Tears gather at the corners of Tegan's face until they pool over her bottom lashes and stream down her face. Her eyes glitter from the wetness. "Oh," she comments, "I- I can't. This. Is too much." She wipes at her pretty face with the back of her hand.
Her nose and the area around her eyes are pink. Her lips are redder than usual and swollen from the spice. "Why is it so spicy? My body can't handle it." Tegan pushes away the food, her delicate frame trembling slightly. A cold wind swirls around her shoulders, depositing a few rogue snowflakes on her shoulders.
"Did anyone see anything last night?"
Tegan shakes her head, her tearful face preventing her from speaking.
FORT Save:
Swallowing a few bites of the spicy food, Vik's face begins to turn red and sweat breaks out on his forehead.
"Ok, I like Vudrian food as much as the next guy, but not for breakfast!"
He gulps from his waterskin until the fire in his mouth has subsided.
"That was not a funny gag! Which one of you thought it would be amusing to see us in such discomfort?"
Rendyl tried to power through the spicy meal, but after several gulps of water and relatively little progress made on the food, he set it back down in irritation. As the others share their complaints he can only agree. "I didn't notice anything, but something has clearly tampered with our food. I'll do some hunting and get us some fresh game, if you are all agreeable?"
The ranger wasn't sure it would work, long-term. If something was contaminating the food, then it would surely attempt to do so, again. "I suggest we keep a sharper look out at night...whoever is on watch duty should probably stay close to the supplies to make it harder for them to be fooled with."
If no one objected, the ranger retrieved his bow and quiver of arrows and started trying to find them some fresh fare.
Hunting goes as planned and it didn’t take much until Rendyl can provide edible food for the group. No one knows who did it, no one assumed, no one saw anything.
Exploring continues thru the day, and nothing unusual happens, then night falls, and the group decides one more to camp and rest, but this time, they set up a watch near the food, to prevent such thing to happen again.
This time, you noticed during the day, that you’re being followed. You don’t know what, every time you turned to look, it would disappear, you are not even sure you know what is following you. But one thing for sure: It’s small, really small. Tiny like small.
You set up a fire and start to prepare you meal, talking about the day fruitful events and your future plans, as well the opposition. Are they allies? Are they enemies? You are still not sure yet.
"I'll take last watch," Tegan offers.
During the day, Damiel finds a time to talk to Rendyl without the rest of the group hearing the conversation:
"We are being followed. I have only caught a glimpse but it is small, almost tiny. I know several languages that may allow us to communicate with it, Draconic and Sylvan. Do you think we should stop and try to talk to it?"
Rendyl smiled amiably at Damiel as the elf sauntered up to him, his face darkening as he heard the man's hushed words. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded his affirmation to his elven companion. Perhaps this was their little saboteur?
Vik readies himself for taking the first watch. He sees Ren and Damiel talking off to one side and listens as Tegan states she will take the last watch. He takes his sword out and, with a well-used whetstone in hand, begins to work out any notches or scrapes he sees on the blade.
Damiel nods at Rendyl agreement, and says to everyone else, "hold a moment. We were being followed today, and I am going to try and talk with whoever it is."
Stepping away from the group, and the fire, in Sylvan "여보세요. 나는 다니엘이다. 우리는 당신을 해치지 않을 것입니다. 나와서 얘기 해보자."
The pranks are likely caused by mischievous fey creatures.
A PC who wishes to make contact with these unseen tricksters can try to stay alert and catch one in the act of pulling a prank (a difficult task for low-level PCs), but the trickster fey can often be befriended with bribes (although fey generally think of these as gifts, eschewing the ugly word “bribe”). Gifts of shiny bits of jewelry, alcohol, sugary food, and potions are particularly useful, although items that incorporate cold iron are generally hated.
==//==
After the party settles down and starts the fire, Damiel calls out in a strange language. There are some tense moments before the answer comes from the woods.
”Oh oh! You don’t need to do that, we can speak the bigginses language!” the voice boast out. ”But shame you caught us too quickly, I didn’t even my turn with the prank! Shame! Shame!”
After that, the stalkers finally reveal themselves to the charter.
A small, butterfly-winged dragon with shining eyes and a quick wit. He is quite fond of doing loops in the air while flying, sipping wine and mead (but not beer!), and perching on the heads or hats of friendly bigginses. An excitable grig, a cat-sized fey with the upper body of a waifish humanoid and the lower body of a cricket. She enjoys music and can sit for hours listening even to poor performances, and always has something nice to say about the music when it ends.
