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Blayne will heal the Instrument from his wand...
"let's get somewhere safe! "
-Posted with Wayfinder
The Pathfinders collect Sharrowsmith’s satchel and quickly conclude that it’s a fine time to leave the kobold settlement. The miners are both eager and happy to do so, which gives them the necessary energy for the climb out of the valley, where the miner rescued from the devouring plants waits on the ridge top. She is amazed and relieved to be reunited with the others, and the Pathfinders must endure another round of emotional gratitude before their charges are willing to set off.
Though it is an exhausting slog back to Fort Bandu, there is far less urgency than on the journey out. On their return, a surprised Praetor Sylien greets the Pathfinders, ”You’re back, and with so many rescued! I’d never expected so many to survive, scarcely even dreamed of it – though I hoped, of course.” He shakes hands all around, with rescuers and rescued alike, clearly very relieved not to have had all the miners lost on his watch.
As the miners tell him what happened to them, and the daring rescue that saved them from the sacrificial altar, Sylien exclaims, ”Why, this is fantastic! Striking a blow against the kobolds shows that Fort Bandu can and will defend its territory and its people. It’s unfortunate that there wasn’t a way to negotiate with the kobolds, but they’re not often interested in such things – at least a show of strength will show them we’re not to be trifled with. That’s a message the kobolds can understand, and it should reduce the likelihood of future raids.”
Inquiring after the fate of Sharrowsmith, and learning of the journal discovered in the kobold village, Sylien is able to offer some useful information. ”The Krihirik? That’s a grippli tribe, that live in the Kaava Lands just northwest of the Bandu Hills. A member of the tribe visits the fort several times a year to barter for goods and gems, and he left just yesterday morning.” He pauses and says, ”While that may be good luck for you, less good is who followed the grippli. Amersanus Valacosti abruptly wrapped up his business at the fort and departed in the same direction only a few hours later.”
”If you’re going to find the Krihirik and recover this relic, which seems to have some power to neutralize the Golden Guardian— especially if you want to get there ahead of the Aspis Consortium— you’ll have to make haste for the Kaava Lands!”
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Once back Torriki takes his time to carouse with the miners, so that he is REALLY in their good graces, then he'll go over to shmooze leadership. After the ordeal they've had, they could definitely stand to have an investor who actually cares about mutual profit and benefit (which requires miners to come home alive...) Once he concludes what the Mining Company needs the most he tries to work out a deal with the Exchange.
Sharrowsmith’s Journal, for reference
After resting a night to regain their feet and stock up on supplies, the intrepid Pathfinders set out once again on the trail of Venture-Captain Nieford Sharrowsmith and the mysterious ‘Golden Guardian’ mentioned in his notes. The journey from Fort Bandu to the Kaava Lands is oppressively hot, but it gets easier as the days go on and the terrain transitions from rugged foothills to open grasslands before giving way to dense jungle.
Following the directions from Fort Bandu’s garrison captain, it is not difficult to find the Krihirik village, which lies approximately ten miles inside the jungle’s border— and twenty feet off the ground. Narrow rope bridges connect a few dozen tree-dwellings overhead, forming a small but secure community. Bright-skinned, bulging-eyed gripplis go about their daily business nearby. Crates and sacks of trade goods litter the jungle floor, and several gripplis busily inspect a bundle of swords, throwing down their spears and nets in favor of freshly forged steel. A blue-and-brown-skinned grippli in practical traveling clothes bounds forward and holds out his webbed hands in welcome. “More visitors come to trade with the Krihirik? You are most welcome here, though I fear we have little to offer at this time. Or perhaps there’s some other reason you came all this way?”
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"Aye." The vulpine featured man smiles easily, though there isn't much charisma to the expression. "I am, in fact, interested in trade. Unfortunately today, it takes a carriage seat to what my friends are asking."
Torriki will take a genuine look at the trade good before continuing, "We were led to you originally on the word of that friend Bastion mentioned, Sharrowsmith. Supposedly some dwaves in an age long past delivered something to you. It's an orb of some power. Does that ring a bell?"
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Thanks Blayne! Instrument had a wand stowed in a wrist sheath, so Blayne could use that once and Instrument would take care of the rest on his own.
OK, I'll reduce my uses by 2 charges, but it's not a problem either way. I almost backed out of combat to heal you up, but kept hoping I'd get a decent roll and....
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Looks like the Aspis folks traded them some steel weapons. I wonder how far ahead of us they are? "
-Posted with Wayfinder
”Ah, so many questions!” the grippli exclaims, but with reasonable courtesy in his voice. ”Let me see how I can help. I, by the way, am Gwellik, a trader of the Kwikirik tribe.” Noting Torriki’s interest in the trade items he’s busily unpacking, he says, ”Nice to see someone with a good eye for quality. But I’m afraid I’ve only just completed a trading mission – which is why I’m both worn out and very busy - and returned from Fort Bandu with what you see here, for my people to use. And I fear I do not know this name you mention, Sharrowsmith.”
