Ehiz fires off two bolts at the offending ogre. One of them strikes just a glancing blow, ricocheting off of the ogre's hide. The other one, however, strikes the ogre along the side of its neck. It bellows in pain and fear, falling to its knees, when Sorala sweeps in and cleaves into its collarbone. It falls to the ground, bleeding from multiple wounds.
Murob, meanwhile, rushes in to heal Elizabeth. The healing hex works wonders, and restores Elizabeth to consciousness.
Yosiah stares aghast at the fallen ogre, arms hanging limply at his sides as he contemplates the violence he's just witnessed. "Je suis désolé." He mutters the words almost to himself, his gaze traveling to the other, snoring in a heap on the ground. His hand twirls the hatchet it's holding, contemplating what to do next. His eyes swell with tears, a single rivulet running down his cheek when he sees Elizabeth, broken and bloodied by the monster's club.
"C'était ma faute! J'ai paniqué! He says the words aloud even as he wipes the bloodied edge of his buckler clean with a cloth from his pack. He looks up at Karzok and sighs, pointing at the sleeping ogre and turning away, unable to watch whatever gruesome end it might meet.
Kofu, Je vous remercie beaucoup de m'avoir gardé en sécurité. Je suis désolé d'avoir eu peur.
Spoken:This was my fault! I panicked!
Prayer: Kofu, thank you very much for keeping me safe. I'm sorry I was afraid.
"We did it! We did it!" Murob laughs again, this time in relief. Then, remembering the still-sleeping ogre, she sends another mental nudge his way, wishing him pleasant dreams. Or, at least, very captivating dreams. Her mind wanders for a moment wondering what ogres might dream about, then she shakes herself back to reality.
"Quick, master halfling! Get down from there and let's leg it before this one wakes up. Karzok, you had rope. Think you can tie him up quickly? It may not hold him for long, but hopefully long enough. Er, tie up the ogre, that is, not the halfling."
Chest heaving after the short but furious battle, Karzok turns to Murob, "I believe that may not be the wisest way. This land may be foreign to us, but we were sent here to establish order and leaving a raging ogre loose to wreak it's vengeance on whomever it may stumble across is counter-intuitive to our goals. This beast cannot be left alive." He does not stall for the acquiescence of his companions.
Karzok walks over to the sleeping ogre, an impassive mask on his face. He raises the heavy blade of his greatsword to the sky and lets it fall onto the exposed neck of the ogre, creating a sickening thunk as it severs most of the tendons.
Karzok slices through the neck of the remaining ogre in one powerful blow. It gurgles for a moment, waking up from Murob's slumber, before dying.
Above, the halfling quietly climbs down the tree that he had climbed in order to escape the ogres. Down on the ground, you can get a better look at him - wearing a woolen hooded cloak, over a basic grey tunic and a pair of threadbare pants, he carries nothing but a wooden holy symbol. The symbol is a wooden disc with a hooded head covered in stars carved on it.
He is Neutral.
In a quiet, understated voice, the halfling says, "Thank you for rescuing me. You were on the ship, right? The Marie Celeste?"
"Yes, we were on the ship. Unfortunately, it looks like not many have survived and we are in quite a hostile land. We are now trying to get our bearings and see if we can orient ourselves to the First Landing. Although... we've already made landfall of a sorts, so it's not really first landing anymore, is it? Anyway, you should stay with us. I know that some of us may seem... intimidating, but we are quite competent, and there's safety in numbers."
Murob considers the holy symbol for a moment, unsure if she should reveal her recognition of the halfling's patron god. Perhaps he didn't want others to know. Ng was also the patron of those who must keep secrets, and perhaps the halfling's religious affiliation was a secret in itself. She opts for a more subtle approach.
"Besides, those who travel under the stars might enjoy the companionship of similarly-minded people."
Regaining consciousness, Elizabeth picks herself off of the ground, rubbing her bloody head. "F%+#," she says. "I knew that was a bad idea, but the degree to which it was bad is... wow."
She looks up and sees the dead ogres, though. "I suppose I should thank you guys for saving me..."
The halfling nods. "Yes, I agree. I was trying to get away from those pirates, but me and the two older men ran into spiders. I made it away, but the men did not... and then I ran into these ogres, who seemed to want to eat me." He strokes his completely hairless chin - he appears to be in his early thirties. "Making it to more people might be prudent. Even if none of the other ships survived, there should already be a settlement at the site of First Landing, right?"
Ehiz blinks as he stares at the halfling's holy symbol, unable to figure out what deity, being or spirit it belongs to, but when the man babbles on about what happened to him a worrying thought crosses the farmer's mind. "You seem to carry bad luck with you, friend. Are you sure it's just coincidence? Because if not, we ought to take precautions. Only the Gods Above and Below know how fickle the spirits and beings of this new land are and it might be that you somehow angered one of them."
