Gavriil's mad dash to skewer the bear was in vein, though. As he dashed across the courtyard, Dregan's arrow shot past him and struck the bear in the eye, killing it. Gavriil stopped short as he watched the bear transform from a bear to a man to a skeleton and finally to dust. He glanced around at the others, unable to speak. Naralesh's question broke him from his stupor. "You mean the presto-chango-bearo? Yeah pretty freaky."
He walked past Talia and Magna towards the cave, his rapier still drawn. He slowly nodded to Magna in agreement. He slowly stepped into the cave, his sword up and his eyes sharp.
Dregan hobbles up. Nodding to Magna and asks "What 'appened after i' fell? The should be a great big bear 'ere, awer what did I shoot?"
"It became... a man, and then crumbled to dust. He looked at peace - the look of one whose long torment is finally at an end." Naralesh is silent for a while. After a few moments he follows the others toward the cave entrance.
Magna takes the lead.
"Let me go first, just in case. Dregan, keep those arrows nooked."
A prolonged search of the cave and the surrounds of the shrine - for surely that is what this is - turns up nothing of value. The water in the pool, though, is definitely magical...
Magna looks at the water, and if it is clean, tries a sip of it.
The water is fresh, and clean, with the scent of the deep forest about it. Instantly upon drinking, Magna's wounds are healed!
"I think this will be a good place to make a Shrine!"
Dregan looks confused at Naralesh's explanation but nods then follows Magna's instructions. "This feels like a 'oly place, maybe we can use deese old rocks t' make something." Dregan says pointing at the shrine.
Dumping out her wineskin and filling it with the curative pool water, Talia smiles. "Indeed, Asha will be thrilled. This is a fine sight for a fine holy sight to Erastil."
"Maybe Asha can summon some wild animals t' protect i' so dis doesn't 'appen again."
It is late in the evening, the sun already beginning to set over the trees that surround the site.
"Remarkable..." Naralesh murmurs. He walks over to the water, and, casting detect magic, inspects its magical aura to see if he can understand its effects in more detail.
Talia wakes early as she usually does, and stretching, goes to put some tea on the smoldering embers of last night's fire. Stirring the embers with a stick while fanning them with her buckler, a trick she learned from watching Dregan, the playwright sighs contentedly as the embers begin glowing a light, bright orange. Wrapping her traveling cloak tightly around her body and savoring the warmth it brings, Talia's groggy mind thinks of the traveling ahead of them today. I'd rather be at the playhouse, but all things considered, this hasn't been such a bad trip. We did something really good yesterday, whatever it was that we did...
After a quick breakfast of deer jerky and hardtack, Talia mounts up and follows the scout's lead, back to the northwest through the old growth forest.
The pool is just that: a pool of clean water fed by a spring. The healing powers appear to be the simple effects of a Cure Light Wounds.
Magna will ride with the others, deep in thought about the fall from grace of the cleric in the Shrine, and the advantages and perils of dedicating one's life to your gods.
Something a Paladin must have in mind at all times.
Dregan's leg seems much better the following morning and after another drink from the fountain in the morning he seems to moving naturally if a little cautiously.
Dregan leads them in a generally northerly direction over the next two days, although they zigzag plenty to explore more.
Day 1 C2
Day 2 D1
26 Pharast 4707
A spring rain comes up i the morning as you prepare to set out. Light and refreshing, it adds to the cleansed feel of the temple. The day is spent exploring to the north, another forested area, full of beech and elm many years old. A fairly uneventful day, until near nightfall, when Dregan spots something odd.
On the south bank of the river lies a man, dead. His legs have been pinned under several large logs. Oddly enough, it doesn't appear as if he was a victim as much as he fell to his own devices, as the trap seems to be unfinished.
Magna quickly goes to him, to see if there is something she can do.
If he is already dead, she will try to get the body and take it to Oleg's Trading post.
"He deserves a proper burial."
Talia sighs, watching Magna begin to move the logs that have pinned the man down, before joining in and helping to shift them off the corpse. Fell under a log trap of his own making. Don't know what that does to deserve a proper burial.
Still, Talia keeps her mouth shut and does what she can to help remove the logs from man, merely cursing under her breath as one of her fingernails tears on a particularly knotty pine log.
