|
Corwyn admires the longbow, but the swashbuckler doesn't care for using such a weapon and leaves it for one of the others to take. The same with the rest of his possessions, though he swirls the gourd full of milky fluid. "What is this? Milk? Some kind of liquor?" When Yanda identifies it as a healing draught, Corwyn nods and glances around at Talondreal, having witnessed the paladin take a dreadful wound a few minutes ago. "Perhaps you should carry this, then?"
As he stands up and dusts off his pants in an oddly fussy manner, Corwyn cocks his head as he stares at the ground a few feet in front of him. "Huh. Hey, what do you all make of this?" It was only sheer chance that the normally unobservant swashbuckler even noticed the prints that lead away from the cave, but he points them out to the others. "Looks like a child walked out of there... and didn't go back in? If it was the vampire we heard about, he's awfully small. But hey, maybe he turned into a bat or something. That would explain why the tracks don't lead back. Right?"
|
|
Corwyn turns to Thornberry, his eyes wide. "Wow, you think? Wouldn't that be something?" He doesn't seem to get Yanda's sarcastic barb and nods. "Sure, could be!" To Ardain's question the swashbuckler shrugs uneasily. "If it IS a child, they might be a prisoner or something. Might be some clues in the cave. I've got a sunrod in my backpack for light." He offers helpfully.
Pictographs on the walls of this shallow cave (which appears to be unoccupied) show an indistinct winged creature navigating through a sea of swirling patterns and black dots. A clumsily constructed altar sits at the center of the cave. Dozens of small niches are carved into the wall, most filled with an odd assortment of items; teeth (which Thornberry recognizes as a combination of human and gnoll teeth), scraps of clothing, a jar of white liquid (which Yanda quickly identifies simply as rancid cashew milk), a masterwork quarterstaff, several pieces of parchment, a cloth spell component pouch, a leather satchel containing an oil of silence and four comparatively fancy-looking bullets of the type made for black powder weapons, and several identical wooden dolls of exceptionally high quality.
The footprints you were following originate just below an empty niche.
|
"The staff is adorned with symbols of Nethys"
"There's some traces of green blood on the altar.. someone tried to clean it up, but they didn't get it all. Some kind of ritual sacrifice maybe?"
"I think this altar is dedicated to the god Azathoth, a god of the outer planes, lord of chaos and creation."
|
|
Corwyn wanders around the cave, stopping to admire the beautifully crafted quarterstaff for a moment, then moves on to inspect the wooden dolls.
"If this is a vampire's cave it's sorta... dull. And what's with these dolls? Nicely made, I admit. But who collects dolls? The kid, maybe?"
Listening to Jack speak, Corwyn takes a look at the various bits of evidence pointed out by the wayang. "Huh. Hey, did that crazy-looking creature out there have green blood? Definitely a weird place, anyway. Not sure I really want to meet this kid, if this is his home."
|
"Dolls may be magic or something, let's see..." The wizard quickly casts detect magic and begins to scan the room, not just the dolls.
Ardain notes the blood as well. "No magic residue in the green blood. For what it's worth." Then he hones in on on the musket balls. These are magic. These three are seeking bullets, this on is a tracer. Outlines the target in fire, so it's easier to hit." Ardain shrugs. "Worth a lot to a gunslinger."
|
|
Yanda leaves her cart behind when the cave surface gets uneven (if it gets uneven), and watches as the others do their thing.
"Well, most of this stuff is plain trash or wierd. What would you expect from outer planes stuff, I guess. Never understood some peoples obsession with... I wonder if that creature was tainted by the dark tapestry! I mean, we just assumed it had to do with the mana waste effects, but dark tapestry causes similar bizarre results you know. Could someone be trying to merge the two in some scientific experiment? Now that does sound intriguing."
|
|
Corwyn glances at the ammunition pointed out by Ardain. He's never really used guns himself, but he's seen them used by the pirates he used to sail with. He even had more than a few of those weapons pointed at himself - not a good memory. He shudders, then looks at Yanda. "What is this 'dark tapestry', you mention? Never heard of it. Not that I've dealt much with magic, but I do like a good mystery."
Ardain doesn't find any more magic than has already been discovered.
Talondreal perceives a dim lingering aura of profane energy throughout the cave.
|
|
"Oh!" Corwyn nods at Yanda's explanation. A pause, and then. "How do you mess with the stuff between us and the stars? Isn't it... really far away?" His tone is inquisitive but distracted as he looks over the various odds and ends in the cave.
In response to Kristoff, the swashbuckler finally shrugs. "Well, that creature out there must have lived here, right? Unless those footprints belongs to one of those dolls that got up and walked out then flew off somehow I don't see how we solve this little mystery. If the bullets are worth something, we should take those and this oil... Yanda mentioned it's magical so it's probably valuable as well. And maybe the staff? Looks nicely made, it might fetch some coin as well."
[ooc]@ DM: Do the dolls feet match the child sized tracks?
|
Thornberry collects the dolls and...pokes them.
He detects magic on them two or three more times just to confirm that they are mundane.
I Just KNOW these dolls have to have been alive at some point. Maybe they were tools of the Wastes themselves? Or maybe....PURE. MAGIC. This little cache taken in total felt like someone's collection.
Like someone was operating here in secret. With the dolls? That didn't make any sense. Why not come themselves? Intriguing! A Genuine Mystery!
The tattooes making the gnomes skin darken and then animate as he tosses all of the possibilities around in his head.
