now standing derelict and forlorn on the forest road. Their canvas covers are slashed and stained, with crude (and lewd) pictures drawn upon some of them in filth. The horses that had once drawn them lie unmoving, still harnessed to the broken wagon tongues; a couple seem to have been hastily butchered for meat, with broad chunks of flesh cut away to reveal pale bone.
Torn bits of burlap and heavy paper and remnants of packing crates litter the surrounding ground. One wagon has a chest teetering on its side off the back edge; cheery flower-print dresses and a narrow, sturdy pair of heeled leather shoes lie in a heap below where the chest rests. But there doesn't seem to be as much in the way of supplies as you'd expect for families looking to relocate to far-flung wilderness - especially where foodstuffs and tools are concerned. And, perhaps more disturbingly, there's a profound lack of bodies...
Balthus got his horse and looked around, "Shame. It's a shame really. Good people dying because of some monsters."
He turned to Amund, "I sure hope your babies turn out to be better monsters than the ones that did this."
tag?
He inspected the area, "So where are the bodies?"
________________
Jetta looks around at the ambush site, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "At least owlbears don't kill for fun."
The Hellknight searches through the wreckage, finally coming to the edge of the road. After a while she calls to the others, pointing out the furrows leading east.
"Here," she says. "See? They tried to cover their tracks."
Shooting a glare at Balthus, Jetta is right in that. Gesturing around, This was sport to them. And the bodies were most likely taken.
Looking around until Jetta mentions the tracks, Lets go then.
Anthuria gasps and places her hand to her cheek. "The horses! The children! Oh, it's pure savagery! We must find those that did this." She lingers just a moment over the bodies of the horses, daring to look, before chasing after Balthus and Jetta. "Do be careful! We know these creatures enjoy an ambush...Oh!" She nearly stumbles into the cleverly disguised path that the hellknight is examining. "What good eyes! I never would have noticed it."
"Yes, Amund has it. Let's hurry. Do you think they might still be alive?"
________
Balthus grunted as the girl in the tin can suit proved the more skilled of the two in an outdoor activity. He nodded, "Good you found the trail. I was going to check there next."
He looked at Amund, "Not so fast. The girl is right. Let's make sure we don't ambushed like this caravan did."
He whistled Slasher over, "Go on boy, take point. They're smelly enough for your old nose."
____________
Sighing and swinging himself up on Pretty Girl, Balthus I was not saying that we should run off into the woods.
Under Balthus' guidance, Slasher begins to sniff around the knot of wagons; soon, he begins to growl slightly under his breath. With the rest following behind, the hound takes off down the trail Jetta had pointed out, stopping every so often to sniff the air and re-home in on the scent of his quarry. The furrows are cunningly concealed close to the road...but concealment doesn't matter to Slasher's keen nose, and you soon reach the point where the luggage carriers seem to have given up concealing their trail, relying on distance from the road to hide their tracks.
After a couple hours' trek through the woods (all ears subconsciously cocked for even the smallest sign of movement), you reach the Petal River, a few miles north of the fort. The long furrows lead straight to the water's edge, and several broad, stumpy footprints indicate that the carriers had tromped in and out of the shallows of the water several times, presumably carrying their spoils to some kind of boat or raft. But of this guessed-at form of aquatic conveyance, no sign remains. There are no signs of a camp on either shore.
Anthuria steps right up to the river, splashing her shoe into the shallow waters of the bank. Under the surface, smooth rocks reflect the sunlight, and tiny fish the color of mud dart to and fro, reacting to the intruder."Well, what now?" she says almost sullenly. "This can't be the end of it! Maybe they've only cut across and continued straight?"
Balthus neared the edge of the water, trying to discern the depth and strength of the river.
Seeing that it was reasonably easy to cross, he noted, "I think they crossed here or at least I do not see any track that kept them on this side."
He patted Slasher, "Let's get across and see if we can pick the trail on the other side."
________
Cautiously, Balthus makes his way across the river, Slasher splashing disdainfully after him. At this point, the river is fairly smooth, and while Slasher is occasionally forced to swim, Balthus never finds himself in any deeper than his chest. Together, the pair makes it to the opposite side of the river without incident, and Balthus begins to examine the ground for tracks while Slasher sniffs for the pungent reek he'd picked up at the site of the attack...
...but neither has any luck. Slasher loses interest in the search after several minutes' searching when it becomes clear no scent is forthcoming, and Balthus finds no more of the broad, stumpy footprints. In fact, he's certain the goblinoids haven't disembarked on this bank, even along a disguised trail, and he combs over several hundred yards of shoreline to be certain of it.
