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Flying above, Mr. Winky spots a glint of something sparkly from a small cave below. After informing Ozzy, the two eidolons go in to check it out.
Assuming they don't find any danger, Ozzy will follow.
By magical light emanating from her spearhead, Ozzy inspects the shiny substance within the cave. It looks familiar. She pulls out a gold coin to compare, and the color is a perfect match. Hey guys, I think somebody melted a bunch of gold pieces into this crack for some reason! I wonder if there's some way we could change them back...
Iorskan’s eyes lit up. ”Gold?! Where?” Not only was he bored, but gold resonated with something deep inside of him. Put the two together and he was ready to go.
Awn smiles at Ozara's summation of the provenance of the gold. For himself he knows the relative value of the stuff, but he also values it as a naturally occurring vein of minerals. Still, if his allies value it, it should be obtained - better them than someone else after all.
Sadly, he has little experience with mining and even less equipment.
The party breaks for the night, marks the gold deposit on their map, and starts again in the morning. You're woken before the sun by a howling and bitterly cold wind. Ozzy, with her low light vision, can see towering storm clouds on the horizon.
Looks like we'll be using the rules for a thunderstorm! Cool! You guys might be locked down in this hex for another day, cowering and seeking shelter, unless you want to walk in the rain. And the lightning.
Fortuitously, you just found a cave. So you'll probably be staying in that . . . which means we don't get to use the thunderstorm rules after all. Well, we'll all be impressed by the unbridled fury of nature some other day, perhaps when we have more hit dice and some cold weather outfits. Oh well. So, after spending the day waiting out the violent weather, you're ready to meet with the bandits!
You make your way out of the kanelands (the hills) and back into the forest. The icy precipitation and gale-force winds left a carpet of broken limbs for you to walk on. Broken tree limbs, not broken people limbs. Broken people limbs would be icky. But sometimes an adventure's got to do what an adventurer's got to do. Not today, though. Fortunately.
The bandit camp is in disarray. It looks like several of their temporary shelters have fallen down. Actually, it looks like more of their temporary structures have fallen down then they used to have. Their forces have swollen, the ranks filled out with unscrupulous-looking characters who are right now setting their tents back up, moping around with bandages, sleeping wherever the ground isn't wet, and generally recovering after a very violent storm that you guys waited out, quite undramatically, in what will one day be a gold mine, most probably.
The camp has also acquired a handful more horses and a very noisy dog. It runs at you, barks a bunch, runs away from you, barks more, runs back at you, barks, and goes off to fetch whoever it is that it's fetching. It fetched Happs Bydon, coincidentally.
"Lovely weather we've been having," remarks the ranger, who seems to have made it through the storm unscathed. "What've you been up to?"
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Awn takes a moment to look about the camp, comparing it to what he knows of how his own tribe functions.
"Staying dry," he quips drily.
Underneath his smiling demeanour, the woodborn looks for extra-unscrupulous looking characters amongst the ragged unscrupulous folk.
Immediate Action: Use second sight - add +1 to Perception check.
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Abaos smiles as Awn starts making jokes. "It's top- secret," he jokes. "One silver piece for the info."
He pauses, waiting for a reaction, then laughs. "I'm joking! For you, I'd never charge," he gives a sly wink as he does so.
"You do remember our small kobold friends from the last meeting? Well, let us regale you with a tale that will make bards sing, poets pen, and ladies swoon! A tale of grand adventure, of heroism, and...." he trails off, seemingly at a loss for words. "Well, let's just tell the tale."
He begins to relate the story of the kobolds, of traveling there and how Iorskan overthrew the wicked tyrant of the kobold camps, and how Ozzy thus ended the war between them and the mites.
"And the best part is," he finishes, all remaining parties are sworn to us, and will help us with our goals. Is that not wonderful? Now tell me, friend, how goes your journey?"
He begins to relate to Happs the accounting of the kobolds, and how Iorskan overthrew the
"Staying dry," Bright Awn dryly quips.
"Lucky you," the ranger shoots back, wetly. "Here I was all worried for nothing."
He listens to Abaos's story and laughs in all the right places. Some of the wrong places to. He laughs a lot. He's in high spirits, despite the weather.
