Dareon thanks the archon he'd summoned profusely as it fizzles out of existence, and then sighs a great big sigh of relief as the wargs flee, once and for all. They had done it!
He waves a hand, dismissing the pit spell he'd used to save Vors, bringing the raging warrior to the surface immediately.
"Whew. Good job, everyone! Thanks, Bej, I don't know what I woulda done about that warg if it wasn't for you."
"At least we all survived."
Seeing Vors back at ground level, Anastacia hurries over to him and heals his wounds.
With Vors removed from risk of immediate death, the cleric rounds up her horse. (Hopefully he hasn't gone far.)
That deed accomplished, she makes sure that there are no surviving worgs, then channels the power of Pharasma to heal the wounds of herself, and everyone close. Including her warhorse.
Anastacia frowns. "That was weak. holding her holy symbol high, Anastacia intones, more forcefully this time: "Oh Great Pharasma, Goddess of Birth, Our Lady of Graves. Grant your humble servant a taste of your power and glory."
This time the colorless flash has more potency, wiping away the last of Anastacia's wounds.
Looking around at her companions, Anastacia asks. "Anyone still in any pain?"
Just as he begins to try and scale the stone wall it disappears and Vors finds himself on ground level. With blood still flow from his numerous wounds, he immediately draws his blade looking for the next threat.
He growls threatening and walks towards his the others blade raised ready to strike. As Anastacia hurries towards him he struggles and manages to pierce the red gaze before dropping his blade and sinking to the ground.
Looking tired at Anastacia from his place on the ground he smiles and replies: "Not any more thanks to you and your god, but I could do with a good nights rest. How are the rest of you faring?"
Dareon gasps at the success of his spell. His fear had propelled the magic into the warg's brain, and for once it had actually worked. He looks dubiously at Ana as she heals them, and smiles at her. "Good! Well, I mean. I'm well. Thank you."
It looks like the Worgs were using a dug out hole in the ground as a new lair. Some recognize this as being where Wilhelm's group first fought a giant spider on their first day exploring the area.
"We fought an incredibly large spider, last time I was here." Anastacia comments.
She points to the hole. "It came out of there, looks like the worgs are using it as a lair now. We probably should see what's down there this time."
Anastacia finds a small rock to cast her light spell on and tosses it down the hole to provide illumination.
The spider lair is a lot cleaner than the last time Anastacia saw it, and is easier to access. There is the remains of the meal that the worgs were feating one, a half devoured carcasses of a mule and a human. The studded leather the human was wearing is torn to shreds but he has a masterwork staff, healer's kit, 5 potions and a vial of holy water.
Anastacia surveys the carnage, the human in particular. "Anyone else feel like hunting down the rest of those worgs?"
Using detect magic to help her search, Anastacia quickly sees that the potions are magical in nature.
With the spells insight she tries to determine what sorts of potion they are.
Dareon shares the knowledge of what the potions are with his compatriots.
“Potions are a good bunch, useful to keep around for the occasional problem” sentences Bej “But these…” he weighs the horseshoes “These are a mighty fine item. We can use these to further the legend of m’lord Orloswky, now that he’s gone and got himself a shiny new angelic steed.”
“I’m afraid running after those overgrown wolves will end up in a huge waste of time. They got a head start, and might know the forest better. They got both brains and instinct to guide them, the basterds. Let’s just hope they stay scared.”
Anastacia listens to Bej, then replies. "If we hope to have farmers moving in, they will have to be hunted down."
Anastacia surveys the land around through narrowed eyes.
"You are right though, Bej, our time might be better spent in survey for now. I will have to come back to deal with those undead, maybe I'll bring some wolf traps too."
Anastacia looks around to see if there is a suitable campsite. "If that's the case, I would like to rest here, or nearby, for the night. I want to speak with that dead soul, before I cremate him. He may have family that would like to know what happened to him. He at least deserves a marker with his name on it."
Remainder of Pharast 26
You camp a short distance away and there are no encounters of note. Bej and Dareon spend some time going through their spellbooks. The night is pleasant and for the first time you can sleep without blankets.
Pharast 27
"Won't those beast be back?" Vors asks. "Not that we should hunt them now, we'll never catch them, but later, he continues. As they set up camp he walk to Dareon and says: "I am not sure what happened, but I think you saved me, I just can't shake that feeling."
Dareon smiles warmly at Vors, "Men don't let men die of excessive bite wounds. There wasn't much I could do to kill the wargs, so I dropped you down a hole." Dareon scratches his beardless chin while he studies his new spellbook and the soggy, ruined one he'd garnered a few days ago. "Maybe I ought to fix that. It'd be a lot simpler to just take the wargs down, yeah?"
