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Simon nods and thanks Bolgrith. “I might use this right away, if you don’t mind. My father should know about this Gartok warlord.”
He holds up the feather and it suddenly multiplies into a small explosion of black feathers. The brief confusion produces an adult raven standing in Simon’s hand and a blank strip of parchment and a cord at its feet.
It squawks and flaps as Simon moves the bird to his shoulder, and he quickly jots a note. He rolls and ties the parchment to raven’s foot and says to it, “Take this to the Steward of the Commonwealth, Jeremiah Wyldote, in the castle of Siloguard.”
The raven wastes no time, and is soon a shrinking black speck on the mountainous southern horizon. Simon turns to Bolgrith, “Speaking of Gartok, you mentioned something about Stabi being here?”
Simon is careful not to get in the way of Bolgrith’s inspection, but he studies the rings, the obsidian, and the fanged necklace in turn. Afterwards, he looks over the weapons. He holds up the gold and jade rings. “These two will fetch a pretty penny for sure, three hundred gold bits and three hundred seventy-five, respectively. This copper ring is worth a fair sum too, some one hundred fifty bits by my reckoning. I don’t know the animal this necklace of teeth came from, so that might change the price, but ivory of this weight might sell for eight hundred gold bits for all. But these,” Simon motions to the five chunks of obsidian, “These could be worth a lot, perhaps five hundred gold bits each.”
He surveys everything from the satchel. “Not too bad, if you ask me. Much better than lugging that fortune of armor from the other day, and that’s if there isn’t any magic on these things.”
The lordling looks to Bolgrith and Aladdin for input.
“Smart move, Bolgrith.” Simon commends, as he approaches the body of the giant. He angles his head in curiosity as he uncovers a furry satchel, and he begins to pull out many odds and ends.
Found in the giant's satchel: a rotting hand adorned with three rings: a gold ring with a polished moonstone, a jade ring with a chunk of onyx, and an copper ring with a single polished lapis lazuli. The satchel also contains five fist sized chunks of obsidian, a leather necklace of eight large fangs, a cold iron masterwork shortsword, a mithral dagger, a raven feather, a single small antler, two squirrel tails, spoiled meat, and a large crudely drawn map on a tanned skin, bearing a few marks in the Giant tongue (Linguistics DC 10 to decipher).
Post what you guys take. Appraise checks will tell you worth of items. Anything unclaimed I will assume you are leaving.
Simon ducks behind another rock with his longbow in his hand.
Stealth 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20 Kn: Local 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10
"A hill giant!" he whispers.
There you have it, gentlemen. The giant you spotted wandering the hills is a Hill Giant.
Simon blinks. "I meant no offense, Rolg. The hobgoblins have always been fair traders with the folk of the Commonwealth. I've even heard a few express annoyance toward their wild kinsfolk in these northern lands, begrudging the raids on the borders of my father's land. Except for Stabi, every goblin I've seen did not stall in making mischief." Simon shrugs. "I only thought it was a matter of time. I hope you are right, and he is still helping us."
Simon does not seem bothered by the missing goblin. “Good riddance, I say. He might’ve helped us avoid some more trouble, but I didn’t trust him. Let’s keep going.”
He shoulders his pack, adjusts his quiver of arrows, and grabs his bow. He turns a ponderous gaze to the volcano looming ahead.
“Karajhin’s letter said something about ‘Wolftooth Cave’, where we would find this key. I couldn’t find its location in my research, other than the letter mentioning it was close to Mount Fireblood.” A small grin appears on his young face. “Keep an eye out for anything wolf-toothy.”
Simon waits for everyone else to be ready to go.
Simon addresses everyone else, “It sounds like we will be heading in the same direction as Balion for now. Let’s hope he comes to his senses soon, and finds us. If anyone could pick up our trail in the wild, it would be him. Let’s maintain our first objective.”
The noble casts another worried look northward, and his last sentence sounded forced. Without another word, he starts to walk toward the distant smoky peak.
Simon listens to Rolg as he stares at the northern horizon. He turns to Stabi.
“Stabi, au fost un fel de echitatie dvs. nord pentru a satisface Gartok? La Mt. Focsânge?”
Simon also thanks the dwarf, and then picks up his bow, and adds Balion’s mace to his belt. “He’ll be wanting this back. Shall we follow?”
What do you guys want to do? Hurry to catch up? Follow at your own pace?
“BALI- dammit…” the lordling’s shout to the ranger fades into grumbling.
Simon hurriedly upends his pack until he finds a scrap of paper, and he hastily scribbles something, and rolls up the paper around an arrow. After a moment’s concentration, he looses it high overhead.