A very wet Balthus goes back to the other side and informs the rest of the crew what he found or more like what he didn't find.
"Nothing. They never crossed. So we've been duped. They must have backtracked and taken a side road off the main road."
He moved out of the way as Slasher shook himself dry. "Nothing to do but go back and try and see where the trail veered off."
----------------
add +2 if in forest, +4 if goblinoid (+2 if human), and +3 if 'tracking'
I'm assuming we found nothing on the side before crossing.
Anthuria wrinkles her brow. "Duped? What clue did we miss? These must be crafty creatures, indeed, to outsmart Slasher. And you, too, Balthus."
She climbs carefully back into her saddle. She's done it enough by now to have a feel for it. "Well, any other ideas?"
Jetta removes her helmet to wipe some sweat off her brow, looking puzzledly at the river. "Are you sure they didn't simply get on a boat and travel further up or down the stream? Their camp could be up in the mountains, or somewhere on the edges of Mist Lake."
Jetta removes her helmet to wipe some sweat off her brow, looking puzzledly at the river. "Are you sure they didn't simply get on a boat and travel further up or down the stream? Their camp could be up in the mountains, or somewhere on the edges of Mist Lake."
Balthus shrugged, "It could be but the water transport must have been in the water. Otherwise, we would have seen signs of canoes or something on the shore waiting foo them. Maybe their buddies came by and picked them up."
He added, "Unless we have better information, we should backtrack and find out where they veered off."
Shaking his head slightly, "I doubt that they went down stream. Far to close to the Fort. We can recheck the trail, since we are already hear and the start up the stream."
Turning from the riverbank (still dripping slightly from his trip), Balthus begins making his cautious way back down the travois trail; everyone follows behind, keeping eyes peeled for any stray footprints or diverging paths. But even with every eye warily watching the trail's edges, no alternate way presents itself - it looks as if the retinue of bugbears and their load traveled straight from the ambush to the river, with none straying away. (Except in a couple of places...but the diversions were only temporary, and Balthus immediately finds reeking evidence of the reason for the pit stops. Slasher is not amused at the finds.)
The ranger frowned. he really did hate bugbears and could not let the monsters live. He idly wondered what would happen if they come upon baby bugbears.
He turned to his companions, "They must have used the river. Either with their own transport or someone came and picked them up. If we want to get to them, we must travel by the river's shore, either upstream or downstream, and seek them out."
He looked at the setting sun, "Is that something you all want to do now or wait until morning?"
Sighing tiredly and running his hands though his hair, We have already spent a fair amount of time on this. Not sure how tracking would work with night coming though. But my vote would be to go up steam.
Not one to say 'I told you so,' Jetta simply nods as Balthus comes to the same conclusion that she had earlier. "I'm good to go for a few more hours, though I'm not so keen on choosing the direction at random. We can't waste time by following the wrong lead..."
The Hellknight turns to Anthuria and says, "Could you, uh... ask the birds?"
"I can try..." Anthuria replies uncertainly, "though they don't seem to be very bright creatures."
Anthuria whistles a sing-song tune, hoping to catch the attention of a series of butter bananaquits she had seen frolicking in a nearby shrubbery.
Anthuria's tune echoes through the trees; soon, bananaquits, jays, and nuthatches flock to the trees on the river's edge, with even a curious mockingbird or two joining the fray. At Anthuria's question about boat-bound travelers, a few heads dart beneath wings, peeping out nervously between feathers. As a wren and a cardinal take it in turns to explain (with much chirping in agreement), the "smell-bad boar-face two-legs" on their "down-tree-cut water-perch" seemed to find great enjoyment in throwing stones at hapless warblers on the water-side as they rode the current lazily.
Others report having seen a raft with the same crude breed of inhabitants coming ashore several miles downstream, where they had stayed a few hours until the sun dipped beneath the horizon (certainly no bright feathers were showing at that beach). When night had fallen, they had pushed back out into the river, lying flat with a heavy cloth covering their load and themselves; one jackdaw even reports nearly alighting on it for a rest, until the smell had driven him away. Such a boat, floating with the current rather than paddling and making noise, would have been nearly impossible to see in the darkness of the Vale night, and even more difficult to recognize for what it truly was. (Perhaps especially so with most eyes subconsciously trained on the sky after the drake attacks.)
Balthus nodded, "OK not bad for bird brains. I think we are getting somewhere. It sounds like they went downstream on some sort of boat/raft."
He turned to the girl, "Ask them if they know where the boar-faces live?"