"My 'journey'?" he looks around at the assorted bandits. "It's goin' pretty well. Hells, this'd be and this'll be most fun I've had in a long while." He shakes his head. "Funny as all hell: half the blokes here, they'd've been at each other's throats a year ago. When I came recruitin', most've them knew me as that bastard Bydon who killed whoever the f!~& I killed that they knew. Now we're all of us in one camp, and we're buddy-buddy with the kobolds and godsdamned mites." He looks up, smiling. He's in a pensive mood today. "Funny what good a common enemy does people. Stag Lord, he meant to "unify" all us thieves and killers. And bless his heart, he did."
Bydon laughs. "Anyways, we got ourselves fair sized army! B'my count, we got twenty-six solid sword hands, half that what know how to use a bow, but they were also counted with the sword hands, so don't count 'em twice, five horses, a mule, an ass, that'd be Townsend, and this yappy dog that don't know how ta shut up." He points at the dog. "It isn't mine. I don't know who it belongs to. But it'll be hard to keep all've them together very long. We've bin foragin', but we'll have to move on 'fore long."
Bydon grimaces before a broken-toothed grin breaks out again.
"Which's why I'm askin' ya a favor. Y'know our old friend Oleg? Last I've heard, he's still hanging on to our horses. When I was the trading post's guest, on my way out the door, Oleg was fetching a friend to heal the horses, magically. Now Kressel says the Stag Lord keeps a spell caster on a leash, caged under the castle. The caster, they can make good food out of nothing. I don't know much about magic, but we could use a foodomancer of our own. Maybe Oleg's friend can do that? Or even one of you, Awn, Ozzy, and there's some reason you don't usually? Failing that, we could use our horses back, seeing as that'd double the size've or calvary."
"Me n' Oleg didn't 'zactly part amicable-like, so I'd appreciate you goin' in between," Bydon understates.
Hearing that they are having food stuggles, Guthruc hunts down every nearby animal he can get his hands on (save horses and the dog). He then hands all but one kill (a bird) to bydon. I'm sure you can guess what happened the the bird.
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Abaos pats Bydon on the back.
"For the work you've done, certainly. That's excellent, Happs, more men then I'd have expected, honestly. I'll talk to Oleg, but I have been working on a solution to the food problem myself," he glances sideways at Iorskan "how do the men feel about radishes? Lots and lots of radishes?"
Happs nods at Abaos. "Step ahead of ya there. The men feel sick of lots and lots of radishes, but we're still eating them fast as they grow."
"If you mix the radishes with the dead creatures and boil them in water together, you can make the water go much further." adds Awn conversationally. He's looking at something with his usual naive grin and a glint in his eye, but no-one is sure what. Yet. The woodborn sidles over to Abaos and whispers in his ear.
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Abaos nods sagely.
With that, he smiles at Happs and asks "Well, in that case, we'll be certain to go to Oleg's as soon as possible."
He looks around. "Has my messenger arrived yet?"
Iorskan walked around the camp. He was happy. He was a lord! A god-king-emperor! And they had found gold. So maybe he could have a golden throne? Life was good. Now the humans and human-like creatures were talking. But that was beneath his notice. He had more important things to occupy his mind. Such as working on his roar. If he was going to be a large, scary dragon, then he'd have to work on it! Pulling himself up to his full height, he decided that now was as good as time as any to get some practice in.
"Yup, we got the kobolds and your letter. It's kinda hard to understand what they're saying, but it sounds like they're looking for Oleg's Trading Post. I told 'em to sit tight, and that you guys'd maybe take them there when you got here."
Iorskan decides to practice his roaring.
Nearby bandits quickstep away from Iorskan as he suddenly changes in their eyes from a curiosity to a dangerous magical beast.
"Uh," Bydon looks nervous, "Is he going to attack me?" he asks Awn, putting a few steps distance between himself and the dragon just in case.
King Sootscale's official finders come rushing over to meet Iorskan at the sound of his roar, talking over each other and asking questions about what happened to the mites and did they get through the lightning ok and is he going to take them to the trading post now and be reasonable Eadoo he just got here and it's been a long walk let him sit down and eat some radishes or maybe something else because dragons don't eat radishes do they?
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Abaos laughs at Happs. "Iorskan! He's fine! Just being friendly, is all. Wants ya'll to know he's here." He lowers his voice to a whisper. "That orc, though- just don't make him angry, ok? Or act like food. Or be in his way, in general. He kinda scares me a bit, truth be told- but I like him."
