As Marcus and Vincent head over to the tavern, Marcus speaks quietly to the other.
He has a purpose in telling us what he did. No question.
I do think we should talk to this Clantock but maybe some more investigation first is in order. I don't trust that man further than I could throw his anvil.
I didn't want him knowing our business but if the Pounders camp is just here, lets take a look? They could have left a journal or a map or something.
"Sounds like a good idea." he nods and moves with Marcus, though instead of ducking around behind buildings. Vincent takes a more direct approch in the middle of the street, confident that Mercus could cover him if something where to go Awry. "Hello? Is this the camp of a group of brutes known as the Pounders?"
With the iron bits produced, the waitress translates further-
You might want to set up a tab; Lucky says for four iron bits he'll serve you and your companions whatever you want all evening- special price as a welcome to the camp.
Zanzu sizes up Simon as he replies with a shrug-
Kind of just ended up here. Wandered for a while. The camp's home, for now. Honest work? Not likely in this place... he said with scepticism. They found him cheating at cards and strung him up. Not much more to say really. If he was strong enough to defend himself, he likely wouldn't have been hung. There is not much law or order here. Only the Usurer keeps people in line.
You think that the robes he is wearing, the belt pouch and the quarterstaff are all this man possesses; at least on him in person. The quarterstaff is of master-work quality and is worth 300 gold pieces.
Arachiel sensed a faint aura of evil in the tavern. With concentration, he narrowed it down its source- to the Gnome at the bar.
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The remains of campfires, midden pits and tent stakes show that this is a regular camp-site that was recently abandoned. An inordinate amount of garbage and stinking wastes show that the inhabitants were giant-kind.
While Lord Vincent's help was very limited as he announced himself to an empty campsite, Marcus and Kirilarien quickly found that the Pounders were not very good at hiding their stashes. Between them, they found 73 iron bits but very little else.
Marcus pockets the money.
Well if any of them return they can have it back. Looks like this is it.
Mmm hmm .. you take me to all the nicest places.
Durin plunks his three iron bits down on the counter top. You have yourself a deal! We'll run a tab for the other three we owe, if that is fine with you. There will be two others joining us momentarily...
Durin turned to join the others already seated, a broad smile upon his face. He may regret that deal shortly!
Realizing he has forgotten the littlest member of the companions, Durin turns and remarks, Sorry, that will be 3 others joining us! That makes four additional bits then...
Marcus pockets the money.
Well if any of them return they can have it back. Looks like this is it.
"Well, I guess that blacksmith was telling the truth." despite his curiosity, Vincent decides not to root through the trash or waste. He heads back to The Usurer to exchange some gold for iron. "I believe you said five peices of gold for one iron bit, right my good man?"
Taking some time he pulls out points and places them down.
"There we go. One Hundred gold peices for twenty iron bits." but before he removes his hand he gives a smile towards the Blacksmith "How many more iron bits do I gain as part of my nobleman's discount?"
Diplomacy:
The tengu's beak opens and lets out a cackle. "Well, when I say honest work, I mean work that pays shall we say Simon. But how have you survived out here, I mean you ain't got no armor like most, yet you don't look like you got a big heavy book of spells and recipes and things. How do you survive in this refuge from desolation." Zanzu asks intrigued by the man's obvious confidence, yet his seeming lack of adornments.
The Usurer paused his work to carry out the transaction but his watery blue eyes did not waver as he looked at Lord Vincent's eyes for a moment.
I do not haggle.
With those four words said, he picked up his hammer and returned to his work.
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The sign-language speaking, maimed Orc smiled cheerfully as he nodded acquiescence to Durin's amendment. With surprising dexterity for his condition, he had a tray-full of ales sent to the table with one of the waitresses, who favoured Arachiel with a wicked smile as she set them down.
Simon considered his words slowly, still coming across as very cautious, especially in light of the Tengu's increasingly large group of companions.
Well, people here in the camp subsist on each other and the occasional travellers and merchants that pass through. Some make a living offering services as guides, but that's dangerous work. For every ten bands of adventurers or merchant caravan that tries to go into the Desolation, one comes back.
Simon took a moment to study the newcomers. I mostly stay out of trouble. I'm a good judge of character and I haven't ventured far into the Desolation itself. I live a simple life here so no one tries to rob me. Mostly, i'm just a very quick runner... Not a bad talent to have in this forsaken corner of the world.
