You have all booked a trip from Eleder to Zelkor’s Ferry on a supply ship, the Trader Mage. The journey takes several days to cross Desperation Bay before it meets up with a riverboat called the Yellow Dagger. You, and several crates of cargo transfer to the riverboat which takes you another day upriver to Zelkor’s Ferry. The riverboat small crew make sparse small talk with you during the trip. The Mwangi captain, Riko Jaskin, probes a little here and there about the goings on in Eleder.
When you arrive at the long, wooden dock of Zelkor’s Ferry, there is a Mwangi man fishing off the far end and another man, Chelish perhaps, waiting on the dry dirt. He introduces himself as Captain Skorma. He casually inspects the cargo as it is moved by two young Mwangi men into a small cart. After he nods approvingly they head towards one of the few buildings in the Ferry and quickly disappear inside.
“Adventurers and sellswords by the look of ya.” the Captain says. He wears a very serious looking mustache, waxed in a fashion that was popular in Cheliax years ago. “Zelkor’s Ferry is a tiny place, as you can see. Tiny, but orderly. No thieven and no killin. Plenty o that going on out there,” he sort of gestures behind himself to the northeast. “Me and my men got no problems with your type. You be good guests and we’ll be good hosts, if you take my meaning. I expect you’ll be wantin a bed, head on over to Bristleback’s and Amelia’ll get ya cosy.”
You head across the small peninsula toward the gate and the only two story building out of the eight in town, Bristleback Inn.
“Welcome to Zelkor’s Ferry. I hope the captain didn’t question you too hard at the dock. You may be a person bent on finding an adventure, but you don’t look like a troublemaker to me.” The woman’s blue eyes seem to twinkle as she smiles at you. Her light brown hair is beginning to show some grey, but her arms look strong where she has pushed up the sleeves of her brown dress. “If it’s adventure you want, let me tell you, you’ve come to the right place. Although we hold our own here, this area can by no means be considered safe and there’s plenty for a brave soul to find and do. I’m Amelia, and my husband and I are the proprietors of Bristleback Inn. It’s been in my husband’s family for several generations.” She leads you into the building’s common room and continues. “A room with your board is one gold piece a night... Thank you very much. The stable is just next door and stabling for a horse or mule is one silver piece. Anything more exotic than that and you’ll have to ask Odo; we own the stable, too. The two fellows out there, Vort and Igor, are both decent folk and will take good care of any of your animals.”
Amelia turns to survey the room, and you take a look around also. The inn’s low-ceilinged common room is really nothing special, but out here so far from civilization it seems to have all the comforts of home. The tables are well-worn, but also well-scrubbed. In fact, a teen-aged girl with hair the color of honey is engaged in scrubbing one right now. “Don’t forget the sides, Ysbel,” Amelia says to her. The slender girl looks up at the comment, flashes a shy smile when she sees you looking at her, and then goes back to her work.
The shutters are open to let in some fresh air, and at the far end of the room a small fire burns in the fireplace as an old man snoozes in a chair nearby. Lamps are set into brackets high on the walls, to provide the most light in the evenings and also keep them out of the way of clumsy patrons. The bar is on the other side of you, before the stairs; it is supplied with a couple of kegs, and a row of pottery mugs hung on pegs on the wall. The treads on the stairs are worn in the centers.
Amelia gives one last satisfied look at the room, then turns to you. “I need to get out back and weed the vegetables or pretty soon we aren’t going to be able to find the food for the weeds. The privies are around back to the left; the kitchen garden is to the right. If you end up around that way by mistake, watch your step because I don’t want anyone trampling on my garden. You ought to take a look around and chat with some of the people here; I’m sure several of them have things to tell you about their own experiences in this area, things that might help keep you alive when you head out looking for your destiny.” With that parting remark, Amelia also disappears through the door to the kitchen.
After a moment a soft voice interrupts your thoughts. “Pardon me.” It’s the young maid; Ysbel, that was her name. She’s now working on a table nearer you, and lays down her small scrubbing brush when you turn.
