Luthor held the Grigs gaze for many long seconds, smiling back widely and even producing another wink. Rikka gave both the stink eye in equal measure. "A gift you say?" He mused, clearly enjoying this odd and fantastical company. "I dont suppose I can owe you a favor? Or maybe you would tell us just because it would be the selfless thing to do?" He sat quiet a moment, then laughed. "No, I suppose not. Tell me though, what kind of gift does a Grig like yourself desire? Im not too well versed in what females of my own kind want for gifts, so guessing what you would want probably wont do me much good."
Tyg bugs her eyes out again and rolls them dramatically. "No, no, no! My auntie's-mother's-sister's-daughter's-grandfather always said that he'd rather owe someone than cheat them out of it! I know what "owe means! It means you'll never come through!" As Luthor mentions the word 'guess', her face lights up and she takes flight, getting a few feet up before her wings stick together again and she goes crashing back down. "Ooh, a game! A guessing game! What do you have? I like food and music and shiny stuff and food and spirits and potions and artwork and tobaccy and food and shiny stuff and food! Guess what I like!"
Luthor produced a mock hurt look. "I would too come through." Reaching out a hand, he tried to catch he as her flight failed her, chuckling at her antics. "Guessing game?"
Listening to what she liked, he looked thoughtful a moment. "Well you did say food alot." He mumbled, his mouth covered by one hand as he stroked his chin. "But I dont think we have anything particularly tasty. Shiny stuff though..." He looked at Rikka, who instantly perked up at being useful. Dashing off towards the tents, she quickly picked one, sitting by it and squeaking a few times whilst waving he paws high in the air. "Ill be right back." He said, then walked to the tent to see what it was Rikka had found.
This is, without a doubt, the strangest conversation I've ever partaken in, Kazimir thinks in bemusement, "Well, mighty spirits of the Narlmarch," he begins, bowing his head slightly to the faerie dragon hovering at eye-level, "I am but a poor, simple bigins who likes to know what kind of danger may be ahead, so that I can protect those smaller than myself from the evils of the world. To do this, I would appreciate your aid, and bow to your superior knowledge of the surrounds. I may not have much, but I humbly offer these shiny coins to you both as a gesture of good faith." Digging in his belt-pouch, he eventually produces two gold coins, handing one to each of the fey creatures in turn.
"In addition," he continues, remembering the leather scraps in his pack, "were you to be our guides, you'd need fancy uniforms. I believe I could help with that."
Both Tyg and Perli start laughing again at Kazimir's speech, Tyg rubbing her legs together in a series of violin-like screeches and Perli fluttering back into the dirt again. Tyg recovers first, looking at Rikka and Luthor suspiciously, trying to figure out what they're doing. Perli flits to a nearby tree-branch, staring at Kazimir with his orange cat-like eyes.
There's a long pause in the fey's antics, with the grig occasionally letting out a burst of a buzzing yet melodic language, vaguely similar to elven yet different enough as to be incomprehensible. Perli doesn't respond, but Tyg's face turns first questioning, then angry, before finally settling into a pout. Their conversation ending, the two fey begin staring in Luthor's direction, both not blinking and both seeming to have forgotten the other members of the party.
"But! But! But the grumpy-bigins needs to be taught to lighten up! He only gave us stuff once!"
"Can I at least wait for the strange-cat-loving-bigins to give me a gift? I wanna know what he found!"
"Okay, we'll wait, but then we'll play nice...for a while."
Meanwhile, Rikka and Luthor's search of the tent has revealed two earrings, one of which was half-buried in the dirt and gravel beneath the tent, and the other of which was deeper. The tarnished silver earrings depict a pair of waterlogged rats hanging by their tails, but though the subject matter is not particularly pleasant, the craftsmanship is superb. In addition, there's a wooden box, covered with dirt and mud, with a little handle sticking out. When Luthor touches the handle, a series of five muffled but high-pitched sounds emit from the box, echoing across the camp.
"That ent music, is it? I looooooove music!" Tyg takes wing again, alternately flying and falling her way over to Luthor and Rikka.
At first feeling triumphant at the discovery of the rings, Luthor quickly scooped them into one of his component pouches as he heard Tygs approval of the music box. "This will probably please them more." He said, picking up the music box and cranking it as he got out of the tent and walked back to the others. "Hopefully its worth less than the ear rings." He added, mostly to himself but none the less muttered loud enough for Rikka to hear.