Simon's eyes settled on Arachiel for quite some time before he spoke once more, much quieter this time.
Don’t trust the mercenaries and guides you can hire in the Camp. I think all of them harbour secrets and agendas that come before those they have been hired to protect. Ironically... I think the giants were the most trustworthy of the lot, though I fear we have probably seen the last of them.
Marcus and Kiri make their way over the tavern, unsurprised to find Zanzu getting to work and Durin having already established a tab.
With Arachiel and the tengu in conversation, Marcus sits down across from the dwarf and Khun-duhn while Kiri, making faces from the pipesmoke, lands on the table and idly summons a seven stringed lute from the ether which she then feels the need to tune.
The wizard speaks in a low voice.
Well we discovered the blacksmith is a power in town. Perhaps the main one. We need his bits to buy anything and the rates are well usurious. Vincent is talking to him now and hopefully not getting his back up too much.
There is a boarding house for accomodation. I should have enough to cover us for a while. Especially with this, he hefts the purse of discovered coin.
The giant belonged to a mercenary group called the Pounders. They left on some job and our welcoming committee is apparently what came back. There is another group. Previously no 2 in town. Now perhaps no 1.
So I think we need to find out what this job was and what if anything this second group had to do with the Pounders apparently bathing in acid. That on top of a standard information gather. Beyond the map we've got nothing and it might as well say "Dragons be here" in large letters.
Simon was polite enough to not overhear Marcus' conversation, or at least did a good job in pretending that he didn't. His eyes did settle on the Azata on the table before him though and he smiled softly, watching her tune the lute with an expression of contentment.
Well I can't say the idea of sleeping outside of your rope trick doesn't have appeal. The six of you together smell like an otyugh's bathroom.
Medium term we'll want our own base though. I don't need my magic to tell that half the people in this town would stab their grandmother for one of those bits. The other half would do it for free.
Durin uses his keen insight to gauge Simon as he speaks... trying to determine his trustworthiness.
As Marcus and Kiri enter the tavern, Durin boisterously waves them over and passes them an ale.
Durin listens with some interest to what Marcus has to say, and when Marcus produces the purse, Durin remarks, We are into the barkeep for 4 bits already...
Do we really care about the internal machinations of the "who-is-the-best-mercenary-group" in the Camp? Are we planning on using guides? It isn't our job to investigate the Camp... best not get too involved, at least not right away if you ask me.
At Kiri's admonishment, Durin lifts an arm and sniffs loudly. Sorry... that is just me lass!
Your finding it very hard to get a read on Simon. You don't think he has been dishonest though.
A bit of a lecturing tone comes into Marcus' voice. One you've heard before unfortunately.
I care about what happened to them before it happens to us. That giant, wounded, came close to doing you in with its fists.
No don't give me that face.
And whatever it ran into out there broke it.
I just want to make sure we're as prepared as we can be.
Another common theme from the wizard.
Durin begins to protest, Bah! That tickling he tried to give me? I've been in worse...
Do you think, that if this other group had something to so with the giant's recent troubles, they are going to confess it to us? We aren't anybody to them...
Probably not. But I still want to find out what business ended the Pounders.
Apparently realising an argument this close to strangers isn't wise, Marcus' leans back in his chair and sips his drink.
cough ... dear Gods of Heaven thats strong... cough
Well I can't say the idea of sleeping outside of your rope trick doesn't have appeal. The six of you together smell like an otyugh's bathroom.
Vincent laughs at the light-hearted comedy.
"Ah, but little lady. Nobles don't smell. Only those who cannot afford bathrooms." at this he turns to see the Half-orc and decides to speak. "My good man, do you perhaps have a well constructed room, suitable for a noble such as myself? I fear the young lady is right that us all packed into one room wouldn't be too good. I'd also like a bath and a serving girl to help see to it being a good clean bath." he gives a wink over to the man.
The Orc only grinned in reply but the waitress acting as his translator shook her head firmly.
No rooms here. Not enough space for the seven of us, let alone guests...
At the table, Simon cleared his throat a little as he stood up and prepared to vacate his table.
I can see you have much to discuss. I will bid you farewell, for now. My home is on the south-eastern edge of the camp, just past the market and south of the stables. A simple dwelling of tree bark, but it suffices. Good day.
Vincent rolls his eyes and shakes his head.