Anthuria lowers her arm from her face, no longer mimicking the frightened bird shying away behind a wing.
"Um, right..." She relays the question to the birds.
|
"The Order gives me purpose. I've never been, you know... very smart. I really needed structure in my life, and the Order gave me that. I've few talents, but this is something I can do. I can do it well. There are a lot of things wrong in Korvosa, and I have chance to make them right. That's what we're doing here, too. We're keeping these people safe, and making things better for the people back home. Is that not reason enough?"
"I suppose it is." he said.
'But to what end?'Throughout the bugbear hunt, Percival remained quiet.
The birds describe the bugbears' home as being a "dark-to-dark on-wing" distant and mention its proximity to the water's edge, though their odd descriptions of landmarks leave you uncertain as to its precise location. But the avian chatter does serve to confirm that they traveled by water for at least some way, and that their ultimate destination is river-side - with that, traveling along the river's east bank seems the most prudent course of action. Unfortunately, though, with the trip through the woods and the time spent examining the river's surrounds, only a few hours' daylight remain.
The light holds out long enough for you to scour the east bank of the river between the bugbears' departure point and the Petal River bridge. You are able to confirm the flock's story about the bugbears setting ashore briefly to conceal themselves - the area where they landed is rife with footprints, churned-up and dried mud, and torn plants. But curiously, Balthus also comes across a line of footprints leading away from where the raft came ashore, leading deeper into the thick forest north of Mist Lake.
Jetta nods emphatically. "I've seen what bugbears do to their prisoners. We shouldn't tarry."
"If they took their prisoners into the woods then we should follow that path."
Jetta nods emphatically. "I've seen what bugbears do to their prisoners. We shouldn't tarry."
The ranger looked at the evidence again, "I think we walk close to the river shore and keep our eyes open. I'll have Slasher sniff them out."
He looked at the group, "It's late in the day but I am ready to go now if you all are. if not, we can camp out and head out in the morning."
--------
"I think we walk close to the river shore and keep our eyes open. I'll have Slasher sniff them out."
"That's probably best," Anthuria agrees. "That way we'll have an eye on both land and water. I say we trek on. Each minute that passes is another that our friends are in the custody of those creatures."
Nodding with Perry's words, "Were the people taken from the river?"
Several minutes of discussion go by...and the question of which path to follow still hangs heavy in the air. Balthus and Anthuria advocate to follow the water's path, where the birds' witness makes it certain the bugbears have passed; the pair also make the point that, while it may not be known for certain where, the bugbears' home camp is known to be somewhere along the water's edge. Jetta and Amund, on the other hand, argue that the footpath through the woods is more likely to quickly yield contact with the attackers, and that tracking creatures traveling by water is not likely to yield a clear trail.
With dusk beginning to fall fast, though, the final agreement is to travel by the river's bank; the path is easier along the river's edge, and with no covering of trees it should prove easier to take advantage of every bit of fading light for the search. And so everyone re-mounts, urging their horses on and taking off at the fastest pace manageable in the gathering shadows. As night falls, distant details become harder to see, and the world becomes a softened haze of greys and blacks - except to the horses and the young representative of Theumanexus College, who find that the moonlight and starlight are more than enough to keep the world awash in muted color and crisp lines.
The ride continues well into the night, until the party arrives at the shore of Mist Lake with all eyes drooping and a few heads beginning to nod. Fresh in everyone's mind is the spectral battlefield this shore had been on the last visit; the eternal clash of swords and hammers, the bodies as still in memory as they had been a thousand years ago. But it seems that now, in the ethereal moonlight veiled by the lake's vapors, what was once a dream has now become reality - though with the combatants much changed.
The remnants of a cobbled-together wooden raft jut up from the lake's shallows; burlap bags and wooden crates have been hauled onto the lake shore just above the water line, sodden and messy. Scattered on the sand and rocks are several unmoving forms, some slender and pale, others hulking with rough edges suggesting patchy hair. Two, the closest to where you've approached, even seem to have long, muscular tails; as you draw closer to search the scene, one of these stirs slightly, turning to look at you with narrow reptilian eyes reflecting the starlight.
Thesse yourss? a high, sibilant voice replies, the words hesitant and the voice even more hoarse than the other lizardfolk you encountered, at the conclave so short and so long a time ago. From big wood housse?
Kassmak...yess. The lizardfolk woman shifts to her side with a hiss of discomfort, supporting herself on one arm. As she moves, several unpleasant injuries come into view, though she seems to be out of mortal danger. Kassmak hear watcherss ssay enikassh - From her derisive tone and the glare she shoots at the nearest bugbear, you take the Draconic word to refer to their kind. - enikassh on water with ssoft-sskin dead. Ssay ssoft-sskinss eat not dead, put them under earth. A faint note of confusion enters her voice at the idea of burial of the dead. Enikassh do - have taken, eaten many our kind.