He begins walking, grabbing Happs by the shoulder. "Tell me, can we spend the night here? Help repair the camp, get some rest, then be on our way? I want some time to meet with the men, and with Kressel- maybe make an announcement tonight? what do you think?"
"Kressel!" Bydon snaps his fingers. "Forgot to say. She's taking the Stag Lord his monthly tribute, since longer old Staggy doesn't know squat, longer we have to prepare. We'll be takin' our coin back presently, and there's nothing much to spend it on in the mean time. That, and now everyone's committed, 'cause they need to get their money back." He looks pretty satisfied with that piece of cunning. "Took Scars and Pigeon with her, they'll be back soon. Storm probably slowed them down, so I'm expecting them tomorrow or the day after."
"I'm in charge while she's gone, an' I think if you want to meet the troops go ahead; we're relying on you and your friends' skills to win this, after all, and your little band's actually built up a bit of a reputation without you. Rumors grow with the telling . . . you guys are good for morale."
After realizing that he won't be of much use in conversation, he decides to start his warband a little early. He walks a ways up the river and on the bank of the river shouts as loud as he can, first in orc, then boggard:
"I, Guthruc Shic'la challenge any who hear my voice to one-on-one combat! victor chooses their trophy! Only cowards would refuse! Those with no honor, weaklings! ...If you think you are stronger! Prove it, Maggots!"
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Abaos continues talking to Happs.
"Excellent strategizing! I'll look forward to seeing her tomorrow morning. For now, spread the word- me and the gang will be giving an introductory speech at dinner tonight. In the meantime, we're going to get our tents set up, and then maybe take a quick nap- after that, we'll come out and help till dinner. Sound fair?"
He begins to walk towards the edge of the camp, and says to Bright Awn, "Come one, let's get our tent set up." He shoots him a knowing look.
Before he's gone too far, he quickly turns on his heel "Happs. Truly, good job. We may actually have a shot at this. Keep up the good work- I make sure good things happen to those who work well."
With that, he begins setting up his tent.
A couple of bandits come over to see why Guthruc is shouting at the water. They seem to be pushing a half-orc in front of him, though the green bandit is only putting up token resistance; if he didn't want to come along his sheer bulk says he probably wouldn't have to ... though Guthruc both taller and thicker.
"Go on," a blond-eyed bandit encourages, "you said he was looking for a challenge!"
"I gotta see this," a tall and red-bearded bandit claims, "but radish to wolf meat Dharak still wins."
The yellow eyed bandit is unconvinced. "Look at the guy. He's as big as a house. I bet he could rip Dharak in half!"
"It's not just who's got bigger muscles," the bearded bandit contests. "The way Dharak squeezes just kills your hand, it's awful."
The musclebound half-orc shakes his head. "You guys are crazy, but what the hell, I'm game. We gotta do this right, though, 'cause them orcs is all about ritual." "Guthruc Shic'la! I, Dharak Williamson, son of James Williamson, champion arm wrestler of this gods forsaken camp, do challenge ya to an arm wrestle, for honor and bragging rights!"
"Whadja say?" the blond-eyed bandit asks.
"I just challenged him to an arm wrestle," comes the response, "help me clear some room." With that, the half orc starts kicking at leaves and sticks on the ground, clearing a space for Guthruc and Dharak to lie down comfortably. A small crowd of bandits come to watch, and place bets.
Although the concept of a tent far surpasses Awn's need for shelter in the forest, he happily accedes and follows Abaos.
Guthruc grins and accepts the challenge. He lays down and lock arms with the half-orc. before the match starts, Guthruc makes one last comment: "I'll try not to break your arm, no promises though" Guthruc then proceeds to enter rage (not the freaky bird kind though).
then the match starts
alas, Guthruc unwittingly rested his elbow on a tree root, throwing off his game.
Guthruc doesn't realize the root until Dharak is already pushing, it's all the suprised and uncomfortable orc can do to keep from being immediately overwhelmed. Dharak presses his advantage by twisting Guthruc's hand in a way that's murder on his wrist, and raising himself slightly off the ground to put the weight of his entire torso on Guthruc's arm, slowly edging the full orc's hand towards the mud.