It wasn't that Ehiz didn't trust the man, but performing the proper rites and rituals to curry the favor of the gods seemed .. wise.
"A settlement, yes." The halfling would likely have been killed already by Sorala's former mistress, viewed as at best, a coward, and thus unreliable. Still, they needed everyone. And - Sorala had to remind herself - she was not her mistress. "Your fear is understandable. As was your flight. But, you put all of us in danger." Sorala nods towards Elizabeth. "If we lost her, I'm not sure your rescue would have been worth the risk. Stay close. Be brave."
As they make their way to higher ground, Sorala walks alongside Elizabeth. "I heard what you said back there. Everyone lived. There were no bad ideas. You mentioned at the beach that you'd be more comfortable in armor. Are you a knight?"
As they talk, the Squire keeps her hand on her falcata and her eyes on the jungle, pointing things out here and there to Mogwai, proven to be a better tracker than Sorala, or Yosiah, who likely knew something about the area.
At the sound of blade slicing sinew, Yosiah winces. When the ogre's death knell is over, the gurgling of blood abated, he finally brings himself to turn around. He nods his appreciation at Karzok, and approaches the Halfling. He speaks tentatively in his own language, hoping the small man might understand him. "Bonjour Monsieur. Je suis content que vous soyez en vie. Peux-tu me comprendre? J'ai très besoin d'un traducteur."
Hello, sir. I am glad you are alive. Can you understand me? I need a translator very badly.
After his brief interaction, Yosiah will look at Ehiz Murob, Mogwai, Elizabeth, Sorala, and Karzok each in turn, certain he's made eye contact and confidently pointing at a path through the trees. After getting everyone's attention, he departs, leading the group of survivors towards high ground.
The group picks itself up and heads out, led by Yosiah, to somewhere that he motions is high ground. At Ehiz's question, the halfling - who introduces himself as named Ledz - answers thusly: "I'm not sure what the gods or spirits of this place are. If you want to honor them once you find out, I'm happy to do so."
Unfortunately, he doesn't understand Arcadian. He is a newcomer to these lands just like everyone else, but does mention that he can ask his divine patron for the ability to understand foreign languages.
On the walk up to the mountaintop, Elizabeth nods, wrapping a bit of spare cloth around the wound on her head. "I suppose that's what you'd call me if you wanted to label me with something. I grew up in Brevoy, with the Lebeda noble family, so I've been trained in the arts of combat, and in courtly life. Unfortunately, I think my horse must have drowned.."
After about an hour, the group comes to the top of the nearest mountain. It was a difficult but not impossible hike up here, especially for Elizabeth and Arven, who carried the unconscious merchant. However, the top of the mountain is flat, grassy, and peaceful. Not only that, but the view from up here is spectacular - the coastline can be seen for miles, and miles inland can be seen. In the distance, a set of impossibly high snow-capped peaks cross the continent east-to-west.
Yosiah recognizes the geography from up here. He and Baldric were on extended patrol while Baldric set up some of his defensive tools, which means it would take about two days to return, but he thinks he can find his way back to the Eastern Fortress from here, if he were to hike northeast into the jungle.
Murob, on the other hand, recognizes it as well. The shape of the coastline strikes a memory in her of her brother's map. She knows that the site of First Landing is perhaps fifty miles to the south along the coastline - perhaps thee days hike.
Murob spends some time gazing at the surrounding terrain, looking for landmarks and sketching a rough map in the dirt. As she speaks, she tries to repeat the core of her words with gestures and signs for Yosiah's benefit.
"I recognise where we are now. The storm blew us northwards a ways. First Landing is that way, about fifty miles. If we follow the coast, it would take us maybe three days to get there."
She pauses to survey their group, lingering on the still-unconscious man with concern.
"Of course, we would all have to be fit for walking such a long distance and make sure that we have enough provisions." She chews on her lip, regarding Yosiah with a speculative expression. "Perhaps Yosiah would agree to be our local guide...? We would compensate him for his help, naturally."
Karzok spares no words for the still warm corpse. He grabs a wide leaf from a nearby tree and wipes his blade clean, sliding it back into it's sheath. To the halfling he simply says, "Try to stay with the group. I am called Karzok. From Ustalav."
He pulls out his bow and trots up to the front of the group, following closely behind Yosiah. Murob's comment catches his ear, "With a group this large traipsing through the woods I doubt I'll be able to find much game, but I'll range around and see what I can scare up." He splits off from the immediate group, traveling a few hundred feet away, keeping both his eyes and ears trained to the forest looking for available food sources.
