"I'm afraid there's not much tarro root around these parts," the barkeep says. She looks under her bar, then stands back up. "I like a little myself in stews and such, but I have to have my orders sent up from Bard's Gate about once a month."
The man starts drinking the strong brew, listening to you and the party talk.
Glornug looks at Corian. "I concur with Shi'Vatha. If there is time, or if it would not inconvenience you, I would like to hunt these manticores. If it is not possible, or would cause you trouble, then I will stay with you, as that was the agreement."
"I have no problem with that, Glornug. I just ask that, if you leave the town to hunt, to be back here within two days. OK?"
Glornug smiles and nods at Corian. "This will be good. A chance to hunt. A chance to help people. And doing both without disrupting our purpose." He listens intently to the drunkard.
I will ensure Glornug is back in two days.
Shi'Vatha sighs and nods. "I was afraid of that. If your next order is soon, I'd like to add to it if I might. Say, 10 gold worth?" He fills in the time waiting for the man to finish and sober up by asking the bartender about which type of Tarro root she gets, the green or the white, what she puts it in, has she ever tried the leaves instead, and did she know it's not actually a root but a stem, despite the name.
Echane sits nearby, listening and thinking. Manticore and missing people... this was a strange game the gods had decided to play.
I will ensure Glornug is back in two days.
"Well done, then. Although I suspect you may be with the gentleman for a few hours before you get enough information to make any use of."
Shi'Vatha sighs and nods. "I was afraid of that. If your next order is soon, I'd like to add to it if I might. Say, 10 gold worth?" He fills in the time waiting for the man to finish and sober up by asking the bartender about which type of Tarro root she gets, the green or the white, what she puts it in, has she ever tried the leaves instead, and did she know it's not actually a root but a stem, despite the name.
"Ten gold! Well that's very generous. With that, I can just about triple my order of the stem." The barkeep looks you over, as if take the measure of you. Not (apparently) afraid of your unusual stature, she says, "The name's Patricia, by the way, though you can call me Pat if you like." She then goes on to explain that only the green root can be found this far north, the white costs almost a gold for a half-pound of the stuff (she gets the regular green for about the same price for nearly two pounds of roots). She has never used the leaves, only the root, and it 'enhances the flavor' of many of her recipes, which part of the reason why people from as far away as Bard's Gate and Reme come to eat at her tavern.
Shi'Vatha nods affably, and digs out a platinum and gives it to the woman. "The white isn't as strong as the green anyway. The leaves give a similar flavor, but it's more mellow. Not so good for chewing, but good for flavoring food, or making paste. I am Shi'Vatha." He turns back to the drunkard. "Are you feeling better now? Your thoughts less addled with drink? If so, you can tell us what you know of these Mandy Cores and where we can find them."
Glornug catches the drunk man's eye. "Take your time, and think. What you tell us will help us to find and hunt these manticores, keeping them from hurting anyone else. That is important work, and it rests in part on you. You are needed."
The man, now more or less sober, looks at the lot of you and starts to tell his tale. "It's like Pat said, to an extent. There are either one or two manticores that apparently live in this area. They're somewhere up in the foothills to the northeast. Maybe 20 miles past here. Maybe a day's walk from here, or a couple of hours on horses." He looks at you to make sure you're understanding what his is saying. He then goes on.
"It happened about 6 months ago. I was preparing the harvest with my son helping as much as any 8 year old can. My wife was closer to the house, picking beans for the supper. This giant beast seemed to have come out of nowhere. It dropped down, grabbed my son in one claw, missed me, but grabbed my wife on the second pass. By then I had my bow out. I fired at it once, but...suffice it to say that I missed. It was out of range after that, although I do remember chasing after it. It eventually dropped my son, who fell to his death before I could catch him." The man starts tearing up at this point, and takes several minutes. Between sobs, he says, "The damned thing flew back to his lair, probably to dine on my wife. I've been almost useless every since."
