"My apologies wise shaman, we will of course expidite your request to the best of our abilities. How ever another question lingers upon my nim witted brain. How long, pray tell, has your poor tribe been inflicted with this evil that makes them ill? This may play a part into our recovering Old Sharptooth."
The shaman explains the whereabouts of the mites' lair, a 100ft tree called the Old Sycamore. It can seen for miles around and lies directly north of the kobolds' lair.
"Well hopefully we can fit into what ever space they have stored the statue in. Or maybe we can persuade the mite outside to work for us."
Ardell gets in a fencing stance and squats to see how low to the ground he can get, and waves his sword around as if he were in a fencing bout.
"pary, pary and lunge..."He recites.
"Well, let's get on with it then. The statue isn't going to rescue itself. But you know, I really didn't take to that shaman and I think he's up to something."
"I mean, anyone could say something causes a curse. I could just make them a new special object and say that cures it, but I suppose we need to find the thing."
A new day dawns, again uneventfully. Kressle yawns, "So, yer gonna tkae on the mites. Good on yer; little bastards made off with some of our loot last time."
A new day dawns, again uneventfully. Kressle yawns, "So, yer gonna tkae on the mites. Good on yer; little bastards made off with some of our loot last time."
Ardell fidgets around practicing parrying tactics, stops and adjusts his mustache in the reflect from his saber.
He then impatiently asks, "So, do we know where we are supposed to go to find the mites?"
Pavla's newly honed nature affinity continues as she finds more nourishing berries.
"Packed with vitamins. I'll lend one of you a dagger, but if anyone even thinks about sheathing it in my back, I'll have your eyes out and on the floor before you finish moving."
She turns to Kressle. "You mentioned loot. What did they take? Or rather, what did you originally take?"
Ardell looks at Pavla "I am not even sure what to expect for the statue of Ol' Sharptooth. Being that he Shaman is willing to give us one of his prized gems, they may not count shiny objects as Magical. But one thing is for sure, if you can pin down a theme with the statue you may just have something there."
Pavla shrugs. "Use your sense. You like being on the winning side. Dead is not a winning side. Oleg is a lot less likely to kill you on sight if you come bearing gifts, even if they're the gifts you stole in the first place."
As the party head towards the Old Sycamore, evidence of skirmishes becomes manifest. Mite and kobold corpses stripped bare of gear lie where they have fallen.
The group arrive at the huge tree, its leafless branches stretching for what must be a 100 ft diameter. There is seemingly no evidence of a lair here.
As Ardell creeps around, Pavla spots a hidden entrance in the form of a root lined shaft that drops 10 feet down. It looks like you should be able to Climb down using these roots.
It's so trivial to do this you don't need to make any checks.
Kressle calls out, "So, we get a dagger or what?" as she and the bandits are left up top.
The raven looks down the hole, caws and then alights on a branch, as if making a statement of intent that does not include going down holes in the ground.
The readiness of everyone for a fight is noted, but climbing is kind of difficult with one's hands full of weapons.
"I've got two. You can have the other one if you like, but after that as far as I'm concerned you're down to pot pourri and a marmoset skull and I doubt you can use either of those to defend yourselves. So shut up and talk nicely to someone else."
EDIT
"I'd like you to come with us anyway. You have to help identify the stolen goods."