"Did you like it? It was sooo fun watching you trying to eat!" the grig says.
A swirl of cool air caresses Tegan as she tries to hold back her annoyance. "Why are you following us?" Her voice is crisp and to the point.
"Do you want to have more fun? I know some other bigginses you could play fun tricks on."
"That was a good prank, and I am sorry that you didn't get to play one" he says to the one who did not get to play. "I am Damiel, what are you names?"
"Do you know anything interesting around here? Like where the kobold lair is, or where we can find a Tatzlwyrm?"
The ranger eyed the fey beings warily, but they seemed more irritating than harmful. He recalled from years ago a couple brief lessons about the capricious nature of the fey. Rendyl kept his opinion of the prank to himself, seeing that Damiel and Tegan seem to be trying to ingratiate themselves with the creatures. Feeling the remnant of the cool air surrounding the sorceress, she was at least having to feign her mood.
The lanky man kept his eyes peeled on the surrounding woods, anxious. Just because these two had revealed themselves didn't mean that there weren't more of them. He spoke lowly to his fellows as he looked about, "I heard that offering them gifts of shinies will generally appease them or even get them friendly, for what it's worth."
Startled by the sudden appearance of the fey, Vik almost draws his sword. Standing he slowly moves towards the group, not sure if they are friends or enemies.
I’m Perlivash. a voice that sounded directly into your head said. ”And I’m Tyg-Titter-Tut. Nice to play pranks on you!” she small fey says all smiles.
As for the questions around the area, she points out:
”Someone have already kick out the mean bigginses, and someone has also killed the big mean bear! But there’s a place north, not far from here, where a mean biggins laid a lot of traps and killed lots of animals.”
”There’s also a very very veeeeeeeeerrrryyyyy good hot spring west of here, but unfortunately some mean frogs are living there, and we can’t use it anymore.” Tyg finally adds.
"Put down lots of traps! That does not sound like a nice thing" replies Damiel to the fey. "Perhaps we can find them and remove them from the place" and Damiel looks towards the group to see if they agree with that.
"What do you do in a hot springs? Take a bath?" he queries of them, and looks at Tegan, without the normal scowl, but grinning. Thinking to himself, 'that should get her vote'.
Rendyl, thinking that perhaps the fey might be grateful to the group for taking care of some of their adversaries, announced, "We are the ones who drove out the mean bigginses and the bear. We're friends." At Damiel's offer to remove the traps, the ranger shrugged. It was something the group could do, surely, but it would take a decent amount of time to sweep the area.
As the elven man asked the creatures about the hot springs, the lanky man crossed his arms and remained silent. He was unsure of what he thought of these little creatures. Perhaps they would make good allies, but he couldn't help but think they would be undependable, at best.
"Put down lots of traps! That does not sound like a nice thing" replies Damiel to the fey. "Perhaps we can find them and remove them from the place" and Damiel looks towards the group to see if they agree with that.
Tegan nods, "we should disable those traps before more people come to settle here. We don't want anyone to be hurt accidentally."
Tegan considers the hot spring how it might bring more travelers to the area. "We'll take care of those mean frogs too," she promises the small fey. She isn't startled or weirded out by the mental connections the creatures are able to make. Tegan had experienced something similar in her childhood. She thinks back to that moment:
Tegan snuggles into her mother’s skirts, sleepy from the boat’s gentle motion. April, on the other hand, fearlessly stands at the bow, her tiny arms outstretched, welcoming the landscape around her. Mira doesn’t use oars. Instead, she has one of her hands submerged in the water. The boat slides peacefully across the water with barely a ripple.
Fish and other lake animals curiously follow the vessel, occasionally poking their heads to the water’s surface to get a good look at the passengers. When the boat nears the center of the lake, Mira retrieves her hand so she can offer a hand to both April and Tegan. ”Darlings, give me your hands.”
Mira softly holds her daughters’ hands and sticks both into the water. A white fish with an orange splotch on its back swims against April and Mira’s clasped hands. Hello. You have food? April respond aloud to the fish, ”Yes. Sandwiches.” Tegan turns to her sister confused, ”What?” Tegan hadn’t heard the fish ask a question. Mira smiles at her older daughter, pleased.