The power of Guthruc's +7 strength modifier breaks the discomforting root with a retort like gunfire. The crowd jumps, wondering if someone's wrist broke.
In one fluid movement Guthruc rotates Dharak's elbow in a way elbows are not meant to rotate, burrying the half-orc's hand and splattering onlookers with mud.
Dharak rises heavily, shaking out his arm, glad it isn't broken. "Gods, man, that was impressive! Uh," "Thanks for not breaking my arm! As victor of this solemn contest, you win both honor and bragging rights." He laughs. "You speak common?"
All around the bandits are collecting their winnings and coming to congratulate Guthruc. The red bearded man has challenged Dharak to an arm wrestle, on the theory that the half-orc is probably worn out from his last, but loses anyway.
Guthruc takes a breath and deactivates his rage. smiles and says:
"Guthruc speak not good common." in a thick orcish accent.
"you put up a good fight for a half-orc! a worthy opponent. It is a shame however, that i couldn't start my warband of orcs, boggards, giants, and such today."
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Abaos is shocked at Awn's whisper. "Let's hope he doesn't have magics as powerful as that," he says as he finishes putting up the tent, and enters.
"I'm going to give an announcement tonight, then we'll head back to Oleg's. When we go, we'll take three or four of the bandits there- including the skinny man. We can confront him further out, and see what he knows. What do you think?"
Awn nods.
"Good idea. It may be prudent to keep this between ourselves for the moment. Iorskan and Guthruc may attempt to eat him before we learn anything of use. As for Ozara, I am at a loss to ascertain what she might do from one moment to the next."
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Abaos nods. "My lips are sealed, he speaks, miming a zipper.
He indicates the tent flap. "Shall we mingle with the men, then? It'll be good for morale, and I think getting you out amongst them might help you spot anymore potential spies- though I hope there are none." He says this solemnly, wistfully, as if speaking aloud the words might make them true.
"Yup, we got the kobolds and your letter. It's kinda hard to understand what they're saying, but it sounds like they're looking for Oleg's Trading Post. I told 'em to sit tight, and that you guys'd maybe take them there when you got here."
Iorskan decides to practice his roaring.
Nearby bandits quickstep away from Iorskan as he suddenly changes in their eyes from a curiosity to a dangerous magical beast.
"Uh," Bydon looks nervous, "Is he going to attack me?" he asks Awn, putting a few steps distance between himself and the dragon just in case.
King Sootscale's official finders come rushing over to meet Iorskan at the sound of his roar, talking over each other and asking questions about what happened to the mites and did they get through the lightning ok and is he going to take them to the trading post now and be reasonable Eadoo he just got here and it's been a long walk let him sit down and eat some radishes or maybe something else because dragons don't eat radishes do they?
Quite pleased that his regal roars had attracted his loyal followers, Iorskan stood proud. He proceeded to tell them, in great detail, about the war with the mites. How their prisoner was freed, of how he had eat-murdered the great mite war-beast, of how the orc had ripped the king apart...and of course...about the great warrior Abaos. Of how he was a whirlwind of destruction! Of how mites walked over to him, only to fall apart in pieces. Iorskan instructed them to bring him a radish as a reward for his heroism in battle.
A radish is brought for the triumphant champion!
Zornesk is very enthused about the peace brokered with the mites. He keeps saying things about "a whole new market to exploit" and "do they really live in abject squalor, or is that just the propaganda?"
Nakpik wants to know about their magic powers. Does Iorskan know how they control bugs, and is it something anyone can learn or do you have to be born with it?
Is there anything in particular that you guys want to do before Abaos's scheduled announcement?
Guthruc will offer Dharak to go hunting with him. Guthruc will hunt for more food until the announcement is ready, chatting with Dharak if he joins.
Dharak is game, and pesters Guthruc for his adventures up to date. He also wants to know what the party's abilities are; so far he's got nothing but hearsay and evidence of Guthruc's fantastic strength.
For his part, Guthruc is happy to communicate with someone in a language besides his broken common.
The two of you find enough food to feed five people.
Guthruc recounts his time in the Mwangi Expanse and his great journey to the river kingdoms. He recounts his toughness in the boggard ambush and kobold liberation, his overwhelming strength against the mite king. He also gladly tells about the party abilities.
