The Blades run forward to claim the bodies of their comrades and the belongings of Breddaric and the others. The oldest Blade looks at Murob suspiciously. "Even if we believe that it wasn't you that killed them, green-skin," he says savagely, "I don't see any reason to help you on some ploy for heroism when there's plenty of regular-person's work to be done here."
"I don't see any reason to help you on some ploy for heroism when there's plenty of regular-person's work to be done here."
"Fine, we don't need your help anyway. You go and do your 'regular-person work' and we'll go look out for the colonists."
The Blade crosses his arms. "And I suppose you'll be wanting to go lose our only way to travel, right?" he says, stamping his feet on the deck.
"You are assuming that we will fail. Tell me then, are those colonists already lost to you in your mind? For we believe that we can get them back, possibly without having to shed blood. I am not trying to put you in a corner by saying this, but the people of First Landing will look at you whenever the names of these lost colonists will be mentioned, for it is you who is denying First Landing the chance to free them. Please, let us cooperate, for we all want the same, truly.
"
And, as if to throw the man a stick to beat them with, in case things go wrong, Ehiz adds,"If we somehow fail, which is something I deem to be impossible, you can always say with truth in your words that you opposed our desire to use this one vessel to try and free the colonists."
Ehiz hated this, putting someone on the spot and goading him to cooperate through threatening his pride and standing in the community, but kind words had been tried already.
"Bah," curses the man, before he turns to his fellow Blades. "If they want to take the ship and go kill themselves on some stupid attempt at heroism, I say we let them." He shrugs. "I'm sure someone else will be along with more ships and more people before we need a ship again."
The men grumble and mumble, but overall agree that, now they can get started on construction again, they don't necessarily need the ship, and yes they really would like to get back to homesteading, and hey, if the group could bring back the rest of the colonists, isn't that worth the risk?
Murob sighs. They had the ship, at least, but for once she would have liked to get a bit more help from the rest of the colonists. Now they just needed a crew. She starts asking around, trying to find people able and willing to sail the ship and hopefully fight with them, should it come to that.
She also checks on their gillman "guest", seeing if he has been further mistreated and trying to make him as comfortable as possible.
Sulan shrugs. "Well, at least they won't be in the way. They whine too much anyway."
"I can use magic to breathe water if necessary, but I can't do that for everyone. I could also prepare a spell that will make the wind more favourable. But those will need to wait until tomorrow."
"I am sorry for the hardships that you have endured. If you are still willing to show us the way, my friends and I will take this ship and go to your people. We hope to reach a peaceful accord with them and free our compatriots. There is no reason for our two people to live in hostility towards one another. We can coexist, perhaps even help each other." Murob gives the gillman food, of course, and brings buckets of saltwater to pour on his skin, at the same time treating any wounds or contusions that he might still have.
"Hrm, you make a good point, Sulan. I'll have to contemplate on what blessings I can ask of Erastil that might help us during our times ... at sea, I suppose?"
The gillman, not understanding Murob's words but understanding her tone, merely grunts. He spends a couple of minutes stuffing his face, and then splashes himself with water all over.
As the dust settles from the latest stressor and the group prepares for their next venture, there is a cry from the beach. Looking out into the bay, a small makeshift craft can be seen approaching the settlement. Definitely not a landing party, as it's barely large enough for the two people clinging to it. When it gets close enough to safely swim, a few people swim out to it and help pull it back to shore, where one of the people - a haggard and hungry-looking man with shaggy brown hair and threadbare clothing, a week's stubble and fresh whip wounds on his back, staggers onto the sand. At the sight of other humans, he begins to cry. "I made it..." he mutters.
A few minutes after the survivors are beached Victor arrives on the scene carrying two bowls of soup in his hands. His clothing appears spotless and unmarred as always as if even the beach sand can't cling to it as he kneels down and hands the bowls to the haggard looking castaways. "I got here as quick as i could carrying these, here, you'll need to dry off." he continues, pulling a pair of blankets from the pack on his back and handing one to each.
He then takes a moment to look each of the two over, trying to assess their wounds with his limited expertise, but not being able to make much sense short of what is immediately visible.
