Four of the barrels are full of flour, one of cornmeal, another apples, another of salted fish. The final barrel is full of iron nails. The shelf holds a small bag of rice, a small pouch the size of a thumb has peppercorns in it, a glass jar with honeycomb and honey and a jar of pickled carrots.
The only thing that seems out of the ordinary is the large wooden wall covering the filled in corridor. The wooden construction hasn't shifted from where you placed it last night. It still stands against the wall, held vertical by two of the flour filled barrels.
"If we can wrangle it, I say we take some of these barrels with us. We can sell them for cash, or trade for other goods." Mathieu makes his way over to the wall. "I wonder why they filled it in and boarded it up?"
Heading over to the shelf, Quillin begins fidgeting with it. ...swear I saw a hidden panel in here somewhere...
Yergie brings the boy back in to the building, in order to help with the investigation.
As Mathieu looks at the wooden wall, pondering its purpose, Quillin fiddles away at the shelf, the jars making little clinking sounds as he moves them around.
There is a sharp click, causing Mathieu to start from his reverie and turn around to look at what Quillin is doing.
"Bloody...", says Quillin, a quaver of pain in his voice. He turns around to face Mathieu, eyes glazing with shock, and it is suddenly obvious that the foot long arrow impaled in his arm is causing significant distress.
"I think it was trapped.." Behind him a panel swings open on the shelves, revealing a bag, scrolls and bottles.
Mathieu quickly finds himself beside Quillin. He carefully removes the arrow and begins to wrap the wound. "Silly gnome, don't you know that is Seamus' job?" Glancing at the loot in the hidden room, Mathieu whistles, "Wow, you were right though. There is definitely a hidden stash here." Mathieu gives Quillin his best charm smile.
Sons of the goat end of a chimera! I should have left the opening to Seamus. Quick, someone help me. I feel everything getting dark... Quillin looks quite pale as he dramatically slumps to the floor.
Smudge calls out, Medic!
Despite his pain, Quillin sits up quite quickly to check out the swag. Turning to Mathieu he asks, Would you mind doing a kindness for a poor dying gnome, Mathieu, and help me with this arrow?
...and with his good hand makes a little gesture over his eyes with the appropriate command and takes a closer look.
Detect magic.
Walter sarcastically says
" Quillin I could have shot that arrow at a bandit but now its no good if seamus removed it from the trap. Those are some nice items. "
Mathieu cleans Quillin's wound. He then pulls out his silver pendant of Pharasma and while saying a prayer to the Lady of Graves, touches Quillin's wound with the pendant.
Cure Light Wounds:
Getting to the bottom of the stairs just in time to see Quillin fooling around with a panel, Seamus starts to call out to his friend"Wai...crud.", he finishes as the arrow spins the gnome a half turn toward him.Seeing that Mathiue is quickly tending the wound and the gnome is being a bit melodramatic, he continues,"I know it was taking a minute to get down here, Quillin, but I thought you'd 've waited for me to at least give it a lookin' over after the last thing they had trapped." Tiliting his head to the side and furrowing his brow,"Are you going to survive?",he ask in an overly concerned voice that drips of sarcastic humor. To be safe, Seamus gives the area a search for anymore possible traps and hidden doors.
Quillin squeaks quite loudly and looks ready to pass out as the arrow is removed from his arm. He is genuinely relieved after Mathieu heals the wound. He looks a little indignant at Walter and Seamus' remarks, but shrugs, "I got a little ahead of myself."
Smudge judiciously flaps over to a safe corner of the room as Quillin begins poking into the panel again, after letting Seamus give a quick once over, of course.