Shi'Vatha will begin asking the man questions. "What time of day was it? What were the shapes of the mountains behind it as it flew off? What are the landmarks around your house? Are there streams or rivers coming down out of the mountains near where this happened?" And so forth, until the poor man has been wrung completely dry of information. Then Shi'Vatha turns to the group. "I will scout ahead and attempt to locate the lair, we cannot take these cores on in the open, with them being able to fly. We will need to find their lair and dispose of them there. I can be there long before the rest of you, and begin to search. I suggest we use the man's house as a base of operations, assuming he is ok with that." He raises a shaggy eyebrow at the man in question.
You get enough information of out him (and with the help of Pat to give you a rough idea of location), you gather that there are a group of foothills about 20 miles north by northeast . These hills are known to the locals, but the terrain makes it difficult to hunt there. It is likely that the nest would be facing north, towards the Stoneheart Mountains, to better camouflage their home from wayward strangers. At your top speed, you could get there mid to late afternoon, but only if you went by yourself. If the rest of the party joins you, you can be in that general area around sundown.
Roll me a Know (local), if you can. Otherwise, just default to Int. DC=12 (17 for a specific piece of info)
"Pardon me. Is there a shop nearby where I could find some arrows?" Glornug smiles and asks Pat. "I would like special arrows, if they are available, but if not, plain arrows will work just as well."
The barkeep looks at you and see the low number of arrows sticking out of your quiver. "Yea, we actually have a couple of fletchers in town that can make arrows for you. One is sort of our unofficial guy for making arrows for the town guard and our hunting parties. The other one works for more 'discerning' clientele. He's not cheap, but he can make a fine cut of wood if that is what you're after."
"Thank you. I will seek them out before we leave to hunt the manticores."
Glornug addresses the others. "Unless anyone wants to join me, I will go seek some arrows, and then come back here as soon as I can so we can leave to meet Shi'Vatha."
Having said so, he heads out the door in search of the fletchers Pat mentioned.
Shi'Vatha nods at everyone, steps out, and sets off at his best overland speed. Not a run, but his best long term speed movement. Once he get's to the man's farm, he'll slow down and move stealthier, heading into the mountains. He will leave a note on the man's door, with just his pawprint on it, to let everyone else know he was here.
"Should Shi'Vatha be going alone?" Echane asks the others.
Selene shrugs. "He's a big... eidolon... I'm sure he'll stay alive at least long enough for us to catch up."
Felicity shakes her head: No, should something happen both of our tracers are moving independent of the group. It is unlikely we will be able to locate or assist them should they encounter misfortune.
"Thank you. I will seek them out before we leave to hunt the manticores."
Glornug addresses the others. "Unless anyone wants to join me, I will go seek some arrows, and then come back here as soon as I can so we can leave to meet Shi'Vatha."
Having said so, he heads out the door in search of the fletchers Pat mentioned.
@Shi'Vatha: I rolled for random encounters already and there are none to be found between here and the foothills. It's your lucky day.
Having completed the transaction with the fletcher, Glornug returns to the tavern, humming happily to himself. Upon entering, he walks over to his companions.
"I apologize for the delay. I am ready to depart at any time."
As you trek out through the countryside to meet your compatriot, you can see the beauty and openness of the terrain. Trees and forests have been pushed back throughout the area, allowing farmers and cattlemen to roam and graze. To the far north, you can see wisps of the Stoneheart mountains, which is impressive as, on foot, it would take you a week to reach the base of the nearest part of the range from here. As the last of the sun drops below the horizon, you find yourselves approaching the foothills that the man at the bar mentioned.
The way I read it, 'we' would all meet up with you in the foothills. You haven't found anything yet, and you're secretly starting to wonder if this guy was pulling your leg.
Then Shi'Vatha turns to the group. "I will scout ahead and attempt to locate the lair, we cannot take these cores on in the open, with them being able to fly. We will need to find their lair and dispose of them there. I can be there long before the rest of you, and begin to search. " He raises a shaggy eyebrow at the man in question.
@Everyone: You are looking for Shi'Vatha at the man's house. His house is near the foothills.
Glornug takes point . Keeping an arrow nocked, he scans the ground for signs of Shi'Vatha's passing or anything unusual as they head in the direction of the farmhouse.
Felicity will follow, keep a fair distance between herself and Glornug.