Victor can't at all tell how bad the injuries are, but both men have whip wounds. One of them is unconscious and is still on the makeshift raft, though a few settlers have turned him over and are trying to rouse him.
The other sits up and gratefully accepts the soup from Victor. His voice is weak, though he mutters, "Thank you,"
"I thought we were going to die... Where are we?"
”You’re welcome, hopefully you’ll be mostly fine now. You are lucky, washed right up on the shore of First Landing, the original colony site.” Victor explains as he pulls a pair of small strawberries from a pocket at his waist ”Here, this should help you regain your strength. Eat this then the soup.” He says as he hands one strawberry to the man.
Victor then walks over to the group trying to rouse the other castaway and sets the bowl of soup to the side as he says ”Okay, someone help me here. We need to get them to swallow this” He says as he holds the second strawberry up for them to see.
A few of the settlers prop the unconscious man up and open his mouth.
The first man nibbles on the berry, gasping with surprise as he feels energy return. "Good, we made it," he says, his voice stronger. "Please, we risked everything to come here. I'm glad there are people here, but you have to come with me to help the others."
Victor takes the second berry and crushes it in the palm of his hand, given it is a rather soft fruit, then scrapes the pulp off his hand into the unconscious man’s mouth. ”That should keep him from starving, see if you can use that board of theirs to bring him into the village, now” Victor wipes his hand on his already red shirt as he turns back to the first man ”What was that about others? What happened exactly?” he asks as he walks back to the first man.
"The storm..." the guy mutters...
The settlers help bring the unconscious man into one of the few wooden buildings that have been set up right now. The people sheltering inside vacate to make room for the two refugees.
The conscious one starts to tell his story: "I was on the Odyssey," he says, "The largest ship. The storm messed with us the same as everyone else, but our engines kept us afloat... but then we had fish-men climbing up onto the deck during the storm. We couldn't fight back properly, and after we lost, the gillman took us to... an island nearby. They said it was called Corinth, and on the island is an old, half-submerged city where they live. They took all the survivors as slaves, and added them to hundreds that already live there."
"Me - uh, I'm Stefon, and Grim there barely got away. Some of our buddies caused a distraction, and we fled the city into the inner jungle. We spent a day making that shitty raft and we just floated away. Lost the oar an hour ago, thought we were just gonna float away and die. Thank the Song of Spheres that we made it to the right area."
Murob comes running at the news of more people washing up on the shore, her medicine kit held tightly as she approaches the group that has gathered around the castaways. She sighs in relief as she sees the care already being administered. "Oh, they're alive, thank the heavens. Here, let me take a look." She starts by examining the unconscious man, first because that seems to be the medical priority, second - to give the other some time to get used to the idea of a half-orc tending to wounds rather than making them.
The man on the ground looks like he's suffering from starvation, exhaustion, dehydration as well as a beating . He should be fine in a day or so, given the appropriate opportunity to rest as well as adequate food and water. He seems to have been whipped bloody. Both of them have. His friend is likely only conscious because of a stronger constitution.
Victor stands by, watching intently as the half-orc woman tends to the two men's wounds. Might be useful to know for later if i can figure out how she is finding these maladies... he thought to himself as he sat down and just watched.
"You're all right now," Sulan says gruffly.
"Do you remember what bearing the island you came from was? And what can you tell us about the city?"
"Tsk. These people are suffering from exposure, and have been beaten as well. Let them rest and recover first." Murob gives Sulan a quelling look as she fusses over the two survivors. She understands the need for intelligence, but these people are exhausted and in shock, so their answers will be muddled at best. She offers her waterskin to the conscious man.
"There is some food in the colony, and places for your to rest. Take it easy, there will be time to talk later. Now your job is to get back on your feet." She smiles encouragingly at him, careful to not show her tusks.
Ehiz calls upon the blessing of Erastil and touches the conscious man. "Here, let a friend of the Lady of the Spheres give you sustenance for your body isn't in the best of places."
He then turns around to his comrades and muses his thoughts out loud. "Corinth, huh? And hundreds of slaves? Gods above, perhaps we ought to rethink our plan and give it a bit more finesse before we see it through ..."