The five-year-old Tegan grows concerned, upset about being left out of the conversation. ”What about sandwiches?” She insists. Feeling ignored, Tegan squeezes on her mother’s hand in annoyance. ”Momma!” Pay attention to me! A miniature hurricane swirls around Tegan and Mira’s fastened hands. Suddenly, the water surrounding the boat heaves the boat forward, splashing water on the visiting fish. Mira pulls her daughters back in surprise as the boat lurches forward by a surge of water.
”Tegan,” her sister accuses, ”you scared away the fish!” Tegan pouts, ”What were you saying?” The five-year-old and seven-year-old clench their tiny fists and glare at one another in stereotypical sibling rivalry. Pleased by her daughters’ abilities, Mira throws her head back and laughs, her enchanting voice garnering the attention of both her daughters.
Just then, the same white and orange fish reappears next to the boat, Food? the fish persists again at Mira and April. The wave of water had gotten the attention of more fish, and soon the small rowboat was swarmed by about thirty inquisitive animals.
"Put down lots of traps! That does not sound like a nice thing" replies Damiel to the fey. "Perhaps we can find them and remove them from the place"
Yehssssssss! high pitched voice, not the one from the grig sounds directly into your head. Remove them for us!
"What do you do in a hot springs? Take a bath?"
”What else would you do? But the mean frog doesn’t let us!”
==//==
After that, following the pair direction, the group moves towards north, where the fey reported the traps.
Trappers are common in the northern Greenbelt, for the furs and hides of minks, foxes, deer, and similar creatures common to the area can make a skilled hunter rich. Most of them monitor their traps and are relatively responsible in indicating their presence so that other trappers or wanderers won’t fall victim to them, but one misanthropic trapper in particular, takes a cruel entertainment from hiding his traps even from two-legged prey.
Fortunately, even if no one else is paying careful attention to traps, Rendyl takes upon himself to keep the other safe, pointing up traps, and more than once, saving the others from stepping into a bear trap themselves.
Something about Rendyl's chivalrous action of pointing out the traps makes Tegan blush. Perhaps he reminds her of her first and only love, Peter. Or perhaps it was the lanky ranger's demeanor towards her during this activity. It was an act of helping instead of the usual avoidance both were guilty of displaying.
Tegan pulls Rendyl aside after the area is clear of traps: "Could I... have a moment?"
~*~*~*~*~
The beautiful elementalist guides Milo along towards the hot spring, following her companions and their horses. Tegan's body was getting used to riding but riding still wasn't something she could say she enjoyed. A few times during the travel, the mule steps into a dip in the road, causing Tegan to lean forward and clutch the reins tighter. "I didn't expect this territory to be so big. If we're granted the charter, we should put in some decent roads." Tegan addresses her party in general. Her long eyelashes flick around to take in their surroundings. "You think there are any more bandit camps nearby?"
Glad that Rendyl is paying attention to where the traps are, Damiel follows the ranger, and when he points out a trap, grabs a nearby stick and sets the trap off. After the unmarked traps are sprung, "well, that is done. Now onto the hot springs."
Perhaps with a bit of exasperation, Rendyl traveled with the others to the locale the fey have indicated was full of traps left by the biggins. There, the ranger's keen eyes are keen to find the evidence left by the trappers in the area. The lanky man scowled as he found the cruel devices disguised to the point where anybody could trip them and possibly lose a limb to infection. He nodded his thanks to Damiel as the elf picked up sticks and helped to spring the traps, rendering them harmless.
As the petite woman pulled him aside, Rendyl went willingly enough, wondering what it could be about. When she offered a compliment, he stood speechless for a moment, then quietly uttered, "We all have our skillsets. This just happens to be mine. Thank you, though. I'm glad you are here, as well." He smiled at the lovely woman, probably the most genuine smile he's given her since they first met, then turned back to the important work at hand.
**************************
As the group left the area to head to the hot springs to clear out the fey's problem there, the ranger took the point position, watching for any potential ambushes or other possible dangers to the group. At Tegan's question, he shook his head in the negative. "There's always the possibility, but it's doubtful. I don't know how many men this Stag Lord could have, but he's lost quite a few. If I were him, I'd be consolidating my personnel before trying to establish a satellite again." The tall man shrugged his shoulders, though, to indicate he wasn't completely sure.
The faeries doesn’t follow you as the group wanders around the Narlmarches, you don’t know if they are still stalking you secretly or if they just aren’t interested in pranks anymore.
