Suny happily shows Caln the interesting things she's found. (^_^)
"Whut d'ye think 'Sparkly powder' be for, then?" She asks Caln, leaving Jethro to his troll ministrations, clearly puzzled by the two bags with Elvish writing on them.
Well there goes the neighborhood says arwen in an attempt to humor when he sees the scalpel and what Jehtro intends to do with it.
He will stand by the group looking alert for any sign of trouble.
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"Leave, then, before I give chase. If I ever see you again I'll take your hands and ankles and leave you to die in the wasteland beside the corpses of whomever you stand with."
Ausk steps aside, letting them escape. Afterwards, he returns to the others, sharing the information he's managed to pry from the orcs.
Marco simply spits on the ground, then turns to Ausk.
Well, looks like we may get more than we bargained fer.
Well there goes the neighborhood says arwen in an attempt to humor when he sees the scalpel and what Jehtro intends to do with it.
"I just hope my face doesn't go with it." muttered Jethro, as he and Suny tried to lift the massive, rubbery head enough to make the maneuver practical. Which, of course really meant that Suny did almost all of the heavy lifting under Jethro's careful, er, "supervision."
Jethro carefully stabbed the troll in the point Verne had indicated, ready to jump back at any sign of convulsions or reflex actions.
If this procedure is successful, he'll deal appropriately with the other two as well. And then see if he can coax Caln out of a Create Water spell and clean the gunk off. Eewwww.
Suny happily shows Caln the interesting things she's found. (^_^)
"Whut d'ye think 'Sparkly powder' be for, then?" She asks Caln, leaving Jethro to his troll ministrations, clearly puzzled by the two bags with Elvish writing on them.
"I'm not sure. Let's see if it is magical..."
Caln says a short prayer to Pharasma asking for insight (Cast Level 0 Spell Detect Magic).
Looking down at the group located by the trolls, Gryndar takes a swig of his waterskin - pearls of water hanging onto his well-kept beard. Deeming that Ausk and Marco can handle themselves, seeing as how he has not heard any screams or yelling, he ventures back down the slope and joins Jethro's group.
"You boys, and lassie o' course, find anythin' interesting?"
He notices what Jethro and Suny are up to, and flinches for a second.
"Now I don't know how you elves and half-gnomes handle yer dead, but that sure ain't somethin' I want ye to do to me if I catch the sharp end of a blade!"
Leaving the bag in Caln's care and having helped move the trolls for Jethro to continue his ministrations, Suny skips over to this new comer -Her pleasant smile as always upon her features.
"Hey-YA there!" She greets him brightly thrusting a hand forwards "M'name be 'Suny' in'a speakin' of tha' peoples." She introduces herself. "How might you be called?" (^_^)
"Well, I'll offer you a deal. You promise not to mutate, growing bone in unnatural places, and killing people even after you're dead, and I promise to treat your corpse with all the respect and kindness it merits." Jethro looked up at the dwarf. "I'll even make you the reverse promise, if you like. I didn't feel like fighting these gentlemen as well."
"Of course, if you want to start digging a hole, I'll not stop you. Firewood for a pyre seems in short supply around here, though."
Gryndar grabs Suny's hand firmly, having grown up with humans in Freedom Town - he held no ill will for her kind.
"Gryndar Grogslayer, deputy! Pleasure to make yer acquaintance!" His broad smile easily revealed through his beard.
As he releases her hand, he leans to one side to address Jethro.
"Hah, if I be sproutin' bones on me forehead - yer welcome to torch me up proper - but no guttin'! I've been working on this belly o' mine for many years, and I wouldn't like to see all that hard work be for nothin'!"
He laughs heartily, resting his left hand on his belly to accompany his words.
"Aye - you never know with trolls, lad. If I had me a shovel, I'd dig ye a hole - but one fitting for these gents would take the remainder of the day I'm afraid."
Suny smiles happily at Grynder's response, turning and skipping back over to see what Caln has made of the pouches. (^_^)
Caln, as you open the bags for a closer look, carefully, you recognize the dusty gray powder as Flash Powder.. The translation from Elven to common isn't perfect. Flash Powder, you are aware, is often used as part of a stage performance in the civilized world, creating a bright light suddenly that is fantastic as a climax to a series of tricks.
In more rough-and-tumble areas of the world, however, it has a different purpose. When thrown directly at an assailant or pursuer, the powder's flash is sufficient to temporarily blind them, allowing for an escape. Some spellcasters also use this powder as a material component when their magic involves a high amount of pyrotechnics and bright lights. All of this is common knowledge, no check needed.
