2 Kuthona 4708
The lake known as Candlemere is notorious in the Stolen Lands for being haunted. Stories from fishermen, explorers, bandits, and tradesmen alike support these legends with eerie tales of strange lights dancing upon the waters, blood-curdling cries from what could be lost souls, and mysterious sightings of shapes rippling in the lake’s dark waters.
You arrive on the shores late in the evening. In the distant center of the lake, the silhouette of a tower can be seen. Strangely, several faint lights can be seen flitting about the base of the tower.
Vosil frowns thoughtfully. "It would seem that despite the fact that Concord itself backs onto a significant body of water, we have not hitherto taken advantage of that fact to conduct any waterborne exploration."
He looks at the wizard. "Naralesh, do perchance your studies of the arcane provide any insight which might expedite our travel to that island?"
|
"No-one said this was going to involve swimming." Edric groaned, vivid memories of his last encounter with water resurfacing. "More practically I should probably get the militia practising on this - if we ever did face invasion then we'd need to be able to defend the lake... Not that that helps us now."
Talia shakes her head. "No, no swimming. It is cold. We'll risk sickness."
"Perhaps we should move on, and have some of our soldiers bring a canoe out for us to use at a later date?"
Vosil nods. "That makes sense. Let us mark this territory as somewhere to return to with proper equipment, and move on, yes?"
"Unfortunately, my bag of magical tricks turns up empty on this one, Vosil. It does give me a few ideas though. Perhaps by the time we return, I'll have researched something that will aid us."
Gavriil looks around at the others and asks, "What? You all don't want to swim across the creepy lake to investigate the creepy haunted island? I'm quite frankly shocked. A year ago Talia would have been halfway across the lake by now contracting hypothermia and Edric would be calling down Desna's holy light to purge the place."
He shrugs and turns to Vosil, "No skin off my back, though. I told you before and I'll tel you again. I don't swim."
3 Kuthona 4708
You follow the river that empties into the Candlemere into the woods of the Narlmarches. The great trees rise up out of the hills here and track away west. The river is identified as the Murque River on your map from Narlthropple.
2 miles west of the lake, you come a swampy opening in the trees where the river slows down. A low, muddy hummock protrudes from the middle of the widening river, surrounded by a palisade of outward-facing, sharpened wooden stakes. Inside, tendrils of smoke rise from a handful of mounds clustered around a single larger mound. A simple wooden gate on the eastern side of the hummock seems to be the only entrance to the fortified island.
"Hmmm." Vosil looks intently at the very obvious signs of habitation. "As I believe the saying has it, there is no smoke without fire; and fire would seem to suggest some sort of civilization. For a given value of the word, of course."
He struggles to recall any rumours of this place. It seems improbable that a settlement could just spring up without someone noticing it.
But then again, these lands are unknown: Terror incognita, as the old joke has it.
Talia grabs Narlthropple's notes and frowning looks them over, not finding any mention of this settlement. "What sort of creatures inhabit mounds, I wonder?"
Gavriil stares at the palisade along with the others. Fortifications out in the wilderness made a lot of sense, with all sorts of banditry and wild beasts lurking near where you live you wanted at least some safety while you slept. The gates did bring forth an uneasiness in him, though. Who would build this close to their kingdom without their knowledge? Surely other settlers would have at least made contact for trade. He looks to the others and nods, "Edric is right. We should approach and find out who they are. It doesn't bode well for us to have sleeping dogs at our doorstep if we don't know if they'll bite us."
He dismounts his horse and adds, mostly for Talia and his own sakes, "With caution of course. I'd rather not return to the belly of the beast any time soon."
"Unusual indeed. Whoever inhabits these mounds is someone we want very much to meet, whether they be friend or foe." Naralesh dismounts as well, renewing the magical protections which he now maintained throughout the day.
Once Naralesh is finished casting, Talia proceeds towards the mounds, her hand on the hilt of her sword. Careful to stay behind Edric, she calls out "Hello!" in seven languages as she walks.
|
|
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Careful to stay in front of Talia, Edric leads the way towards the fortifications, although he leaves all his weapons strapped to his body rather than presenting a warlike front. As Talia shows off just how many languages she can speak he can't help but roll his eyes - grateful that she is behind him and therefore has no way of seeing his amusement.
Talia sighs as Edric begins wading into the water, the Viscountess suddenly aware of just how deep the river could be. "Wait! You may be wearing a metal coffin, Edric. We'll have to parley from here."
Accordingly, and probably to Edric's continued amusement, Talia cups her hands to her mouth and repeats her hellos - at a much higher pitch and volume.
For a short moment, nothing happens. Then two reptilian figures appear along the wall next to the gate. They speak to each other, well out of earshot, then one disappears from sight.
Across the water, Naralesh cannot make out any details. Shading his face with a hand, he remarks "They look... reptilian. I hope they're not upset we're here on their doorstep."
Vosil shrugs at the elf's comment. He, too, can see nothing. "The question is, should we be upset that they are on ours?"
Gavriil walks to the edge of the water with the others, but does not wade in. He eyes the fort from his place, but cannot make out the figures standing on the parapet. He turns to the others and says, "They have to be able to get to it somehow outside of riverboats. Maybe we should look around for an easier approach to our neighbors. And maybe we should invest in a boat."