After the battle, Anastacia gathers a pile of fuel in preparation for Matheson's funeral. When the sun sets, she prays for new spells, including the one that allows her to talk to the pilgrim's spirit.
She casts the spell, then carefully places the man's torn body on the pyre. After a short eulogy and prayer to Pharasma, Anastacia lights the fire. The blaze will burn the night long, honoring the life of Matheson and providing a beacon across the prairie.
"I hope they do come back, our business with them is not done."
Is Anastacia's comment on Worgs.
Pharast 27
The weather is nice and it doesn't take long to finish exploring the hex. By that evening you find yourself back at Oleg's, mission accomplished.
Anastacia heads into the bar for a nice glass of red wine and some letter writing. First she writes a letter of condolence to Matheson's family. After that sad work is complete, Anastacia pens a letter to the Abbess. This is a brief progress report.
Dareon, while he's not eating or drinking a big tankard of water, sits at a bench outside the trading post's proper, studying his new spellbook and trying to divine its secrets.
"We do have some unfinished business," Vors remarks as Anastacia is done with the burial and the worgs.
Once back in the safety of Olegs Vors relaxes and enjoys a healthy helping of food and ale. He isn't terrible pleased with the fight and spends some time contemplating how to improve, but ends up doing weapon and strength drills.
Her letter writing finished, Anastacia drops them off with Oleg, to be sent with his courier.
"We you send these off for please, Oleg? Also, I need some empty flasks. For holy water." Anastacia explains.
By the way, Did my order come in?"
The MW cold iron heavy mace I mentioned earlier. (324 gp)
Also spell components: Special marked bones for casting augury (25 gp)
Incense for casting augury 3 doses @ 25gp for a total of 75 gp.
300 gp of reagents for casting Masterwork Transformation.
Oleg is pleased to inform everybody that their orders have indeed come in.
Midway through the day on Pharast 29, Wilhelm's group comes riding in.
The armored Dante rides through the gate at Oleg's, and spies Vors in the clearing doing some drills, as well as Dareon on a bench, nose in a book. With a salute to Rowan, Dante stables Mandarb and walks towards Oleg's.
As he passes Dareon, "Good reading there Dareon?" he asks when he discern a title or author from the book's binding.
Dareon looks up, scratching his hair behind his left ear and smiling at Dante. "Dante! Glad to see you're safe. I suppose you could say it's good...terribly difficult for me to wrap my head around some of these concepts, but still quite a worthwhile text to have salvaged."
Dante laughs, "Well at least you can read that gibberish. Ancient Thassalonian was never a stricly sleeping class for me at academy. How went you expidition?" broadset man asked, clanking down on the bench nest to the scholar.
Dareon laughs at Dante's ignorance, but he appreciates that the older warrior is trying, and doesn't hold his lack of knowledge against him. "Oh, this is no Thassilonian text...merely a salvaged spellbook from a small stash that we found underneath a tree. Cute, isn't it? Almost like primary school over again. That said, our expedition went well enough - we covered plenty of ground. We did encounter a pack of wargs, and Vors nearly fell to them, although we did end up driving them off. Several of them escaped, so we might need to find their lair and end the problem once and for all."
"Not to say, of course, that killing them is the only solution. Wargs are known to be intelligent, so it's certainly possible to negotiate with them."
Dareon closes his book, keeping his place in the tome with a finger, and turns to Dante. "How went yours?"
"It went filled with trolls, giant frogs and a diseased Dire Bear that turned out to be some twice cursed fool that made a deal with this "green lady". We found Breeg dead and spent several days making sure those confounded bear traps weren't spread all over the area. As for Worgs, I could see a mounted unit doing very well on Worgs." Dante looks across the compound at Vors.
"The wildling looks hale now. Anastacia's work no doubt."
"Trolls?"
"I hope you had the sense to sear them with fire upon their death, otherwise your fight may have been in vain. I am glad you came out of it alright, though."
"Yes, Anastacia is a powerful divine vessel...though I'm sure you already knew that. You've known her much longer than I have."
Running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to tame it against the gusting wind, Wilhelm gives up and instead focuses on the approaching fort ahead of him. Quite a bit of hustle and bustle already. I imagine we'll be seeing even more in a few short weeks. Clicking his tongue, he urges Triumph towards the open gate. Waving to the guard on duty, he dismounts gratefully, handing his reins off to a stable-hand with a cheerful nod.
