Sasha offers Aivar a snort of nervous laughter before following the others into Brigid's demesne. Inside the new space, the rogue is happy to let Raquel and Nariel take the lead. Sasha has little trust in fey and even less in the places they were said to live.
She keeps an eye out for anything suspicious or dangerous while doing her best to follow the conversation.
Tristan chuckled to see the elven mage, normally so reserved, babbling on. He waited for her to pause for breath (which took longer than you'd expect) to interject.
"Your mastery of both magic and gardening are something to marvel at indeed. And as Raquel says, while we are here on behalf of settlers, we aim to make as harmonious a stay as we can manage," he says following his own introduction.
Arianna follows with some hesitation, recalling stories from her childhood of those who went to fey places, believed themselves there only briefly, only to return and find a lifetime had passed.
She keeps her wits about her and watches closely for any sign they are being tricked.
Unlike the others, Aivar is too distracted by the fey's shears. No, it isn't the thought of those shears giving his ears or scalp a trim, but whether or not this fey has something to do with the blasted elf-hating trees. Wait, maybe those tiny fey creatures the trees had feasted on are her friends or people?
To the outside world, Aivar is pulling many a funny face as the paladin does what he doesn't do best: trying to think. He swallows his words for now but is eager (and aching) to present the silver shears they've found to the woman and tell her about their findings.
Brigid shakes her head rapidly as Nariel fires questions at her. "Wheesht, child, so much to ask, so much need - you're like a little chook with a mother hen, so you are." She gives an almost negligent gesture, and Nariel's seat is suddenly occupied instead by a tiny, fluffy, yellow-feathered bird.
The effect lasts no more than five seconds before the chick morphs back into the tall elf. Brigid looks ruefully at her fingers: "Ah, and isn't that the Eldest for you: as much power as to do their task, and not a jot or tittle more."
The tiny woman brushes her dark hair back from her face and gives Nariel an indulgent smile. "There's the answer you were looking for, my girl. I can do what I can do because I can do it, and I can no more teach you that than a river can teach you to swim. Your magic is a book-learning thing, and there's no short-cuts; but when you've the knowing of it, it'll be yours to command, at your own whims, and nobody will be able to take it from you, so they won't."
Her eyes gleam with a wary mischief as Raquel and Tristan talk of your purpose here. "Ah, so it'll be settling and harmonious, will it? That'll surely be a thing to see. And as for askin' me about the surrounding region - do you not know who owns this land? Who it was stolen from? You'll not be telling me you know nothing of the Queen?"
She gives you all a crafty look as she observes your faces. "Ah, so and good, you have heard of her. And you're best not to say her name, or her title, is my advice to you."
She stands up and moves towards the stove, where the kettle is boiling.
"Now, who's for a nice cup of tea?"
Having morphed into a wee bird and back again, Nariel appears startled for a second, but then cracks a perky smile as she claps her hands "Oh, what delightful magic!" Glancing around, Nariel observes the more staid expressions of her companions, and decided to reign in her excitement. Turning her attention back towards Brigid, Nariel cleared her throat in a bid to reset her own tone "Um, yes, a cup of tea would be lovely, thank-you Brigid."
Brushing an some errant strands of hair away from her face, Nariel appeared lost in thought as she listened to Brigid. After a moment though, she glanced up and spoke in a more sombrely "Yes, we have had our encounters with her, in one manner or another." Looking up from her teacup, Nariel adds "Brigid, is there anything you can tell us of her, or the history of this region you alluded too? It would help to know what dangers might await us."
Raquel is surprised by Nariel's sudden transformation. As the elf continues questioning their host, the cleric gives the wizard a thorough examination. "Just checking to be sure she didn't leave you with any feathers," she explains.
Tristan manages to take Nariel's rapid transformation in stride, without reacting more than an amused tilt of his head.
"Ah, yes... we're well aware of some rather strict protocol regarding... that personage." Tristan responds. At the offer of tea, he has a minor hesitation... but decided it would be more dangerous to appear rude. "That would be lovely, thank you."
Sasha winces when their curious host mentions the Queen, but when nothing untoward happens, she sits and accepts a cup of tea.
"She has quite the vain streak. We can't say her name or even hint at her presence without her sending magic wolves or leaving a slain unicorn for us to find."