1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 5 - 2 = 16
The shot soars and lands about ten feet ahead of Balion. The ranger finds a note wrapped around the shaft, in nearly illegibly scrawled handwriting.
Simon frowns at Rolg and doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. At Rolg’s words to the goblin, he seems to relax a bit. A distant scream from the north catches his attention. Perhaps one hundred feet away, the rest of the party can see Balion giving chase to the goblins on foot.
"What...?"
I'll get to the goblin later. Workworkwork.
“Whoa! Stop! What are you doing?!” the lordling rushes to Rolg, Jamie, and Bolgrith’s interrogation.
“I won’t stand for this! Jamie! Let him go!”
Balion’s mace whiffs the air. Simon arcs his scimitar at a fleeing goblin.
Attack 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13 for 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8, miss
Simon suddenly springs gracefully away from the sorcerer, and delivers a slice to a mounted goblin.
Attack 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14 for 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 Simon now flanks with Balion and clear of Aladdin’s PLAN.
However the swing was off-balance, and the lordling misses.
Simon arcs his blade at the dazed goblin between himself and Aladdin.
Attack 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 5 + 2 = 17 for 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
He brings away the scimitar, the edge dark with blood.
Simon drops his bow and the magical scimitar rings as he pulls it from the sheath. He slices at one of the goblins within reach.
Attack 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 for 1d5 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Simon courageously calls out to the group. “Stand fast! Remember the pirates at sea, we’ve weathered worse before!”
Activates Shake It Off teamwork feat. Everyone take a +4 to saving throws for the next 3 rounds.
You guys are up.
The lordling takes aim and shoots an arrow.
Attack 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 5 - 2 = 20 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3, aimed at a goblin dog.
The arrow falls indiscernibly into the scrambling mass of dog and goblin, but a yelp signals a hit. No creature is fallen as they bound onward.
Simon lets fly another arrow. Attack 1d20 + 5 - 6 ⇒ (9) + 5 - 6 = 8 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 The shot sails too far.
You guys get 1 round of action.
Simon steps behind Rolg as he takes aim, and looses. Attack 1d20 + 5 - 8 ⇒ (7) + 5 - 8 = 4 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7, at a goblin dog. The arrow falls short.
Rolg detects traces of pollen from the occasional thistle or wildflower that sprouts amid the overgrown grass of the hills, a reminder of spring’s caress over the island despite the dismal forest. Here, he listens to more chirps and skitters of small wildlife than those of the wood behind the hill. Simon rustles through his pack as he seems to reviewing a map.
Simon looks up after a moment. “Balion, correct me if I am wrong, but should we just cross the hills now? We can see Mount Fireblood from here, so we don’t have to worry about getting lost. One thing that Balion pointed out, we’ll need to watch out for any roving bands of goblins. When we get closer to the volcano, we can start looking for the Wolftooth Cave.”
He stuffs his map back into his pocket. “Well, let’s go.”
“Should we follow them? See what they’re up to?” Simon whispers.
Simon listens to the dwarf, and then looks up at the trees. “It would definitely be safe up there, but I don’t see any branches lower than twenty-five or thirty feet. If anyone falls, it won’t be pretty,” he shrugs, “Should we go check out the hills? We might find a safe spot out there.”
He pulls a torch from his pack and begins to light it.
Something to be aware of: Bolgrith is now the only one with darkvision.
“If no one wants this…” Simon stoops and picks up the scimitar. He rolls a swift arc with his wrist, and the blade gives a low whistle.
“Still sharp,” he nods, sheathing and adding it to his belt, “We should keep moving before those slower zombies find us. Rolg, would you rather we head back to Stonebit to find a healer, or continue north for this key?”
If someone in town can cast it, a Remove Blindness spell will cost 300 gold bits (150gp).
Simon’s eyes widen at Balion’s dwarven remark and he throws up his hands. “Whoa, everybody calm down! Balion, how’s this: after we find this key for Kharajhin, we go back to these wretched woods to hunt the witch. Agreeable, yes?”
The lordling glances nervously between the mercenary and woodsman.
Simon bites back an angry retort, and then studies the ranger, choosing his words. He cracks a light-hearted grin and his posture eases.
“That’s probably the most I’ve ever heard you say, Balion. It is clear to me that you feel strongly about destroying this witch. I cannot deny the points made; if the Stonebit house learns that I took part in making their border safe, perhaps that will be the start of some reconciliation.