”Were you planning to go to this... Corinth already?” Victor speaks up, having been watching these three from the sidelines ”I should think I would like to come with you. I won’t just idly stand by while our people suffer.” he finishes, though his appearance casts doubt on how useful he could be.
The farmer priest nods at Victor. "Aye, though we knew not its name nor the numbers of slave we'd encounter there. Five, ten, fifty? Sure, but hundreds? No, I would have never expected such numbers. Perhaps, and I mean no offense, these numbers are the result of separation and exaggeration, but regardless of the actual number we can safely assume that there are many people needing and deserving of rescue."
Somewhat nervously, as the thought of how to feed such a population strikes him, Ehiz eyes their surroundings. No way First Landing could deal with such an influx right now. It is a truth he isn't comfortable with.
Calming Touch x2: 2d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 2) + 6 = 14
"I am not sure the numbers matter. But we might also pillage supplies from this city. These people are struggling, and anything we can get would help."
Ehiz's calming touch wakes up the second shipwreck survivor, who sputters awake gasping. The first man says, "I could probably lead you to the island." He looks at Sulan. "I'm sorry, I don't know too much about it. I was only there for a short time, and didn't see very much."
"Um, there's lots of ogres, though. They were the guards. And... hmm... there was a large farm that slaves worked on. And... uhh... I remember trained sharks in the water. The buildings were old, and stone. Slaves were generally given free reign, though."
Mogwai, the goblin who found you in the forest a day ago (inarticulate and clawed, but really quite kind and a Sarenrite) talks about the people who are volunteering to go. Good people, he says. Not enough to take on many slavers though, probably..
"So, ogres. Trained sharks. A farming estate. You'd imagine that if we were to attack them, they'd come looking for their lost slaves and the insolent few who helped them escape. Do we want to paint such a target on First Landing's back? Yet, if we don't, they might find and hear of us eventually and decide to strike first. I feel it's a damned if you do, damned if you don't type of situation."
Yosiah shows himself, leaning against the doorway of the small shack. "I know of these gill-men. Degasi Navy has been avoiding dealing with them for a long time. It is big shame to our people," he says. "They capture traders, and sailors, and travelers and have for awhile, but they are not too much of a threat to provoke full armed attack."
He shrugs. "Maybe I could travel back to my home? If they agree, we could assign some soldiers to protect you, or some boats to transport your people. If my captains agree."
One of the newcomers to First Landing wanders by the group, hearing the buzz that passes through small communities when something new or exciting happens. The human male stands behind some of the other onlookers, but close enough to see and hear what is going on in the center of the group. Having only recently arrived, the man hasn't had an opportunity to meet too many folks here - just a woman from the ship he was on, and a strange goblin who calls himself Mogwai.
He doesn't speak, but he is apparently very interested in what the group is saying. He looks at the two survivors of the raft to see if he recognizes either of them...
Beside Fa'zakar stands a thin and wiry woman with mousy brown hair and green eyes. She is plainly dressed in sturdy traveling clothes. It's easy to see the spear she uses as a walking stick and the crossbow slung on her back, but you have to look just a little harder to see the sea-tarnished chain shirt under her cloak.
"It might be time to meet our brave protectors and see what they are really like." Fa'zakar knows Gwen isn't talking about the Blades. She doesn't think much of those young soldiers. They were bold enough at fighting, but otherwise seemed to idle about when there was plenty of work to be done. "Let's get closer."
She edges closer to the discussion, getting there in time to hear the last few remarks.
”Soldiers, yes, that would be good. More protection and boats would be very handy right about now.” Victor agrees with the military man ”Maybe with luck they might even see fit to assist us with some provisions. Give me a bit and I’ll write a letter for you to bring with you.” he says before he quickly fetches some slightly waterlogged paper from a nearby hut and returns a few moments later to pen a request for aid while he listens to the developing situation with the castaways.