Brigid sniffs loudly as she pours out the tea. "Ah, that dratted creature! All he did was get a lot of good fey killed." She surreptitiously wipes at her eyes as she puts the teapot back down. " I could have told him, but arguing wit' a unicorn's sense of right and wrong is a fool's errand, so it is."
She looks back at Nariel. "I'm not much of one for the giving of information at the best of times, which these surely aren't if you hadn't noticed, foolish chooks that you all are. Traipsing into these lands without knowing what you're doing, I don't know..." She shakes her head sternly. "Besides, I'm under a strict oath as a Watcher."
The miniature woman takes a long drink of her tea and regards you all in silence. "Ah, don't be looking at me like that now. Here's what we'll do. Aiding one side or t'other is strictly against the oath of the Watcher, but it says nothing about trade, so."
"Some way south of here is a pool of boiling mud. If it should happen that you find it on your travels, bring me back the black rattlecap mushrooms that grow there and we'll see if we can't arrange a trade, hey?"
Raquel nods in thanks for the information Brigid provides, scant though it might be. "We will keep an eye out for those mushrooms."
She turns to her companions. "It feels like we've been here for quite some time. Should we move on?"
"We're happy to trade, certainly. Though if I may: is it permitted within the Watcher's oath to tell us more about a Watcher.... is? Other than the implied and obvious, of course. There are obviously more factions in this land than we'd realized, and I've been endeavoring to be a bit less foolish of late. With mixed results, as you seem to have noticed."
Tristan attempts his charm, wondering whether or not it'll turn out to be just another foolish decision.
Brigid nods, slowly. "I watch for signs of the Queen waking up, and any signs she's trying to take back the land they took from her. More than that, I'll not say."
Making your way outside again once your conversation concludes, you find that - now you know it's there - you can just spot the slight shimmering haze that marks the enchantment on Brigid's territory (you'd previously dismissed it as a heat haze, which in the hot Arodus sun is not unreasonable). It's then an easy matter to skirt around it and reach the shores of the lake. Your horses stoop thirstily and drink, ignoring you.
Other than the sound of your horses drinking their fill, and the water of the vast lake lapping at the shore, the land around is quiet in the heavy Summer sunshine.
20-30 ARODUS 4719
Turning back towards the West, you plunge deep into the shade of the woods. Beech, oak, ash and elm: all good hardwoods, suitable for logging if your nascent province ever reaches this far. Three days later, you encounter another river: this one wide, murky, slow-flowing, full of silt and mud. A week or so later and you have traced it back along its length to its source: a plurality of freshwater springs, burbling up from the ground and making the land muddy and treacherous underfoot.
Ahead of you, the tree canopy is less dense and different - willow and the occasional mangrove, spread-rooted and with branches heavy with moss and old man's beard. Beyond that, out of sight to the West, a cloying breeze brings the stench of marshwater and swamp.
You are a long way from home.
Raquel wrinkles her nose at the swampy smell. ”Ew. Maybe we should head back to town to check in on things?”
Holding her hand to her face a moment to mask the smell, Nariel tries to mask her discomfort as she takes out the map. "If we do head back, we could explore due North and then cross the bridge across the Shrike."
Arianna glances at the map, tracing the route Nariel suggested. "Hm...we could do that, I just hope that we can rely on being able to cross there."
So, this 'Queen' was successfully desposed at some point. I wonder who her enemies were then? Mortals? Some Fey faction? Some of the Fey at least seem uneasy enough about her to set up an entire order just to keep an eye out...
Tristan rather wishes he could speak to Brigid some more, but also somewhat doubts his ability to gain more information without annoying her - the which he very much wanted to avoid doing.
Tristan finds he doesn't mind the marsh smell so much. It has interesting sort of mustiness to it, of secret things long forgotten under mud.
He nods at Nariel. "Seems like an efficient plan, and I agree we should get back. Never any knowing what sort of problems they've come up with during our absence."
31 ARODUS; 1-9 ROVA 4719
Crossing the murky river at its marshy headwaters, you proceed North. As you do so, you note that although the trees are just as densely packed here, there are more signs of human activity in this part of the Narlmarches: the occasional coloured rag indicating where a trapper has left a snare or some other means to catch their prey; signs of long-abandoned campfires; and so on. You don't spot anyone - with the horses and your numbers, you're easy for any lone individuals to hear coming and avoid easily - but it's somehow less lonely knowing there are others nearby.