"Indeed it is music." He exclaimed as Tyg came buzzing towards him. "We call it a music box." He added, crouching down and holding it forward, still turning the crank. "Do you like it?"
Watching Kazimir interact with the fey brings a smile to Laliytsa's lips. His attempts at fey diplomacy are very sweet.
Preoccupied by her thoughts, she's caught off guard when the music box starts playing. She jumps slightly, surprise giving way to embarrassment; she keeps moving forward towards the faerie dragon in hopes that it will cover up her startled jump. Laliytsa looks up at fey perched in the tree. "Perli? I was wonderin', who is this 'trapper man' Tyg mentioned? A local?"
As the (WARNING, SOUND) music box begins to play, the little fey listens, enraptured. When the music stops after a few seconds, she flits up to Luthor's arm, pushing down on the crank-handle and slowly winding it back up. "Again, again! Play it again!"
While Tyg plays with the music-box over and over, the faerie dragon looks at Laliytsa, Kazimir, and Daen. "Well, you ent so bad, I guess. I'm Perlivash, and she's Tyg-Titter-Tut. I can draw you's a map, if you bring me lots and lots of little sticks. There's a wonderful place with hot water on the stinky river, if you don't mind the stinkiness, and a big ol' building just maybe a day away, with a big mean thing inside. You should look at it! It's soooooo big and mean!" With a steady supply of sticks, Perlivash creates a rough map of the area, pausing to look at Laliytsa. "The trapper man? I dunno nothing about the trapper man. Not sure what she's talking about anyways. Sometimes she gets these ideas in her head about stuff, and she just...gets carried away."
It's pretty clear that Perli isn't being entirely truthful about the trapper man.
With the map finished, Tyg waits for a second before piping up again. "Hey, lissen, this music box is pretty great. Perli, we gots to get these biginses to take it to our nest!" Tyg flies over to perch on Daen's head, while Perlivash takes a similar position atop Laliytsa. "Just go up the river, and keep going until we say stop!"
The half elf looks with interest at the "map", doing his best to commit it to memory. None of what they were describing had any place that could fit the bandit's description of where the Stag Lord's stronghold was. Regardless, this map was the most accurate of the area, so it helped to keep such things in mind.
A slightly angry eyebrow raises at the idea of being used as a mount for the tiny creature. "I'll give you a ride for a while, if you give me a ride later. It's only fair." Waiting for a beat, he then proceeds. "I'm joking."
Somewhat embarrassed by the fey laughter, Kazimir blinks in confusion before deciding to join in with a chuckle. Catching Laliytsa's eye, he briefly returns it with one of his own and a shrug, as if to apologise for the shrill laughter.
He crouches to watch Perlivash make the map, trying to study the area - and read the strange mannerisms of the creature.
"Perli?" he asks carefully. "I don't think you're being entirely honest about the trapper man. Why don't you tell us what you know?" After a moment's hesitation, he adds, "You aren't in trouble, Perli." After all, it worked on children - maybe it would help now.
From her place on Daen's head, Tyg shakes her head rapidly. "I just told your friend that I ent that kind of girl! Hahaha, haha! But, really, have you ever seen a grig that big!? Because if you have, I'd like to hear about it. I hear there's spells and magic that'll do it! Ooh, idea! You make me bigger and you smaller, and I'll give you a piggie-back ride! But first, we gots to get going! Long ways to our hidey-house!" The grig rubs her circket-legs together, producing a loud, violin-like sound.
Tyg falls silent as she overhears Kaz's question. Shooting a look at Perli, she shakes her head again, this time more rapidly. "You ent gonna tell them nothing, right? Right?"
Perli looks away, flitting slowly over to Kazimir's head, where he makes a new perch. "I wanna talk with this bigins. Everyone else, go away!"
Laliytsa shakes her head at the fey's antics. A smile plays on her lips. Truthfully she's always liked socializing with the fey. Between their mischief and strange sort of innocence they remind her of her younger cousins.
She turns her attention to the crude map in the dirt. If she twists her head she can kind of make out what the map shows; as long as those squiggly lines are the rivers. Since Perli is busy talking Kazimir she turns to Tyg for answers. "Miss Tyg? If'n we follow the river we'll reach your nest, right? How far from there to the big mean thing?"