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"Since food is vital to our success, I'll join Karzok in hunting and foraging as we go. The size of our group should keep most predators at bay, as long as we stick close enough to one another, but it might still be wise to not attract unwanted attention through making unnecessary noise." The grumpy farmer knew that they knew, but saying it somehow made him feel like he had done his duty. He eyed Arven and figured that now wasn't the best of times to introduce the lad to the basics of foraging. "When the circumstances improve, I can show you and anyone who cares how to find food in the wilds, but it is best if ye all stick together. For now."
Off he went, roaming about the group in search of edible roots, fruits, nuts, berries and small game that could be seduced into entering their cooking pot through a well-placed arrow.
Mogwai surveys from the mountaintop, a look of concern on his little green face. He seems distracted enough that he doesn't look up when Ehiz and Karzok mention going scavenging, which is otherwise one of his favourite things. After a few minutes, he turns to Murob and Sorala and the others. "Where others?" he asks, the ends of his ears twitching. "Not enough bodies in sand, and Mogwai not see tracks. Where go?"
Arven shrugs, tossing himself down on the flat grassy gnoll-top. He's exhausted from carrying another man all day so far. "I dunno," he responds to Mogwai. "Maybe they washed up elsewhere on the beach?"
Pharast speaks up as well, softly - "Or maybe they drowned."
Karzok welcomed the solitude of the hunt. Since the crash, he really hadn’t had the chance to process all that had happened and what their new situation meant for his mission to find Breddaric and to destroy him and his men. Roaming the thick wood inevitably took him back to his time spent in seclusion within the Shudderwood when he transitioned from youth to man, from craftsman to bounty hunter.
Even though he was a world apart from that place, the sounds and the smells were virtually identical. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the thick aroma of pine and detritus and a calm settled over him. He didn’t allow himself too much time for fancy as he kept a sharp eye on the thick brush and soft earth. He picked clean a patch of wide, golden mushrooms and snatched up a handful of small lizards. He grunted in frustration as his arrow missed it’s mark and a brown hare darted off into the leaves, never to be seen again.
A few short days and they would be in First Landing and the real hunt would begin. Hopefully they encountered no more distractions in their trek to their new home.
Yosiah sits against a large rock in the clearing, removing his helmet and wiping his brow with the back of one leather-bound forearm. He looks to the Northeast, pointing in the general direction of his home base. "Mes gens sont là. Pas loin. Peut-être deux jours."[b] His eyes scan the other members of his impromptu traveling party, and he notices Mogwai and Murob studying some scratches made in the dirt.
Standing slowly, stretching his rapidly-stiffened legs after only a brief moment's respite, Yosiah approaches the map and looks it over. He nods when Murob points at a patch of coastline to the south. [b]"Je connais la région, mais c'est très dangereux. Toute cette zone est dangereuse. Les monstres aiment les araignées et les ogres dans ces bois." He pantomimes the ogre, and the skittering of spiders with his hands as he speaks, pointing at the woods and shaking his head in warning. He arches an eyebrow, as if to ask a question without asking it. "You still wish to go this way?" he seems to imply with the look, and accompanying gesture with his hand.
1. My people are there. Not far. Maybe two days.
2. I know the area, but it is very dangerous. This whole area is dangerous. Monsters like the spiders and ogres in these woods.
Elizabeth nods at Yosiah, coming to sit near him while they plan out where to go. "I guess the question is," she says, pointing at Murob's map, "Do we think that there are people at First Landing? And can we talk with this guy?" she asks, pointing a thumb at Yosiah. "I feel like if we could, we could get a lot of questions answered. Like... where he's pointing us towards."
Ledz comes and sits by as well, while Arven and Pharast rest elsewhere. He looks up at Yosiah, and pantomimes sleeping by pressing his hands together and putting them to his cheek, and then shrugging. "Tomorrow, I can pray to my patron Ng to understand this foreigner's words," he says.
"I'm not sure what to think, when it comes to our destination. I would gladly follow this man back to where he is going though - I'm sure it would be very interesting."
Elizabeth frowns, her eyebrows creasing with concern. "I don't know if that's... safe. And besides, don't we want to be making our own home, one way or the other?"
Ledz shrugs. "I dunno... what if it's infested with spiders and ogres and spirits and plants? Wouldn't we be safer with natives?"
shrugs. "I dunno... what if it's infested with spiders and ogres and spirits and plants? Wouldn't we be safer with natives?"
Murob looks pained at Mogwai's question. "I don't know where they are. Like this man says, maybe they ended up on a different spot of coastline. Alive or dead, we cannot know until we find them."