Several days later, you cross the Skunk River at the ford where you encountered those river drakes so many months ago. A few days after that, and you are out of the great forest altogether and back in the hills of the Kamelands, and heading back for home.
You don't notice it at first, since it was always cooler under the wooded shade of the Narlmarches, but the oppressive Arodus heat has already dissipated. The days are still sunny and warm, but you are definitely approaching the last days of Summer.
10-13 ROVA 4179
A few days' trek through the hills later, and you are back home. Cresting the final slope, you look down on the town of Thornhold, nestled against the river on the very edges of the Rostland Plains. You pick up the smell of smoke long before, of course: the dark, acrid scent of coal-fire from the forge of Wladimir's Smithy, mixed with the gentler woodsmoke from several dozen chimneys. Now that it comes into view, you hear also the hubbub and clamour of a small town: dogs barking, animals lowing as they are led hither and there; even the occasional neigh from one of the few horses owned by richer townsfolk or travellers.
All is chaos and noise - but somewhere down there, too, is a hot bath and a friend or two waiting to hear from you.
"Ah! It's good to be home. I'll buy the first round!" Raquel grins and heads straight to the tavern for drinks and to catch up on the latest gossip.
Nodding at Raquel with a demure smile, Nariel motioned towards the Inn "I am going to have a bath first, after which time I would like to get an update from Lady Medyved. Will you still be at the tavern? I can join you then." It was somewhat of a rhetorical question... Nariel figured that while she might be gone several hours, Raquel could probably still be found reveling in drink and song, a thought that brought a kind giggle to the otherwise stoic elf "See you in a bit."
It's almost exactly a month since you left, and there are some noticeable changes in Thornhold. The first is that someone (presumably Yuri and/or Kesten) has put together a town watch of sorts, two of whom meet you as you approach. One has seen altogether too many Winters, and his arthritic knuckles struggle to keep a grip on his spear; his younger companion has a voice that squeaks as it tries to register the change from childish treble to adult baritone. They throw a hasty salute to the Graf as he passes, and disappear to inform the others of your arrival.
The second change is that you finally have a place to call your own! The River Manse is fully constructed, and (although not nearly as palatial as a nobleman's villa) it has enough space for all of you, together with function rooms for receiving guests, giving audiences, and other such matters that a Graf has to attend to from time to time.
At the tavern, Raquel finds that the mood is reasonably festive: the shock of the werewolf attacks has faded somewhat with time, and the harvest is safely in prior to the onset of the Autumn rains that are surely coming. Karl the Rostlander gives you a nod as he serves your drinks. He seems pleased that you are no longer using his tavern as your lodging-house. Provided that you don't linger for too long in the taproom, you are his honoured guests: the Graf is toasted several times and the stories that you choose to share are listened to eagerly, and the drinks are free.
He gives you another, firmer, nod when it's time for you to leave. Nobility is all well and good, but the commons prefer not to have it around when they're trying to relax and let their hair down.
Sasha will grab a drink with Raquel before going off in search of Eva. It never hurts to keep informed.
Eva gives you a crooked grin: "Wotcher." She is drinking some sort of home-distilled moonshine with a rowdy-looking group; at her instruction, one of them (a thick-set balding man, fast running to fat) pulls out another tin cup, filling it with viscous, clear liquor before passing it to you.
Eva grins. "Bottoms up!" She knocks the drink back in one go.
14 ROVA 4719
Passed! Unrest down by 1 so is now 1
Pay Consumption 5
5 BP left in Treasury
9 BP taxes, +1 BP from the mine
15 BP in Treasury
The next morning, rested and refreshed after your first night in weeks spent in a proper bed, you make your way downstairs. Karinna (branching out from her usual muted greys and blues by wearing a dress in red, which she somehow manages to make look demure) has arranged one of the rooms in the Manse into a councilroom, complete with a large trestle table - or at least, you assume that there's a table there because something has to be supporting all of the paperwork, unless it somehow found a way to levitate.
Once you are all seated (Aivar's chair, naturally, is somewhat grander than everyone else's and is at the head of the table), Karinna fills you in on what has happened over the last month and where things stand in terms of revenues, outgoings, expenses, liens and so on. Jhod interjects periodically with more people-oriented details: how many are now in your town, what level of provision is needed, how housing is being allocated, births, deaths, funerals, that sort of thing.
(The tl;dr version: you have enough in the treasury to cover your immediate costs, plus something to spend; and people are still unhappier than you might like them to be, but things are improving.)