“I couldn’t help but hear what Amelia said about people having things to tell you. I know someone who tells amazing stories! Some of them may even be true.” She gestures to the old man sitting in the corner by the fireplace and continues. “That’s old Russ. He’s Amelia’s grandpappy, and to hear him tell it, he may have tamed this whole area single-handedly when he was young. There’s no doubt his stories are interesting, though they might not be helpful to you. Let me just get his attention.”
Ysbel steps to the fireplace and touches the old man on the shoulder, then raises her voice a little. “Pappy! Here’s someone who wants to hear all about how you cleared out that dungeon when you were young.”
The old man starts out of his snooze and looks up at the girl, then squints at you. He uses his arms to straighten himself in his seat and squirms back and forth a little bit to get more comfortable. When you step closer, you see a pair of crutches lying next to him and note that he has a peg on his right leg. At a second glance, though, you realize that his other leg isn’t folded underneath him; it’s missing completely, cut off at mid-thigh. A small lute lies along the left side of his chair, and one of the pottery mugs stands close by on his right, placed on the broad hearth surrounding the fireplace.
“So yer interested in an adventure, eh?” Pappy begins. “I can tell ye about some adventures. I’m a bit dry though; bring me a beer, if ye’d be so kind, girlie.” He passes his mug to Ysbel, who shakes her head at him, smiling.
“Pappy, it’s way too early in the day for you to start on the beer. I’ll get you a mug of water from the rainbarrel, though; it’ll be cool.” Ysbel starts off on her errand and Pappy smacks his mouth a few times experimentally, then turns to you.
“Did ye know that we’ve a dungeon practically in sight of our watchtowers? The Mouth of Doom, they call it, out in the middle of the forest to the south of us. Oh, my friends and I found it right enough, nigh onto fifty years ago now. I suppose it was a nice enough little dungeon, and it gave us a thrill or two, but it was nothing compared to the granddaddy of all dungeons!”
Ysbel returns just then with the mug of water. Pappy takes a small sip, then downs a larger swallow with a grimace and sets the mug carefully on the hearth. Ysbel takes up her scrubbing again at the other end of the room but appears to be listening in to Pappy’s story as well.
Pappy’s voice is raised, and he shakes his fist in the air. “Rappan Athuk – now that was a dungeon! My friends and I were well known at one time, though not the stuff of bards’ tales. We were powerful, and we made our presence felt. We fought malicious specters down there, and nasty creatures with big mouths that lived in heaps of trash. We battled an undead king to a standstill, though there were no winners that day and both sides crept away to lick our wounds. In fact, we got further below that dungeon than anyone else I’ve ever known. You wouldn’t know it to look at me now but I was a powerful wizard once, back before I lost my legs – and half my mind.”
Pappy reaches for his mug and takes another drink, then sets it back down. “I’m afraid I’m worn out with all this talkin’. Though it’s nice to have an audience, I don’t usually talk this much in a week. Thank ye for listening to my adventures, but I’m in need of a little rest now.” The old man settles himself in his chair, then leans his head on one hand and his eyes drift closed. You start to turn away when you hear him mumble softly, “And whatever ye do, don’t go down the well.”
Cererithil bows his head somewhat to the old man - elders, even human elders, were worthy of some respect.
Normally he would ask the old man some questions but, like all Elves, he was patient - 'Pappy' would awake sooner or later. Time enough to cover the rumors he had heard with him then. There was value to be found in old stories - all too often they were forgotten, their lessons not passed on.
Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, he would ask for more details.
For now he had another mission. What was happening to the forests, the disappearances and disturbances, was that happening here too?
Young miss, he said carefully to the maid, Who would be best to talk to of local affairs? I have... questions.