The half-orc woman listens to the discussions around her. It is clear the Yosiah wants them to go in a different direction. Perhaps his people have a settlement there. Or perhaps... Murob hadn't survived this long by being overly trusting of people. This one had been helping them, true, but who knows how the rest of his kind would react to their presence? Truth be told, she felt more than a little unwelcome in this land. She had thought that the expedition was about settling a mostly uninhabited land, yet within less than an hour of making landfall they had met a member of a clearly civilized society. What right did they have to be here, laying claim to this land?
Still, better to stick with what they knew.
"I think I understand a few words of what he's saying, but I can't be sure of his meaning. And we can't be sure of what welcome we would get among his people, which is where I think he wants to take us. We don't know if the natives are any less dangerous to us than ogres and spiders. Better to continue with the original plan and try to reach First Landing. Depending on what we find there... we'll see."
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It's about midafternoon when Karzok and Ehiz return from their hunting foray. The sun has been beating down all day long, and it's really only thanks to the surrounding trees that it's not unbearable. It begins to lightly rain, and the rain is warm, and Ehiz and Karzok return.
Karzok has a bag full of mushrooms, a small group of dead lizards bound by their tails, a sack full of little red berries, and a couple of little furry creatures that look basically like rabbits.
Ehiz has a young doe, another bag of mushrooms, a big bound bunch of wild asparagus, and a sack of cut cattails.
Between the two of them, some makeshift cooking and eating utensils, and the shelter of a tree, another couple of hours sees the group with a strange stew of venison, "rabbit" meat, mushrooms and cattails, and everyone has fruit and asparagus to munch on. Everyone also gets a little skewer with half a roasted lizard on it. It's a relatively sparse meal, with so many people to divide it between, but it is filling and strangely delicious. While eating it, you all realize that it must have been many hours since you've eaten, as you have no idea how long you were unconscious on that beach and you've been here for nearly half a day now.
Afterward, the question of whether to press on - as well as which direction to go - or to rest now comes up.
Sorala sits in the rain and sweats, gnawing on the tailbone of her bit of roasted lizard. It was important, she thought, to get every last bit of flesh. The meal, while good, wasn't enough - within a few months on this diet, they would all be skeletons.
Wiping her brow, the Squire tosses the lizard's remains into the cookfire. "Agreed," the Irrisenian says, nodding her head to Murob. "Let's get to First Landing. Then, we can make entreaties with his people."
Without looking up from his stew Karzok voices his agreement, the dancing flames reflected in his dark eyes. "We make for First Landing. I have business there that I must attend to." The dark concoction moistens his bristling chin as he nods to Murob, "As you say, we've no idea of this man's intent. He seems to be on the level, sure, but we already missed our destination by a fair margin. We've no need for more distractions." He stuffs a lizard skewer into his mouth, sucking on the bones.
He gestures to the merchant, "Any chance of rousing him before we leave in the morning? We could use another pair of hands. Besides, he looks over to Elizabeth and Arven, "you've gotta be tired of carrying the poor sap."
"Come tomorrow, I could speak to our Arcadian friend for a short while." Almost immediately Ehiz corrects himself however. "No, I can listen to him for a while, but hopefully in that brief period of time we can get some valuable communication done. Sadly, I don't think I can do much for our merchant friend. Time and proper care - yes, I know that us being on the move doesn't constitute as 'proper care' - are his friends. However, I can prepare a ritual that will help carrying him along easier .."
The man frowns and continues to eat his meal. It wouldn't do to tell his companions that performing these rituals would take much of his divine powers. Who knew what terrors they'd run into tomorrow?
After a bit of deliberation and incomprehensible conversation, Yosiah unpacks his bag, unrolls is bedroll, and kneels on it to pray for a few minutes before sleeping.
His prayers completed, he turns in for the night, falling quickly into sleep.
Changing spells prepared for the morning (Divine Favor, Divine Favor, Comprehend Languages, Orisons unchanged)
Murob nods at the priest as Ehiz explains his plans. "Being able to at least understand our new companions would be useful, indeed. I shall do the same. Ahhh, magic, so useful, but so limited at the same time. I think I can learn his language, eventually, but I will need to dedicate some time to it, so far the situation hasn't been exactly propitious for language lessons." She chuckles to herself.
"As to this man... Sadly I lack the means to cure the poison, but perhaps I can give him a fortifying brew that will help him fight it on his own. I will keep an eye on him tonight." She looks around, noticing the Arcadian already making ready for sleep. "And speaking of, should we not post some guards? It seems unwise to go to sleep in hostile territory without some of us keeping watch."
After dinner, the group settles down for sleep after a long and exhausting day. There are more than enough people to set up 2-hour watches, and the night passes without any murderous creatures climbing up the hill to eat everyone.
The morning is full of prayers, meditation, stretching, and more. A few of the party sleeps in, especially Arven and Elizabeth, due to not being used to the adventuring lifestyle. The lack of bedrolls makes sleep pretty uncomfortable for everyone.