When Suny and Jethro heave the troll over, it is with some relief that they detect that the troll is still unmoving. It seems as though the dogs - whether by instruction or instinct - savagely tore out the affected areas that Verne warned you about, and these trolls were all given the same treatment. Their bodies lie inert.
Jethro and Suny, standing right over the troll's body as they are, are close enough to see something unusual left behind in the wound that the dogs made at the base of their skull. Stuck inside the troll's flesh is what appears to be an enormous surgical needle that is pointed upward toward the troll's brain directly. If you reach inside to fish it out, your hand comes out absolutely disgusting, but you also realize that the syringe is made from clear glass-like stone, very unusual-looking.
Meanwhile, over at the butte where Ausk concludes his interrogation, the orcs quickly beat a hasty retreat.
They quickly disappear over some hills, but Marco is able to see that when they leave bowshot range, they change direction, heading toward the direction that Ausk has been guiding the party - southeast, toward the ruins.
Ewww. Fascinating, and I'm sure Doctor Verne will love to know these details, but still,.... ewww. Jethro pulled out the syringe to examine later at his leisure.
After a few seconds, he straightened up. "Welcome, Deputy Grogslayer." He raised his hand towards the wide brim of his flamboyant hat, then looked at his hand and thought better of it. "Jethro, arcanist and golliard, at your service. And also, apparently for my sins, the latest member of this motley collection and damned to find himself up to the elbow in bits of troll I didn't even know existed. That was some very good shooting a few moments ago, and very greatly appreciated."
"Do you know anything about alchemy? Suny and I may have found something very interesting indeed...."
"Can't say that I do, Jethro. And thank ye for the warm welcome!"
Gryndar smirks broadly at the goo-infested hand, nodding politely in return.
"'tis a pleasure to meet the both of ye. I've been aching to get out of Freedom Town either way, and bringing some well-deserved justice down upon some of these Orcs suits me just fine."
He looks down at what Jethro is trying to show him, but looks puzzled at the sight.
"Can't say that I do, feller, but show me a trap or a locked container - and I'll get it open for ya a'fore the bat of an eye!
Caln walks over to where Jethro is working on the trolls. He looks on in fascination as the clear stone syringe is removed.
"Jethro, Suny found this flash powder. I think you can make better use of it than I." Caln hands the flash powder bags to Jethro.
"Ooooh, spark powder. Yeah, that's good stuff. I used to use it to annoy the druid. Nothing quite like seeing the explosions when his mistletoe grove would get decorated on midwinter night. And by the explosions, of course, I mean his reactions to the decorations."
"Thank you very much. By the way, could I trouble you for some washing water? I seem to be covered in unmentionable bits...."
Arwen is looking around for sign of trouble while the news guy's look over the bodies
No sign of trouble on the horizon, Arwen. Off to the west where the orcs fled, you can see Ausk and Marco walking back together.
The sun continues its slow trek toward the horizon, and you can hear cicadas beginning their twilight song all around you. Sweat from your rage earlier runs down into your eye as you look around you, and your weapon feels heavy in your hands in your fatigue. You can feel your strength returning, however.
Overhead, birds with large wingspans, vultures and other carrion feeders, have begun to circle the massacre below, drawn by the smell of blood. A scorpion emerges from its den near your boot and crawls across the sand. It seems that now that the scuffling is over, the local animals are going about their normal business.
Suny declines the offer to actually insert any of herself into the dead trolls. More than happy to allow Jethro this honor. (^_^)
At Caln's and Jethro's correct use of the 'normal' word inscribed upon the bags, Suny blushes seeming embarrassed about something.
She does peer inquisitively at the small, sharp pointy thing Jethro has managed to extricate from the downed troll.
Eventually Suny moves over, closer to Arwen...though her interest seems slightly more upon the horses than anything else.
Marco walks with Ausk down the hill, and as they come across the others investigating the Troll bodies, Marco notices the newcomer. He sticks out his hand to the dwarf.
So, you are the mystery ally? I am Marco, and you would be?
Still leaning over the troll corpse, Gryndar's eyes are quite focused on the discovery Jethro an Suny made - barely noticing Ausk and Marco's approach.
As Marco's words reach his ears, he turns to face him - almost struggeling to release his curious gaze.