Days and nights go by as you explore your way southwest. Meanwhile, you still have to deal with the normal fauna of wild forest, as well hunt for food, but that’s daily and common chores that you’ve basically gotten used to as you adventure thru the green belt.
One interesting point is that during the exploration, you found the corpse of a trapper as he set his final trap.
In an attempt to rig a deadfall along the south bank of the Thorn River here, he overstepped his skill and was pinned to the ground by several large logs when his half-completed trap collapsed on him.
==//==
The only notable thing near the defunct is a hatchet, stuck in the stump of a tree a few feet from his dead body’s outstretched arm, a masterwork hand axe.
==//==
Then, you continue your path southwest until you finally reach the ‘hot springs’. Two hot springs bubble at the source of the Skunk River, filling the surrounding area with the distinctive odor of rotten eggs. It’s a 150 foot diameter pond at the river source.
Yep, those two creatures looks like a normal frog, with moist, mottled, blackish-green skin, but grown to truly monstrous size.
As the group approached the doomed trapper, the ranger's eyes narrowed as he looked at the rope that would have held the logs in place. He inspected the edges, noting that the fraying is much less than if tension had been what snapped the hemp. Something had cut it. "This rope was cut, friends. This man was murdered." Rendyl looked about for the fey, but could notfind them about.
Rendyl's eyes widened at the sight of the huge amphibians, then he turned to his companions. "Do we wish to strike these creatures down for the fey? I will go along as the group says." Perhaps the man they had found had been the 'bad' trapper the fey had mentioned, and maybe karma had done its job. Or maybe it had been murderous sport. The ranger didn't trust himself to judge.
"This rope was cut, friends. This man was murdered." Rendyl looked about for the fey, but could notfind them about.
Tegan shakes her head, "criminals killing criminals. I can't say he received his justice." She shows little pity for the unnecessarily cruel trapper. "Let's re-purpose his axe," she suggests.
~*~*~*~*~
I didn't expect it to smell so bad... Tegan crinkles her nose.
"Diplomacy over violence," Tegan quotes some old proverb. She brushes down her skirts to straighten them and adjusts her apron.
Tegan looks around at the group, "do you all speak any languages other than Common?"
"Giant frogs, how....unexpected. I do not think they have the capacity of speech, fair Tegan, but rather are just huge specimens. I remember seeing such in a carnival that passed through Restov. It is up to you if you wish to clean this place for the fey...I will do what you decide."
He gives a deep bow towards the group, then leans against a tree trunk as the others debate. He keeps a close eye on the frogs, not trusting them at all.
"If... If they aren't intelligent creatures, I don't see why we shouldn't kill them." Tegan adjusts her hands on her spear. She watches the giant frogs from the corner of her eye. How are they "mean" to the fey?
Rendyl shrugged, then unslung his bow and let loose at the monstrous toads. Perhaps they deserved to be here as much as the fey, but the faerie creatures could make valuable allies as they tried to civilize this wild land.
The beautiful elementalist responds to her companion's action by reaching out to her own powers. She thinks of her father, the villagers in her hometown, and her sister. Cold air begins to swirl and condense around her form. The wind thickens as more frosty snowflakes come into existence. She holds onto the element until she feels she can not longer control it. Tegan sends the Frost Blast towards the other toad that hasn't been attacked.
Rendyl, the frog killer. That is how others should call him.
Without even attempt to discuss if they should let the frogs live or not, he mocks an arrow and shoot with deadly precision. The big frog did not even see what hit him. The second frog, tries to avenge his ‘friend’ brutally killed by strangers, but while it’s still swimming towards the edge of the lake, more arrows, and ice blast falls on him, ending up his miserably life as well.
With his last breath, the frog looked towards the frog heaven, beneath the mystic swamp thinking, “What did I do to deserve such fate?”
Alas, the mystic swamp didn’t answer and so, the frog died.
==//==
Two hot springs bubble at the source of the Skunk River, filling the surrounding area with the distinctive odor of rotten eggs. Despite the smell, the hot springs are really rather pleasant to relax in.
Tegan flicks her long eyelashes down at the smelly, bubbling water. Do all hot springs smell like this? She glances over at all of the men in their party, I wouldn't feel comfortable getting in anyway.
Composed and cool, Tegan suggests: "Unless you all want to stay a while and relax, I suggest we move on." Tegan glances at the water again from the corner of her eye. Maybe another day. "But, I stand by my earlier statement: I think this would be a great tourist destination. I think... the smell isn't so bad after a while."