Never one to complain about his problems when he could be beating them into submission instead, when Dharak heard Kressel's lot were organizing a resistance he talked his band of merry men into joining, and has since established himself in the Thorn River camp as "Hands down, best arm wrestler save yourself, and best bare knuckle brawler save the Stag Lord himself. Gods. I don't even know if that guy's human . . ."
Mr. Winky is curious as to why Bright Awn went off to help Abaos set up his tent. Awn doesn't normally sleep in a tent, and it strikes Mr. Winky as incongrous. The shadow-child's imaginary friend takes to the sky, silently investigating what Awn and Abaos are keeping to themselves.
Abaos is shocked at Awn's whisper. "Let's hope he doesn't have magics as powerful as that," he says as he finishes putting up the tent, and enters.
"I'm going to give an announcement tonight, then we'll head back to Oleg's. When we go, we'll take three or four of the bandits there- including the skinny man. We can confront him further out, and see what he knows. What do you think?"
Awn nods.
"Good idea. It may be prudent to keep this between ourselves for the moment. Iorskan and Guthruc may attempt to eat him before we learn anything of use. As for Ozara, I am at a loss to ascertain what she might do from one moment to the next."
Abaos nods. "My lips are sealed', he speaks, miming a zipper.
He indicates the tent flap. "Shall we mingle with the men, then? It'll be good for morale, and I think getting you out amongst them might help you spot anymore potential spies- though I hope there are none." He says this solemnly, wistfully, as if speaking aloud the words might make them true.
Curiosity piqued, Mr. Winky goes looking for the spy. Awn mentioned a necklace, and hinted that it might have magic powers, so that seems like a good place to start. Knowing what he's looking for, the eidolon quickly spots the odd man out in the camp.
The bandits are a motely group, with non-uniform equipment and differing dispositions, trying to find someone who doesn't fit in might seem like a fool's errand to someone less detail-oriented, but Awn knows what he's looking for. He notes a thin and heavily tattooed man, and spots the gleam where a golden chain slips beneath his black leather armor. Incongruous jewelry is often magic. But more looking closer at the man, Awn grows more suspicious. His highly stylized armor looks dirty, like someone rolled around in the mud while wearing it, but it doesn't look worn. It's a subtle thing, especially as it's mostly concealed by the moth-bitten cloak the stringy man wears, but the armor looks well made and we'll maintained, as opposed to the rest of the bandits', equipment, which is neither. The man wears a rapier at his side, I can't tell you if the hilt is ornate as the man wrapped an old scarf around it. He isn't talking to anyone, and looks no one in the eye, instead lurking on the fringes of conversations and keeping a low profile.
Mr. Winky does not relay every bit of the conversation to Ozzy, but does mention where Abaos and Awn can be found. He does give Ozzy a description of the possible spy, which is enough to worry Ozzy. She immediately goes to where Mr. Winky indicated that Awn and Abaos were to tell them all about the possible spy that Mr. Winky has discovered, his gleaming necklace, and his fancy but dirty armor.
What do you think we should do?
Awn smiles without guile.
"Abaos has a plan. It requires the kind of stealth and cleverness that you have, and also patience. We will enjoin the slim tattooed man to accompany us to Oleg's and en route waylay and question him. I'm sure Mr Blinky might come in useful in the scaring department." Awn warms to the task.
"So far, I believe only your good self, I and Abaos are aware of the spy. It may be prudent to ensure it remains that way lest our hungry and impatient friends eat-murder him before we find out what he knows and who might have sent him..."
Don't forget Mr. Winky. He's the one that told me! Ozzy says, excitedly. Then, thinking for a moment, she adds Should I scan him for magic? The spy, I mean, not Mr. Winky.
"A good idea in principle. But perhaps not in...execution. Only do so if you can accomplish the divination without the possibility of being detected." Awn looks to Abaos for further advice.
Right. Ozzy doesn't hesitate. She casts Detect Magic while in the tent with Awn, then heads out while concentrating on the spell to scan the spy while looking around as if she's trying to find someone else.
After the conversation with Ozzy, in which Abaos is curiously silent (he simply smiles devilishly the while time), he heads out amongst the men. For the hours intervening between now and dinner, he helps the men set up camp, move twigs, hammocks, gather supplies, etc, all the while laughing jovially and telling jokes. He marvels at the many men here, and laughs as if they were his own.