Ysbel looks up from her scrubbing, dunking her rag into the bucket of water and wringing it out again. "[b]Captain Skorma is probably who you want sir. He is in charge of the guards here in the Ferry and usually talks to everyone coming and going. You can probably find him at the barracks across the way, or he'll probably be here for lunch in a few hours. You might talk to Ulman Dark's wife Kanndra, if she's around. She comes and goes into the surrounding wilderness a lot though and can be gone for days at a time.[b]"
She sounds like the best place to start... where is this Ulman Dark's house?.
He accepts her guidance gravely and sets out for the place, hoping that this Kannadra Ulman-Wife is available. She would be someone who sounded like she could straddle the two worlds of human 'civilisation' (such as it was) and the wild.
Ysbel wrinkles her nose and gestures toward the northern wall of the inn. "Far end of the peninsula, can't miss it. Dark is a strange, creepy man. I think the only reason Odo and the other tolerate him is because he's a pretty decent healer. I don't understand what Kannadra sees in him."
You head back outside and look north across the small peninsula which holds the settlement. From here you can see the remains of a stone wall along the far side of the spit of land, giving some small amount of protection to any attack that might come from the river on the north. It is at least head high in most places, and taller and in better shape where it meets the guard tower at the gate. The wall is only a few tumbled stones along the east side of the peninsula, though, and nothing is left of it in the area of the dock.
Built almost up against the wall on the north side, as far away from the rest of the settlement as it is possible to get, is a large wooden house: the home of Ulman Dark. It seems a bit odd that it stands so far from the other buildings, when some of the ones to the south are built literally on top of one another. You head north across the common space and realize it is grassy on this end, though it is mostly dirt near the inn and stables. The house ahead must be at least two stories tall; it is as tall as any other building in the village. There is a stone stoop, and two stone steps up to the front door. The main floor has no windows but the upper level has some, or at least you see two at the front. Cererithil knocks on the door.
"Welcome to the abode of Ulman Dark." intones the man now alone in the doorway, and you give your attention back to him. He is tall and slender with pale skin, as if he spends very little time out of doors. His black hair brushes his shoulder and falls into his eyes and his dark eyes are shadowed, as if he never gets enough sleep. "Please, step inside and let me tell you about my services."
Thank you but the only services I require is your observations and those of your wife if she is available for conversation. Tell me, are you seeing strange disappearances, and other disturbances in this town and its environs?
Elven patience for stories is one thing but this was why he came to the village - did this 'darkness' plague just his part of the wilds or the humans as well? He needed to know if it was the humans behind it or something else, and his natural directness came to the fore.
Garnult makes a face at the mention of drinking water I'm with the Wise man here. Beer cures what ails ya, good for the constitution my da always said.
After the old man says his piece Garnult says Sounds like fun.
Lorian keeps a small distance from Cereithil as listens in to the tale that Pappy told. He then moves over Cereithil and introduces himself.
Greetings my friend I see that your new here as well. This is all Lorian says to elf.
[Retro with Lorian]
The slender man brushes a bit of his hair behind his ear, “Kannadra? No, no I’m afraid not friend. She’s out there somewhere. Don’t expect her home for a few days, maybe not till the end of the week. My work keeps me close to home, you see. But Kannadra is an excellent tracker, and she’s been known to collect a bounty or two. Sometimes I give her lists of ingredients to look for on her travels, and she always brings me back what I need.” He cracks a bit of a proud smile. “Strange disappearances? Disturbances? North side of the river is very dangerous. Lots of bandits, thugs and assorted criminals there. Kannadra mentioned seeing a gnoll camp south of here a few miles about a month ago. Skorma and his men’ll take care of them should they get aggressive, but gnolls are basically cowards so not much fear there. Afraid that’s about all I can tell ya friend, but if you need healing, or poisons, diseases cured...ah now there! There I can certainly help you!”
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Pappy squints at Garnult, "Kalgor, that you ya old stump?" Leaning forward in his chair to get a better look at the dwarf he looks a little confused. "Did you finally get that keg you was tellin me about?"