Unable to react as fast as Rendyl, Damiel simply watches as the ranger rids the springs of its current inhabitants. "Well, that should clear it out for the fey" he quips.
"Where should we go next. There are still some lands to the north that we have not investigated, or we could continue south and check out the rest of the woods."
"As far as quests go, the only one we know the place for is the bandit fort, and I do not believe we are strong enough to take that on quite yet. All the others we will probably just stumble across."
Rendyl nodded at Damiel's words. "Yes, let us see if they remember us as friends, or if they are as whimsical as stories suggest..." Regardless, the hot springs could be a nice attraction as the land got settled, as Tegan suggested, so making it safer was something the ranger would be behind, regardless.
The lanky man mulled over the elf's words for a few moments, then offered his opinion. "Let's go north and west and clear out the flatlands in a roundabout trip back to Oleg's to restock. It should be relatively quick going, and we can also ensure that there are no other bandit outriders in this area while we map it out."
"Agreed. Finish mapping around here, then north and west, then to Oleg to restock sounds like a fine idea" Damiel says, agreeing with Rendyl. "Vik, ladies, shall we go" and he falls in line a bit behind Rendyl, assuming that the ranger will take the lead.
Vik gets into line with the others and lets Ren lead them to explore the north and west areas.
As you deal with the frogs in the name of the fey, and with no interest in enjoying the hot water, the party decides to keep on exploring north them west, towards the trading post.
==//==
While exploring the region up north, aside the occasional wild animal, you end up finding something that unusual and surprisingly this time, only Djebelle and Viklop didn’t notice the cairn of stones.
Amid an overgrown section of blackberries lies a hidden cairn of stones marking the grave of a long forgotten barbarian. The skeleton buried under the mound of stones.
Toppling the stones and digging up the body below takes a good 30 minutes of work. Once exhumed, the body still wears tattered and rotted remnants of hide armor, and the skull still displays the crushed-in side that spelled this barbarian’s doom. Of all the barbarian’s gear, only a strange ring made of green wood on one finger seems of interest—the ring depicts an eel and a frog locked in a tangle.
==//==
The exploration continues then west, until you once again return to the trading post with nothing interesting happening.
==//==
At the trading post, the first thing you notice is that there are some more soldiers keeping guard on the walls, and there’s almost no sign of damage from the previous fire. Most likely the workaholic elf overworked himself to fix the place. There’s no sign of the opposition, you see the owner and his wife as usual, and lastly, the priest Jhod, which seems even more desolate than the last time you saw him.
When the cairn is found, Damiel looks at the group, "let the dead stay dead. There is no need to dig up this poor man." However, if group decides to dig up the man, he doesn't stop them.
Upon arriving at the trading post, Damiel admires the work that Hylaen did on the post and he makes sure to visit him during the day to compliment him. Seeing Jhod, he goes over to the priest, "Brother Jhod. What seems to be the problem? We found the temple and freed it. Why are you not happy?"
"Leave him to lie where he is. No good can come of messing with his grave."
Back at the post, Vik takes not of the repairs and nods in admiration for whoever got the work done. He also notices the priest's sour mood and goes to chat with him.
"Hoi brother, why go glum? We freed your temple, like Damiel there, said...you should be happy!"
When the cairn is found, Damiel looks at the group, "let the dead stay dead. There is no need to dig up this poor man."
The beautiful elementalist nods in agreement.
At the trading post, the first thing you notice is that there are some more soldiers keeping guard on the walls, and there’s almost no sign of damage from the previous fire. Most likely the workaholic elf overworked himself to fix the place. There’s no sign of the opposition, you see the owner and his wife as usual, and lastly, the priest Jhod, which seems even more desolate than the last time you saw him.
Since two of her companions are already approaching Jhod, Tegan decides to speak with Svetlana after stabling Milo. The chubby mule seems excited to be in a stable again, favoring a more sedentary life. His nostrils whoof as he searches Tegan's apron pocket for a treat. She smiles and pulls out an apple for the beast.
"Svetlana," Tegan approaches Oleg's wife. "Things looks better here and you look well." She leans forward to quietly ask "Is Kesten Garess doing his job properly?"
"Brother Jhod. What seems to be the problem? We found the temple and freed it. Why are you not happy?"
"Hoi brother, why go glum? We freed your temple, like Damiel there, said...you should be happy!"