However, once dinner is ready, he smiles and meets with his friends, the group he knows the best. He eats mostly silently, pondering the decision he's about to make, mostly just listening as the rest talk.
Finally, he stands up.
"I'd like to thank you all for being here," he starts off, "but to be honest, you all probably just came for the food, right?" He waits for a laugh.
"Yeah- I get it. Good news is, we're going to fix it. You've all heard rumors of a foodamancer that the Stag Lord has. Well, I can't tell you if this is real or not, but we're going to find our own- and barring that, we'll steal his right from under him!
What the Stag Lord doesn't know is that we've got 26 of the most able- bodied, clever, skilled men in the lands, standing with me here today. 26 men, plus me and the gang, here, and our kobold friends (he indicates Nakpik et al) that spell doom for the Stag Lord!
Too long has he been reigned here! This is free lands! We don't pay taxes for what we steal- we rightfully stole it, and you can't steal what's rightfully been stolen! We go to take it back- and before too long, we will, I promise you that.
What we have here, well, this is the start of something- I don't know what it is, but it's going to be big. Something much bigger than just taking down the Stag Lord. For when the men of the Greenbelt unify, we do it right!
I've lived my whole life by one principle- do just enough not to get noticed. I'm sure some of you have to. But I'm asking you, right here, right now, to stand with me, as we create whatever it is we're going to create. Because, whatever happens, this doesn't end small. This ends big, and the the world will notice. And respect us."
He waits for the crowd to stop, then pulls two packs of cards out of his pocket. "In light of this achievement, me and the gang are traveling to Oleg's trading post to find our foodamancer. We'd like to take a few of you with us, but most of you are needed here. So, I've divised a plan." He begins walking towards the crowd. "Everyone, take a card."
He as he walks, he makes certain that the spy and Townsend get marked cards.
He heads back to the group, and pulls a second pack of cards. He opens it, and says "When I call your card, step up." He shuffles the cards, and says a quick prayer that he thinks he remembers hearing somewhere, but can't- something about the goddess of luck guiding his hand or something.
He then flips out the two marked cards, calling them, and waiting for the men to step forward. He then pulls out the third random card, and waits, eager to see all who step forward.
Awn smiles a lot as usual, not really trying to be helpful or particularly amiable beyond being a treeman and obviously out of place in his element. Which is strange. Or at least it would be if everything wasn't always fairly strange anyway. Though he could try to assist Abaos with the regaling and general winning over of the gathered brigands and bandits, he feels that altering the flow of fate by just a fraction might help more.
Immediate Actions: Three uses of second sight to make it Diplomacy 28, 23 and Sleight of Hand 16.
Ozzara's divination detects a minor aura of evocation emanating from the thin man's rapier, a moderate aura of the same school emanating from his necklace, and a moderate aura of conjuration coming from a satchel he wears at his side. And a minor abjuration aura from the armor itself.
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Abaos's rallying speech is given to cheers and applause. His promises of things to come after the fall of the Stag Lord make victory seem more real to them, and his promise that the group will stick together after their immmenent victory makes the assorted and unified bands more willing to treat each other as comrades and friends. They feel like a team.
Abaos hands out his cards, giving marked cards to Townsend and the suspected spy.
Abaos can't tell if the thin man noticed the trick, but Townsend certainly did. He mimes locking his mouth and throwing away the key, which makes you wonder what he thinks you think he thinks.
The third card winds up with Dharak, for detail conservation purposes.
The cards are called and the three men step up. Townsend looks eager and nervous, wondering why you planted him in this group but willing to play along. "Hey guys," quoth he, "Lucky all of us getting randomly selected together, amiright?"
Dharak agrees. "Looks like we won't be parting ways just yet, Guthruc," he says, "Though it's a pity we're a party so big; nothing'll attack us so I won't get to see you in action! No, I'm guessing it'll be a quiet trip."
The thin man, conscious of the crowd's eyes on him, moves quickly to where the others stand, making no objections and trying to keep a low profile, cursing his luck. "Let's certainly hope so," he mutters in response to Dharak's conjecture. His voice is clipped but polished, vaguely menacing but at no one in particular.