By the time they have both finished reporting back to you, the morning is well and truly over. Servants (yes, you live in a mansion, you now have servants) come in and take away the remains of breakfast, and set about getting things ready to serve lunch.
Then comes the discussion on what to do next: where will your realm expand to? What buildings will you construct?
Raquel cheers triumphantly when she sees the finished manor. She rushes ahead of the others to claim the best room in the house (aside from the graf's, of course).
She attends the council meeting in her clerical vestments, the homespun brown robe and wine-red sash. Having usually served up the meals and refreshments during these meetings, she seems a little uncomfortable having servants waiting upon her now. The priestess doesn't say much during the meeting, leaving the logistics of running the kingdom to those with more of a head for those sorts of things. Instead, she occupies herself by making eyes at Yuri from across the table and sending coquettish looks his way.
The return to civilization does Aivar well. From the harrowing weight of the mithril plate to the constant torment of his horse carrying his behind forth through uneven terrain, for once he gets to enjoy a heartbeat without such bothers! Sure, trudging through the mires in regular plate with no horse to carry your supplies would be worse, but suffering tends to be a personal affair and right now, Aivar's scope is limited to his own plight.
As always, there are a thousand and one things to do and attend to upon returning home, but Aivar takes the moment for what it is: a blessing. And consequently, the Graf blesses himself with a long night's rest. It feels strange to do something so selfish, but what doubts he might have are smoothed over by his feet and rear's insistence that some rest truly is best.
He finds that his mood has given him wings as he flies downstairs the next morning, only to be greeted by a delightful sight. "My Lady," Aivar greets Karinna as he curtsies and marvels at the woman's fashion sense. "You continue to outdo yourself." The smile that accompanies the compliment is like the first warmth of spring. Before she knows it, Aivar moves on to his seat - fleeting, just like the blessings of spring.
Reinvigorated by the many hours spent in bed, Aivar has no problems taking in all the information fed to him by his advisors. A lot has happened in their absence, and a whole lot more has to be arranged for. "The fact that resentment and unhappiness are still a thing of note worries me. We have done what we can to facilitate accommodations and jobs, but in the end, we can only help shape the conditions in which their lives take place with the resources at our disposal. It is clear we cannot exchange what resources remain for an adequate and sufficient answer to the source of the people's resentment, but we can take the first step and show the inhabitants of Thorn we both recognize the issue and have plans to deal with it. A slow-burn investment, of say five to ten percent of our incoming profits, can be directed to a fund for building new and improving existing housing and setting up a sort of borrowing fund for starting farmers and craftsmen. All we need to do is to help them find their footing. For us, gold is a tool to get things done, for them, the food on their table and clothes for their children."
He pauses and gives everyone some time to consider the words just spoken. It's a trick his father taught him many years ago. Emotions are the first to rush to action, son. Speak and wait, and reason might come to the table once emotion has worn itself out.
"To elevate this rather dreary fiscal policy into something that might actually grip the people's hearts and attention, I suggest we introduce some sort of local competition for the farmers and craftsmen. We stumbled upon a pair of exquisite silver shears and I figure we ought to reward these for a year to the farmer who has produced the best wool. Said farmer and his wool will then carry the Graf's personal stamp of approval, meaning that whatever is fabricated out of it - be it clothes, a tapestry or draperies, can be sold with my personal approval. If the competition catches on, we can expand it with one or two more prizes for other disciplines, but the message it has to send is this: we care, we are invested, and we are willing to help. If we want to succeed, we must do this together."
Raquel looks away from Yuri to consider Aivar's suggestion. "That sounds like a good idea! I think the townsfolk will really go for something like that. And anything we can do to make their lives easier, I'll support."
She leans forward. "Speaking of which, I think it might be time to establish a formal place for the people to worship at. Us Caydenites may be content with the tavern," the cleric says, throwing a wink Yuri's way, "but Father Jhod, I'm sure you're tired of having to proselytize on street corners. A proper temple to Erastil would be a great boost to morale, if we can afford it."
Tristan nodded thoughtfully at the ideas. "You've the mind of a banker, Aivar. That fund sounds very interesting. We ought consider the idea of a permanent festival day or two, as well. Nothing lifts the spirits like a holiday. It will help people come together as a single community as well - build a little bit of camaraderie."