Wand of Cause Fear (47 charges)
#3) Scroll of Summon Monster 2
Feather token, whip
#1) Potion of Feather Fall
#2) Potion of restoration, lesser
Quillin clucks over the stash as he lifts each item and peers at it from several different angles. "Hmmm, this wand of pale willow heartwood has a necromantic aura. I didn't delve too deeply into that field of study, but I believe Mathieu could use it to send most creatures running in fear. This feather token will become a monstrous whip in times of need. I do have a fondness for magical feathers. I could only figure out one of the scrolls- it summons an ally from distant planes. It would be a nice addition to my spellbook. I don't know what the other scrolls are. Perhaps they are more divine focused and Mathieu might be able to recognize them. Finally, this is a potion to slow your fall and this potion will magically restore a fatigued, weakened, or otherwise disabled person. The third potion I don't recognize.
"I did not pray for a spell that would allow me to read the scrolls. Perhaps tomorrow. As for now, should we dig a little out of the wall and see what's buried? Or should we be on our way?"
"I believe a wise gnome once asked, 'Why quit when we're ahead?'" Quillin says with a wink. "If you want to give Seamus and myself a boost, we can check if this excavation goes anywhere."
Quillin will send a pair of dancing lights into the hole and peer in with his low-light vision, but he'll wait for Seamus this time so he doesn't get himself impaled again.
Perception
"I'm ready when you are, good buddy. I've grown pretty found of your cantankerous ways. If a couple of you tall ones could be so helpful as to the barrels out of the way for us, I'll do my thing and two of us can slip through the hole."
Walter hearing Seamus' request says "I can get these barrels out of the way. Be careful down there there may be more things trapped." Walter then begins carrying the barrels up the stairs.
As Walter begins lugging the heavy barrels upstairs and out to the wagon, the blonde warrior, priest, halfling and gnome begin to investigate the mysterious passageway.
Seamus searches the entranceway thoroughly, peering sideways at the walls, inspecting for any deviation of contour or material, deeply suspicious after the experience of the trapped chest and shelves.
The pale blue glow of the dancing lights vanish down the corridor through the gap at the top. There is obviously plenty of space beyond the gap, as the lights go far enough that you cannot see their light anymore. Quillin attempts to climb the earthen pile to look through the gap, but only manages to scramble for a moment before he slides back down spilling loose earth back down into the room. The gap at the top is tantalizingly close, yet the earth will not support his ascension.
"Bloody Bones! and I just cleaned myself up!" Quillin exclaims as he dusts himself off again.
He addresses the group, "Do you think we can brace the dirt with the barrels or are we going to have to dig the tunnel out? Either way this might take a while and we did promise to get the boy back quickly. If we left we could pick up more supplies, but we might have to wrest the fort back from bandits again. What's your predilection?"
Perhaps we could take a sheet from the bed and write the word "Plague" with a big skull pictogram on it. If we drape it across the entrance to the fort, it may keep out the curious or returning bandits until we return.
Walter smiles and says "Yergie that is a great idea!"
"If there is a trap on this door, it placed by someone with skills beyond those of most mortals. If we need to get through this joker, it should at least be safe enough on this side of things."
Adding to his thoughts on the blocked entrance,"If you want to lift one of us small folk up to peer inside before leaving, then let's do it. But, I feel it would be wise to return the lad to his people as soon as possible and he doesn't need to see any of falling to Desna knows what inside that vault."
Mathieu will give Seamus a boost to peak inside the tunnel. "We definitely have gotten off track. Treasure will do that and the promise of more. I can add Pharasma's symbol to the sheet. It may help to scare others into staying away. Besides, as far as we know, that is why this tunnel is blocked."
Walter smiles and says "Yergie that is a great idea!"
"Aye! An idea worthy of a gnome", Quillin chuckles. "You're sure you have no gnome blood in you?"
Quillin helps Seamus by refreshing his dancing lights if needed, then collects Smudge and heads up to the kitchen to collect some food for the trip.
Ah Quillin, there might be some gnome blood mixed in with the feasting wines back at home... Yergie says with a smirk and a wink.
Quillin waits for the rest of the party upstairs. "Don't forget to grab that bottle of wine when you bring the loot", he calls down.