“And I will readily admit to my foolishness of taking orders and coin from a mysterious character, but now, my interest is piqued. I want to find out who is operating under this false ‘Kharajhin’, who is giving these unusual orders. This Hamonreld term you use, ‘pipe dream’, I am not familiar with, but I can guess that you mean this quest to be a lost cause.”
His tone grows steadily more serious. “Remember, it was Kharajhin who knew of you four across the Far Sea, living in a land I thought to be only in stories. He was the one that I represented in that dirty dockside inn over a month ago. The gold you’ve received from that point on did not come from my coffers –do you remember the hidden chest at the Lord’s Landing in Hagglesport? That was not my doing. Likewise, I expect to be receiving more gold when we uncover this ‘Key of Honfogalas’. It is my hope that the key will serve as a clue to unveil who we are actually dealing with. I can understand if you think this is a waste of your time –these are not your lands, nor your concern. Being as I was not the one who singled you out half a world away, I cannot rightfully demand that you continue on this quest. The fact they knew about your homeland, and you specifically, is baffling enough. I must find out what this is about.”
Simon stares at Balion for a moment, before taking a deep breath. His stance relaxes once more, and addresses the others with a tired voice.
“If this is how everyone feels, I will not force you to accompany me. Heh, in the least, if I find the key by myself, more gold for me.”
An unconvincing smile is forced over Simon’s face.
Simon nods absently, scratching his chin. “I don’t know. I agree with putting a stop to evil, but I am not a great knight like that man was,” he nods to the burning pyre, “Whatever killed him and his men, and necromanced their bodies is still out there.”
“Not to mention, we are this far north for a different purpose, to find that mysterious key. I doubt it will go anywhere if we took a detour, but the Barrowood is enormous. Ridding it of all the undead will take a long time.”
The lordling looks to Aladdin and Rolg, shifting his weight indecisively.
Bolgrith, Balion: roll Knowledge Religion.
Simon busies himself, rifling through a pile of the chain shirts, his lips muttering calculations. He announces to the others, “Selling all this chainmail in town will fetch us a pretty penny, but there’s too much here for us to carry comfortably. Hmm…”
Simon sheathes his sword and walks up to Rolg. He quietly waves his hand in front of the hobgoblin’s face, and his shoulders slump. He gives a hopeful look to Bolgrith. “Is there anything you can do for him?”
Simon’s face looks wrought with worry. “Jamie! Rolg! Get Aladdin out of there!”
The lordling rushes to the dwarf’s side, stabbing at the zombie.
Attack 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 5 + 1 = 25, 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 = 7 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
The blade drives into the undead mouth, and the wretched creature falls.
Simon seems taken aback by the mighty blow, but quickly turns to aid Bolgrith.
“Rolg, I’m on your left!” he slaps one of the hobgoblin’s outstretched hands as he plants his feet and swings a sword at the blinding zombie.
Attack 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 5 + 1 = 22 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
In one clean stroke, he lops off its head.
Attack 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 1 = 10 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Simon turns his attack to Balion's assailant, but the monster ducks away from the dangerous strike. He steps forward, and calls to the ranger, "Move to flank him!"
Balion: Not sure if gmail is still giving you trouble, but if you take a five-foot step, you will flank with Simon and gain a +2 to your attack bonus. The flanking bonus does not apply to damage.
Simon slashes his sword across the foulness before him, spilling milky brown pus on the ground between them.
Attack 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 5 + 1 = 26 confirm: 1d20 + 5 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 5 + 1 = 7 (damn) for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Reposition 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Dropping his longbow, Simon grabs Rolg by the collar and pulls him out of combat. He grimly draws his sword and stands in Rolg’s place.
The blinded condition doesn’t give any penalties to CMD, which seems like a mistake. What sounds fair? Subtract DEX and STR from CMD? Subtract DEX only? Autosuccess?
Simon steps up between Rolg, Bolgrith, and Balion, drawing his bow. He states in a cavalier tone, “Those fat ones carry disease, but nothing we couldn’t handle before.”
Uses Shake It Off teamwork feat (get it? Cavalier?). Everyone gains +4 to all saving throws for the next 3 rounds.
Simon nods. “Sounds good. We can go a bit further into the wood, and keep an eye out in case they have watchers or patrols. Our true goal lies at the end of the Frostooth Mountains, near Mount Fireblood, the highest peak on Ytramond. There we will look for this cave called ‘Wolftooth’.”
Simon straightens, suddenly on alert. He points to the smoke. “That might be some kind of settlement, and no known humans live beyond the Stonebit city, save that hermit Sorah. Do you want to check it out, or give it a wide berth?”
Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Simon shrugs. “Yes, I have. I don’t think it is very likely; my father, who is head of the Wyldote House, does not have any serious political rivals. Of course, the Stonebit family might have some differences, but nothing bad enough to warrant betrayal. All of the houses were united when our ancestors landed here centuries ago, and claimed a spot to live by right of conquest. The goblin kind are now content to trade with us, and the three dwarf kings have long been allies of the Commonwealth and the Wyldotes.”
The young noble gestures vaguely. “But my father spares me the details. He is instructing Josephine, my oldest sibling, the responsibilities of the Steward, for when he passes. She is just like him. My older twin brothers serve in other fields. Montague was knighted two years ago, and is climbing ranks very quickly. My father thinks he will surpass Sir Moss, in time. My other brother, Sherwin, organizes the Commonwealth fleet –war and trade vessels alike. I’m not sure where my father will assign me, but I know he is meticulous in his influence of the Sunderlands.”
Simon’s gaze wanders for a moment, lost in thought. He quickly smirks.
“Heh, so in short, Balion, the possibility is doubtful,” says Simon, smiling, “But an astute observation nonetheless.”
Knowledge: Nobility might give you more details on any of the above mentioned characters/governments.
“Agreed! Rolg, get up! Before they see us!” Simon rasps between coughs. He quickly gathers his things and runs to catch up.
The lordling nods as he takes the rope and plunges into the water.
Swim 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Swim 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
Grapple 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 I’m assuming Rolg won’t resist this grapple? Not sure how to rule that, but the roll beats the base 10...
Swim 1d20 + 1 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 1 - 2 = 8
Simon disappears below the river surface, and the rope follows him. After a few worrisome moments, Bolgrith feels three solid tugs on the rope in his hands.
“Rolg!” Simon shouts, watching the hobgoblin go under. He throws down his buckler and pack and wades waist deep into the river, about to dive.
Simon moves quickly to the boat, double checks the line, and pushes it back into the river. “Jamie, take the rope. I don’t want to wait around for whatever that is to reach us.”
Jamie nods and takes up the rope as Simon pushes off into the water.
It takes him a moment to adjust to the current and the small bobbing raft, but the lordling eventually lands at the other side. He ties the rope to the raft and waves to Jamie.
“Pull! Let’s go!”
Make STR checks DC 10 to paddle half your land speed across the river. If you roll a 1, add a Swim check.
Jamie is able to pull the empty raft back to the south bank of the river.
Simon follows the instructions of the dwarf clergy.
Heal check to aid 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 2 + 1 = 14 Woot.
Simon rushes to Bolgrith’s side to pull Jamie to the shore, his jaw set with concern.
Attack 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7 for 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
An arrow springs from Simon’s bow, and splashes harmlessly on the river surface.
Simon likewise gapes at the muscular head and shoulders protruding from the river.
Knowledge Local 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
In a hushed whisper, he speaks to the others. “This is the biggest, scaliest man I’ve ever seen. Can anyone understand it?”
The young noble stands stock still, watching the creature warily.
See Discussion.
Simon ties one end of the rope to the raft. He judges the distance of the river, borrows Balion’s coiled rope to span the distance.
“Now, if we tie to this tree,” the young noble gestures to the one beside him, “and whoever reaches to the other side, ties to that tree,” he points to a tree across the river, somewhat downstream (in H1), “That ought to serve as a line to cross with. Now, who wants to go first?”
Simon looks to the rest of the party.
Aladdin, Perception? Also, when you decide to summon Squall, make a caster check. I'm telling you now in case I forget later.
Simon nods. “That might work.”
The noble pulls the rope from his pack and starts to unroll it.
Simon looks over his bow for any damage, and then checks the straightness of the arrows in his quiver.
Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8 Heh, yup.
Simon puts on his armor, and munches down hardbread, jerky, and a bite of cheese. Rolling up his pack, he pulls out his map. He surveys the river and the mountain range, before pointing to the worn parchment.
“This is probably the Barrowsweep. Which means…” he digs through his pack and retrieves the note found at the Lord’s Landing in Hagglesport. He rereads it, checks the map, and squints to the foggy wooded northern horizon.
“The map does not mark it, but Wolftooth Cave should be near the Fireblood Mountain, so the cave should be,” the young noble points north, “two or three days north? I remember hearing that Fireblood Mountain is an active volcano. We might want to skirt the edge of the Barrowood, the goblins live in the mountains and in the eastern plains. And I‘d like to avoid any tribes or southbound raiding parties if we can.”
Simon looks to the others before nodding and putting away the papers.
Roll Knowledge Local in case you may have heard any rumors concerning the untamed north!
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