Arriving at the new Manse, Nariel goes about the mundane task of inspecting its design and construction. Heading upstairs, she looks for a room with a balcony to claim for her own, or at least a room that had easy access to the roof. With her own private space, Nariel had the intent to take up some astronomy during clear nights.
The next morning, Nariel arrives downstairs to the meeting with ledgers and maps in hand. Though dressed up for the occasion, Nariel appears lost in the business of state, and glides across the room in distracted fashion, finally settling in a chair beside Lady Karinna. As the reports are given from their advisors, Nariel finally lifts her head from her documents to give her undivided attention towards them, though she asks few questions. Throughout all of the conversation, Nariel appears somewhat hard to read, displaying somewhat neutral in her manner, though clearly interested.
Finally glancing over at the others, Nariel responded in a frank manner "A place for worship is an effective way to give comfort to the populace. Based on the current treasury, and think Lady Karinna would agree with me, a temple is simply not realistic at this time. A shrine to Erastil would be though." Looking towards Aivar with a more serious look, Nariel responds to his idea "The treasury could provide some form of grant, though I might suggest we keep the initial funds at the lower end of what you have suggested. Such an edict might engender some stability."
Putting her hands on the map, Nariel takes a moment to collect her thoughts before she continues "With that all said, I feel we must continue our expansion northward towards the border and improve economic ties with our neighbours. This requires further infrastructure expenditure. We should claim this parcel of land here," pausing for a moment, Nariel points out intended expansion (J2) "we can convert it to farm land, and finally link up Thornhold with the outpost and the main road to South Rostland. This will provide some immediate economic benefit, allowing a more free flow of goods between Thornhold and Brevoy."
Edict to provide grants from the treasury. Increase consumption by +1, +1 stability.
Build a Shrine to Erastil - 8 BP, reduces unrest by one (to zero) and +1 loyalty
Expand to J2 - 1 BP
Convert J2 to farm - 2 BP, reduce consumption by 2
Finish road to the trade post - 1 BP, with 4 hexes of road = +1 economy
Total from all three options
12 BP
+1 Consumption (Grant edict)
+1 stability (Grant edict)
+1 loyalty (Shrine)
+1 economy (Road connection)
-1 unrest (shrine)
Arianna returns to Thornhold eager, and is encouraged by the sight of a Watch--and stays stoic at the sight of the men (and boy) in the watch.
As opportunities arise, she introduces herself to the members of the newly-assembled town watch and tries to put names to faces.
At the meeting, she does her best to keep up. "We did make some accomodation for festival days, they were, erm..." she says to Tristan, and flips nervously through her journal.
At the meeting, she does her best to keep up. "We did make some accomodation for festival days, they were, erm..." she says to Tristan, and flips nervously through her journal.
"Six days a year." Karinna looks up briefly from her notes before considering what Aivar has said.
The Graf's idea of a "borrowing fund" is discussed first.
Jhod is heavily in favour. "Aye, tha has a good plan - it shows the working folk that we're on their side, that there's help available if they need it."
Karinna is dubious: "I like the idea, but we have a lot of expenditures already and this adds another drain on our coffers - which we don't have a lot of. What happens if something comes up and we have to abandon it? Wouldn't that cause more problems?" Kesten nods gloomily in agreement. "Taking something away from someone is always worse than never giving it to them in the first place."
Eva doesn't like the idea of spending money on other people, and Yuri is neutral.
The idea of a "competition" also divides opinion.
This time, Karinna and Yuri are in favour. Both have disciplines (music and swordsmanship, respectively) where merit and ability are recognised and talent - at least in theory - makes its way to the top.
Jhod and Kesten are sceptical: in their view, it could look as though the Graf is telling the common folk that their current efforts are not enough: "Tha's basically commanding them: work harder, I need softer sheets to sleep in at night and better wine to drink." The priest is emphatic that he thinks this is a bad idea.
The idea of a shrine meets almost universal approval, although Karinna makes it clear that she doesn't consider there's funding for this and the "borrowing fund."
The idea of expanding into farmland creates some argument: Karinna and Jhod are both in favour of having enough food for the populace (although for slightly different reasons); while Eva and Yuri are more in favour of claiming the gold mine: Eva because "You wanna cheer people up? Show 'em shiny stuff!" Yuri is more of the view that having displaced the trolls from it, you should claim it before something else moves in - or tries to claim it first. "For the moment, it's anyone's to take. If those kobolds decide they want it, I don't think we could take it off them."
