The thin man steps from cover into the light. He snaps an arrow. The sound brings Sunny out of her enthrallment, and Varian from his semi-lucid state.
The thin man points to his closed mouth, and shakes his head... then motions for you to follow. His pet also shows itself - scrambling out of a reedy patch at the edge of a wide muddy pool to follow. It appears to be a skunk the size of a young bear.
He leads you along a path of ground more firm than the weed-covered squishy marshes around you.
You reach a high clearing after a few minutes. In the center is a pole driven into the ground topped with several unlit torches. Several skeleton's worth of bone lies in piles around - smashed to bits.
At the edge of the clearing, a man who appears human - writes feverishly on his lap... sitting propped against a tree. He stands with a start upon seeing you. The stack of parchments and the book serving as his hard writing surface both fall to the dirt. "No no no nono... " He drops down gathering his scattered papers.
The thin man looks to you, nods, then gestures toward the man.
Corum follows after smiling in a friendly manner.
"I am called Corum. We are not here to hurt you."
"Well that a relief... " He continues to gather the papers, and brushes the dirt from them.
"I expect the day will come when I hear.. my name is Philip and I am here to hurt you... not today though you say."
The thin man shakes head, and squats to feed his giant skunk from his satchel.
The man lets out an exasperated sigh, but seems satisfied enough with work recompiled. He looks you over - awarding you his full attention.
"My name is Lendaro... chaplain of the Black Arrow... if any still live. This is... well we call him Ben. He can't speak... or write... seems to understand us though. Just don't ever ask him anything complicated or his answer..." (he makes finger quotes) "will leave you standing dazed and drooling on yourself."
Ben's head bobs in a silent chuckle.
"The lowland towers have been taken by forces with command over the dead. I had hoped to travel to Fort Birch for assistance, but Ben will not go."
After you tell Lendaro that Fort Birch has fallen...
He lowers his head. "Well... I suppose nothing here changes your intentions then. Don't worry about us... we are an uncommonly durable pair."
"I would suggest you throw away the advice to enter through the scrapyard... if Schulfjarn is in turmoil, cross the river... go to West Schulfjarn. Not the slums."
"Feel free to stay here for the night if you wish... We have plenty of food. Ben will light a torch at sunset, and fight those that come. I have scribed more than enough scrolls to consecrate the earth around us... withers these "bone-seeds" to nothing, but Ben enjoys displacing his anger upon them."
Ben nods and punches his own palm.
Sunny steps towards Ben and offers a hand for being shaken. (^_^)
Once so 'formally' introduced she begins getting ready to 'bed down' for the night. (^_^)
"Thank you for your advice... Ben, if it comes to it, I'd be honored to fight at your side." That said, and with a nod to Sunny, Varian spreads his bedroll and prepares for the night ahead.
Sunny frowns. "I think they's expectin' us ta' be sleepin' in'a trees." She indicates Varian, pointing as she continues to set about making a sort of 'hammock' for her own evening's rest.
Varian looks from his bedroll to the trees with a little frown. "In the trees? I'm not much of a climber." He bundles up his bedroll, attaches it to his pack and sighs. Then he ties a rope to his backpack, then with some difficulty, climbs a sturdy looking tree with a large crook in it that looks like it might be comfortable to bed down in. Once he gets there, he pulls his pack up into the tree with him.
"I hope this is high enough up." He looks down and tries to not show his discomfort with the height. He curls up in the crook of the tree. "I feel like a fool, up here. Just praying I don't fall out of bed during the night," he says, with a bit of a laugh.
Sunny climbs Varain's tree and helps him get settled in.
Before scampering through the branches and making herself all comfy for the night. (^_^)
"You make it look so easy, Sunny. You are quite the athlete. Thank you."
Sunny laughs and waves from her tree,
"T'is nuffin' to it, rilly." She continues to get herself comfortable. "But then, I bin noticin' all'a differences a'tween kin, like m'slef, an' peopls. Back home learnin' ta' climb tha' trees is somat every one learns ta' do. Like swimmin'. Ye ken?" She asks.
"In my family, such pursuits were deemed unnecessary and frowned upon. Everything was about money and profits. Yours sounds like it must have been a blessed childhood filled with fun and adventure like climbing and swimming."
Sunny tilts her head, looking puzzled slightly as she thinks about Varian's words.
"Well... see, that's where I dun't know. T'is why I come ta' look at tha' world, ye ken? Ta' see how t'is other folks live." Then she blinks,
"Rilly? Ye weren't never off, playin' with ye friends an' such?" She sighs, "T'is so much different ta' learn a'tween tha' peoples an'a kin."