Luthor pulled out paper and quill, crouching by the crude map. "Ill see about putting this down for later." He said, beginning to scribble, with his tongue sticking out in concentration. Occasionally, Rikka would squeak softly, pointing at something on the map, to which Luthor would either nod and agree or shake his head and mumble some explanation.
He looked up from his work as there was mention of hearing more about this Trapper-man, but quickly returned to scribbling as it became clear he would have to wait to hear it from Kaz.
Tyg looks at Laliytsa from Daen's head. "Oooh! I'll show ya! Just-just lemme see that map!" Fluttering down to the stick-map, she drags one of her arms across the dirt, drawing a rough line up the river. "First you gots to go up the river until the big-big fir tree. That's where we live! Then, you gotta go through the woods til you get to the big rock outcrop, around it, through the creek, across the blown-down clearing, up a hill, down the other side, back through a different creek, between the twin spruces, and you'll see some weird upright stones, with a gigantic horned head behind it. That's where the big mean thing lives, and boy is it mean!"
She looks at the sky, where massive thunderheads have begun to form. "Maybe we should be going tomorrow instead of now, though. Ent going to be good flying weather tonight. No, ent at all!"
Kazimir watches Perli carefully as the faerie dragon hangs off his head, telling his tale. Eventually, he sighs, reaching up a hand to tickle the underside of the creature's chin. "So the bad trapper-man left his nasty teeth-traps in places where anything - or anyone - could get hurt, and he didn't care if he caught things like your brother. So you and Tyg... What, set up his own trap to catch him instead?" he asks, trying to make sure he has all the facts in order. "How long ago did he have his... 'accident'? Do you know if he's stuck there still?"
Perlivash kneeds Kazimir's hair, shaping it into a comfortable bed (and messing it up something awful) before rolling over and exposing his neck to more scratching. He shoots a quick stinkeye at the paladin. "Oooh, you can't keep secrets at all! I don't think I can tell you more right now. Maybe tonight, though...In the meantime, a little lower and to the right!"
After a few minutes, the two fey seem to lose interest in the 'biginses', with Tyg-Titter-Tut leading Perlivash to one of the scorched tents. There, his tiny jaws quickly cut a good-sized section off, while Tyg finds suitable sticks. Before too long, they've pitches a two-foot-tall tent and decorated it with dried leaves, a few early-blooming flowers, and a mouse skull, which they hang over the door. Their work done, they stand back to admire their handiwork before they part ways, Tyg fluttering to Luthor's shoulder (where she badgers him into moving the music-box over to their tent) and Perli falling asleep inside (his snores are surprisingly loud for something so small).
Once the music-box is moved over to their tiny tent, Tyg sits by the fire and watches as the party eats, suppressing a yawn every so often. After an uncomfortable silence, she looks up, suddenly hopeful. "I know a song! I could play-sing a song, if you'd like! Actually, I know several..."
Rubbing her legs together a few times, Tyg coughs and launches into a jumpy, hoppy rhythm. After a bit, she starts to sing, her voice high and reedy.
"I’ll sing you a song that is really quite true
Started out as a legend and then, well, it grew
And it deals with a lass, and a lord, and a heart
So settle on in and our song we shall start
It happened one day quite a long time ago
In a world not above but also not below
A woman of astounding beauty was she
And though lord of shadows, quite charming was he
But though she did love him, the green lady knew
That a lass of her station would never prove true
To the powers that ruled there, aside her dear lord
And so might and beauty she began to hoard
For time beyond reasoning the green lass did scheme
And a realm alongside her lord’s became her dream
With her mighty will did the lady change space
Until she’d created her very own place
And then, to the eldest, she declared her might
Though she knew the eldest would see it a slight
The old ones, together set out to teach
The lady the errs of her overreach
The twins and the mother, her heart they did tear
From her chest and her lands they did render bare
While the poor lord the many they did confront
They cast him below for his horrid affront
And that is the tale of a long-ago day
of a lady in green and a lord all in gray
Now remember my young ones, your time’s just begun
Remember your place, but let’s go have some fun!"