Once the logs are removed, the playwright kneels and goes through the man's clothes, checking for any type of identification - letters, jewelry, a journal, perhaps even a stag's head locket. And if the man's carrying anything of value, all the better - a gift to the group for respectfully disposing of his remains. Pausing for a second to look at the others, Talia shrugs. "He could be the Stag Lord."
Magna can't avoid to chuckle a little at Talia's joke.
With Magna and Talia dealing with the body Dregan will dismount and look for any tracks back to his campsite before they get destroyed.
Then come over to look at the man more closely and what he was building.
"I've got a spade on tha pack 'orse. Once we find a area clear ov tree roots I can dig 'im a grave."
Magna sighs...
"Maybe you are right Dregan, this is a good place for him to rest."
Gavriil hopped off his horse with the others. A smirk crossed his face as Talia gave the dead man a shake-down. Not quite as noble as she likes to think, he thought. Gavriil gave her another look. The others were often easy to anticipate, especially their lovely dwarf companion, but not her. Sometimes she was as noble as a knight and others she was no better than the men he usually worked with. Maybe it was all just an act, he thought with a shiver.
Act or no, he was sure he'd have to keep a closer eye on her. He cracked a grin at her and Magna, "It can't be. He has a face. The bandits said the Stag Lord didn't have a face under his mask."
He nodded to Dregan and said, "I'll give you a hand."
"Look 'ere" Dregan says calling the others over "This weren't an acciden' somethin' bit through dis rope just at tha right momen' t' crush 'im. Most creatures wiv teef what size won't 'ave tha cunnin' t' do dis."
"Except if they are a prank playing fey dragon..."
Magna's jaw is clenched, her eyes show anger.
Talia tries to hold her breath as she gives the corpse the once over, but eventually she has to take a quick breath, and the smell of the corpse overpowers her. The hardtack and jerky she'd had for lunch starts to come up, and retching, Talia stands, hurriedly wiping her hands on her breeches and stepping back, color flushing her face.
Hunching over for a few seconds, the playwright concentrates on a branch on the ground, waiting for the nausea to pass. What kind of idiot traipses around in bandit country with no identification, and then gets felled by his own log trap? Probably from Galt, the jerk.
Standing straight and letting go a big breath, Talia just catches what Dregan says about the rope being chewed through. "You could bury him here, but if he was murdered, maybe we should do as Magna suggested and take him back with us? Someone at Oleg and Svetlana's may know him." But if so, I'm riding upwind of that corpse.
Turning to Magna, Talia shrugs. "Perlivesh... or was the dragon Tyg? They don't seem like murderers. That would be a pretty nasty prank."
"A deadly prank..."
The man carried very little; a few coins (12 sp), some hard tack, and a snuff box with his initials scratched on it. Initials which, coincidentally, match the ones on the traps you found. The dead trapper's masterwork handaxe sits in a tree stump, a few excruciating feet from his outstretched hand...
There is also some evidence that a horse or two was tethered nearby, but are now long gone.
"Well need to make sure any relative he had gets hold of these items."
Gavriil nods alongside Magna, "We could stop by our little fae friends' home to see if they know anything about this."
"Well, it could be the fey, I suppose. Or another woodsman with a grudge against this one. Could be Dregan's not the first person to get his leg caught in one of this guy's traps. Perhaps he was murdered and his horses were stolen? But then why'd the leave the handaxe?"
"Regardless, I agree that his family, if any, should get his belongings."
"Only if the other woodsman had sharp teeth..."
I vote for exploring D1... the fey can wait, the guy is dead already anyway.[/ooc]
"It might well be tha Fae, an' probably wiv good reason. But there is nothin' we can do about 'em even if we wan'ed to. They could disappear an' we would never find 'em. His mark is enuff t' identify 'im, lets bury 'im 'ere an' continue norf an' then back t' tha tradin' post. Bottle ov Scotch out fer more ov 'is traps."
27 Pharast 4707
The land breaks free of the forest here, opening back into the rolling plains common in this part of the Greenbelt. It doesn't take long to explore and survey this area.
"Such a lethal prank seems uncharacteristic for the little ones," chimes the elf. "Still, we should be wary of them in case they were responsible. If they're capable of this, what else might they do to one who angers them?"