"Ah, there you are! The two of you made quite the chase after those foul-lookin' fellars. Seeing as how ye return empty-handed - I reckon they escaped? Oh, where are me manners!" He wipes his sweaty palm on his thigh, then extends his hand in greeting. "Gryndar Grogslayer, deputy to the Sheriff Oswald of Freedom Town. I am to assume Hakiri's position in yer fine group, as she's been given the guard duties previously assigned to your's truly." He smiles proudly, his hands grasping his belt. "How fares yer journey so far?"
Ausk sighs weightily, dusting off his hat before returning it to his head. "Find anything?"
"Possibly. Does `Weird Trolls Are Weird' count as a finding? If not, help me clean the gunk off of these syringes and tell me what you make of them."
"We also got some vendor trash, but there may be something important I missed. I don't recognize the tribal symbols on the arrows, for example -- which just means either that there's at least one tribe of orcs somewhere in the world that I don't know about, or else that there's at least one orc somewhere in the world that's not affiliated with a tribe. Either is possible. A third possibility is that it doesn't matter a half-cup of warm spit what tribe a dead orc used to be part of, and I'm simply wasting my time."
"But I'm glad to see you back safely. I infer that you didn't find anything, either?"
"Thank you very much. By the way, could I trouble you for some washing water? I seem to be covered in unmentionable bits...."
"Jethro are you ready for the water yet? If so, feel free to use the water in my water skin to clean with." Once Caln receives an affirmative he pours the contents of his water skin upon the filthy extremely tall gnome. Then he draws upon the power of Pharasma to Create Water in his water skin.
"Gleah. Putting the 'ick' in 'ichor,' I suppose." Jethro cleaned himself as best he could (possibly asking Caln to refill the skin a few times). "On the other hand, I think that was informative. Someone obviously knows something about those strange trolls; I don't believe for an instant that the dogs to go exactly for the brain stem. Which actually makes the question of tribal affiliation of those orcs rather relevant. I don't suppose any of you gentlemen -- sorry, or, or you either, Suny -- have any ideas?"
"At greater urgency, however, is the question of sunset. I don't relish wandering into an orcish settlement at nightfall, but I don't really like the idea of spending the night here at Chateau de Trolle either. What's the plan?"
Indeed, the sun is continuing to move toward the horizon. Ausk and anyone else experienced with this area knows that the ruins where the orcs dwell is not more than an hour's march from here, putting you right on the border of where that tribe commonly wanders and hunts. Traveling closer will put you at risk of being detected by scouts and spies. You have about two hours of sunlight remaining - the sky hasn't yet begun to change color, but it's getting close.
We need to make camp, without sleepin' too close to the Orcs. Ausk, I'm assumin' you can pick us out a good spot?
"Are we planning on lighting a fire tonight, or just spending a really cold night?"
"Depends on the scoutin' we do prior to lighting one, Jethro. We should take a look around, wouldn't want none of those fellers to notice our camp, do we. I suggest we move away from this area though, seein' as how these two obviously allowed the Orcs to escape and warn their fellows." Gryndar flicks his thumb towards Ausk and Marco.
"I suggest some of ye start workin' on a camp - and me 'n Ausk take a stroll ta'e see if we're bein' watched 'n if they've got Scouts out 'n about. Agreeable?"
Marco stares at the newcomer.
Watch yer tongue Dwarf. You know nothin' about what we did up on that hill. Those orcs we chased down were no part o' where we are headed.
Gryndar takes a step forward towards Marco, waving his finger upwards at the man.
"Aye, that part be true - because the two of ye haven't told the rest of us yet, have ye. I'm assuming you let them go, as the sound of battle would've reached us, or the fresh stains of their blood would be coverin' ye both if ye attacked and killed them."
He steps back, shakes his head and sighs.
"We've got to stay focused at the task we're set out here to do, aye? All I'm sayin' is that havin' murderous Orcs escape back to whatever holes they sprung out of - might set the mission itself at risk. I'm simply bein' wary, as the rest of ye ought to be as well."
Marco shakes his head.
Ausk, care to explain to 'im why we let the Orcs go?
It is a bad idea to camp in open territory this close to potential scout patrol and reinforcement. We should press on toward the orc camp. after all we came for that sole reason didn't we?
"Possibly because you're not bloodthirsty sociopathic killing machines? I hope that fits into the list of reasons somewhere..." offered Jethro as he looked up from his pile of troll-junk. "Not that it matters this instant. We can discuss it at length when we're safely abed."
Suny stands, watching the sun set from under a hand held across her brow. She wiggles her toes absently in the sands as she awaits the group's decision about where they are going to spend the night.