Her song complete, she smiles bashfully at Luthor. "I dunno what it means. My faerie god-mother always used to sing it, and it stuck. I know some more, but maybe some other night, eh?" She takes a few steps away from the fire before jumping into the air and ducking into her tent, where she snuggles up close to Perli. The faerie dragon wraps a wing around her, and before long, her snores join his.
Through Luthor's watch, the only sounds to be heard are the two fey, snoring loudly. Occasionally Tyg mutters a random word, like "mother", "lass", or "true", but the watch goes smoothly and without any real hitches, although it does start to rain halfway through.
Kazimir's first while on duty is even more boring, as Perlivash's loud, sonorous snores stop. After perhaps a half-hour, the little dragon lands on his head, holding a large leaf to cover his own in his teeth, and begins striking up a conversation. "Look, now, when I say you can't be shouting stuff off for everyone to hear, I mean they're secrets! There's lots of bad biginses, and I don't even know you. Tyg's just joking when she says she's not that kind of girl, but I'm serious, I ent that kind of dragon. Can you promise not to go shouting everything all around all the time? Can't be telling your friends, not while Tyg's around." His words are a bit muffled, but he gets the message across.
As Daen takes the watch, he notices a brief flickering in the sky, and all the stars seem to rotate quickly for just a fraction of a second before snapping back to their places. For most of the rest of his watch, a handful of small white flowers (including those on the fey's tent) give off a faint luminescent glow in the dark night.
The rain continues throughout Laliytsa's watch until the wee hours of the morning, when it turns to a light snow. As a weak grey dawn breaks, the sounds of a music box being played awakens the camp. the two fey quickly knock their tent down, throwing twigs, flowers, and skull into the woods and returning their cloth to the tent from whence it came. Shivering, Perli huddles up against Daen, while Tyg does the same with Luthor, trying to squirm her way inside his clothes for more warmth. "I know I said I ent that kind of girl, b-b-but it's c-cold!"
Laliytsa pokes at the fire to keep it going. She likes having the last watch; it's a privilege to see the dawn every morning. There's bits of snow left in her hair but she doesn't seem to mind.
"We got options" she says once everyone's out of their tents. "Me, I wanna get the fey home an' then see this 'big mean thing'"
Waking up next to a sleeping faerie dragon was a unique, but not altogether an unpleasant experience. In his boyish fantasies, it was much different, but at least Faerie Dragon breath smelled surprisingly floral. Daen let the sleeping dragon lie as he arose for the day, planning on a little martial exercise in the morning to keep his skills sharp.
"Personally, I believe it to be more efficient to continue on our first path, but it would also be good to discover and deal with the more interesting places first. In short, we have a lot to do, and it doesn't really matter which order we do them, except for a few wasted days. If you feel strongly about it, I don't mind switching to your plan."
As the others set up their tents, Kazimir instead busies himself setting Surefoot up for the night, taking off his tack and replacing it with an old, thick woollen blanket. After making sure sure he has room to graze, he sets up his own bedroll and sheds his armour, sitting in his worn clothes and staring into the fire.
When Tyg starts up her song, it brings a smile to his face. After a couple of verses, he begins clapping along, providing a rhythm to the fey's song, ending with a polite smattering of applause when she finishes. "That was a lovely song, Tyg," he grins. "Perhaps you could sing us another tomorrow?"
After donning his armour for his watch - the encounter with the worg had been a healthy reminder that it was a good habit to get into - Kazimir flps up his hood to keep the rain off, setting his back to a tree and attempting to keep the fire going.
He doesn't sigh when Perlivash lands on his head - truth be told, he doesn't mind the tiny dragon's antics. He reaches up to idly scratch his chin again, listening to his chiding and scolding.
Eventually, he says, "Have to say I agree with you, Perli. Where I come from, there weren't many secrets that needed keeping, so I guess I'm still learning. In future, I'll try to keep m big mouth shut," he adds, trying to lighten the tone. "I noticed earlier, you spoke, by nobody else seemed to hear it. When you do that, is there a way I can answer back? You know, so only you can hear?"
Upon waking, Kazimir yawns and stretches, before kneeling in brief but thorough prayer and packing his bedroll away after shaking the snow from it. "For my part, I'd like to see this 'big mean thing'. It sounds from Tyg's description as though it could be the temple I'm looking for. Upright stones, a horned head, a big mean thing..." He shrugs, getting back into his patched armour again. "It sounds as though you had a plan you intended to keep to, though."