Stripping off his gauntlets, he chuckles as he listens to Dareon's reply, "'Merely a salvaged spellbook', is it Dareon? 'Cute'? I think you sell yourself a little short." He listens with interest to Dareon's tale, grunting as he hears of the danger Vors was in. Another of my council... my friends... nearly dies and I'm unaware of it. I must do better. Gritting his teeth, Wilhelm maintains his silence as he listens to the rest of the tale.
"Trolls indeed. Bandits at that. Rowan was kind enough to inform us that they've a preternatural ability to heal themselves through all sorts of damage. How the one I beheaded would regenerate, I'll admit I'm curious, but we won't be finding out. Rowan's magic burnt them to a crisp. I assume, from the general lack of mayhem, that Sanita and Fhârn have yet to return? Is Iyov still here?"
Rowan smiles as he approaches the familiar fort on horseback. "I've come to miss Svetlana's cooking," he says simply. Looking at all the activity in the area, he makes a note to speak with Wilhelm sometime about getting new construction going for all the new people arriving.
"You are looking well, Dareon. I am glad to see you and the others. I don't think it would be any wiser to negotiate with worgs any more than it would to bargain with bandit trolls." He tells the sitting scholar. "Though I must admit, you have me wondering about the possibility of it now. Maybe if we were to somehow raise them from birth, they might have a chance to do good…"
He shakes the thoughts of redemption away, Better to let Wilhelm think that through he tells himself. "Tonight we should have a feast together to celebrate our good fortunes and share our tales. If you'll excuse me, I shall go see if there is still any game in the area worth hunting. Could someone ask Oleg if his wife would be able to provide her skill in the kitchen for us if I find something?"
"Selling myself short, you say?" says Dareon, an upraised eyebrow and a flickered glance to Rowan and acknowledgement of his greeting. "How do you mean?"
Wilhelm guffaws at Rowan's interjection and asks in mock outrage, "Are you implying, master Rowan, it wasn't wise when I attempted to negotiate with said trolls?"
Still chuckling, he replies to Rowan's question, "Aye, I'll ask Svetlana, though I'm sure she'll be happy to oblige since it means we won't be cleaning out her larders quite so quickly."
Still grinning, he returns his gaze to Dareon and his arched eyebrow. Making a placating gesture, Wilhelm explains, "My apologies, Dareon, I simply meant that you undersell your considerable skill. I assure you, most primary schooling that I've seen doesn't equip even the best educated for unravelling the mystery of the arcane. That's all." Clapping the mage (gently) on the shoulder, Wilhelm smiles at the man. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to speak to Iyov and Oleg, in addition to a few others."
As soon as the group returns to Oleg’s, Bej sees Fortune to the stable. “You’re doing good, boy.” he pats the horse and gives him a carrot. The horse had seen his share of combat and performed quite well, even for a trained steed as he was.
That night, feasting upon Svetlana’s cuisine, Bej approaches Dareon “Say, Dareon.” he has decided to drop the m’lord for his companions. They weren’t in Brevoy anymore. That title was to be reserved to Wilhelm, and perhaps Lanya. “I was wondering if you would be up for a chat during a friendly match, to keep our wits sharp.” he shows Dareon the laid-out chessboard.
If you don’t mind, I’d like to take advantage of your spellbook once again. There’s some fine incantations in there, and they could be useful. In particular, a very good repairing spell.” he talks as he keeps playing.
***
Bej approaches Wilhelm as he is finished speaking with Dareon “M’lord. Nice to see you folks back. I hope you’re quite well rested, ‘cause we have something to discuss… fancy a little game while we talk?” he points to the chessboard. “When you have the time, no rush.”
When they finally sit down to talk, Bej begins “Adventuring is fine and good to clean up the land, but in the end… adventuring is just start-up money. We need to start building infrastructure if we want folks to come in.” he opens with the queen’s pawn “I plan on establishing a fine farming community in the most fertile of plains we can find. Some place for good folks to work the earth and prosper in Erastil’s name.”
“Of course, if you plan on appointing me Warden as you anticipated, we’d need watchtowers and jails. That should be among my duties as well.”
“And then, with Dareon and Fharn and the crazy little lass we plan on building a magical academy. Now, I don’t want to spread myself too thin, and I think many of us here have plans as well. But we should start thinking like a body of rulers rather than individuals and decide what to prioritize. D’you think we should have a meeting about this?” he moves a rook “Check.”