"Ahah!" Something clicks in Vosil's mind as he briefly glimpses the thing in profile. "Lizardfolk. Now, let me see what I can recall about them..."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Vosil looks up from the book that he has been reading through to refresh his memory. "Well, I have good news and not-so-good news. My sources tend to agree that lizardfolk are civilised; but there's some debate as to exactly how civilised. They tend not to be too picky about where their meat comes from, shall we say. But if we avoid looking too much like potential prey, we may be able to parley with them."
A smile. "Alternatively, we could smear Gav with ketchup and present him as a peace-offering. He is our chief Diplomat, after all; and he already has some valuable experience of being devoured."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Gavriil eyes Vosil out of the corner of this eye with a smirk on his face. He nods to the spymaster and says, "An interesting proposal, but I'm afraid if they ate me they'd probably die of alcohol poisoning. I'd suggest our spymaster to be given up as tribute, but I'm afraid he may be too sour for their palates."
He lets out a mock sigh and says, "Though if I must put my diplomatic skills to the test, I can offer them Nora to tide them over through the talks."
Vosil shakes his head wearily at Edric's admonition. Paladins are useful to have around on occasion, but most of them seem to have had their sense of humour removed with almost surgical precision.
Oh well. Time to change the subject. "I wonder if they're planning to reply to us, or just hoping that we go away. Do we have a next move if they don't respond to Talia's greetings?"
He looks at the palisade and what he can see beyond it. A few flaming arrows might get their attention, but the place looks too soggy to burn.
It is several minutes before anything happens besides one lone lizardfolk guard staring out at you, an a Privy Council deciding whom has the most experiences at being eaten.
Then another guard appears, the same one from before. He croaks out a short sentence, then joins the other in glaring at you.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Vosil nods. "'Tis Draconic, the language of dragonkind; although judging by its accent, it has never actually heard it spoken by one of the Ancient Ones." Nor has Vosil, but that's not going to prevent him indulging in a little editorialising (alas, nothing does).
"It asked us what we want. Which is actually a jolly good question."
| 4 people marked this as a favorite. |
No sense of humour - but we have a gift for irony second to none!
"What we want," Talia says, scanning the lizardfolk dwellings for obvious signs of hostility, "is an accord. They don't eat, rob, or hurt us, and we don't do the same. Though I can't imagine anyone wanting to eat a lizard. Perhaps there's even room for a treaty of mutual defense?"
Gavriil looks to Talia, "Are you sure? I'm sure there's someone with deep pockets and a deeper stomach that might want to try lizard. And in any case it may be wise to let you do the talking this time. I don't speak draconic. I'll just stand here and look dashing with Edric."
Vosil shrugs, laconically. "Worth a try. Are you going to say 'take me to your leader' or do the whole thing from here?"
"It's a good sign that they're willing to talk," remarks Naralesh. He looks to Talia standing beside him, trusting her judgment as ever. He was never able to understand groups of people - whether they were men or elves or even lizardfolk did not matter. But Talia's world was people, and it was a world she navigated with as much expertise as he navigated the world of spellcraft. He never felt as secure as when she took charge of a situation and found a mutual way forward for two groups who otherwise might have crossed blades.
Talia frowns, lost in thought. "Dregan, please conduct a hunt. Bring down the largest beast you can find, a boar or an elk or some such thing. We'll invite their leaders to a feast here by the river's edge. I'm sure the easiest way to a lizard's heart is through his stomach."
The Viscountess looks around, frowning deeper. "And leave your axe. I shall chop down a tree for a cookfire. That's how it is done, correct?"
"And can anyone here cook? Should we send for my chef? It would likely be his most interesting day on the job. I'd hate for Alvert to miss it."
Cupping her hands to her mouth, Talia shouts across the river.
Dregan heads out to hunt while you wait. Edric begins chopping wood while the rest of you...wait? It is ten minutes before the lizardfolk reappears. And he is not alone. This time, not one but four warriors appear on the wall. One calls out:
Talia shrugs. "They want us to feast now. I'll ask them to send a boat."
Gavriil allows the others to start getting ready for the feast. He stands nearby in case the Lizards send out a force while the others are preoccupied. He nods to Talia and says, "Then let's not keep them waiting. We should be on our guard so we don't end up on the menu."
While the activity is going on around him, Vosil spends time in one of his favoured activities: reading. With the help of one of his Pathfinder Chronicles, he endeavours to glean what information he can from his view of the lizardman encampment: roughly how many people it might contain, how many of those are likely to be capable fighters, that sort of thing.
He also tries to work out whether any rumours about this particular village have made their way to him, only to be lost in other notes about other, more urgent things.
When he sees the four warriors, he tries to gauge their mood and disposition. If this is a trap, he'd rather know sooner than later.
Her skin turning pale, paler than usual, Talia watches the King's men, looking for signs of betrayal. Normally breezily unaware, Gav's mention of menus focuses the Viscountess' attention; Talia looks for troop placement, unusual activity, anything else that might give a clue as to the lizards' intents.
They are waiting...for you...to start swimming...
5 Kuthona 4708
The trip back to Concord is uneventful - a nice change from how it usually goes. There is no lack barges, boats, and other river craft available. Although it raises many an eyebrow why you would haul your boat overland when you can just sail to the lizardman camp.
Gavriil enjoys the short trip back to Concord and their brief stay there. When questioned why they aren't just sailing there, Gavriil points out that Edric might rust into his armor being out on the water for so long, deftly dodging his nervousness about being over water that doesn't exactly agree with him. After all, one hundred percent of people who go swimming eventually die!