He rolls over to let Kazimir scratch better. "Yeah, right there!"
The two fey huddle against their respective people. "Our home is just up the river, and from there, it's an easy trip to the big-elk-head. Well, not easy, but... You remember my directions, right?" Tyg speaks up from her spot.
"Yeah, you can go see it after you take us home, won't be more than a couple days out of the way. Well, more if you stop and visit with us on the way out, but..." Perlivash flaps his wings, blowing a fine dust of snow toward Kazimir's face.
"Think colourful and loud," Kazimir muses, scratching the directed spot with one blunt nail. "Well, if you're sure he was bad, then I guess you did a good thing," he says finally. "I'll have to keep an eye out for him, though. At the very least, nobody deserves to be left in the open to rot, no matter how mean they are."
Kaz wipes his face on his sleeve, which does little to help. "I'm sure we can manage that. Shall we be off, then?"
Before long, the sun burns through the clouds, shining brightly on the snow-covered trees. Tyg hums a few bars, playing notes on her legs, but for the most part, she's content to nap on Luthor's horse, occasionally shooting the stink-eye at Rikka. Perlivash does the same on Kazimir's head, though he occasionally looks up suddenly, eyes pointing off into the woods for a minute at a time before settling back down.
The Thorn River lives up to its name, with patches of spiny bushes clustering against the banks. The thorns jab into the legs of horses, causing discomfort and annoyance to animal and rider alike, but none of the scrapes look particularly deep. Even the trees along this section of the river are different, their bark thick, ridged, and gnarled near the ground and smooth further up.
It's deep in one of these thorn-patches that Perlivash suddenly wakes up, leaping from Kazimir's head. "Baugh! Grumpy-Pigs!" Tyg-Titter-Tut quickly joins him, flapping to a safe place in a nearby tree. A grunting sound follows just a few seconds behind, and a group of boars make their way out of the briar-patches, sniffing along the muddy ground. One of them looks up from its sniffling, pointing its squinty eyes and razor tusks at the party, looks back down, and then looks up again with a "squooee!" of surprise.
Daen had been quite good with the sword in close combat, but it didn't mean that it was terribly useful in scouting missions like this. He kept his sword in the scabbard and kept his bow in hand, laid across his lap as they traveled. The sword could come out easily enough should the occasion arise.
When the pigs showed up, Daen figured an arrow would either scare them off or they'd charge anyway, so it was worth a shot. He pulled his bow up and it lit up with blue eldritch energy as he let the arrow fly.
"Oh bother!" Luther yelped. Like Daen he was quite aware of what was likely to come next, boars being how they are. "Better not end up falling of and breaking your neck." He thought to himself, before clambering down from his horse, making sure it was between him and the boars.
Laliytsa scrambles down off her horse. She studies to animals to try and guess what kind of swine they are. Either way she knows they fall under the universal rule that Pigs are Mean and Nasty.
"Dont trust a single strike to kill them, boars will often keep fighting even after they should be dead." Luthor called out, his delivery sounding more like he was reciting from the memory of a book passage than any personal experience.
The boars did not immediately start off, but it was probably because the first arrow didn't even get close. After that first shot fired so woefully short, the second was a bit more on target as he adjusted.
The boars continue to blink stupidly, though one of them squeals loudly as Daen's second arrow slams into its flank.
"Well, it worked last time." Luthor said, reaching into one of his component pouches, the particular pocket he dug into bearing signs of frequent use. Uttering arcane words with a confidence he did not have, he weaved his arms in a hypnotic pattern, before throwing a handful of sand towards the boars. Carried on a magical breeze, the dust shot towards then, before lazily drifting down upon their heads. "Hopefully it will again."
One of the boars snorts loudly, sneezes a few times, and falls asleep, while a second seems to shrug off Luthor's spell. The third is completely unaffected. The two still awake see-saw forward, bouncing from front legs to back as they charge Daen and Laliytsa.
LaLiytsa gasps as the boar slams into her. One of the animal's tusks hits a weak spot in her armor. It buries deep into her her side. Blood fountains out as she pulls away. She knows she's in deep, deep trouble. With her hands pressed over the gaping wound she turns and runs back the way they came.
