"The society? Well, Zarta sure knew that this guy was Aspis. Whether the Decimvirate knew or she was taking a walk alone, I got no idea," Cassian says, "And if you mean the Chels, well, the Aspis has been paying the right people in this town for long enough." He puts up a finger for another ale, downs it and stumbles out.
"Its Thuvia, by the way, Tendras.
----
Little remains of the town of Anglemire. Nature is reclaiming the few sturdy stone buildings still visible from the coastline. At the north end of the city, where the Eismont foothills meet with the rocky steps of the Menador Mountains, is a short square tower surrounded by the crumbling walls of Emberhold. Thick curtains of lush, green ivy reach upward from an ocean of waving grass and cling to the cracked stone walls—all that remain of the keeps.
A fire long ago removed the roof and floors of Emberhold’s great hall. Five thick columns still stand amidst a dense gourd patch at the bottom of the large pit that remains. The main doorway on the south side is flanked by two stone staircases that wrap around the interior of the west and east walls, much of which have crumbled to the ground. To the northwest is a square tower that’s only partially standing. Weeds have overgrown a doorway on the east wall, which breaks on the northeast corner for a wide set of stairs descending from the ground level. A rusty iron gate still stands at the center of the pit’s northern wall, rising from the densest portion of the gourd patch and fencing off a descending set of stairs
Inside the the crumbled courtyard, there are hundreds of small gourds growing, vital and strong.
What do you do?
|
"Looks like there is not much left of this place." "The garden is neat though. Someone is making the best of the sheltered are to grow good stuff." "Are we supposed to meet a team here?" "I thought we are supposed to help with come of the stuff they already found." Lybram will walk approach slowly with the group looking for any signs of human activity.
Lybram can hear some wheezing wailing coming from the gates on the far side of the ruin, but there doesn't seem to be any sign of human activity.
|
Darius patrols the perimeter on horseback...
...and, assuming everything looks clear, dismounts from Ariaan.
"I don't think a crumbling ruin is going to be good for your ankles," Darius says to Ariaan while brushing his snout, "Stay here and enjoy some oats instead."
Darius empties the contents of one of Ariaan's feedbags against the southeast wall before leaving the horse to his lunch .
He then arms his Longsword and Shield and proceeds inside.
|
Entorra listens to what the old man has to say. She wonders how deep this goes, but is more than happy to have her gear back. She runs her finger along the edge of her curveblade, satisfied that the blade is still sharp.
She straps all her gear, back to where she likes it and is used to it. She looks at the gourds, wondering if they would make good stew.
When Lybram hears the wheezing, she grabs her blade, and readies it in the event the sound turns violent.
|
|
Lybram hearing the wheezing points and mouths, "Noise." Once the group recognizes his intent, he readies his bow with an arrow nocked in place but no draw with his right hand free and moves closer to the breathing.
He thinks, "Someone needs help. Maybe an accident or attack."
He scans the ground for signs of a fight. He is careful not to disturb the garden. If he needs light he pulls a stone from the ground and casts his light orison on it.
Hopefully others have his back."A rescue. Hang on I am coming" he barely whispers.
Despite their best efforts, both Lybram and Iladora do squish a couple of gourds as they advance. The second they do, a few of the gourds begin to shake and wobble. There's an odd chittering, that seems to be in language.
Whatever is being said, the high-pitched voices seem to be frightened.
|
|
Darius freezes midstep.
"Do you speak Taldane? The language of men?
Few of us are able to communicate in your tongue."
"This ruin is... Occupied. They ask for us to lower our weapons."
Which Darius does, sheathing his Longsword against his side.
Some of the gourds start moving, and they reveal three little plant people that walks on legs like tangled vines and each have a gourd carved with eyes and a mouth for a head.
Darius knows that these are gourd leshies, nature spirits that inhabit bodies grown for them usually by powerful druids, fey or other plant creatures. Gourd leshies are superstitious and unusually credulous. In addition to this, they can entangle their opponents with a slam or at a distance by shooting magic seeds.
|
|
"But we are not Thrunes. We are Pathfinders. We explore hidden places for knowledge, and allies. If this hidden place is your home, perhaps we have found both?"
If it looks like the garden could use it, Darius will cast Create Water to show he is "nice".
Harvest Stripe (the yellow one) points at the shoes of Iladora.
The Leshies seem to be still on edge and need to be talked down before they're willing to discuss any sounds.
Harvest Stripe looks at the other leshies, and they confer a bit in Sylvan.
The blue leshy digs at the foundation of the pillars and produces some items. There's a doll with a tiara and a silver locket with a portrait of a young man with a crooked nose. There's a pearl. There's also a book, entitled "On the Application of Magic in War."
Only the pearl detects as magic, though the book is filled with arcane writings.
The leshies scowl as Lybram steps on several squashes towards his way to the gate. Baclieve is able to wrest the rusted gate off its hinges and open the way down.
Six round pillars and a large iron gate built into a low archway on the west wall are not the most compelling features of this musty cellar. Drawings rendered from soot and dark brown paint cover the walls. They’re broken up by narrow fissures of dark earth and crumbled plaster. The room is filled with bones, most of which are heaped around a large throne against the south wall.
Sitting in the throne, there is a figure in black plate mail. It is unmoving.
|
|
Lybram after making it through the garden, hustles down into the basement with the group. "Light the way, father protector." He whispers and his bow lights up glowing.
He looks over the bones and the smears on the walls.
"Bones, bones and more bones...
"That is blood bases markings. Bones are not all human, some are large somethings with bite marks and more recent."
|
So dark in here. Why can't I see? Must be supernatural darkness. "Can--" Iladora stops mid-sentence as Lybram mutters a light cantrip that easily brightens up the room. Curse these human eyes!
"He's right," she says when given the chance to look around the grisly scene. "That's not paint, it's blood. And whatever left these bones here has a taste for big prey."
|
|
Lybram takes the nearest corner to put his back to it and readies his bow to support with arrows should there be a problem. "I am not keen for the predator to come back and attempt to eat again." "Whenever you are ready to move on, I am."
Lybram waits patiently but seems to look puzzled. Finally he says, "I thought we were supposed to meet a dig team excavating the site already." "Why have we seen no one?"
Darius steps forward and gingerly taps on the chest of the figure in black plate mail. At this, the head, heavy with a crown of dull iron, falls off into the figure's lap. Darius realizes that the body is just bones, with vines tying them together to pose the skeleton in the throne. Unlike the other bones, there are no bite marks on these bones.
Just as Darius sees these, he hears a moaning wheeze.
The noise is coming from the darkened hallway on the side.
Can Go
Enotrra
Kent
Lybram
On Deck
Darius
After that
Iladora
Baclieve