"Y...yes, please... what is it you need our help with?" Tassira speaks up, feeling somewhat ashamed that Rowena is shouldering most of the diplomatic efforts.
I should be helping her more... I should be stepping up more, too.
Alexander remained silent watching the new comers. Trusting the two woman to speak for the group.
Rowena listened without interruption, taking in the words and gauging the intent/honesty of the two before them.
[dice=Know. Religion re "Old Sharptooth"]1d20+7[/dice]
"Who is this Tartuk? What is he? Does he have supporters with him? I mean other than those he sways with fear to do his bidding."
Alexander feels compelled to speak up after hearing about this Tartuk. We had heard that Kobold's had been raiding and causing trouble in human lands and where planing on looking into it. Is this Tartuk's doing as well?
"Mikmek, I am a priestess and I have never heard of a god by the name of Sharptooth. I believe this Tartuk has made up a story to persuade others to war using a false god."
It seems we are in a position to help each other then. We had interest in investigating but where uncertain of the villages location and now we have a lead on the cause as well. Would your people be hostile to us if we showed up Mikmek?
Tassira quietly listens to the conversation before speaking up once more.
"Where is your village? We should journey there as soon as we can."
Alexander pulls out the map that is still a work in progress and attempts to transfer the information as accurately as possible. We are charged with exploring these lands, are you well familiar with them Mikmek?
Tassira looks over Alex's shoulder as he marks the locations down on their map.
"Perhaps we could stop at the radish patch before we make contact with your tribe, Mikmek? I think it'd be a good idea to bring a peace offering in order to make it easier for us to negotiate with your chief."
And locate the moon radishes Svetlana had asked them to gather as they were Oleg's favourite ... Rowena thought to herself, a polite smile gracing her lips.
Turning to the kobold, she asked gently, "Do you believe Tartuk will turn your chief against us when we make contact with your tribe?"
Tassira starts walking in the direction of the radish patch mentioned on the map. "Well? Come on guys--let's go!"
"Svetlana did mention she required moonradishes." Although the priestess appeared uncertain for Rowena did not like the sound of Tartuk and his false god. They had recently lost Sheoll and she did not want to see harm befall the rest of them.
Looking to Tassira and the unusually silent Alexander, she gave a slow nod and added, "Aye, we all go."
With the detail offered by Mikmek and Crackjaw Alexander was absorbed in making the map the group had been working on to make it as clean and accurate as possible but once the task was done his mood seemed to turn sour and left him in a brooding kind of silence. Alexander's silence finally lifted once arriving at the Moon radish patch. Mikmek do your people tend these radishes or do they grow wild? I ask because there seems to be some interest in these plants but where they are seems some distance from an area anyone could honestly lay claim to except maybe the bandits. Attempting to cultivating some of these plants nearer to your tribe would seem worth the effort considering the benefits.
A handsome enough fellow in traveler's garb (Save for a fanciful wide brimmed hat) with a mix of human and elven features appears to be moving with light enough steps along his way...
but just which way he is going seems a bit uncertain, even to him.
"Now, is that south, or is that south? I mean, which way is down when you're walking on the map instead of just looking at it." He speaks to himself
When he sees Mikmek and Crackjaw, the half elf feels even more confused, "Terribly sorry, is this the group with the charter for the Stolen lands exploration and bandit removal?"
A willowy, grey-eyed brunette with hair tied back in a back-length ponytail stops and looks at the new arrival, wandering lost in the Stolen Lands. A breeze rustles her green vest. "Er... yes, sir. Why do you ask?"
The half elf gives a quick bow, "Nedyr Shadowhawk Orlovsky , at your service. Quite literally, actually, as I've come to aid in the endeavors. I got a bit lost on the way here, fortunately Oleg and his lovely wife gave me rough directions on where you might be heading."
He glances at the Mikmek and Crackjaw, "They weren't in the description, hence my surprise. Though I hope my staring wasn't rude."
A man wearing a green cloak, riding a white horse comes towards you. he waves and calls out as he slowly moves over to you. " Are you... Er.. Are you lot the so called charter holders? My name is Markov." Markov looks at the two small creatures before shaking his head. Markov then leans over to pat his horse on the side before straightening up again. "And this be Snow. We were directed here by Mrs Leveton." Markov then looks at the half elf standing with them. "Hey, you were at the outpost too. I didn't think you would come out here without help. If you waited the night, I could have helped you get out here." As he gestures around to the surrounding forest.