Breakfast was scant, Sorala gnawing on a left-over lizard. As the spells of understanding were cast, the Squire looked to their new companion. The questions came quick, a stream of them, with little thought or direction to steer them. "Where is your home? Can you guide us to First Landing? Do I say your name correctly? What of the slavers we killed on the beach? Are they common here?"
Putting away her spellbook, Sorala stands and stretches. There would be a long walk today, but that was alright. The Irrisenian looked forward to seeing First Landing, and the safety it would bring. Drawing her falcata, Sorala took the rear guard, her eyes on the jungle, everpresent shades of green and the buzzing of insects, a view almost as monotonous as the snowfields of home.
As the group awakens, the paralyzed merchant also regains consciousness. The bald middle-aged man tries to stretch, but finds moving his body very painful. He grumbles and moans, but slowly rolls over onto his side, and pushes himself up onto his hands and knees. It takes him awhile, but he manages to get up onto his feet, where he stands unsteadily.
He looks around at the group, squinting - it's clear that his eyesight isn't so good. "Where are we?" he asks.
Something does crawl up into the campsite in the night. Among the cries of the night birds, or animals, or whatever it is that lurks in this jungle, a very faint skittering can be heard. Firelight glints off a hard, dark carapace, highlighting the tips of pincers. An articulated tail flexes, bringing into view the venomous sting. The scorpion pauses for a moment, turning this way and that, before disappearing into a bedroll. Murob turns in her sleep and mumbles.
______________________
In the morning, some are awoken by a shriek. Should they look for the source, they will find the half-orc woman ... cuddling a scorpion? And crying?
"You're alive! Oh gods above and below, you're alive! I thought you'd drowned! You can't swim, you silly thing! Did you float on a piece of wood? You must've! How did you find me? Aren't you smart? Yes, you are! You're the smartest! Best scorpion, that's what you are!"
And on and on she goes, talking with the creature for a full hour, telling it all about their adventures so far, their plans for the day ahead, her worries and concerns. Done at last, she slips the scorpion into her breast pocket and beams at the assembles company.
"Well! I'm all set. Did you manage to get anything out of our Arcadian friend? I can magic myself to understand him, but best save that for later, in case we have new questions, no?"
Seeing that the merchant is at least partially recovered, she approaches cautiously, not wanting to spook him. For a second time that morning, she recounts the group's trials and tribulations since the storm, albeit in a much abridged and less colourful manner. Should he permit her to examine him, she would like to check him for any lasting effects of the poison.
Ehiz wakes as the first slivers of light crawl into the world and he takes his time going through his holy rituals, knowing that he will need Erastil's favor and guidance today.
Once Yosiah is awake, he approaches him and points with his index finger at Yosiah and then at himself. What follows is the universal gesture for talk which Ehiz produces by snapping his thumb up against his outstretched fingers. He clutches a pinch of soot and salt and shows this to the man, hoping Yosiah understands he is about to initiate the casting of a spell.
Mogwai agrees with the others about heading to First Landing before anything else. If for no other reason than to drop off the wounded. There was a strong change of finding more of them who might need help, Azeban and others, and he didn't want to put others in danger.
After dinner he picks remaining meat off the bones, and sleeps comfortably outside on the ground, feeling closer to his people than he has in a long time. While he's grown accustomed to beds and proper meals, he's surprised to find how easily he slips into his old ways.
In the morning, Mogwai munches on some berries, watching from a distance as Ehiz talks to the stranger and Murob talks to her scorpion. As the merchant begins moving again, it solidifies the morning's glory for Mogwai, and he smiles, thanking The Dawnflower again for their luck, and for her watching over them.
Mogwai is all smiles by the time he is prepared to set off with the others. "Dawnflower watching. Mogwai is thinking we make good distance this day."
Yosiah wakes in the morning, his whole body aching from the exertion of the previous day. As Ehiz approaches him, he nods his understanding, but holds his hand up in the universal sign for "wait." He is emphatic in his acceptance and agreement to Ehiz's gestures, but immediately leaves to tend to his morning ablutions.
After a few minutes of thoughtful prayer, recounting his recent trials and begging for additional fortune, he washes his face with a bit of fresh water from his canteen, and performs a handful of stretches and calisthenic exercises.
All of this completed, he returns to the farmer, some 20 or 30 minutes later. He holds up his own pinch of salt and soot, pointing at Ehiz and then at himself, as if to say he will cast his spell when he is done speaking. When this is properly conveyed, he will wait for Ehiz to cast the spell before speaking.
The words come tumbling out of his mouth, slowly at first, but becoming almost manic as he continues, the look of comprehension and understanding on the other man's face bringing him a sense of joyful urgency.