"Fine, I will take my money elsewhere." he says a little irritated at this and watches the Half-Elf leave. "A simple dwelling of tree bark? Tree bark is for druids and animals, not men of nobility." he explaims and shrugs his shoulders "I suggest we stay at the boarding house. It'll atleast have a roof and I'm sure the owners are nice people."
Perhaps but I think you might struggle to find any luxuries here Vincent, Marcus says dryly.
Vincent then shrugs
"It is a shame." he then turns to the rest of the group. "I believe Marcus has already told you what we've discovered so far about the Ogre. Something out there appears to have had driven him mad."
Durin slaps Marcus on the back and downs the rest of his own ale. Another round for me and my companions! My friend Marcus wishes to know if you have anything stronger for him to drink! Some food would be excellent as well!
And Vincent is right... nobles don't smell... they stink! They just don't know it 'cause their noses are so far up... in... the air...
Are you sure you don't want to stay Simon? Please accept my apologies for my companion Vincent here. He has forgotten his manners... since birth if memory serves.
After Simon leaves, Durin remarks to the others, Seems like a nice guy. And those are likely in short supply here...
Durin levels his gaze at Vincent, We would do well not to create more enemies in a place like this. We will have our fair share before long without the extra effort or going out of our way to disparage the locals...
Durin nods in agreement with Marcus' last remark. And once we are out in the Desolation, you will be wishing you had his dwelling of tree bark. Bet on it...
Khun-duhn stoically listens to his companions' banter as he silently sips his drink, trying to keep the foul liquid from dribbling down his wolfish snout as he studies the taverns other occupants.
Vincent sighs at Durin's comment and gives a nod.
"I doupt there will be much for us to do anyway, though that hillgiant having gone insane does disturb me. Do we have any other plans to do? "
Good that you bring it up...
Here we go he's just been waiting for this.
... hush Kiri. What we need is information. Anything to supplement this map. There are a thousand things we don't know but I'll state a few. Who occupies Tsar? Are its defenses intact? What is the state of the roads? What natural hazards can we expect in the wasteland? What settlements if any are there beyond the Camp?
And thats just for starters.
I doubt we'll just find somewhere here in the tavern willing and able to mark up our map but these people have lived on the edge of the Desolation for years. They must know something. And the rangers and others who have ventured inside must know more.
I suggest that we spend a day or two gathering what information we can. Then we can form a plan of attack, whether its to scout Tsar, travel the roads or explore the Desolation section by section.
Vincent thinks on this and adds.
"d be more worried about supernatural hazards than the natural ones, but yet these are all dangers we must prepare for. Whose to say the hillgiant's companions do not return, also equally mad and crazed. Perhaps the second group will return like that too. We must be vigilent and prepared." he rests his hand on the hilt of his blade "as long as we are prepared, we can cut down any threat we come across."
I am not sure what you have in mind Marcus, but I doubt information is going to come easily or for free around here. Especially about the Desolation, from the people who ply their trade out there.
But then you probably already know that... and have a plan. You always seem to...
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After Simon leaves, Durin remarks to the others, Seems like a nice guy. And those are likely in short supply here...
"Agreed. At least in here, the gnome seems to be particularly on the less desirable side of the spectrum."
"Given what we've seen of this 'Camp' so far, we certainly do not want anyone of use to go it alone gathering whatever information we can, but seem to have little choice but to break into smaller groups to learn what we can in the shortest amount of time possible."
Zenzu nods his head, in acknowledgment to Simon as he leaves, "You know Arachiel, you could be right. He must be pretty competent to live in this camp seemingly alone, I mean it don't seem real friendly." The tengu scans the bar and returning to face his friends he asks, "So we gonna find out about the giant or see what we can find about Bishu, like them holy men wanted. Theys said we get good treasure in the search for him, and I'd like to take back some real money."
Zenzu nods his head, in acknowledgment to Simon as he leaves, "You know Arachiel, you could be right. He must be pretty competent to live in this camp seemingly alone, I mean it don't seem real friendly." The tengu scans the bar and returning to face his friends he asks, "So we gonna find out about the giant or see what we can find about Bishu, like them holy men wanted. Theys said we get good treasure in the search for him, and I'd like to take back some real money."
"Getting some money would help a lot, especially if we find anywhere to spend it on equipment." he shrugs, not really caring if they waste time here or go out, but he'd certainly not like to stay around too long.