"Not really much. Oh I played... with my brothers and sisters... in the warehouses, and counting rooms... on the grounds of the compound. I was never free to do what -I- wanted to do until i was a teen, and could get away from our nannies and guards for short periods. It was a very sheltered life. I suppose it had its benefits, but I hated it. My folks never did see the good in my activities until I endeavored to enter the priesthood of Abadar. But I wasn't destined to be a priest, it wasn't in my nature. It wasn't long before I took to the road as just an intinerant follower."
He sighs.. shrugs... looks to Sunny with a smile.
"Tell me, what was it like to grow up among your folk? How did you come to be a traveler... and come into the skills you have?"
Sunny smiles, taking out some of the tools in her kit and absently working away at some of the wood she's taken from the tree around herself.
"Ah...well.... M'kin, they's all livin' on'a islands waaay, way off ta' tha', um, South, south west. Out where tha' little specks of land trail away in't tha' greater ocean. My home? From th'a tallest trees on'a tallest peak? Ye can see, way off ta' tha' North, tha' great storm whut never ends. Though, truth be told, t'is more just like some rilly distant thing. More visible at night with tha' faint flicker of tha' lightnin'." She pauses, thinking,
"I s'pose we's tha' closet of tha' kin livin' near tha' peoples. We sure get they's boats washed in't cove every now an' then from when a storm season happens. That's where tha' great storm, it...um..spits out little-r storms. Though they can be right nasty things, even so. Some lastin' fer days at a time." She smiles,
"It were tha' stories I bin heard from such people's whut made me wan'a see tha' world. So... m'slef an' some friends? We fixed a net ta' tha' bottom of one'a them ships while they was fixin' 'em selfs back up after bein' blowe'd in't home." Sunny grins at her and her friends ingenuity.
"Then? We just stayed with tha' ship as it sailed about. Eventually, I left 'em when I come across a river whut took me fancy an' moved up that. Slippin' in't towns here an' there along tha' way." Sunny giggles,
"Seems folks? They can't see no difference a'tween m'self an' tha' kin whut come from far a ways to tha' East. Off in some great forest some wheres. Kionin t'is it's nam in'a speakin' of tha' kin. Folks see me an' be thinkin' I be more a kin t'a them kin, than bein' kin ta'..." Sunny's voice trails off as she realizes her words aren't working. She frowns.
"Any-who. M'kin is much like every one else. We mingle. We get, y'know, friendly. Little one's be raised. We live in huts whut are made from tha' trees an' plants native ta' tha islands. We trade with tha' people's of tha' sea an'a peoples whut come washed ashore fer things like shiny an' such. Y'know? Metal bits an' pieces? She shakes her head again.
"T'is one of tha' things whut picked me interest. Ta' see where all'a metals come from." Sunny smiles, "T"is all'a ways interestin' ta' see tha' importance people put on tha' different things. Back home? Them little white bits of shell fish? We just find 'em an' put 'em aside. Ye can't eat 'em. Can't use 'em fer nothin', but other folks? They be offerin' us all sorts a things fer 'em? Strange, in-it? Somat we just find, other folks be wantin'... seemin' 'cause they can't be findin' 'em..." She shrugs.
"Funny old world, in-it?" She pauses, seeing if her ramblings are helping shed light on Varian's question. Meanwhile another little wooden dagger is finished and slipped back into the belts and such wrapped about the svelte Elf's frame.
Varian lofts a brow in some degree of surprise. "So you are a different sort of elf than Corum? I wasn't aware there WERE different kinds... Fascinating! I've heard of this storm you speak of. The Eye of Aben-something or other. It affects trade, so it was marked on the maps I studied as a child. Abendego! That was it." He seems pleased with himself that he recalls the name, then remembers what they were speaking of.
"Funny you speak of metals... I love metal myself. When I used to sneak away from my elders, I would go visit the local weaponsmith and learn about metals and weapons and the forge. I loved it. But you are speaking more of metals and their use as coins. It is what my family business was all about after all... money or what you call shineys. Making money, accounting for money, accumulating money... the all-important gold piece. It has it's place in the world, no doubt."
He glances over at Sunny and smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Your bits of shell that you trade for other things are much like the money of the inner sea. They can't be eaten, or used for anything else, but they are valued and people covet them for sure."
"It is, as you say, a funny old world. The little wooden daggers are cute... what are they good for?" he asks, noting her completed woodworking project.
"Corum, care to share your story with us?"
"..... The little wooden daggers are cute... what are they good for?" he asks, noting her completed woodworking project.