The slender man brushes a bit of his hair behind his ear, “Kannadra? No, no I’m afraid not friend. She’s out there somewhere. Don’t expect her home for a few days, maybe not till the end of the week. My work keeps me close to home, you see. But Kannadra is an excellent tracker, and she’s been known to collect a bounty or two. Sometimes I give her lists of ingredients to look for on her travels, and she always brings me back what I need.” He cracks a bit of a proud smile. “Strange disappearances? Disturbances? North side of the river is very dangerous. Lots of bandits, thugs and assorted criminals there. Kannadra mentioned seeing a gnoll camp south of here a few miles about a month ago. Skorma and his men’ll take care of them should they get aggressive, but gnolls are basically cowards so not much fear there. Afraid that’s about all I can tell ya friend, but if you need healing, or poisons, diseases cured...ah now there! There I can certainly help you!!
My thanks. I will call on you again if your wife returns and will keep your services in mind.
Its a wonder that this place has survived by the sounds of all the activity around here, he thinks.
He returns to the inn although he has the intent of seeking out the Captain of the guards later.
He sits near Lorian and nods to him.
Apologies - there was need. I am seeking information as to recent disturbances and disappearances that have plagued the woods near the lands of my peoples, not all that far from this place. I have come to understand what may be causing this blight... Have you any knowledge of these lands?
Uilisfuen listens politely to the old man’s tales of Rappan Athuk. When Cererithil leaves he waves farewell. He motions Ysbel over to him and asks ”Have many other adventurers arrived recently seeking the dungeon?”
Nae Old Timer, I'm Garnult of Clan Tarnhammer. I don't know this Kalgor, but if he was a keg drinker we woulda been fast friend I'm sure of it.
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Ysbel picks up her bucket and comes over to Uilisfuen, "Many others? " She seems to give the question some very serious thought, "We have a slow but steady stream of visitors here at the Inn. Not all of them are adventurers like you, of course, but there was a group..." She sets the bucket down and tosses the scrubbing brush into it, "I guess it's been almost a year already. Five or six of them, let's see. There was a halfling and a half-orc. An elf, but he was different than you and your friend. And a couple of humans from up north. Taldor or Cheliax maybe. They were nice. Respectful and fun. The elf really enjoyed sharing stories and food and drink with the guards when they would come back from the Mouth. Haven't seen them in months though. If I remember right, they headed for Eleder, and I don't think they came back."
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Pappy waves Garnult to come closer. "Oh, my mistake, my mistake. Good to meet you Garnult! Name's Russ, but everyone calls me Pappy. I suppose if ya don't know Kalgor ya must be new in town. He's got a shop over there by the dock. Master gemcutter he is. Knows his way around a keg too! He told me last week he was expecting a keg o something called Blue Goblin Bitter on the next riverboat."
Garnult almost salivates all over himself I've heard of Blue yeah. Best stuff this side of Dammerhall... mebbe I can get a sip or two from this Kalgor, I'd bring ya back a pint if'n you're interested
"Much obliged friend!" Pappy settles back into his chair, smacking his mouth a few times and letting out a loud yawn.
You are awake elder... I heard some rumours that maybe you can collaborate? I heard that Deep within the dungeon there is said to be a place where the light of the noonday sun still shines; this place is abhorred by the foul creatures that live within the caves and caverns. Is this so? I also heard that There is a vast underground cavern system populated by hideous beasts under the Forest of Hope called “The Barrows”.
Pappy thinks about Cererithil's questions pushing his lips together and wiggling them around for a moment before he says, "Forest of Hope! Ha! Story goes, years ago when the Chelix governor's young daughter couldn't correctly pronounce the polyglot name of the forest she demanded her father rename it 'Hope.' It's original name, in polyglot, means something closer to 'place of horror.' Giant spiders, trolls, wolves, worgs, and o course bandits. Not a lot of hope in that place. Now I never been myself but I have heard tell of these Barrows, yes." Pappy scratches his chin for a moment, then wiggles his finger in left ear "Don't remember nothin about a sunlight chamber though. Can't say for sure, course, there's plenty o Rappan Athuk I aint never gonna see."