”I… I…” the man tries to elaborate, but it is clear that it’s not something easy to say, he tries a few more time, before sighing deeply and finally admitting ”Something is wrong.” he says in a very ugly face. ”Ever since the guardian was released, I can’t feel my god anymore and my miracles… they… they…” he stops there, incapable of saying anything else.
Milo, the mule, observe his surrounding, the grieved priest, the small elementalist, the taciturn ranger, and awfully quiet priest and for a moment, he understands it all, he knows what afflicts the priest, what happened to the opposition, what’s in store for the charters. If he could, he would tell them, but alas, he’s but a mere mule. He happily ignores all of this, it’s not his place a mule to interfere, more importantly he has to enjoy the comfort of the stables.
"Svetlana," Tegan approaches Oleg's wife. "Things looks better here and you look well." She leans forward to quietly ask "Is Kesten Garess doing his job properly?"
”Ah, yes, it’s much better! There has been no more attacks, thanks the gods, and Kesten has been a dear, shame he doesn’t talk much.” the woman gossips happily.
Rendyl nodded in agreement with his companions, not wanting to disturb the resting place of the dead. The ranger was a big believer in karma, and definitely didn't want such an act haunting him.
The tall, lanky man looked with approval at the repairs that have been made at the outpost, seeing that Hylaen had been busy since they had left. Also improving the ranger's mood were the new complement of soldiers and the absence of any more signs of trouble. Perhaps they were making a nice little foothold here in the Greenbelt.
The ranger looked on at Jhod with mild concern. He didn't have such a connection to the gods, so he couldn't really empathize in that regard, but he understood what it was to have something and then one day suddenly not. He clapped the man on the shoulder, offering a small smile before heading off to congregate with Oleg and Svetlana.
As he hears that Garess has been doing well since their previous departure, Rendyl felt a moment of satisfaction. Their work was by no means done, but they had accomplished a great deal since coming to these lands. "Any more bounties we should be aware of? We explored a large swath of flatlands to the West, and are steadily working our way South, I'm thinking." He looked to the others for confirmation.
Like Rendyl, Damiel has no connection to any particular god, as he was more in-tune with nature, so he just nods as Jhod mentions losing his connection to his god. "Perhaps if you went back to the place where the guardian was and prayed there, it would help" he suggests.
After finishing the conversation with Jhod, Damiel hears Rendyl, and hopes that their are more bounties, as he thinks to himself, that bandit chief in the south hasn't retaliated yet, which I hope is a good sign.
”We’ve seem a fair share of new travellers on this parts, seems that the news of you fighting the bandits sparkled their interest, but no one else made and request of posted and job offer. We’ll keep an eye, and tell you if something new appears.” the woman answer your questions.
”That might help…” the priest answers, but it’s clear he doesn’t believe such thing can solve his problem. He’s happy you care, but at the same time he seems at loss if he should cause you further problems or not.
Rendyl shrugged as Svetlana let them know there were no new bounties. They still had plenty of work to do in these parts...he just would rather streamline effort and incorporate the places where bounties might exist, was all. Tegan seemed better at that kind of thing, but the ranger still would try.
Rendyl left his elven companion and the priest be, not sure how much help he could be to Jhod. Perhaps the man could pray to Erastil for guidance, but surely he had done that already. The lanky man walked over to Lieutenant Garess, letting him know of the lack of bandits in the areas far to the West. "We'll be proceeding South from now on, likely, so I suspect that a confrontation with this Stag Lord will happen soon enough. Be vigilant until that time, though."
”Ah, yes, it’s much better! There has been no more attacks, thanks the gods, and Kesten has been a dear, shame he doesn’t talk much.” the woman gossips happily.
Tegan smiles and continues her small talk with Svetlana, enjoying the other woman’s company. Tegan talks about the hot springs they found and how they disabled all of the cruel hunter’s traps. “It should be safer for travelers to come visit the Trading Post.”
Tegan excuses herself from Svetlana to approach her traveling companions for a private conversation. "The owners seem to be in a good mood. There are only two more bounties available: the Tatzwyrm and Sootscale Kobolds… I wonder if those were the same kobolds we saw at the moon radish patch.” Tegan crosses her arms and an icy breeze jostles her hair. She remembers how negotiations failed. The beautiful elementalist changes the subject: “What did the Erastil priest say? …He can’t feel his God? Well, maybe it’s his fault. Don’t you all find it odd that he’s staying here? Like, wouldn’t he return to his church? We’ve been charting the Green Belt for weeks.”