Kassmak ssay we get ssoft-sskin dead, bring to big wood housse. That ssoft-sskinss be happy. Sso we fight enikassh, in water, then on ssand. She shifts again, pushing herself up into a sitting position. They fight good. I hurt, beaten. Other fighterss help me, maybe? Otherss go to get new boat, maybe, or cut-fix magic. I wake, hear you come. Then, suddenly and incongruously, she looks almost bashful. Ssorry - have not many ssoft-sskin wordss.
|
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"Thank you for your efforts," Percival said, approaching the she-lizard and her possibly-stabilized companion, and raised his hand to the sky, before releasing a pulse of energy.
"Does anyone here hear me?" he called out across the lake. "Is anyone awake?"
He then tread through the waters, boots sloshing against the waters, stopping at the six human forms.
He paused.
"Loath am I to disturb your sleep, but you are needed."
Anthuria dashes to the side of the injured lizard woman's side, bereft of any idea how to treat her wounds.
In a fluster, she begins ripping the hem of her tunic, creating some sort of bandage for the wounds. It doesn't seem to occur to her that they've brought healing supplies, or a priest.
It's only after Lord Arizian's healing spell that she sits back, breathing hard. "What is your name?" she asks the woman. "And these others?" She looks out over the scene of the fight, searching for other signs of life.
Balthus' face twists into a grimace; he really hated bugbears and berated himself for all the death they caused, both human and their new allies.
He apologizes, "We came as quick as we could but got sidetracked on our way here. I'm sorry we could not be any help."
He then adds, "We can help you take your comrades back if you wish."
"And these others?" She looks out over the scene of the fight, searching for other signs of life.
Jetta stops to look at the bodies, taking in the scene of the carnage. Her face is impassive, but the leather in her gauntlets creaks audibly as she tightens her grip on her weapon. "They're all dead."
The Hellknight steps up to the lizardfolk, kneeling next to Anthuria. "Not all of them came this way. Where do the enikassh make their nest?"
Crouching over the fallen humans, "They were dead before they got here. The bugbears most likely killed them and brought the corpses back."
Turning his head to listen to the reply from Jetta's question.
The lizardfolk woman sighs audibly in relief as Percival's healing energy washes over her; though there are still several cuts only half-healed, she rises to her feat steadily. The same cannot be said, however, of the rest of the figures present - all remain unmoving despite the warm glow of positive energy washing over them. Miirym name, and Murh, she adds with a nod to her fallen comrade. Miirym thankss friendss. Ssad, could not ssave any. With her tail, she gestures toward the still humans. But they go you now, yess? My kind back ssoon - not let food wasste. Bring boatss. Can help take ssoft-sskin dead big wood housse.
At Jetta's question, Miirym erupts in a soft hiss. Enikassh live by river - usse boatss come sswamp, attack Turessk. Live far, not far enough. Half-day sswim from Turessk sswamp, on bend passt ssoft-sskin sstone path. Iss blood-flower wallss around nesst, but not at water. Water iss besst way to go, but watched. Were many - now lesss. Looking at the dead bugbears, she half-smiles with a hint of pride.
True to Miirym's word, as you converse, two wide, low boats seem to propel themselves out of the mist and onto the lake shore; from behind them, four lizardfolk emerge, one wearing a scaled headdress and clutching a carved bone fetish. Seeing Miirym standing, the lizardfolk rush toward her, conversing in celebratory Draconic, while the shamanic-looking one kneels over the dead lizardman and begins what sounds like some sort of last rite. As the rolling chant continues, the others begin to lift the human bodies into one boat, laying them on the gently swaying floor; soon, all are ready to travel the rivers of the Vale, as their spirits travel the River of Souls.
Can take thesse, if ssoft-sskinss musst sstrike enikassh, Miirym offers as her companions haul the boats back into the water. Will ssee them to big wood housse ssafely. Can take friendss as well, if wissh go back?
With the threat of prisoners no longer an issue, Balthus looked at the weary party. "We can take our time to exterminate the bugbears. I rather you all were in good fighting condition."
He looked at the dead and potential ghosts from the lake. "Let's spend the night... close by here and then strike in the morning."
Shaking his head, "If we return to the Fort we are much closer to where the bugbears hopefully are. We would get better rest there and have less of a journey in the morning."