Turning to Wayne, he continues, ”But I am quite familiar with the people you refer to, members of the Aspis Consortium, no? They journeyed with me from Fort Bandu, but stayed here only briefly before traveling on.” At Torriki’s mention of the orb, Gwellik perks up with interest and says, ”You must come with me, to see the Krihirik elders!”
He calls out in a language of burbles and chirps, and several gripplis scamper around amidst the branches overhead before lowering a tall ladder from the trees to the jungle floor. Gwellik ignores the ladder and climbs effortlessly up the massive trunk of a tree and turns and waits for the others to ascend.
Once everyone has made their way up into the trees, the true village is visible. Rickety rope bridges connect half a dozen grippli tree houses to one another, though to the north many more appear overgrown and abandoned. One dwelling is larger than the others, and hangs over a small pond. Gwellik waves the party forward, leading them through the doorway of this larger tree house. Inside, three gripplis with mottled gray-brown skin pass a finely crafted short sword back and forth with admiration.
”Pardon the interruption,” Gwellik says to the elders, ”but I bring yet more visitors who may be of help to us.” He adds a few quick words in the challenging language of the grippli, including a phrase that involves extending his tongue some six inches out of his mouth while making a cough-like sound in his throat. Then, with a surprisingly formal gesture for a blue, yellow and green-skinned frog man, he introduces each of the elders, ”Mother Bogwynne, the lorekeeper and chief elder; Finyik, the hunt-master; and Diblop, the chief brew-mistress and miracle worker.”
With the introductions complete, Mother Bogwynne, the largest of the gripplis, slowly gets to her feet and hands the sword to the trader. “Thank you Gwellik. You have done well in our time of need, bringing both weapons and travelers from afar to lend aid to the Krihirik.” She pauses and looks over her guests in the meetinghouse. “So, Gwellik says you seek a weapon to fight against the guardian of the Bandu Hills? Word of our tribe’s secret seems to have reached many ears of late. The Krihirik have such an object, but it is a treasured possession, entrusted to us long ago—one we could not surrender lightly. However...” She looks to Finyik, the hunt-master, whose old bones creak as he gets to his feet to speak.
“We are fewer in number with each season, for we are hemmed in by enemies on all sides. Those who would seek our remaining weapon would do well to bring us one in return, and this is the same opportunity we gave to those who came just before you. Travel to Deepblood Ridge, where two beasts of the Kaava Lands reign, and bring back one or more of their eggs. These we can nurture as our own, far from the hungry talons of the lizardfolk, who fear the beasts and would eat their young. Do this while surviving the dangers of our forest home, and you shall have our gratitude and our respect.”
Finyik sits down, and Diblop, by far the oldest and grayest of the three, speaks without rising. “The great scaled ones are mighty creatures, the king and queen of the Kaava Lands’ many beasts. But the lizardfolk—may curses haunt their breed to the ends of the jungle— chased them off, leaving the nest vulnerable. Now is the time to strike! Those who can defy the lizardfolk and aid us now will be most fit to wield the weapon the dwarves gave us so long ago and end the vile guardian’s threat once and for all.”
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"Dwarves, again?! What is it with dwarves in the Mwangi?" A realization suddenly dawns on the Taldan and he hurriedly fumbles for a map in his side pouch. "We are in Garund, right?"
"Well, no matter," he declares. "What can you tell us of this guardian? What is it? What about these ridiculous dwarves, can you tell me about them? Where did they go? When did they give you this 'weapon?'"
The elders listen to the many questions thrown at them, then each answers according to their own areas of knowledge. Mother Bogwynne, speaking of the orb, says only, “If you prove yourselves worthy, we will tell you of its story – and of the dwarves that gave it to us - and how to use it. Of the guardian of the Bandu Hills, we know nothing but rumors that it exists and we fear that it might come this way.” Looking to Torriki, she replies to his offer, “We Krihirik have suffered much at the claws of the lizardfolk in recent years. With so few warriors left, we can appreciate a stranger’s help, even if it would not normally be our way.”
Finyik provides a bit more information about the beasts at Deepblood Ridge. “Your kind calls them dinosaurs. They are the mightiest creatures for miles in any direction, dangerous and untamable. The lizardfolk must have suffered great losses in chasing them off. Deepblood Ravine is a handful of miles away,” he concludes, holding up a four-fingered hand tipped with small suction pads to illustrate his point. He describes the route to the ridge and the ravine below it, then adds, ”But the other explorers already have a head start, and they’ve got the same goal, so you should waste no time!”
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"ugh. Aspis."
After Wayne's question is answered, Torriki claps his hands. "I'm ready. Let's do this. "
-Posted with Wayfinder
"You will not need nets to catch eggs, for they move very slowly" Finyik replies to Wayne, his froggy expression showing some skepticism about the group's hunting knowledge. "As far as other help - you wish to show you are worthy of carrying our tribe’s treasured weapon. Then you must be quite capable of handling yourselves and completing this task… and if not, then it was simply not meant to be.”