And is this "Rappan Athuk" likely the source of all the troubles in the area? Can you tell us more of the history of the place?
Pappy can I get you something to drink ? Lorian asks the Elder. He hopes to get information about the place. By any chance of wizard being involved here at this Rappan Athuk? Lorian asks the elder man.
Pappy snorts at Cererithil's question, "Yes, my new friend. Rappan Athuk certainly is the source of the troubles in this area. So many foul and vile things can be found in the Dungeon of Graves, and that serves to attrack more foul and vile things."
Pappy then recounts the legand of Rappan Athuk for you.
Hundreds of years ago, the Chelish imperial forces of Haliad the First moved to destroy the main Temple of Orcus which was taking root in the Eleder in Sargava. With their temple in ruins, the surviving high priests of this accursed demon lord fled the city with an army of enemies on their trail—an army of heroic fighters, clerics and paladins—led by Zelkor, a powerful wizard. The exact fate of these evil priests was then unknown, for not only did the remnants of the followers of Orcus disappear from all human reckoning, but so did the army of light that followed after them disappear as well. Some said that in the eternal scales the loss of so many good men was a fair price to pay to rid the world of so much evil.
The evil cult, however, had not been destroyed. The surviving priests and their followers instead settled on a hill south of the Kaava Lands, a sylvan woodland on the northwest coast of Desperation Bay. There they found a vast underground complex of caverns and mazes, carving out a volcanic intrusion beneath the hill. There, the priests of Orcus found the perfect lair to continue their vile rituals. For years, they carried on in secret, hidden from the light and from the knowledge of men.
Many years later, their underground delving completed, the evil priests erected a hideous mausoleum and a sunken graveyard atop the hill. It is believed that these graves are in fact the final resting place of the pursuing army of heroes that had been destroyed to a man. Soon after the mausoleum was erected the peaceful creatures of the wood began to disappear. Though many rangers and druids investigated these happenings, the cause of the creatures’ disappearance was not immediately determined. Some years later a powerful group of adventurers, led by Bofred, a high priest of Aroden, investigated the evil happenings and found the sunken graveyard leading to a labyrinthine complex. Bofred and his companions found great hordes of evil creatures in the complex. Though some of his companions returned from their expedition, telling tales of fantastic treasure and ferocious monsters, Bofred was never seen again—lost in the catacombs beneath the cursed mausoleum.
For the last one hundred years, ranks of adventurers have ventured to the newfound dungeon. Many fell prey to bandits, slavers and monsters in the surrounding wilderness. Rumors suggest that of those who survived to reach the mausoleum and sunken graveyard, most were slain by guardians of green stone or perished on the very first level. Those rare few who return from deeper treks speak of horrible undead and creatures that cannot be slain.
Turning to address Lorian, Pappy hands his mug to the half-elf. "Fill 'er up! There were wizards a plenty involved in these foul magics to be sure! But Zelkor, well, he was a might wizard himself and a hero! You one of those fancy magic-users?"
Uilisfuen listens closely, delighting in the old man’s lucid telling of Rappan Athuk’s history. Undead? Vile and foul things? The elders were wise to send Cererithil and me. With the help of the half-elf and dwarf we might survive.
”Pappy, how many years ago were you there?” Uilisfuen raises his voice slightly, making sure the old man hears him. ”Did you make a map of what you explored?”
Pappy shakes his head back and forth a bit, as though a tremor has overcome the old man. "Years mean something different ta you than ta me, I expect. Those days, like my leg, are long gone ta me now. You'd probably call them last month, but for me its been more than 50 years. Ol' Berkit used ta make the maps, but I doubt any of those survived. I reckon I could draw you a map ta the Mouth, but I'll bet you'd find yer way there no problems. If you head southwest out of town staying out of the woods, until you come ta the lower branch of the Kasai river. Follow the river until you come ta a ruined cottage. From the cottage head south into the hilly woods. As you clear the woods and head up the hill you'll find the Mouth of Doom. Plain as day. Probably a little over six miles, and the terrain is pretty clear besides the woods."