Tegan approaches her favorite person in Oleg’s Trading Post – Svetlana, and requests a tub and soap to bathe. Soaking in the small wooden tub, Tegan contemplates the contents of her next letter. She’d yet to hear a reply, but perhaps the mayor was too busy or didn’t consider it important to respond. Tegan puts on something borrowed from Svetlana while her own clothes dry. She joins the others at one of the benches by the fire.
Seated, Tegan outlines the party’s variously choices in her usual cool tone: “There are two more bounties. Probably Southwest of here. There’s the Sootscale Kobolds and Tatzlwyrm.” Tegan unfurls the map and gestures at possible locations with her index finger. "I suggest we deal with the Sootscale Kobolds next. My sister’s group has yet to return from there. ...I think Falgrim Sneeg and Svetlana's ring are at the main bandit camp.”
Tegan unties the string keeping together her parchment and dips her quill into the small bottle of ink. She writes in practiced strokes with even spacing between each word and line. Hanging letters like ‘j’ and ‘g’ are flourished at the ends in crisp black ink. Tegan’s writing tells the tale of a meticulous bookkeeper, a necessary skill in her father’s shop. She offers the letter to her companions for reading before sealing the fold with a glob of hot wax.
While charting the Green Belt, my companions and I discovered a minefield of traps, cruelly designed for both man and beast. We spent extra care making sure no future travelers will be harmed from such a vicious prank. I am glad to report we found the criminal dead by his own hand not too far away. The fool was killed by his own traps.
Where you aware of The Green Belt’s hot spring? Similarly to the moon radishes I detailed in my second letter, I’m convinced the hot spring with bring a wealth of travelers into the area. I hold out hope that we will be rid of the bandits soon so that people all over Golarion may enjoy the waters.
There are only but a few places left that the bandits can ferret about. I am confident of our success and you needn’t be worried.
Dutifully,
Tegan Ryker
The letter, Tegan thinks, is the perfect excuse to speak with the Lieutenant. “Good work,” Tegan commends in her usual cool tone, “I half expected the place to be burned to the ground.” Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Tegan keeps her head held high: “I’ve written another letter for the Mayor. You can read it if you wish, but please send it off with your other letters.” Tegan hands over the letter. “I think we’ll be heading out again at first light. Is there anything you need or anything we can do for you, Lieutenant Garess?”
Tegan retires early with a nice home cooked meal in her belly and a roof over her head. If the party takes watches, she offers to take last watch.
Seated, Tegan outlines the party’s variously choices in her usual cool tone: “There are two more bounties. Probably Southwest of here. There’s the Sootscale Kobolds and Tatzlwyrm.” Tegan unfurls the map and gestures at possible locations with her index finger. "I suggest we deal with the Sootscale Kobolds next. My sister’s group has yet to return from there. ...I think Falgrim Sneeg and Svetlana's ring are at the main bandit camp.”
"That sounds like a good plan. Lets head west first and then south. That way we can also explore the western area of our lands" replies Damiel to Tegan suggestions.
Rendyl read over Tegan's letter, his brow furrowed as he slowly pored over the characters. After finishing, he had nothing more to add, so passed it along to the others so they could offer their thoughts.
As the icy sorceress suggested the Kobolds to be their next objective, the ranger's eyes lit up, and he quickly murmured his agreement. He was normally a calm, rational man with at least a somewhat soft heart, but he held nothing but contempt for the reptilian creatures.
Rendyl retired early that evening after filling his belly with the fine cooking available at the Trading Post, ready to head out at first light the next day to continue their travels in the Green Belt.
The lieutenant takes the letter but he doesn’t make any attempt to read it. ”No, I thank you for your offer. There’s nothing more that I need at the moment. It’ll be a great help if you can bring Sneeg back alive.”
==/==
Moving down southwest, the exploration is a lot faster and safer when compared to the Narlmarches. Starting from Oleg’s, you then explore the region near Bokkan’s hut, and continue south, you found a spider nest.
This area is the den of a giant trapdoor spider, a black and red brute the size of a pony. The area surrounding the spider’s den is strewn to a radius of nearly 200 feet with the skeletons of boars, deer, bears, and a few humans, but the spider hiding in the center just under the ajar lid to its lair is hard to see, but Damiel and Rendyl manage to spot it, before the spiders have the chance to jump on the charters. From there, a battle happened, but having the advantage of range and magic, the spiders didn’t even pose that much of a threat.