Dareon grins and gladly puts his book away when Bej approaches and asks for a game. The older man sets down his chessboard and the game begins. When Bej asks for a look-see at his spellbook, Dareon readily agrees, adding, "Well, if we're gonna be having our own plans and stuff, and being separate, spell-knowledge is going to be useful when spread around. Of course you can look...but only if I can look at yours."
"Have I talked to you about my library idea?"
The Trading Post is bustling with activity, but all of the visiting nobility are gone, with the lone exception of Becky Pornos. The young gnome has spent the time you were out exploring, hiring some of the local lumberjacks to construct a building, just outside the gates. It isn't finished yet, but whatever she has in mind, it seems the construction is really 'robust'.
Becky is not alone in building outside the gates. A veritable tent city of sorts has come together around the Trading Post and all of the inhabitants seem eager to meet their new nobles. It seems that word of the destruction of the bandits has spread far and wide and Brevoy's disenfranchised and those of pioneering spirit are flocking to the new kingdom.
Kesten has stepped up and has been trying to provide some semblence of law and order, and the storage shed in Oleg's that holds the two bandits has become the de facto jail. Jhod has made a small shrine to Erastil and is attempting to minister to everyone's spiritual needs. Oleg merely smiles and does more buisness in a single hour than he has done in months.
Svetlana welcomes everyone back with a hearty meal and Oleg does inform Wilhelm that the 'Bug Lady' and Fharn have yet to return but everyone's orders have come in.
Anastacia spots Jhod at his shrine. She decides to go visit with the man. Waiting patiently until the priest finishes his service Anastacia finally steps up and offers her hand in greeting.
"Good day, friend. I'm Anastacia Stormwing, cleric of Pharasma for this region. It's good to see you here doing Erastil's work. A benevolent influence such as yours will do this place good. Maybe I'll be able to preside over more births, and less funerals."
A flicker of a smile crosses Anastacia's face. "That would be a good thing."
Jhod nods at Anastacia. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Anastacia. I am Jhod Kavken. Let us hope that the funerals we preside over are few in number. If there is anything I can do to help you or your church it would be my genuine pleasure to do so."
"Ah, the pleasure is mine Jhod. I look forward to working with you in the future. We can accomplish much if we work together. So, let me know if there is anything that I can do for you as well."
Anastacia surveys the bustling scene around Oleg's.
"I plan on having a temple here soon. A temple to most of the gods. I would be greatly honored, if you would move your shrine of Erastil, to that temple, once it is built. I don't expect to spend much of my time here, there is much to do; so the day to day running of the temple would fall on you."
Walking towards the tavern hall, Wilhelm sees Bej approaching and stops to extend a hand, "Much thanks, Bej. The last few days didn't involve much in the way of fighting, so I think I'll manage. I'd be glad to give you a game and my ear. Let me find Svetlana and Iyov and I'll join you." With a nod, Wilhelm strides into the hall, casting around for the signs of the ambassador. A quick check with Oleg confirms that he's still gone to New Stetvan. The man's probably getting an earful from the Regent Surtova. I can't say I envy him.
Sighing in frustration, Wilhelm wanders into the kitchen in hopes of catching Svetlana. Once he finds her, he informs her of Rowan's intention, "Good day, Svetlana. Rowan requested that I let you know that he's out hunting and he'll be doing his best to bring enough for our band to eat. He does ask your assistance with the cooking though. It seemed implied that he normally manages to burn water, so it may be well if you'd help him out." Wilhelm lingers for a moment to make small talk before excusing himself politely.
Making his way back to Bej, Wilhelm takes a seat opposing the arcanist and nods in greeting. As he listens to the arguments laid before him, Wilhelm plays the king's knight into the center, followed by the king's pawn and last the king's bishop. After completing a kingside castle, however, the general strategy of defense that he'd cultivated fell apart as he moved too aggressively to try and seize white pieces. "What you're saying makes sense, Bej. With as short a growing season as we have up here, we'll need to start establishing farms as soon as is feasible lest we not have enough stockpiles for winter."
Pausing to think a moment about the state of the board, he continues, "I still believe you'd make an accomplished warden, but I think there's a lot be said for building a garrison before we start into the jails. Without a guard and police force, I don't see how we mean to properly run a jail in any case." Wilhelm frowns in frustration as he realizes he'd given up positioning of his bishop for an inconsequential pawn.