"I am Corporal Yosiah Crint of the Arcadian Central Defense Force. I am an Ambassador from Kansai, sent to man my post at the Eastern Fortress. It was luck that brought me to you and your friends. I was patrolling with my comrade, Baldric, when we were attacked by the lizard you saw yesterday. I don't know what happened to him.
The pirates from yesterday are called Gillmen. They are vicious little bastards, and raid these shores frequently. My company lost two men to them last month, which is why Baldric and I were called down to replace them. They're not the worst part of this area, not by half. The whole of Arcadia south of the wall is inhospitable, terrible, and cruel. Enormous lizards and spiders are the least of our worries down here. In truth, the biggest concern is the lack of warding spirits. In Kansai, we have Lares to ward our homes and keep us safe. There is no Lar in the south, to protect our people. To be fair, it's a wonder our neighbors to the north manage to survive, as barbaric as they are, but they've managed to enlist the protection of their own Lares, somehow.
I am a woodsman by trade, Devoted Knight of Kofusachi, the Laughing God. I joined the ACDF and swore fealty to my God and my country so that I might choose my own fate, rather than become a rank-and-file soldier, doomed to die in the first moments of battle. Kofusachi keeps me safe, gives me good luck, and will return me to my wife, Maza, so I might see her again soon. She is with my mother now. Para is her name. They are working in my lumberyard in my stead. It's a family business, though it's hard to say how long it will last if the war with Haidao continues much longer.
Haidao is the nation to the northeast of Kansai. They used to be our allies, but recently have taken a liking to our fertile ground. We grow grapes and other fruits, grow huge, strong trees, and appreciate the beauty of our little country. Haidao has nothing but cold mountains and rocky beaches. They're fishermen, mostly. Which makes them hard, and cruel."
After vomiting words at both Ehiz and Sorala, who joined the conversation midway, Yosiah seems almost winded. He takes a few deep breaths before casting his own version of the spell, grinning in delight as the words coming from Sorala's mouth rearrange themselves in his mind to make sense. After she is done asking her questions, Yosiah sighs and begins speaking again.
"My home is north of here, in Kansai. I don't know what First Landing is, though I'm not sure I could promise much guidance if it is south of here. As I mentioned before, this land is wild, untamed, and unwarded. It's dangerous for anyone, let alone new colonists with fresh supplies, ripe for plunder and piracy. However, I know the land better than you, and know of the creatures that live here. So I will do what I can to guide you. It is my duty as an Ambassador of Kansai, and likely the mission that Kofusachi has given me, by virtue of the circumstances that led to our meeting. The slavers are...not uncommon. They come mostly to strike those weak or susceptible to raids. For what purpose they capture humans, I do not know. Only that the threat of their return is not to be taken lightly."
After answering the questions, Yosiah clears his throat, takes a healthy swig of water, and begins asking his own. They come out quickly.
"Who are you all? Why colonize here? What is the little green man? How did you come to find this place? Was Arcadia your intent, or were you headed for different waters? What are your names? Do you have families? Are you hostile? Do you bring Lares with you to protect your homes? Have you heard of Kofusachi or his teachings? Do you think he has sent me to you? Do you wish to visit my people and come live among us, instead? I would welcome you all into my home."
Ehiz softly repeats the words as to not bear over Yosiah's voice. Certain words and phrases he repeats, such as Arcadian Central Defense Force and Ambassador from Kansai. The information overload painfully reminds Ehiz of the fact that they are far, far away from the trappings of civilization: having a notebook and pencil wouldn't hurt right about now.
After the information shell shock, Yosiah continues with a barrage of questions and Ehiz tries to answer them as calmly - and quickly - as he can. These rituals that allowed them to talk don't last forever.
"We are colonists from too many lands to name and are part of a larger expedition. The green man is a goblin named Mogwai. We meant to come to Arcadia, to a place we call First Landing. Most of our families are at home, across the ocean. Not hostile, only looking for our new home: First Landing. Lares? I am a god-talker of Erastil. I do not know Kofusachi. I do not presume to know the ways of the Gods and Spirits above and below. I .. cannot answer that, we must first find our expedition I think, but I must pose this question to my companions." Ehiz takes a breather and goes over the most important bits of information in his head, hoping to make them stick.
"Once this ritual runs out, I will point at each person and tell your their name. My name is Ehiz of Andoran."
Sorala nods along as Ehiz talks, understanding the gist of Yosiah's questions from the answers given by the priest.
"Yes, we must find First Landing, and if possible, the rest of our ships. What are the Gods and Spirits above and below?"
"Divinity in all its facets: the Gods, the Spirits and the raw powers that be. Yosiah asked if I think whether or not his God sent him to us and I do not want to presume to know the way of the Gods."