Talia smiles as Oleg and Svetlana's post comes into view, the only tall-ish structure for miles on these windswept grasslands. Sure, it isn't much - a few people, from many disparate backgrounds, gathered at a time-beaten former fort. But they're friendly people, most of them anyways, and it is the closest thing to civilization the playwright is bound to see for quite a while. It is, Talia thinks, for all intents and purposes, home. And despite the lack of a theater, and fine dining, reliably warm bathwater, and anything else really, Talia's happy to see it.
Leaving Noleski for a proper feeding, the noble helps the others unpack what little they've found on this trip - the traps and the trappers' possessions. Then, giddy with the news, Talia can't contain herself any more.
"Asha! Still having those dreams? I bet not... we found it! An old temple, in the woods, just about where you thought it would be. Fouled to the core, the temple's pool had brackish, silted water; the trees around the temple were devoid of life."
"An angry bear charged out of the temple, roaring, and Magna met it head on, lance and horse crashing into the beast. Beast, horse, and knight exchanging grevious blows! Naralesh summoned a hawk, which raked the creature, and Gavriil charged the beast, ready to take it on face to face. The bear reared up on its hind legs, five times the size of Gavriil, its paw in the air ready to separate our rake's head from his shoulders!"
Talia pauses at this point, building tension, her hand on Gavriil's shoulder, her other hand outstretched in Dregan's direction.
"That was when Dregan stepped up, cold as Lake Reykal in the dead of winter, ice water running through our scout's veins. He drew back his bow and put an arrow right into the bear's eye! The bear roared in pain and collapsed, and the strangest thing happened - it changed into a man and then into dust."
Sighing, Talia looks around to anyone assembled, her voice wistful, far away sounding.
"And the temple, and the lands around it, they changed too - the grass grew greener, the temple's water purer, and before long, birds had inhabited the trees all around, singing their happy little songs. You'll of course, have to see it yourself."
Quite the talespinner, this one, Naralesh thinks, smiling to himself as he listens. He nods appropriately as Talia tells her tale, as if to corroborate her words.
Magna, as always, go to Kesten Garess and his guards to ask for information and make sure they are ok. She also tells them what they found, and ask them to investigate about the dead trapper.
28 Pharast 4707
It's a warm spring morning when the familiar sight of Oleg's trading post comes into view. Again, a trumpet rings out when you are sighted from the tower. Kesten and Asha, along with Svetlana, meet you at the gates. Horses are taken in and the gear unloaded.
All listen with rapt attention at Talia's tale of the bear and the temple. "I will need to go there for certain," Asha says solemnly, "not two nights ago I had another dream, but this one held whispers of green things growing, and warm hearth-fires burning." She places a hand on Talia's shoulder. "I had thought I may return to Restov, to find my calling." She begins, "But now I see that calling is here. I will make this temple my home. If I could beg another favor, take me there, when next you go, and I will swear to assist you in your efforts here in the Greenbelt and beyond."
Kesten smiles as the tale finishes, and nods at Asha's words. "A good thing no doubt," he says, "for we need all the help we can get. Other tasks have been set for you. I would check the wanted boards as soon may be possible. As for that, the Swordlords have recognized your efforts here, and sent this." He tosses a pouch towards Talia. Inside, the gleam of gold!
Taking the bag of gold from Kesten, Talia gives the guard captain a serious nod, before turning her attention back to Asha. [b]"Of course we'd be happy to take you there. But, if you're planning on staying there... I'd wait until we've dealt with this "Stag Lord." Or perhaps Kesten can request more men from Brevoy to stay there with you. You'll be vulnerable, out there on the wilderness on your own."
Gavriil slipped off his horse and followed the others to meet the inhabitants of the trading post. As Talia spun the tale about them, Gavriil sat down with his legs up, thanking all the gods he could think of for a night in a bed and no more horse ridding. He gave a sly sideways look at Talia over his tankard when she said he was going to lose his head to the beast. Showmanship is all fine and dandy, but I was not about to get swiped by that blundering bear! he thought to himself.
He smiled and nodded along with the others though, just glad that he finally got paid.
"Please let the Swordlords our thanks for these resources, and that we will good use of them for the good of our task and this lands."
Dregan blushes at recounting of the fight with the bear. "Are we in a 'urry t' get back out? It's only I'd like t' go me Mary, I'll can be back tomorrow night."