As Bej makes his last point, Wilhelm looks at the board, mouth twisted in frustration as he tries to recover his overextended position, "A meeting once all have returned is, indeed, in order. If things have picked up as quickly as this, then I daresay we'll be seeing the crowds sooner rather then later. Without some semblance of a plan, we'll be scrambling from one fire to the next." His brow furrowing as he looks at his few remaining pieces, Wilhelm chuckles and taps the king over gently. "I believe you have me inside two moves. Well played, master Vanskian"
Jhod agrees with Anastacia. "If you feel led to construct and temple, I will certainly help in any small way that I can. But, truth be told, I feel that Erastil is leading me to somewhere other than here. There is a lost shrine to Erastil somewhere in the Greenbelt, I'm sure of it."
Svetlana greets Wilhelm with a smile. "Well lets hope Master Rowan is quick about it then. She hastily adds "My Liege." as she realizes she might have been too curt.
Making a placating gesture, Wilhelm smiles disarmingly and replies, "Knowing Rowan, he's probably already found a fine doe somewhere out there and is already bringing it back. If it's alright, you can simply address me as..." Wilhelm pauses a moment as he recollects Bej's advice. Maintaining his smile so as not to alarm the woman, Wilhelm continues, "... well, I suppose My Liege works well enough. Alternatively, I'd be fine with Lord Wilhelm or Baron Wilhelm. But enough about titles, have things been well here since we've been gone? It seems to have gotten much busier."
Still maintaining a smile, Wilhelm waits for her reply. It seems my father has won the last laugh in that particular match. I suppose it's necessary, but it still leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Dante takes his leave of Dareon with a clap to the man's back. Walking through the growing bustle, he makes his way to the shrine and spots Jhod and Anastacia.
With a curt bow, "Lady, Anastacia." he nods before turning to Jhod. "Not to innterupt, but I've found your shrine priest. A day or so from here, a large stag head rock, home to a cursed man in the shape of a Dire Bear, he's dead now. It's in a secluded grove, pretty place."
"Lord Skyborn." Anastacia curtsies.
Anastacia listens to what Dante has to say. "So things went well? No one died? That's a relief. We almost lost Vors, except for Dareon's quick thinking."
Then Anastacia speaks to Jhod. "It sounds like you will be leaving us then. Take some soldiers with you though, these lands are far from tamed."
"Almost lost Vors eh?" Dante chuckles softly. "Not to surprised, that boy fights like a wild animal. All turned out for the good it seems though." he stands thoughtfully for a moment. "You find yourself well on this day?" he asks, feeling out the fiery cleric's temperment.
Svetlana seems continues to talk as she starts peeling and cutting some potatoes. "Busy! I'll say. People have been pouring in here. And mark my words. Some of them are not far removed from the bandits we just got rid of. There's gambling going on out there, not wholesome games, but betting on dice. Might as well piss away your money." She continues to talk, expressing her opinion on everything that catches her interest.
Jhod jerks to attention at Dante's remark. "You found it! How wonderful! You must show me where it is. It is a glade, watched over by Erastil is it not?"
"Yes, well."
"Spring is in the air and potential is everywhere. It's a good time to be alive."
This pronouncement is made in cool measured tones. Clerics of Pharasma school themselves to be stoic in demeanor.
"And how goes the army building, Sir Dante?"
Shortly before entering, the sound of a man jogging towards Oleg's Trading Post can be heard, with the rhythmic clanging of a pack of assorted possessions bouncing away in time with the runner. The pace of the sound slows as it approaches the interior. Stepping inside, a man enters with sweat beading down his forehead, his breathing heavy, but steady and unragged, exerted, but not exhausted. The human man blinks repeatedly, obviously trying to quicken his eyes adjustment to the darker interior compared to the bright outdoors as his breathing continues heavily.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, the man seems to take care not to disrupt his tightly pulled back hair, dipping to avoid the widow's peak as his hand moves across. Taking a waterskin that hung by a bandolier at his side to his lips, he takes a moment to drink, finishing it with a satisfied sigh.
Looking around the post, Roan approaches Svetlana and presses two silver coins towards her. "Something strong to drink, and a bath if you have it available." Then, looking towards Wilhelm, Roan asks. "I'm looking for the Lord Baron Wilhelm Orlovsky, do you know where his personal domain lies from here?" Roan shifts to holding his heirloom weapon in the crook of his shoulder as he seems to settle in for lengthy directions.
"Ah ha yes, slowly I'm afraid. I've sent letters to both the academy in the capitol and my family at Port Ice requesting promising recruits and additional troops, but I've yet to hear back. I see that Oleg's is quite a bit more populated then last I was here. Perhaps I'll see if there are any able bodied interested in being soldiers. We've no enemies launching campaigns against us yet, thankfully. If I've nothing but farmers and settlers to start with, it will take at least a full year of training until they're a right proper force."