Blunt as ever.
As Yosiah talks to the group for the first time, Arven, Elizabeth and Pharast pack up the group's stuff, meager as it is, and mill around on top of the hill. Ledz sits nearby, patiently waiting and listening with the benefits of his own comprehend languages spell. The merchant who regained consciousness introduces himself as Oleg but otherwise remains mostly quiet - he seems to be in pretty significant pain and doesn't seem to be in any mood to talk.
Everyone is ready to head out towards First Landing just as soon as the group is finished speaking with Yosiah.
Murob seems inordinately cheerful as she bustles around in the camp, making a soothing tea for Oleg and listening with one ear as Ehiz and Yosiah converse. The lengthy talking from the Arcadian is a boon, as she feels that she is starting to get the hang of the cadence and rhythm of the language. Actually understanding words or phrases is still a ways off, but just hearing the sound of it makes it become more familiar, somehow. She repeats to herself under her breath certain words that stuck with her, decided to approach Yosiah later for a brief lesson in Arcadian (or whatever they call this language that he speaks). Comprehension spells are all well and good, but it's much easier when you can actually speak the language.
She catches snatches of conversation that seem to indicate that they have a choice between continuing ahead to First Landing or settling... somewhere else? Perhaps among the Arcadians. She would have to see how these natives treat her and Mogwai first, but if they prove open-minded then she is equally open to the idea of settling among them. The Ulfen woman makes a very good point, however. If the rest of their ships have been wrecked like theirs, they have a duty to seek out the survivors and render aid. She wraps up the last of her travel preparations and stands patiently nearby, idly toying with one of the vials that they took off the gillmen yesterday (and now she knows the Arcadian word for "gillmen", too). She wonders if whatever was in them could help Oleg.
She takes a closer look at the vials and recoils. That stuff would definitely *not* help poor Oleg! This was poison! Spurred on by this discovery, she takes out the scroll she could not figure out the previous day and examines it again with a clearer mind. What could gillmen possibly want with a scroll of blood biography? For that matter, the other scroll had also been about the dead, no? Murob shudders and says a brief prayer to Pharasma. If the gillmen were messing around with the dead... A mystery for another day though, now she needed to focus on the challenges that lay ahead of them.
Karzok listened in on the magically translated conversation with half an ear. On one hand he wanted to learn as much as he could about the surrounding area, but on the other his mind was already made up. He would travel to First Landing, alone if he had to. Breddaric and his men would pay for their crime and Karzok was here to see it through.
Seeing Murob studying the vials, Karzok walks over to her, "Manage to get a handle on what this stuff might be?" "Poison, you say? I've a use for that. The men I'm looking for I intend to kill, so I'll take every advantage I can get." He says flatly, his dark eyes cold and without emotion.
Everyone seems to want to head back to First Landing, at least at first. So, with very little to pack up, the group has a meager breakfast of some leftover mustrooms and scraps of lizard meat and sets off on the road. Arven and Pharast still have to support Oleg, though he is walking on his own feet at this point. Descending the mountain is fairly easy, and once at the bottom Karzok climbs a tree to double-check where south is before the group heads out again.
They have a long walk ahead of them to get to their destination, where they hope they might find some people.
It's very hot, and humid, though the thick overgrown jungle manages to spare you somewhat from the punishing rays of the sun. Still, the heat seems to hang in the air, wet and sticky like syrup. The ground is rooty and uneven, with very little to speak of in terms of paths, forcing you all to rely on thin game paths created by unseen creatures. Still, there is quite a bit of stumbling in order, especially for Oleg, whose reflexes and manual control seem to still be debilitated by whatever spider poison he suffered from.
After about two hours of travel, the group encounters an obstacle and must stop. The obstacle is heralded from a distance of hundreds of feet by the sound of rushing water, which makes it no surprise when it is reached. Splitting the ground is a deep ravine, about ten feet across. The ravine is about fifty feet deep, craggy rocks on either side. At the bottom is a rushing river. This river-ravine seems to extend beyond sight in either direction - one further inland, the other towards the ocean.
What do you do?
Sorala stops, and falcata in hand, approaches the edge of the ravine. Looking down, then inland, then away, the woman sighs, and wipes the sweat from her forehead. What she wouldn't do to be back at that beach, and taking a quick swim in the ocean.
"We go over, or down, or inland, or to the coast. I don't trust us all to make it over, and I have no rope or climbing gear. The river looks dangerous to cross. At some point, it will likely dump into the ocean, though. Or, perhaps we'll hit a bridge or a way to ford. Should we head towards the coast, and continue south when we're able?"