Once he gets the food safely loaded in the wagon, he grabs a sheet off the bed for Yergenflorn's 'plague' warning. "Hmmm, my ink is back with my writing set, but perhaps we can use some charcoal from the fireplace to write our warning".
While everyone gets ready Quillin sits in the wagon and inspects the bottle of wine found with the rest of the treasure.
Appraise
Mathieu searches through the goods left in the basement and the kitchen for something sweet for the boy on the trip. He also fills his backpack as best he can with fresh foods for the road. Before finally climbing on a wagon, he adds a symbol of Pharasma to help indicate the seriousness of the plague.
"Well Quillin? Should we get going? There is an uncle that would like to see his nephew safe and sound." Mathieu pulls out the jar of pickled carrots. Offering one to Quillin, "Want one?" He says with a big grin on his face.
"Well Quillin? Should we get going? There is an uncle that would like to see his nephew safe and sound." Mathieu pulls out the jar of pickled carrots. Offering one to Quillin, "Want one?"
"I never met a pickle I didn't like." Quillin chuckles. He nibbles discriminatingly. "My old ma used to grow the fattest carrots in Brestlewerk. Fortunately our plot was in town or I think I would have been constantly berating avaricious rabbits", he reminisces.
As Yergenflorn gets on the wagon, Quillin hides the wine and gives her a stern look. "What a thing to say", he mutters and addresses the rest more loudly,"Well, kids if we make good time, perhaps we won't have to sleep outdoors tonight."Using speak with animals he nickers to the horses
Smudge calls out, "All aboard!"
Walter climbs on the wagon and says to quillin "I remember hunting rabbits as a child. I ate a lot of rabbits during those years..."
Walter then sighs sitting half laying down on the back of the wagon and turns his head to the sky and wants to try to predict the weather again. to see if anything is coming.
Yergie's smile widens, showing slightly elongated canines. You'd think we actually eat gnomes by your reaction! Pity you don't recognize a compliment when you hear one; gnome's blood is a nickname for a rather potent liqueur made from a brine of sea salt and cod. We give it the name because, like someone drunk on it, you never know what a gnome will do next. Yergie reclines in the wagon, with the boy under her arm.
I ate a lot of rabbits during those years...
Quillin smiles, "Aye, roast rabbit. Mmm, is it too early for lunch?"
gnome's blood is a nickname for a rather potent liqueur made from a brine of sea salt and cod.
Quillin blanches, "Asmodeus' arse! that's even more disgusting! I imagine that concoction might cause you to act a little erratically!"
Quillin concentrates for a moment and a ghost sound chorus of vomiting sounds surrounds the wagon. Quillin grins and winks at the boy.
Walter semi sarcastically says "But the monsters may like the vommiting thinking they have a sick beast and an easy kill."
Bounding out the house singing an off color Halfling drinking song about the joys of being short man in a dress shop, Seamus almost glides into the seat next to Mathieu, displaying his cat-like grace. Giving the brim of his hat a flick with one nimble, little fingers, the rogue pops his pipe from his mouth with a grin that nearly swallows his head and says,"Tis' a same that such work must go hand in hand with tragedy, Mat. I do so love what I do.", his face becoming somewhat comtemplative for a moment before returning to the chipper dispostion displayed before.
"Ya know, I've been giving our conversation we 'ad in the basement last night a quite a bit of thought and came to some conclusions." Pulling the cork from an opaque, blue glass bottle he sniffs the contents and smiles. "Dwarven barley wine.",he half mumbles in somewhat detached from the present by the fine memories the sweet scent illicits. "Found it in the kitchen on the way out.", he continues shaking his head and returning to the current conversation. "As I was saying. I think that you and I have a lot more in common than might be readily apparent." Retrieving a tin cup from the side of his pack and filling it with a measure of his beloved elixer, he continues,"It may seem I go to extremes when it comes to the scoundrels we been dealing with, but that Lady of the Graves ah your's is also the mistress of death and fate, no? Well, I just happen to be workin' for 'er on that end of the business. They chose their path and fate brought me to collect on a debt owed for that choice."