In simple reply Sunny throws one of the blades at Varain,
"Stabbin' things, mostly. But ye can throw 'em an' they stick in things." Is her matter of fact/simple answer, even as she sets about simply fashioning another one...or two....
"As fer different from Corum? Well... iz at like sayin' ye self an' some one from...oh, say that place where they has all'a sand? Quad-somat? Or Cat-pesh? Is they rilly, rilly different peoples from ye self?" She asks in reply in regards to herself and Corum and Varaian's question.
Varian collects the wooden dagger from the tree near him and examines it, turning it over and over in his hands. "Nice workmanship... I don't know a lot about wood, so I'm surprised to find it is hard and strong enough to pierce things. I guess if you are open to it, you can learn something new every day, eh?"
He gently tosses the dagger back to Sunny, with the intent of having it catch in the tree near her.
"Qadiri and Katapesh... those places are far to the south of where I was born and raised, and the folk there are mostly human too, but they are very different from Varisian folk. I met some desert people when a trade delegation arrived in Magnimar. I found them to be very different from us in their manners and speech. Still, we are all human I suppose. I guess elves are much like humans then in that respect - you can come from wildly different places and still, you are both elves."
Sunny nods to Varain's comments, though she does look to see if Corum needs any help with setting up for the night. (^_^)
Ben sits with his eyes closed against a tree while the others set up their bunks for the night. You catch him smile a couple times - apparently enjoying the chatter in his half-sleep.
Lendaro spends some time with Corum - after Lendaro learns he knows most about what has transpired.
Ben wakes at sunset, and gives Lendaro a hand getting into his hammock tent.
Ben lights a torch from the campfire - which he then extinguishes, then lights the torches at the center of the clearing. He squats on the edge of the clearing ... watching the ground. The giant skunk - still sleepy, curls up at his side.
Lendaro speaks softly to you from a nearby branch. "It is possible that no more will come from this site... we may have cleared it so to speak. Nevertheless, Ben will watch."
No skeletons come that night. When morning comes, Ben and Lendaro break camp and head west.
Lendaro does not ask if this is goodbye. "Ben and I will continue to clear the marsh and lowlands... This is somewhat in the direction you were heading anyway... so I suppose it'll do as good as any."
After twenty minutes of travel, you reach a thicket - bushes mostly choked brown by thick ivy. You hear a splashing sound beyond. Ben beckons with a gesture but puts a finger to his lips for you to quiet.
Gruff primitive voices follow the few seconds of splashing... none of this is yet visible past the thicket.
"No no no... don't you dare kill it. I be its master!"
"Ungh.. ungh... can I just knock it out?"
From within the thicket, you see a slimy stagnant pool ahead. You see two figures thigh-deep in water. Your view is partially obscured as you look through the wild mesh of the tangled dry brush under the ivy covering.... but they appear to be orcs. One in a simple burlap robe and hair braided into bone-white beads.
The other - more burly, has a giant insect locked in a bear hug with his upper body arched back to keep his head out of the filthy water.
The robed orc starts to reply but stops...
He then says slowly an eerie melody to his words... "Heard something crick crack through the bristle...." He scans the edge of the pool ... taking in every inch.
"Sorry, that was my fault," Varian whispers to the silently-moving Sunny.
If they are looking right at us and seem to see us, he turns to the orcs and smiles ingratiatingly. "Didn't mean to disturb you, just passing through and heard voices. We are a little lost, if you could perhaps help us find our way?"
If they are looking about as if trying to pinpoint the source of the sound, and failing, he remains silent and waits for their watchfulness to pass.
Varian is able to keep from speaking the words ready at his lips. The robed orc's gaze passes over you. He then notices the burly orc is holding the giant beetle underwater.
"I said no... come!" He yanks on the burly orc to let the beetle out of the water, then gestures toward a spot on the west side of the pool.
The two begin to move toward a pile of random gear and supplies sit at the base of a pointed boulder. The slimy algae coating the water's surface trails behind them like threadbare molding skirts.
You see tiny blue figures strung from the standing stone like festival lights. A couple squirm with high-pitched gagged grunts, the rest hang despondently.
Sunny creeps forwards, along/besides Varian.
"Um... hello...?" She hesitantly says.
Suny peers at the.. blue things...
Just in case you need it:
Corum attempts to identify the newcomers.
Corum is able to determine the small blue creatures strung to the boulder are mites... a malicious fey race which nests underground.
Ben gestures - Lendaro whispers "We'll make our way around the north side of the thicket and pool."
The orcs wading toward the "camp" stop and turn. The burly orc nearly loses his grip on the beetle.
The bonebead braided orc in the burlap robes continues... backpedaling slowly while his long gnarled knob-knuckled fingers inch into his pouch.