Lorian gets Pappy another and drink. You might say that Pappy, someone in the family got to close fey or dragons. Anyway I am on quest to see what I can find out about magic. Lorian says with gusto.
Pappy smiles in apprecation of Lorian's efforts, raising the mug in acknowledgement as he takes a big drink. "There'll be plenty for you ta learn."
It seem this dungeon is the root of all your problems bu do you recommend going there first or some other place?
When Papy is done with his drink I will get you another a drink.
Pappy smacks his gums a few more times, "If you are ready, you should head ta the Mouth!" He then accepts Lorian's drink, and drains the mug in a few hearty swollows. "Don't forget ta come back and see ol' Pappy though. You boys are alright in my book."
We will need a band of adventurers then, who will join us at this 'Mouth'.
Tha name is Tarnhammer! Don't ya forget it! I'll be joinin ya.
Very well Tarnhammer - it is good to have someone so stout with us... I think we need another.
”I was hoping you would join Cererithil and me, Tarnhammer,” Uilisfuen says, offering to shake the dwarf’s hand. He stares into Tarnhammer’s eyes.
Looking over to the half-elf, he asks, ”What of you Lorian?”
Why're ya staring at me like that Elf! I've nothing for ya, I'm already spoken for! Garnult guffaws at his own wit once more, but sobers up a bit when no one gets his joke.
No need for the thanks. Just point me in the direction of the Mouth..and stand back.
Uilisfuen blinks as the dwarf laughs. The wild elf’s lips curl at the edges. ”Ahh, my intention was not to suggest we enter a…relationship. I won’t do it again.”
Cererithil says Lets not set out right away. Best we gather more information on this 'Mouth' and its surrounds ad possibly buy some supplies if needed, agreed? We may need torches, ropes and so on.
Lets go see the Captain first... he may have a better idea than most of the dangers around here.
I agree with Cereithhil we need information before we just jump in. Lorian comes back with another drink for Pappy he was out of the room when Uilisfuen asked his question.
Ysbel pipes in, "Rasmus Pye's Trading post should have anything like that you need. Rasmus is a good, honest man."
As the group makes its way out of Bristleback's Inn, there is quite a site unfolding at the gate! Several of the guards, including Captain Skorma are standing there. They are there talking with a mounted Mwangi man who is flanked by his own group of attendants. They all seem to be talking in calm tones, and since the gates have been opened you assume they were allowed in by Skorma's men. Not wanting to disturb the Captain at this moment you head into the Trading Post...
You are greeting by a ringing sound as a bell chimes above the door. The room is full of so many things that it’s hard at first to pick out any individual items. Then the odor of the place hits your nostrils: a combination of musty furs, drying herbs, oiled weapons, and other more exotic scents. A ruddy, red-haired man looks up from where he is working at a long wooden counter.
“Greetings! Welcome to Rasmus Pye’s Trading Post!” He puts down an oiled rag he was using to wipe a sword and rubs his hands with a cleaner cloth. Coming around the counter, he extends his hand to you for a friendly clasp. “Rasmus Pye I am, purveyor of the common and the fine. Whatever you’re heart’s desire, I know where to get it for you – within reason, of course,” he adds hastily. “So you’ve just come in to Zelkor's Ferry, eh? Easy to spot new faces here. No doubt in the area seeking for adventure. The Mouth of Doom, no doubt! Just let ol' Rasmus know what you need and I’ll provide them to you at a fair price, yes indeed. Folks wonder how I can get so many things away out here, and it’s because I believe in doing right by people, and so they in turn do right by me."