"I don't want ya to think I like to kill when the need is lacking, but when it needs to be done it is going to be done.", a tone of finality in his voice trails off as he takes a sip from his cup. Casting a glance toward the boy, he adds,"Boy needed this taken care for him 'fore he grew up with a twisted heart filled with pain and rage. Maybe now he'll have chance to reconcile them inner demons before they shape who he becomes." With that, Seamus smiles to his friend raising tin cup and taking a puff from his pipe."To better days, Mat,to better days..."
The mid-morning sun shines out of a clear blue sky. A slow steady breeze adds a bit of a chill to the air as it undulates the leafy treetops, nature’s reminder that the harvest season is coming, and winter is not far behind. The wagon creaks along the path that you followed the previous day, bumping along over small roots and the terrain, the horses plodding steadily back to the road.
The boy though excited at first, quickly found a place to settle down and has fallen asleep again, lulled by the steady motion of the wagon. Birds fly in the trees, singing their joyful songs, but you do not see any larger animal life.
As you travel, you are amazed at the things that you missed in your pursuit through the darkness: a large deadfall of piled trees a short distance off of the track that almost resembled a face as you passed it and the ruins of a small homestead, half walls and a few vertical timbers the only remains of a family’s life.
Some hours pass and it is mid-afternoon before you reach the main road.
Walter seems to enjoy the wagon ride and that it has passed without any big crises. Walter says "At least these birds sound better than Quillin's spell. " Then walter takes a large sigh and lets listens to the sounds of the birds seeing if they will reveal any problems.
Awakened from his peaceful enjoyment of the sights and sounds of the forest by Water's comments, Quillin blows Walter a raspberry and returns to enjoying the view.
He grins as the wagon returns to the main track. "Ah, lead on brave Equines most dray! You're homeward bound and must know the way. With any luck we'll all be home before the end of the day!" He pauses and licks his lips as if savoring a though. "Say Mathieu, you wouldn't happen to have a few more of those pickled carrots do you?"
Mathieu takes the bottle from Seamus, "To better days, Seamus." And takes a swig. With a shiver, Mathieu sets the bottle back down and pulls out the jar of pickled carrots. "Of course Quillin. There are a few left. But don't eat too much. I don't want to have to put together a recipe to take care of that problem." Mathieu smiles, opens the jar, and tosses one to Quillin. He takes one for himself and offers up another to anyone who wants it.
"Hopefully, Pharasma smiles on us today, and grants us a peaceful day of travel all the way to the fort." Mathieu says a short prayer to the Lady of Graves, asking for fate to clear their path before them, so they may have safe travels.
The forest falls away from the wagon and the wagon is once more out on the verdant grasslands. Gently waving grasses as tall as the sideboards replace the tall trees and like a ship, alone on an empty green sea, the wagon creaks forward.
You begin to see clusters of farmsteads off in the distance, small farming villages surrounded by fields. The track gets wider and much more used and every so often you pass small wagon trails that head off toward the villages on the horizon.
A few hours pass before a watchtower pierces the horizon ahead, a single finger above the rolling hills, the fort itself hidden in the undulations. A flag flies proudly above the tower.
Uniformed riders crest the rise before you and ride down the track toward the wagon. As they get closer it becomes immediately obvious that they are soldiers, and professional soldiers at that. Uniforms are clean, the tips of their upright lances shine, and they carry themselves with an obvious pride. They reign up before you in a line, six well-armed warriors, blocking the path of the wagon. You can see that they are all wearing light armor covered by a tabard. They are all wearing an insignia of a sword on red and blue triangles with white lines crossing from corner to opposite corner. The obvious leader wears an additional blue sash across his chest.
He rides forward with the easy grace of much time spent in the saddle, a rakishly handsome, almost regal man of dark hair and eyes.