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"I wonder how the Aspis got ahead of us on this - without the clues we found what do they know?"
"Thank you for sharing this information and giving us the opportunity to aid you. We'll return with one or more eggs for you."
Blayne is ready to travel and eager to get on the trail and catch up to the Aspis...
Finyik holds up two hands and cups them in the air, moving them around to illustrate a sphere about the size of a large grapefruit or very small watermelon. He gives Blayne a gracious nod, then makes a sort of shooing gesture, reminding everyone that some haste is called for.
Knowing the Aspis agents have a head start on them, the Pathfinders set out right away for Deepblood Ravine and their beaster egg hunt. The jungle canopy shades the understory during the day, casting the ground in dim light even at noon. Some parts of the wilderness are especially dense with vines, tree trunks, and broad-leafed plants that try to soak up what little light reaches the ground. Other stretches are relatively open thanks to the relative darkness. Blessedly, the jungle here is a bit less humid than other parts of the Mwangi Expanse, and the risks from heat are less than might be expected.
The Kaava Lands teem with wildlife, from squawking birds and stinging insects to humongous trees that form the dense canopy above. Vines, roots, and large-leaved plants cover much of the ground. The gripplis’ directions lead northwest through the dark, virtually trackless terrain. The myriad sounds of the jungle grow louder, and the undergrowth grows thicker, as the Krihirik village vanishes into the distance. Though none of the party are especially trained to survive in such a place, Bastion, Blayne and the Instrument move effortlessly through the terrain, finding the easiest path as if they were born to it, as Torriki and Wayne follow along. In addition, their sharp eyes spot several tracks left by their rival explorers, which include at least six man-sized humanoids and a curious set of smaller tracks, left by a barefoot humanoid missing two toes on the right foot. With the surprising wilderness skills shown by some of the Pathfinders, the edge of the ravine appears in a scant two hours of travel through the wilds of the Kaava Lands.
About four miles from the Krihirik village, the terrain suddenly drops off into a deep ravine. The far side of the ravine is sixty feet away, and the craggy cliffs on either side descend one hundred feet to the ravine floor below. The gap in the jungle allows a glimpse of the sky above, but the trees grow to the very edge of the ravine, and their dense canopy still blocks out much of the light. Several of the trees have massive, shaggy-barked trunks sporting countless twisting limbs. The trees’ strong roots grow deep into the earth and some even dangle over the side of the ravine.
As the party considers the best route down, it’s clear the opposite side of the ravine is too far to attempt to reach in any useful way. But as the Instrument looks across the chasm, he recognizes the foliage of a particular tree, then realizes there are quite a few of them on the near side as well. The giant tree’s roots make an ideal climbing aid, but the tree also poses a potential threat. It is a monkey tree, a common but subtle hazard in the Mwangi Expanse, as its bark and roots contain concentrated oils that react upon contact with skin or leather to create an overwhelming, spicy odor. The oil itself does no harm, but it does make one’s presence in an area almost impossible to miss – a true hazard in a land so full of predators.
It is possible to climb down while avoiding contact with the monkey trees, but it will make the descent harder.
After stripping off armor and creating safe anchors with their ropes, the party carefully descends the cliff-face, avoiding all contact with the monkey trees. After safely reaching the bottom, they put their armor back on and continue in the direction given them by Finyik. Fallen trees, rocky streams, hanging vines, and other obstacles litter the ravine floor, making travel through this area just as difficult despite the sparser foliage. After several hundred feet, the terrain gives way to a natural trail running through the middle of the ravine. In most places the trail is a mere five feet wide, though it widens to fifteen or even twenty feet in some areas. The ravine walls and the distant canopy still block out most of the natural light along the path.
Where the path narrows again, a humanoid corpse—one hand stuck in its vest as though desperately trying to reach for something—lies sprawled in the dirt next to a thick, thorny plant. Countless biting ants swarm over the corpse, making its features difficult to discern. As the Pathfinders come close enough to make out the insects crawling over the body, it appears the ants have detected the new arrivals as well! As one, the swarming creatures come to a sudden stop, then begin to move again, heading toward the party!
Wayne and Torriki's throws are accurate and many ants are burned to a crisp. Many of them survive, but they scatter in all directions as the swarm disperses! Only the far swarm remains.
The Instrument’s throw misses by a country mile, causing a stand of trees to hiss and steam as the alchemist’s fire burns itself out on the wet jungle foliage. The far swarm of spiders rushes toward the party, the red-tinted ants scurrying across the ground, looking like a pool of boiling lava somehow moving to attack! They are just able to reach Bastion and climb all over him, crawling into gaps in his armor, scurrying up his kilt and viciously biting the soft spot in the backs of his knees!