I am not sure what you have in mind Marcus, but I doubt information is going to come easily or for free around here. Especially about the Desolation, from the people who ply their trade out there.
But then you probably already know that... and have a plan. You always seem to...
Marcus nods. I have several, some short term, some longer but I'd prefer to know what resources we have available here before sorting through them. Most of them would be made more difficult if we alienate the locals though. So lets try not to do that. He glances at Vincent.
We may need to part with a few bits. And half of what they tell us will be lies and half of what they think is the truth will be wrong but we may just unearth something that will save our lives. Or at least help our cause.
Arachiel's idea sounds good to me. I can imagine most of the Camp will pass through here at some point so maybe some of us talk to people here for a few hours while the other half investigate the Camp?
I have one suggestion though. Which is to keep our ultimate goal to ourselves. As soon as we entered town everyone pegged us as adventurers and thats just fine. Adventurers explore dangerous places, do crazy things. We mention our true purpose and I reckon within a day we'll have someone trying to sell us a map to Lord Bishu's tomb.
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Arachiel's idea sounds good to me. I can imagine most of the Camp will pass through here at some point so maybe some of us talk to people here for a few hours while the other half investigate the Camp?
"Good. I will go out and explore what there is to see and hear in the Camp. I figure it would be best to systmatically search the area, arbitrarily starting in the southeast corner of our map and working our way around. Who is coming with me?"
Durin groans when the group decides to get to work. Downing the rest of his third ale, and finishing off the rest of Marcus' mostly full drink with a wink, he pushes away from the table. I'll go with you Arachiel He grabs a large hunk of roast goat to take with him before joining the paladin heading for the door.
Zanzu looks Durin as he suggests the course of action, "Oh you'll not leave me in here whilst you all go out and enjoy yourselves." he shuts his bill, uttering a clack of disappointment. "Might be an idea to cast our eyes over the Guest House, you know find the lay of the land. I think maybe Vincent and Khun-dun could torment the patrons here into letting out their secrets." he jokes.
I'll be Ok here with Kiri if you want to go with the others Zanzu.
Durin shrugs his shoulders between mouthfuls of mutton torn from the shank he carries. Do as you wish my avian friend, but I think the only enjoyment to be found in this place will be found here listening to Little K's singing. I would stay myself but Arachiel needs someone to keep him out of trouble. Durin smiles broadly. Or perhaps my proximity to endless amounts of ale would be detrimental to our stated goals...
I am sure that Marcus and K will be fine here on their own... as are you likely, if you wish to investigate the Camp using your unique skills... Durin gives Zanzu a knowing wink.
See? Marcus agrees. It is settled then...
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The paladin raises an eyebrow in response to Durin's comment, "You are going to keep me out of trouble?" he says shaking his head.
"What ever helps you sleep at night...other than vast quantities of ale that is."
"Shall we be on our way? Arachiel says to the dwarf and the tengu as he heads toward the door.
Durin laughs heartily. What does it really matter who keeps who out of trouble eh?
At the mention of vast quantities of ale, Durin casts one last mournful look at the table before standing up tall and turning his back on the array of food and drink piled upon it. Gesturing to the door he adds, After you my good sir!
As he moves to leave he throws one last comment directed at the barkeep, We are only taking a short break, we will be back to finish what we started later! Keep the ales at the ready! He laughs once more and ducks out the door with the others...
"Let us investigate this town. There are possibly many things we have not noticed yet about this town. Eitherway, I'd like to get to the treasure hunting as soon as possible." he says wit enthusiasum as e clearly doesn't feel too comfortable in this place.
As the others leave they hear the opening refrain of Kirilarien's song as the lyrakien's voice and summoned lute stretch to the four corners of the tavern.
The azata's voice is high and sweet. While technically excellent, a diligent music lover might detect something missing, some mortal quality or emotion that produces the very greatest of music. Yet the song carries within it a divine spark that no normal music can emulate. As the lyrakien sings the rough ale of the tavern tastes better, weary feet grow stronger, tension releases from tired muscles.
O' many years ago, under the mountains.
Lived a dwarf named Trig the Mighty.
Now dwarves love gold, as everyone knows.
But Trig's greatest love was for his pet pig, Ol' Whitey...
Ah crum! Now I am missing the song as well, Durin laments as he walks out of the tavern.
Durin lets out another hearty laugh before adding, Do you really think so?