He was feeling pretty good about himself when the boars rushed him. He wasn't exactly sure what happened next, but the world virtually exploded in blood and pain as he and Lalytsa were hit at the same time. Daen takes a step back from the boars, dropping the bow half out of shock and half because he didn't want to die without his sword in his hand. His hand slipped off the pommel, and he put his hands up in a defensive position. "Hells" He murmured as his head swam.
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"Oh Gods, no!" Luthor called out as events unfurled before him, going from bad to worse as his companions were dealt gruesome blows. Noting Laliystas mobility and the sluggish way in which Daen was trying to remain standing, he leapt forward. "I will be with you as soon as I can." He called back, rushing to Daen, hand reaching for the half-elfs gushing wound.
Kazimir stares in stunned horror as Laliytsa staggers back, and Daen struggles to stay upright. A wave of relief washes over him as Luthor springs into action, healing Daen in a flash, yet the beasts remained standing. "Come on, Surefoot!" he calls, kicking the old horse into action and charging for one of the boars.
Unfortunately, in his own distress, he has trouble guiding with his knees; he grips the reins tightly with his shield-arm, leaving the shield strapped to his back and cursing his own bad luck. He still manages to keep his lance steady under one arm as he thunders toward the boar.
Surefoot's hooves find only the dirt near the boar (red), but Kazimir's lance punches into its chest, sinking deep just below the thick neck. The strain of the impact bends the lance, and Kazimir feels it in his shoulder, but the boar stays on its feet. It wheels, swinging its tusks at Surefoot, and blood gushes from its wound. The other boar (pink) slows, but continues pushing toward Daen, ripping a gash into the half-elf's arm.
As the boar worries Daen, a burst of colors and a smell of cinnamon and sugar that's sickeningly sweet emanates from the brambles to its side. The boar seems to slow, shaking its meaty head back and forth and wobbling on its feet.
Looking back at Laliytsa again with a worried frown, Luthor called to her "Stay back, I will get to you, I promise." He then quickly turned to Daen again, weaving a spell which produced a warm red glow, at once reassuring and strangely foreboding.
Laliytsa nods and stays back. The wound is causing her a considerable amount of pain but she refuses to sit back and do nothing; her comrades are in danger and she's going to do something about it. She pulls out her longbow a draws it. The pain makes her wince. Her arms shake and her aim suffers for it
Daen pulls his sword, stepping up between the two pigs. With a flick of his wrist and a word of power, it began to faintly glow blue in it's eldritch strength as he brought the blade to bear against the wounded boar. The spell Luthor cast upon him was one familiar to him, and it was a welcome event. He felt quite emboldened with the healing power coursing through his veins. Giving Luthor thanks for the support was on his mind, but it was more important that he finish off one of their threats.
If you are able to take only a standard action on your turn, you can still charge, but you are only allowed to move up to your speed (instead of up to double your speed) and you cannot draw a weapon unless you possess the Quick Draw feat. You can't use this option unless you are restricted to taking only a standard action on your turn.
"Woah, easy, old boy," Kazimir mutters, tugging gently at Surefoot's reins. The horse's panicked, violent motions make it impossible for him to balance without his hands; he wisely elects to keep one hand on the reins as he lets his lance fall and draws his axe, before swinging down at one boar. Surefoot follows suit, lurching forward, hooves flailing clumsily at the other, nearly dislodging his rider in the process.
Daen's blade rips across the (red) boar's snout, while Kazimir's axe catches it in the back. Its powerful front legs shake and it collapses into the muddy dirt, breathing laboriously a couple of times before dying. The other boar (pink) swings its huge head almost drunkenly, missing Daen's stomach by a few inches.
Perli shimmers and disappears from view
"Once more, old friend. Come on, we've got this," Kaz murmurs to his old horse, finally able to release the reins and draw his shield. Blasted thing looks like its on its last legs anyway, but you never know, he reminds himself, strapping the heavy wooden thing to his arm. He takes a swing at the still-standing boar, but nearly slips in the saddle, his axe going wide and barely even skimming the beast's bristles. Surefoot doesn't fare much better, his hooves slamming only into mud, whinnying in fear.
Stepping over to flank again with Kaz, Daen Swings his sword expertly, digging the tip into the boar's tough hide. "You'd best run little piggy. You won't be able to outlast us." Slightly misjudging the thickness of it's skin, it seems as if the mark he made was barely more than a scratch.