”Do you know who the man is outside?” the elf points to the mounted Mwangi. ”He’s talking to the Captain.”
The elf’s eyes roam the shop’s wares. ”If we bring back some animal skins, how much will you pay us?”
Seeing a coil of rope, Uilisfuen pulls it in his hands, looking at the fibers as they are stressed. ”How much are you selling this for?”
I did not come to trade animal pelts... I will keep my peace for now on trading but stay focused on my quest - to rid this area of evil, he thinks.
We would also appreciate any advice you have on a place called "The Mouth".
Peering out the window, Rasmus looks at the mounted man. "Ghana Kamau. He and his tribemates often patrol the area further west of Zelkor's Ferry. Sometimes Kamau has bandit gear to trade with me, though his hunters do a good job keeping them fed. Trading for animal skins isn't likely to do either of us much good. If you are headed to the Mouth, as your friend suggests, I am sure you'll find plenty of interesting things to bring me in exchange for gold though!" Looking at the coil of rope, "A gold crown for the rope, though if you are looking for something less bulky, I've got a 50 foot coil of silken rope that's just as strong but weighs half as much. That'll run you a bit more though, 10 gold crowns."
"The Mouth has been home, over the years, to gnolls, orcs, bandits and worse. I've heard stories from adventurers describing great magic, secret passages, and deadly traps. There was a crew of adventurers that came through here last month set out for the Mouth. Not sure what came of them, but I haven't seem them in here to resupply."
I will remember this information and your business - it may be useful. I will take time to talk to this Ghana Kamau... these are his lands and he may have useful information.
He leaves and heads out to the mounted man.
Hail. I have heard told that your name is Ghana Kamau, and these lands around are your tribes lands. What news have you between here and the place called 'The Mouth' and what advice do you have on the 'Mouth' itself.
Lorian looks at Rasmus and say By any chance do you have a map of the Mouth or any structures around it?
Garnult waits for his allies to gather themselves and prepares to sally forth.
"If I had a map to sell you, I certainly would. Getting to the Mouth is easy enough, follow the lower branch of the Kasai river. There is a ruined house a few miles down and by then you'll see a hill south of there. Go up the hill and you'll find the Mouth, hard to miss. If you bring me back a map, I'll give you 50 gold for it!
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As you exit the Trading Post, you see Captain Skorma heading across to the barracks at a brisk pace. You approach Ghana Kamau, he is a dark skinned Mwangi man. Dressed in traveling leathers, he carries a longbow and a jeweled kukri. You notice that he has some ritual scarification on his shoulders and upper arms, which you know are common to many of the Mwangi tribes in the region.
Kamau inclines his head slightly toward Cererithil as the wild elf speaks. "Indeed ndulu elf. I am Kamau, Ghana of the Tomizenj tribe. My ndulus and I have been on patrol for the last several days, we camp here tonight behind the safety of Ghana Odo's walls. My advice on the Mouth? Stay away ndulu, that place draws in the lost souls and punishes them forever more. My patrols give the Mouth a wide berth."
”I’ll buy half a dozen chalk pieces,” he says to Rasmus.
After going outside, Uilisfuen’s face clearly shows his suspicion of the Mwangi tribesmen. His eyes narrow, and his mouth is a stiff line. Listening to the man speak, he keeps his hands near his short swords’ hilts, as his gaze jumps from the potential adversaries. Is he saying we aren’t courageous enough to enter the Mouth? I think that is what he’s imply. Or is he telling us to avoid it in order to goad us into entering the Mouth? These treacherous Tomizenj tribesmen! He grinds his teeth. Better let Cererithil keep talking to them. I don’t know if I can control myself too much.
Uilisfuen folds his arms across his chest and takes a few steps away from the group.
My thanks for your words. I think we still must brave it.
Bah, we ain't afraid of no Cave. Garnult is all bluster and grit
"Peace and steel go with you on your journey. May Xolayera watch over your all." Kamau excuses himself and rides his horse over to the stable.