Kesten is forced to agree with that assessment: "Fighting kobolds underground is not my idea of a fun afternoon."
"I have to say I agree with securing the mine. I know little of these things, but if a lot of people want something - and everyone wants gold - it doesn't stay unclaimed for long."
Tristan had little to say about the rest of it. "Perhaps pick one of the shrine or this farmer's fund? The fund seems a good idea, but if it would endanger our overall finances it might be a bit premature. We can wait until we're on a more solid footing and revisit the idea."
He pauses for a moment, his brow furrowing in only half-affected confusion before speaking again. "Also, I'd like to formally complain to Aivar, Karinna, and Thornhold in general for bringing us to the point where I am counseling prudence in regards to spending money. It's a new experience for me and I'm not sure I like it."
Raquel chuckles at Tristan's joke. "If we have to choose, I'd favor the shrine over the farmer's fund, at least for now."
Feeling like a misplaced weathervane, Aivar withstands the criticism coming his way from every corner of the room. It's true, he had not considered that the people might take the competition as a subtle way of saying 'work harder!'. But would they really? The thought is too chewy for the Graf at this point, so he opts to let it stew for a while longer before making up his mind. "I'll consider all you've said on the idea of a competition. If the people are to take it as an insult to their efforts, ah, well that's clearly not we want nor what we're trying to say!"
The discussion bounces on from one rocky topic to the other. Next up is where to expand to. Having liberated the mine from the clutches of a band of trolls, Aivar is feeling rather keen on securing it right away. "Securing a source of gold is one way to ensure the continued support of those who are willing to finance us. And since gold seems to be such an issue, it seems wise to secure it now that we can. I'm not sure if we should make it common knowledge we're about to exploit a source of gold - it might attract the wrong crowd of fortune-seekers. Perhaps ... perhaps the mine ought to be a holding of the Dornmark and so, one of the Graf's personal holdings. Please do tell me if that's a crazy thought, but opening the mine to private ventures ... the smell of gold does things to people."
Following along intently, Nariel keeps her cards close as the advisors lend their thoughts behind each option. When Aivar weighs in, Nariel scribbles down a few notes in her ledgers and looks up after quickly running up some numbers "It will be tight Lord Kurisyl, but we could reclaim the mine, build new roads to the mine, construct a new Shrine and create a grant for small business and farmers, though Lady Karinna is correct... all those expenditures will leave the treasury somewhat threadbare until we collect taxes."
Tapping the tip of her quill on the table for a moment, Nariel speaks up "With all that in mind, I think in hindsight that the mine should be acquired. I have little desire to have to reclaim it a third time should we leave it unoccupied any longer." Glancing over at Aivar with a nod, Nariel adds "That said, we should still develop our road system. Providing a functioning road between the mine and Thornhold makes economic sense."
Taking a sip of wine, Nariel shrugs "As to the competition, I have no strong feelings about it, one way or another. I am not entirely certain what economic benefit it might produce, but neither do I see the harm. Father Jhod and Kesten may have the right of it though, so any competition should be carefully marketed so as not to create a poor impression or send the wrong message to all and sundry."
Thinking it over futher, Nariel refutes her earlier assumption "Actually, I have failed to include the cost of getting the mine refurbished and operational. It will likely include significant investment, in which case we can either build the shrine, or get the mine up and running... the treasury likely cannot handle both."
"I think it's more important that we secure the mine first," Raquel says. "The shrine can wait another month."
Aivar grimaces when Narièl shares the state of their treasury. "Perhaps I should take a greater interest in building up my own estate to ensure the Mark can count on a more regular and sizable cash flow. We're still enjoying a modicum of momentum, but without gold, we won't be able to keep it up. So, if any opportunities to bolster the treasury come by, do share them. For now, let's focus on securing the gold mine and getting it operational again."
Nodding as Aivar makes his final decisions, Nariel responds "Very well then, we will commit funding to the mine and build the shrine at a later date." Scrawling down some additional notes, Nariel lifts her ledger up and recites the list for the month "So to recap; secure and refurb the mines, road construction and the designated new grant... have I missed anything?"
1. The Grant Cost: 1 BP Consumption
2. Claim Hex J4 and connect with roads. Cost: 1 + 3 BP
3. Refurbish the mine: 6 BP
Total Cost:10 BP + 1 additional BP consumption
Changess
+1 Loyalty (Grant)
+2 Economy (Mine & Road)
+1 BP during tax phase (Mine)
-1 BP Consumption (Grant)
Think that is covers everything. Let me know if I missed anything here.