"I've not heard of Erastil, but if you serve him, I am sure he must be a good God. Kofusachi is a joyful god. One of luck, abundance, and happiness. Service to him can be as simple as drinking wine with new friends near a campfire, or exploring a strange, new world with hopes of colonizing." He waggles his eyebrows, smirking. "It is as easy as breathing, and enjoying the fruitful pleasures of life in Arcadia. Mogwai is a strange creature, but he seems quite well-trained. Is he a slave? I do not condone slavery, so I pray such is not the case. Besides, he seems too...spirited, for such a life.
As to the Lares, they are spirits. There is a Lar in every home. They are called to visit the hearth, and bless the abode with peace and fortune. They are not Gods, per se, but we invoke them all the same. I hope this makes sense, and I can assure you that such practices will not conflict with your worship of Erastil. Assuming, of course, that Erastil is not a jealous God. I think that is a safe assumption, from what I know of you. I do not know much of the Gods and Spirits above and below, but I know plenty of the Gods and Spirits inside and out!" Yosiah cackles, a bright flush on his cheeks at his own barely-clever joke. After a moment, his expression turns serious again, a dour, stony face replacing the ebullient countenance of a moment ago.
"Now then, I must ask, as an Ambassador.How many others are on your expedition? And what diplomatic goals do your people have, with regards to mine? I want to be certain you are not an invading band of scouts, of course. I hope you understand my trepidation. As to the question of getting to your friends, I will guide you through the jungle back to the coastline. It is easier to travel with the sea to guide us, and we will have the natural protection of open beach preventing ambush from one side."
Yosiah smiles and waves, a boyish grin on his face as he learns the names of the other colonists, repeating each of them with a thick Arcadian accent. "C'est un plaisir"
Upon encountering the ravine, Yosiah stops and holds up his hand, to silence the others. He listens intently, his eyes darting up to the treetops and down the side of the steep crevasse. He surveys the surroundings for a minute or more before finally pointing towards the ocean.
"I see. Back home, most 'Lar' have been subjugated by the Gods and they do not play such a prominent role in day to day life. As for how many others there are, I .." and Ehiz rolls his eyes up while sinking into thought. "Pfoo. We had multiple ships leave home, but the storm that shipwrecked us might have claimed all of the others. Perhaps we are all who are left, but maybe tens if not over a hundred others have made it? I rather not dwell on these things for they give birth to terrible thoughts that lead down dark paths, and we need to fully focus on the task ahead if we want to have a chance at making it."
The farmer pushes away a branch and steps through underneath before continueing on. "I honestly do not know what diplomatic ties the colony has to its other surroundings. I suppose they seek mutual friendship, but know this I do know not."
--------
"Down to the ocean we go, then. Unless .. anyone objects?" and the grumpy farmer eyes his companions, praying to Erastil none do object.
Murob frowns in puzzlement at Karzok's mention of using poison to kill some men. She wants to ask him for more details, but the others seem to have concluded their conversation with Yosiah and are preparing to move out. As they make their way through the oppressing atmosphere of the jungle, she muses on the situation. The other half-orc does not strike her as a murderer or assassin, but she knows that appearances can be deceiving. If he plans to kill people, and if she gives him the poison, it's as good as being an accomplice to his deeds. She wonders if these men are the reason why Karzok made the journey across the ocean. If so, a powerful hatred must drive him.
Her thoughts are interrupted by the ravine and river blocking their path. She doesn't fancy herself a strong swimmer, or a strong climber, so the proposal to look for an easier traversal spot agrees with her. As the Arcadian surveys their surroundings, she remembers to do the same - after all, more eyes and ears are always good for spotting trouble. With a sharp stab of fear, she realizes that she had been so lost in her ruminations that she forgot to pay attention to her surroundings. They are still in very dangerous territory, she should not let her attention wander like this again.
Karzok answers her frown with a growl. It was a simple request, why was it not being honored? "Why do you hestitate? I do not take pleasure in killing, far from it. I assure you this is a heavy burden I carry. But the men I seek have wronged me in a very profound way and I intend to make it so that they never harm another person again." He looks down at the vials for a moment, then back up into Murob's eyes, "If you don't give them to me then, what, do you intend on selling them for coin at the first market we come across? What then? They'll be peddled to some cutthroat, which will use the poison to kill an innocent civilian in some dark alley? How would that weigh on your conscience?" He takes a step towards her, lowering his voice, "Wouldn't you prefer that I use it to put bad men into the ground? I would hope so." And with that he holds out a hand for the vials.
After learning of the Yosiah's good intentions, he has no problem following his direction, although if it were up to him he would simply fire another grappling arrow across the chasm and climb across a rope. He wipes the sweat from his brow and takes a pull from his waterskin. Not waiting for any objections from the group, he trots off towards the ocean, scouting out the path before them, his dark shadow following closely behind him.