"I should have," Nedyr admits sheepishly, "I appear to have little head for direction. I hope I mentioned my name the other night to you, but in case I didn't, it's Nedyr."
"That you did Nedyr. Not everyone knows how to get around in the wilderness." Markov looks back at the two small creatures and tries to figure out what they might be.
Markov then dismounts and walks over to the group. He pulls back his cloak, removes his helm and carries it in the crook of his arm, and then smiles at the group. "So, since it looks like we're here to help, might as well get right to it if there isn't any problems."
First came the Half-Elven stranger on foot and then at Crackjaw's news of a rider, Rowena turned her head toward the sound. She spied the man and horse and studied him.
When the two of them were present before them, Rowena offered her own cordial welcome,
"Well met, sirs. I am Rowena Hunter, a priestess of Erastil." The petite, young woman bowed her head, her thick, black braid falling down to her back. Her head lifted up and her clear-green eyes moved from one man to the other. The silver holy symbol of an antlered bow sat openly upon her chest -- and the wooden clasp with the same design held her cloak in place.
"We travel through these woods on our way to the moonradish patch and then onto meet a kobold leader who is experiencing some difficulty. Mikmek, there, is leading the way. You are welcome to come along."
After a moment, she added quietly, "So, Mistress Svetlana sent you to us? A kindly woman, indeed. We have lost two of our companions over the short time since we arrived in the Stolen Lands - one just recently. Your arrival and aid are well timed, sirs." Her mind strayed to Sheoll, whom she considered a friend, and who had passed too soon, and she shook away the gnawing sadness, placing a light smile upon her face instead as she looked back at the newcomers. Rowena wondered how trustworthy they were -- surely the Levetons would not have sent them forth if they were unscrupulous. Rowena gave an inward sigh -- so much was changing -- and now the party had agreed to take on a tribe of unknown kobolds.
"My condolences for the loss of your friends, good lady," Nedyr says, his normal ready smile dimming a bit at news of the deaths.
"I only know of kobolds what I've heard in stories," He confesses "but I suppose in these lands, one needs all the friends one can get."
Tassira bows to the newcomers. "I am Tassira. Tassira Vantyev." She adds, straightening herself up.
"Remind me to thank Svetlana for sending you to us."
"Indeed." Markov lowers his head slightly before looking forward once again. He turns to Nedyr when he mentions Kobolds, and realization crosses his face. "Oh! Kobolds...... Ah, sorry, I have heard of them before, also in story, and I know their language too!" He then speaks in a different language.
Markov raises an eyebrow at Nedyr, understanding his surprise.
"So, We're helping kobolds? May I ask for the reason?" As he has a questioning look on his face.
The Half-Elf's words of consolation were met with a small bow of her head and shining eyes. "You are kind, Nedyr. Thank you." Her words were soft/gentle. When she noted Markov's lowered head, she added, "Thank you, Markov."
The young priestess moved slightly so she could be nearer Tassira. It seemed a pattern she had come to know -- even being close to Alexander or Tassira in the absence of Sheoll.
She smiled as the noble sorceress introduced herself and then attempted to give some explanation.
"I have not met any other kobold, other than Mikmek here, before this day. I suppose we shall find out what the kobolds are made of once we enter their tribe. There is one named Tartuk who appears to be stirring trouble in the name of some fictitious god, old Sharptooth. Crackjaw, the mite, tells us that this Tartuk demands the kobolds war with the mites and has led several raids of his village. We must investigate, lest Tartuk continue and do the same to any other settlement."
Alexander lets die a comment to Mikmek of the strength of farmers as the two new comers approach. Well met gentleman. I am Alexander of house Medvyed Alexander is a clean shaven young man his shoulder length black hair is tied back in a pony tail. His sea blue eyes stand out against the healthy golden complexion of someone who regularly spends time in the sun. He is dressed in the practical garments of a soldier and sports various pouches and other containers along with various weapons. Alexander allows the conversation between the group to continue more or less with out contributing as he takes the measure of the new comers.
Until Alexander moves to stand near Rowena offering support to her as he also addresses Markov. Considering the changes in Mimkmek tribe has been significant enough to have drawn our patron the Swordlord's concern we should take the Kobolds troubles seriously. The path that offers a resolution to this conflict with the least potential for blood shed that I see involves working with Mimkmek and Crackjaw.