"As you are far too scruffy to be merchants and too dangerous looking to be bandits or mercenaries, you must be the rescuers that I have heard so much about.", he says, a bit of humor in his voice. "And I am guessing the boy who is poking his head up from the wagon is the missing child as well." At this he breaks into a broad grin and the soldiers seem to visibly relax as well. "I am Captain Nale Dantelleon, currently the master of Westwatch. Why don't we talk as we ride? I think that I would like for you to reunite the boy with his family." Then, almost as an afterthought, " And welcome to Gralton."
Capt Dantelleon makes a quick set of hand motions, and three of the riders move past the wagon to take up station behind as the wagon creaks forward once more. The Captain rides beside the wagon, the last two riders move up the trail and over the hill ahead.
Walter pauses for a moment and looks around then says "Yes we are the rescuerers of this lost child. And yes his family will be happy to see him." Walter then sits up a little bit straighter in the wagon after he was slouching for most of the ride.
"Scruffy?! Well, I don't know about that, but we are most certainly dangerous. I suppose one might gain the descriptor 'scruffy' at least after a long night engaged in mortal combat with a fortress of three score blood-thirsty bandits! Through great peril to ourselves we have persevered against unimaginable circumstances and misfortunes to return this poor lost waif. We ask nothing in return, but will suffer any titles, honors, and riches you deem it necessary to bestow upon us!"
In his passion, Quillin stands up in the wagon until a random wobble knocks him back into the piled equipment. A displaced Smudge squawks and flaps over to perch on the draft horses' harness where it croaks, "Pipe down, Shorty!"
Quillin grins sheepishly. "Um, name's Quillin Inkpot, by the way and that's Smudge. Glad to meet you Captain Dantelleon."
Walter stares at Quillin for a moment and then looks back to Captian Dantelleon and mumbles "Sorry for not introducing myself, I am Walter Orlin." Walter then looks back at Quillin and lets out a small quiet laugh and says "Be glad you were not closer to the edge or else you might have fallen off and humiliated yourself."
You may call me Yergie, Master Dandelion. Yergie says with a wink.
"Great Desna! Three score bandits you say?!", the Captain says in a tone of shock. "That was the entire quota of bandits for the year! The supply of bandits has been mighty low recently, and you had to go and decimate the breeding stock! My men and I had so looked forward to hunting bandits this winter, now what are we supposed to do in the cold winter nights?"
Feeling a little warm from the draught that the halfling had confiscated from the cabin, Mathieu had been quiet up till now. "Well met Captain. I am Mathieu Rordene, servant to the Lady of Graves. The parrot exaggerates, it wasn't three score. We left a couple for you to track down and capture to help meet your quota. And if you can't find a good woman to show you what to do on those cold winter nights, then you need this...Mathieu holds up Seamus' now near empty bottle...more than I do."
"Easy now, Matty.", Seamus says almost under his breath as he eases the bottle from the cleric's hand before he becomes to generous with the rare beverage. Corking the bottle and placing it back in his pack, the well traveled halfling takes in the view and their new traveling companions. "Captain, would there be anything of a Halfling population in Gralton? There are some items I amin need of that may only be had from such a grouping of the small folk."
"Upon arriving in your city, sir,I might like to have a word in private with you."
"A hit, and I am deeply wounded, perhaps to death by a servant of the Lady.", the Captain weaves a bit in his saddle, clutching his chest. A few of the men smile at the jape.
"I am sad to inform you that the world is a large place, my good Halfling. You are still some distance from the city proper, perhaps a day or so more, if you travel by wagon. You will have to settle on only partaking of the pleasure of my company and table for the evening. I am not going on to the city...our post is here at Westfort. We must stay and ensure the safety of the farms and villages from the border to the town of Shaver.", he rides for a moment in silence.
"We also have business to attend to before you continue on into Gralton. We must deal with a matter of justice, discuss what took place with the bandits that you mentioned, return the boy to his family, and finally, if you are to travel as a group in Gralton, you must register your company.", then he grins, almost boyishly. "And then because I cannot seem to keep a woman, we must do as the good cleric has instructed, and seek for our religion in the cups."