==/==
The exploration continues southwest, and on the evening just before camping the party notice an old lightning-struck oak tree stands atop a low hill at this spot—the only tree in a 2-mile radius, in fact. Approached from the north, the tree looks eerily like a claw reaching for the clouds. In a hollow amid the tree’s roots on the north side, looking around Rendyl notices that a section of earth there has been disturbed.
Digging up the the area takes 10 minutes until the party finds a cache wrapped in a heavy leather cloak which consists of a masterwork dagger, a wand of burning hands (CL 2nd, 4 charges), a silver ring worth 75 gp, and a ritualbook. Unfortunately, rain seeping down into the cache has damaged much of the ritualbook, but three of the rituals (identify, mage armor, and unseen servant) remain intact.
While exploring the area , you come across a thick, sagging rope that still hangs across the river, which is all that remains of a bridge that once spanned over the river. A signpost at either end of the ruined bridge reads “Nettles’ Crossing—5 coppers—ring bell for service.” A rusty bell hangs by each sign. On the south bank of the river, the crumbled remains of a burnt-down wooden building are slowly being overgrown by encroaching vegetation.
Not so long ago, a retired Brevic engineer named Davik Nettles ran a simple but profitable toll bridge across a narrow reach of the Shrike River. He made no judgments on those who chose to use his bridge—as long as they had the coin, be they bandit or trapper, he would allow them to cross the Shrike. As this crossing was the only significant one to be had over the Shrike in the Kamelands, Davik made a fair amount of money for his hard work. This crossing was named: Nettles Crossing.
==/==
Not so long ago, a retired Brevic engineer named Davik Nettles ran a simple but profitable toll bridge across a narrow reach of the Shrike River. He made no judgments on those who chose to use his bridge—as long as they had the coin, be they bandit or trapper, he would allow them to cross the Shrike. As this crossing was the only significant one to be had over the Shrike in the Kamelands, Davik made a fair amount of money for his hard work.
Unfortunately, not long after he finally made enough to recoup the cost of building the rope bridge, the bandit king known as the Bandit Lord rose to power on the north shore of the Tuskwater downriver. When the Bandit Lord paid a visit to the crossing and informed Davik that not only would the men bearing his badge be granted free passage over the bridge, but that Davik would pay the Bandit Lord two-thirds of his monthly take in return for the Bandit Lord’s “protection,” Davik made a foolish error. He not only refused the Bandit Lord’s offer, but ran the bandit and his men off downriver with the aid of his three slavering hounds. After the incident, Davik rewarded himself with a meal of fresh fish and went to bed early. Not surprisingly, the Bandit Lord did not stay away for long.
Later, in the dead of night, the bandits returned. They surrounded Davik’s house and lit the building on fire with flaming arrows. Davik woke in terror as his dogs’ frantic barking alerted him, but as he stumbled out of his burning home and fled for his bridge, the bandits awaited him. More flaming arrows rained down, killing his hounds and wounding Davik. With his nightshirt aflame, the doomed bridge keeper tumbled down the path toward the river. After dousing himself with water, he clambered up to the bridge and tried to escape to the north shore. Unfortunately, the bandits had followed, and as Davik passed the midpoint on his bridge, the Bandit Lord cut one of the ropes that held the bridge intact. The bridge immediately collapsed, plunging the shrieking Davik into the deep, icy water. By the time his body lodged downriver in the debris of his ruined bridge, he had drowned.
At least this is what the history the bard sang one night, in a nameless tavern.
==//==
Tegan points to the lone tree, "the only tree in a two-mile radius. We should take a look. It could be the entrance to a kobold hideout" Tegan brings her hands a few inches apart and focuses. If needed, Tegan will pour water from her flask to freeze. A chuck of flat ice forms between her hands, which she wraps a handkerchief at the "handle" and begins to dig. The crude trowel isn't the best tool for digging, but it keeps her fingernails clean.
~*~*~*~*~
Tegan stares at the signage: “Nettles’ Crossing—5 coppers—ring bell for service.” "Do we... ring the bell? I wish I had my mother's talent." The beautiful elementalist looks sheepishly at her companions, "she could talk to water and the creatures who lived in it." I can't believe I said said that. They probably think I'm crazy. Tegan stares at the water.