The little gnome does collect the scrolls, planning to prepare the proper spell to read them tomorrow.
Having fully plumbed the strange little cave of its wealth and secrets, you resume your trek to the mysterious town of Mercy.
The town of Mercy rests a mile south of the banks of the Ustradi River. You arrive an hour before sunset, passing through fields of cashew trees. A wooden palisade encircles a collection of its approximately one hundred wooden buildings. Hardy trees laden with red and yellow fruit dot the surrounding landscape. The road leads to a wide gate, which bears a prominent sign with orange-painted letters.
The sign reads, “Mercy does not allow dishonesty, firearms, or large weapons within town limits. Respect the curfew.”
As you approach, a formidably-built human, whose imposing frame and stern expression seem a bit at odds with his daisy-shaped straw hat and garish bright orange clothing, catches sight of you and opens the gate. He addresses you with a neutral but polite tone:
“Welcome to Mercy. I’m Sheriff Molume, and I keep the peace around here. As you can see from the sign, we don’t allow people to walk around with large weapons around here. Before I let you inside, I need to ask you to hand them over.”
"Journey sticks are fine," He clarifies after a moment's consideration. "Slings and darts are not."
Jack reluctantly hands over his crossbow... "I'd be obliged if you keep it safe until we depart." He keeps his dagger.
"You have my word," The sheriff says courteously as he takes it.
Well let’s see we were just attacked by a disfigured creature and a mangy hyena upon our arrival, it almost killed one of my companions, and we haven’t heard from our acquaintance Amenira in months, let me think about it... Kristoff says in a smart aleck tone.
"Take your time, I've got all day," He replies in a similar tone. He glances toward the horizon. "After all, there's not much left of it."
He then does a double-take. "You know Amenira? Funny, I don't think she ever mentioned you." His expression shifts from stern to quizzical.
"She lives in the orange house on the west side of town. She’s been hanging around Mercy for about a year now. Every month, she goes into Alkenstar to send letters to her family. She’s not a proper one of us, but she’s nice enough, and follows the rules, so we don’t mind her sticking around. She makes good toys for the children - or at least, she used to. She’s been in Alkenstar a mighty long time. I would’ve thought she’d be back by now. Maybe she decided to go back to city life, but it’s awfully rude of her not to at least stop by and say goodbye first.”
The sheriff looks at Talondreal, arms folded. "I recommend you not do anything that would cause anybody here to feel the need to defend themselves from YOU. We're good folk here. We have nothing to prove. The same cannot be said of you." He cracks the tiniest of smirks. "Your companion mentioned an encounter with the Waste mutants...how are we to know you aren't mutants in disguise? Show some good faith."
|
|
Corwyn considers the mystery of the dolls and the tracks as they travel, and at one point he speculates aloud. "Could it be one of those... what did the venture-captain call them? Mana storms? They're magical, aren't they? Maybe the doll somehow came to life, and then got swept up by the storm? That could explain how the footprints just ended." It's obvious that the swashbuckler is imaginative if nothing else.
When they arrive at Mercy, he sighs theatrically and unbuckles the rapier and hands it over, along with the chakram. "Uh... you'll want to be really careful with this, sheriff. It's tricky to handle. Here, see? Sharp edge everywhere but here, where you grip it. Will give you a nasty cut if you aren't careful." Corwyn keeps the dagger sheathed openly at his side though, unless the sheriff objects to its presence.
When he mentions Amenira, the swashbuckler asks. "How long ago did she leave? If we ran into trouble on the road, maybe she did too. We just came from that direction ourselves obviously, and we never saw her."
Corwyn considers the mystery of the dolls and the tracks as they travel, and at one point he speculates aloud. "Could it be one of those... what did the venture-captain call them? Mana storms? They're magical, aren't they? Maybe the doll somehow came to life, and then got swept up by the storm? That could explain how the footprints just ended." It's obvious that the swashbuckler is imaginative if nothing else.
When he mentions Amenira, the swashbuckler asks. "How long ago did she leave? If we ran into trouble on the road, maybe she did too. We just came from that direction ourselves obviously, and we never saw her."
The sheriff looks at Corwyn suspiciously. "Why do you want to know?"
|
Kristoff awaits the response from the sheriff, wondering why he’s acting so strange when it comes to Amenira’s whereabouts.
If the team finds nothing strange with the reply, Kristoff will hand over his gear on 1 stipulation.
Here is my bow and my sword, but if we have to leave in order to accomplish our tasks, can we retrieve them back from you?
|
|
Corwyn looks faintly startled. "Hey, it was you who said she went missing and you hoped she was OK! We came to your little town to find her and give her some assistance with her research. Now we find out she's missing? I think we need to focus on Amenira here, and if she's in trouble, how we can help."
1d20+7 diplomacy
We are concerend for her safety. he remarks
"Now that's more like it. No long stories or logic puzzles, just a show of heart. Alright. She's been gone for two months. Almost to the day, come to think of it."
He does politely hand over his ornate sickle its mostly just for show anyway
"I'll make sure it doesn't get scratched."
Here is my bow and my sword, but if we have to leave in order to accomplish our tasks, can we retrieve them back from you?
The sheriff gives Kristoff a confused, slightly annoyed look. "When you leave? Of course. We don't want them."
Everyone else's weapons collected, he looks back at Talondreal. "That's quite a sword. Is it coming with me, or going with you back where you came from?"