"I used most of my healing magic during the battle. A night's rest would be helpful before we confront the Orc village but if the group wants to move to the village now I will do my best to keep you alive."
"Are we expecting a fight? I thought we were going there to ask questions. Pass around a bottle, listen carefully, and learn a few things."
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Ausk casts a cold eye on Gryndar.
"They surrendered and lost their honor. They told me what they knew and I spared their lives. If they've decided to prove me wrong, they know exactly what I'm going to do to them."
To Jethro: "We might as well be expecting a battle, but it's possible they'll be peaceful and we'll simply trade with them. If anything, I'll have to throw my weight around and then we'll proceed as normal. At worst, it'll be an all-out battle from the start, and then we're picking through their corpses for clues on account of the fact they ain't got the sense to just be friendly."
With a shrug, he shoulders his hammer. "Let's go, then, Gryndar. You and the murderous orc all alone in the desert."
"Everyone else-- start work on the camp. Try to find somewhere secure-- no flat land, no ridges or ravines, an even middle."
Suny skips along with every one else, offering to help lead the horses.
And probably ruining the more subtle attempts at moving quietly by talking., laughing and possibly even giggling at/with the horses or any one else in random seeming conversation.
Marco keeps an eye on the mounts, gathering those not in use, and tethering them to one another, preparing to picket them when the campsite is eventually found.
"Everyone else-- start work on the camp. Try to find somewhere secure-- no flat land, no ridges or ravines, an even middle."
Nothing that stays level, nothing that goes up, and nothing that goes down. Got it. "I'm on it."
"Only thing better than a dead orc is a dyin' orc, that tells ye where ta'e find his mates." Gryndar responds towards Ausk's remark, slightly smirking - making it hard to tell if he's being serious or not.
He makes sure he has a bolt ready, as Ausk strides off - then hustles after the towering half-orc, winking towards the rest of the group as he leaves.
Caln will pitch in and help set-up the camp. He begs off taking a watch so he can concentrate on his prayers.
Suny, in the middle of telling a fascinating story about her youth among the Sea Elves (dancing with dolphins and telling riddles to crabs, or something) spots a nearly-hidden path that leads between two enormous hillsides. She leads the way, stepping cautiously over the rocks and leading her horse with confidence, until you find a clearing that has a prevailing view over the entire countryside. Down in the terrain below, you spot a smallish group of ancient buildings, worn and weather-beaten - the ruins that Sheriff Oswald described. If you stand near the edge of the cliff and look down, you see a small trail that leads to your left down the hillside and toward the ruins, as well as the occasional movement of indigenous orcs on patrol. None of you see any orcs that appear to take any notice of you, for you are in the shadow of a rock overhang above that shields you from the sun.
Jethro, you spot a faded drawing in one corner of the clearing, about twenty feet from where you all stand, on the rock wall. It's barely visible. No one else appears to have noticed it.
"Oooh, this looks like a good spot. With a wand of fireballs I could this town."
You all see Jethro spot something and move closer to it as he trails off the end of his sentence. He moves over to the edge of the clearing you're all standing on (which is about 20 feet across by 20 feet wide, so not huge) and kneels to examine it, as the drawing is very low to the ground.
The natural paints used to make the drawing appear ancient - much of the drawing is faded by time. You can make out what appears to be a singular humanoid figure - race is impossible to tell - with its arms raised, standing in front of what appears to be a small crowd of people with their arms raised as well. There are also some small figures on either side of the crowd who appear to have their heads lowered and clutched in their hands in gestures of lamentation or pain. That's all you can make out. Studying the old paint gives you a minor headache, and you can feel a faint buzzing behind your eyes that lasts as long as you stare at it.
Jethro holds his palm up, almost but not-quite touching the rock face, and says some strange syllable. Again, the world seems to shift slightly, like a pinball player rocking the table.
The rest of the deputies see Jethro's eyes gain a faint white outline of magical power as he utters the syllables of his spell. He studies the painting for a moment, before glancing down at the floor beneath it. He reaches his slender fingers toward the seeming rock floor, and his fingers sink through it. He plucks out a scroll that is wrapped up and secured in a transparent glass scrollcase that looks fairly expensive. He also pulls out a small leather pouch that clinks with gold.
Jethro: you spotted the stone floor immediately beneath the drawing as the glamer it was, and it became a transparent outline covering up a small alcove naturally carved out of the rock below. You detect a faint abjuration aura on the scrollcase. The leather pouch looks ordinary, if old.