Murob has been thinking, brow furrowed. A whole prison town, with ogres and who knows how many gillmen... She didn't like their odds if they went in unprepared. As Yosiah makes his offer, she nods at him. "Help from your people would be very much appreciated. And it is also an opportunity for First Landing to establish formal relations with other inhabitants of this land. We don't have much to trade at the moment, but perhaps in the future that will change." She turns to Victor, raising a finger to get his attention. "Your intention is laudable, but I doubt that Yosiah's people will be able to read anything that you write. They do not speak any of the languages that are spoken in the Inner Sea region, from what we could determine. Yosiah himself has only just learned Taldane from us these last few days."
"Hrm. I'd hate dragging others into this, but it seems that we have mutual goals. Rescuing prisoners together might forge a bond of trust and friendship between First Landing and Yosiah's people ..." muses Ehiz.
Each total is divided by 2 to see how many days of food the group acquired for the day. Today, the fishers acquired 1 extra ration and the hunters acquired 22 extra rations, so the settlement will consume 7 rations by the end of the day.
"Oh.. I hadn't thought of that." Victor says a bit matter of factly "Well, he should be capable enough of reading it so it probably isn't an issue."
"How long will it take for them to return do you think?" He asks the other members of the group "If we are planning to wait for their assistance I have some ideas in mind to lessen how much we cut into the town's food supplies for this little expedition."
Yosiah shakes his head. "Not a good idea to wait, I think," he says.
"It may take a long time to return. It is a long walk, and it takes a long time to tell people to do things. Yes?"
”True enough. Well, if it is just the four of us then don’t bother the stockpile, I can bring some of my personal provisions for the trip.” Victor says to the others ”Do we know how many ogres they have there?” he asks as he starts to weigh their odds.
Gwen nudges Fa'zakar. "Someone should go with them. Aristocrats and adventurers. They might bring ruin on us all."
"We should wait at least until the two survivors feel better and can tell us more of this Corinth place. It sounds well-defended, so if we go ill-prepared it may mean our doom, and the doom of those we go to rescue." Murob intervenes. "What kind of things do we need to take with us? I'm a little versed in surviving in the wilderness, but assaulting an ogre-defended slave town is beyond my experience."
"Yes, it would be a good idea to have a plan. Getting as much knowledge from those men as possible would be a good thing, before we leave. Which probably means we have to wait until they recover some."
"But the way to make sure the enemy doesn't retaliate against you is to hit them so hard the first time that they do not have the ability. Half-measures may make things worse, but if we steel our wills and do what is necessary we can secure safety for everyone."
Gwen nudges Fa'zakar. "Someone should go with them. Aristocrats and adventurers. They might bring ruin on us all."
Fa'zakar nods in agreement with Gwen. "Yes - I suppose some honest, hard-working folk like the two of us would double the strength of this little raiding party. I can't just sit around while other people are being beaten by ogres! Let's tell them that we will go with them. Maybe we'll find your family..."
Fa'zakar takes a few steps forward. "If you need someone else to bolster your group, I am willing to help. The name is Fa'zakar. I arrived a day or two ago and haven't had a chance to meet you yet. I managed to salvage some food from our ship, so I should not need to take any from the town's meager supply. I will just a few minutes to grab my gear, and I can be ready to set out."
"Besides, I might find something valuable out there..." he mutters to himself.
The wiry woman steps up with Fa'zakar and leans on her spear. "I'll go too. You're gambling with all our lives. The common settlers need a voice too."
A few of the villagers speak up as well. Though most want to remain behind and build, three will come along. One of them is Arven, who's found his own spear and been taking sparring lessons from a blade. A second is a grizzled and gruff old dwarven sailor named Davos. "I didn't expect to make it here," he says, "Might as well help someone."
The third is a young man called Jim, who believes that his daughter was taken by the gillmen, and wants to save her. They all volunteer to help gather supplies, help sail the ship, and maybe even fight gillmen when the time comes.
"You say that almost like we aren't giving them one. Regardless, if all of you wish to join I am not opposed, however, i only can provide enough food for four people i am afraid." Victor explains to the small group "For the moment thats about as much as i can conjure in a day."
"I can forage for food as long as we don't keep too brisk of a pace. This land is pretty lush."
"Like this warrior, I can live on the land. I need only a couple days food in case my luck is bad." Feeling the awkwardness of addressing Sulan as 'this warrior'. Gwen adds, "You can call me Gwen."