14-21 ROVA 4719
No events this month
It's fair to say that the announcement re-opening the gold mine generates far more excitement than anything else the Graf has to say right now. His idea of a fund for those who need it is received with some approving nods, while the competition is met with mixed views: those who have prospered in the new province are pleased to have the opportunity for recognition, and those who haven't prospered are more downcast. The overall effect cancels out, more or less, although the Indentured workers appreciate the fact that they are included.
The end result is that the province is better-off than it was a month ago, and more settled. Which, as Kesten notes, is progress "Until the next thing comes along - and it will come along, mark my words! Best we can do is get ready for it. That way, some of us might survive it. You have to be positive about these things."
22-25 ROVA 4719
By the time you leave Thornhold to travel once more into the wild, the season has most definitely turned: Summer is past, and Autumn has come. Today is the Equinox. From hereon in, the nights will be longer than the days.
It is a measure of the progress you have made so far that it takes you several days' travel simply to get to unexplored land.
26 ROVA TO 7 LAMASHAN 4719
Your explorations take you around the Western edge of the vast Lake Silverstep, and you encounter a river trailing West through the Kameland Hills. Following the river as it winds its way through the hills, you find yourselves more than a week later on the Eastern shore of the other lake, you know, the one with the bandit fort at its edge and near where Brigid lives (you really are going to have to start finding names for things).
Some miles distant from the lake, you encounter something unusual: whether from some subterranean volcanic activity or other weirdness, the ground gives way sharply to a vast pit of boiling, bubbling mud. Around the edges of the pit, and clinging to the sides and at the bottom, vast swathes of vegetation are growing in abundance, along with with mushrooms and moulds of all kinds - including black rattlecaps. You can identify these last because the wind which is lashing the Autumn rain into your faces (whichever way you turn) is making the rattlecaps, well, rattle.
The stench of sulphur hangs over this place, as the hot mud froths and boils. Your horses refuse to go anywhere near it.
Raquel wards herself with resist energy (fire) before braving the boiling mud. The stench makes her gag, but she tries to focus on gathering the rattlecaps.
Tristan grimaces, though in all truth his nose was much less sensitive to odious scents than it had been a few months ago. "I preferred hot springs when they were just water."
When Raquel waves in, sighs. "Leave it to you to find a mud pit irresistible. but be careful! We don't know how deep it is."
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The stench is indeed foul, as the reek comes not only from the sulphurous clouds but from the densely-matted piles of rotting vegetation. However, the pit holds more peril than merely an affront to the senses: a vast clump of vegetation suddenly rears up and strikes at Raquel, taking a chunk out of her with a vicious bite!
Before anyone can react, the enormous creature has grabbed the cleric in its mouth and swallowed her in one vast gulp.
Aivar
Arianna
Sasha
Tristan
Nariel
Raquel 25/45, sickened
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Raquel looks back at Tristan with a grin. ”The mud is good for the skin! Really opens up your pores—“
Unfortunately, her back is turned with the plant monster suddenly emerges. She screams as she is grabbed and vanishes down the hungry creature’s gullet!
The monster’s stomach is humid and cloying. Its digestive fluids cause Raquel’s flesh to sizzle and threaten to paralyze her, but she manages to fight for mobility. Sobbing, the cleric draws her rapier and stabs it into the thing’s stomach lining, trying to cut her way out!
Unable to reach Raquel within the next split second, Aivar circles around the mud pit until he finds a line of attack. He recites a prayer to Shelyn and like that, his weapon bursts into flame.
Arianna shouts, spewing curses as she tries to move forward through the mud while racking her brain and coming up with nothing. As she runs she pulls out a glass flask filled with swirling oils, which she pours onto her buckler, and her handaxe. The gases sting her eyes and choke, but she is resolved and has eyes for the creature.
Holding her hand to her face in an attempt to mask the stench, Nariel appears distracted as Raquel wades into the mud. Suddenly though, as the monstrous plant swallowed her friend whole, Nariel snapped back to reality in a hurry. Her tone mixed with shock and anguish, Nariel simply shrieked out "Raquel!"
Reacting quickly, Nariel grabbed some components from her belt pouch and began to summon up some support for this vicious creature.