The Orvalsky smiles at something Tassira says I wonder how that would sound if I tried it... 'Oh, there's Svetlana, don't forget to thank her for sending you my company'. It's like an invitation to vanity...and I'm egocentric enough
Alexander lets die a comment to Mikmek of the strength of farmers as the two new comers approach. Well met gentleman. I am Alexander of house Medvyed Alexander is a clean shaven young man his shoulder length black hair is tied back in a pony tail. His sea blue eyes stand out against the healthy golden complexion of someone who regularly spends time in the sun. He is dressed in the practical garments of a soldier and sports various pouches and other containers along with various weapons. Alexander allows the conversation between the group to continue more or less with out contributing as he takes the measure of the new comers.
He nods in return, "House Medvyed has interests here too? mmm, any of you Surtova?"
Assuming they say no, he looks relieved."Well, that should make communication easier," He says impressed with Markov's grasp of the language.
When the priestess mentioned this Tartuk's apparent duplicity...
"A con game playing on religious insecurities? That's a dangerous game," The half elf muses aloud, "Play it too hard, and the mark can decide if he's damned, he got nothing to lose anyway. Play it to soft and someone calls your bluff or at least grows apathetic. You need a proper mix of carrot and stick to really have folks alternate between driven by greed for the perks you supposedly offer, or driven by fear by the consequences. Any good scam has folks convinced they've more to lose by challenging it than they stand to gain by doing same."
A beat
"Or so I hear."
Rowena noticed Alex's movement toward her and silently accepted the meaning of his presence -- the immediate support he was offering.
"None are from House Surtova." Even though I am a foundling and do not know my true parentage.
As the Half-Elf, Nedyr, spoke of the guile of Tartuk, she simply nodded and after he was done speaking she simply added, "Then we must convince the Sootscale tribe not to fear Tartuk and his god. If we break his hold on their fears, then he will have no power over them. The Chief of the tribe would see him gone. It will require cunning on our part for Tartuk has wielded this fear for over a year now."
Tassira gives Rowena a reassuring look. "Indeed, sirs. None of us are of Surtovan blood--two of us serve House Medvyed in different capacities. Alex is part of their family, and my family serves as one their bannermen."
Rowena noticed the look given to her by Tass and smiled warmly at her friend.
To Nedyr and Markov, she repeated what they were told earlier,
"We have been advised by Mikmek and Crackjaw that we must gain favour with the Chief of the Sootscale tribe. I suppose that is a good place to start."
"None are from House Surtova." Even though I am a foundling and do not know my true parentage.
Tassira gives Rowena a reassuring look. "Indeed, sirs. None of us are of Surtovan blood--two of us serve House Medvyed in different capacities. Alex is part of their family, and my family serves as one their bannermen."
"Good to hear. While I shouldn't paint with too broad a brush, I'd just as soon avoid Surtovan intrigues. My own position in the Orvalsky family is minor. I'm a bastard by birth, but try not to be one in temperament. Fortunately, father made me feel part of the family, and his wife is surprisingly easy about it, given my birth was before their marriage, so I'm making myself useful to the clan by coming down for a look at all this green."
MIkmek points his scaly thumb to his chest....
"I am Mikmek, kobold ranger."He then points to the even stranger creature
"This is Crackjaw my friend, he is a druid."
Nedyr points to himself in a similiar fashion, "I am Nedyr, half human, half elf, and having gotten lost at least once, I'm delighted to meet a ranger and druid so there's less chance of it happening again. I hope my own talents come in handy in helping your peoples."
[QUOTE}
As the Half-Elf, Nedyr, spoke of the guile of Tartuk, she simply nodded and after he was done speaking she simply added, "Then we must convince the Sootscale tribe not to fear Tartuk and his god. If we break his hold on their fears, then he will have no power over them. The Chief of the tribe would see him gone. It will require cunning on our part for Tartuk has wielded this fear for over a year now."
"Sounds like a good start. I'm eager to meet this chief. The more details we learn, the more we might find an opening to help these poor folks"
"Heh, I guess I am slightly out of place. Only somewhat. With all "Noble Born" in the forest. Anyway, I agree, lets go see this chief and this Tartuk. I am curious to see the color of their scales. Markov grins and commands his horse to come to him. "So, does any one of you also have a horse? I know you don't have one Nedyr. You came out here on foot!
Nedyr gives a sheepish sort of shrug/nod at that but smiles.