"Someone sweet-voice speaks... my teeth tingle... sweet voice, tender flesh..."
Varian starts working his way to the north per Lendaro's words once the orcs become less watchful and wary. If instead, the orcs approach to engage, he'll try some diplomacy, ensuring the orcs of his friendly intents.
Sunny just nods and smiles politely as she follows Varian and Corum...
Corum informs the group about the mites and follows but leaves the talking to Varian.
Their gazes are fixed on your positions as you begin to move. Varian speaks before an attack comes...
"Didn't mean to disturb you, just passing through and heard voices. We are a little lost, if you could perhaps help us find our way?"
The orc with beaded braids and a scummy and soaked burlap robe speaks... "MmmMmm... Lost says you... but now are found by Flodfaskess. Where? ... Flodfaskess knows, but what are you? Not orc, not half-breed... words and flesh too smooth for dead man of the Horth. One, the other, or both.. kill and be killed. Flodfaskess cares nothing for what gobbles you up. Foul mood as I. No gold, no meat, no iron paid for tending the bone planter flock.. bone planter herders already spiraled my guts to maggoty meat." He jerks his head toward the blue mites strung to the boulder.
"Mmm ... foul mood as I, Flodfaskess may yet murder for grins. "
Sunny tilts her head as the fellow speaks, "Okeys... maybe this one's not all ta-gether in'a head...." She says quietly to herself, even as the combat commences.
"Surely there's no need for murder or even hostilities. Perhaps you might be interested in a bit of trade or a gift even, for our free passage without a fight." He shakes his meager pouch of coins to entice the creature's avarice a bit.
(plus any circumstance bonus for the offer?)
"A gift? So much you have, so easy with it to part? Thinking make deals to deal with fear?" The burlap-robed orc moves toward you in the water, the burly one continues to hold the beetle underwater - his wild vile-grinned glances toward you as he is finishing up suggest he is eager to get into a good fight.
The robed orc pulls his long knobby fingers from his pouch and holds it threateningly... as threatening as one can wield a pinch of powder.
"Soft and fleshy... full of fright... kill hand tingles with delight."
"Deals are tricks from smart-mouth liars, lets see if this gift saves you from... fire!"
"One.... two...."
Varian holds out the pouch, squeezes a couple of coins to the top to show there is gold there, then lets them fall back in, clinking with other coins there...
"Surely some gold is worth safe passage... save your magic and let us pass.. it looks like you already have your hands full with captives anyway... we'd just be a burden to you."
Sunny is happy to let Varian try his speaking approach. She too smiles and is her usual, cheerful self towards this new pair of folks. (^_^)
Corum hisses to his companions.
"Removing these sadistic creatures would be a favor to the world. I would rather not pander to such as these."
Corum grasps his rod and readies his magic.
Try as he might, he has a grim look about him. His smile is quite thin and ominous.
"But how does gold make it from pouch to my pocket? You come to me... I come to you... He shakes his head "... maaybe you toss it?"
He scratches his chin, and looks back toward the boulder on the bank.
"Throw ten gold at yonder rock. I'll stay my hand... won't torch your flock."
The burly orc lifts the beetle from the water after he tears a piece of its carapace free - enough to cram his tusked mouth in for a bite. A couple of the mites strung to the boulder screech and wail as the beetle's legs droop... and the green, orange, and clear goop runs down the sides of the orc's mouth. He tosses it aside, and makes his way to the bank - ready to collect any gold thrown that way.
Varian turns to the others and whispers, "I'm a few coins short of ten... anyone want to contribute a few, or do we fight our way out of this?" It's at this point he sees Corum, who appears ready to fight and lofts a brow in curious questioning of his intent...
Sunny gives a nod of approval to Corum... a 'I'm sorry'.' look to Varian before simply diving forwards,
With a yell of "Torpedo in de vaterz!"
And disappearing beneath the surface of the pond with a slight splash.
Varian sighs and shrugs... whispers softly to himself, "Well, I tried." He looks over at the orc gives him an almost apologetic look as he creates a lucerne hammer as a swift action and imbues it with lead blades.
The burly orc throws up his arms and flexes... He hollers some type of orcish battlecry, then draws his falcata-like blade. "BRAWR! Its ON!!"
The braided orc in burlap robes hisses dramatically at his upturned fingertips - holding his spell components like an unhinged chef passionate about his spices. "Powdered gland of cappy-bara... crutts soaked in blood of thrush. Broiling rage boom-bleets through my blood-strings...
Flame... set fire to brush!"
As he finishes, fire comes from the brush... Corum releases his prepared spell.
"Fire YOU get!"