Jen nods. "Yeah, can't speak it, though." She casts a speculative look at the sullen orc and adds, "Although, Guthruc prefers to communicate with his fists, anyways."
She gingerly disembarks from Anura, reefclaws dragging out behind her, and rather unceremoniously dumps them in a pile near Ozzy and Guthruc.
"My burly friend. Is your kind nest harmed?"
"It's cold and wet," Auchs snivels.
The blue-skinned mage glances at Auchs. Her interactions with him have admittedly been quite limited, but she sees, suddenly, that, despite his size, he really is like a small child in mind and heart.
"Here," Jen says, warmly. She moves closer to Auchs and lays her hand on his skin. The river water drenching the giant from head to toe slowly begins to dry off.
"Thanks," Auchs smiles.
The reefclaws squirm in their bonds , chittering in what's presumably their own language.
Guthruc stands between the reefclaws and the rest of the river.
"Can understand Guthruc?" the orc asks in authoritative tone.
"move one whisker no, both whisker yes"
Guthruc stares at the whiskers moving around in the water and comes to a realization.
was that an actual response, or just natural movement?...
He rearranges the gestures to clarify.
Actually, move one whisker yes, both no. Can understand Guthruc?
Jen wonders if detect thoughts might serve the dual purpose of translating and intimidating. She moves closer to Guthruc and opens her spellbook to quickly skim over and memorize the spell.
The reefclaws wriggle one whisker, leaving the other stationary. Communication has been achieved!
To further facilitate understanding, the party's primary caster prepares to cast.
Jen can read the surface thoughts of fishes one, two, and three (and learns their intelligence scores (3), though presumably not in game terms). Right now they're angry and scared and dry, and above all else, confused. This is the first time that any of them have ever been interrogated, in fact, the concept is a fairly foreign one to them.
Iorskan, realizing that he wasn't quite ready to go to sleep, rose up and stretched like a cat. If a cat was the size of a full grown man, had wings, teeth that could bite through steel, and was covered in scales as tough as chain. He ambled on over.
"So...what? Are they part of the army we are building, or do we eat them?"
Awn looks at them doubtfully.
"I have little faith that they are interested in contributing meaningfully to a confederated kingdom of sentient creatures. I think they eat, reproduce and die. Locally. I'm not sure that extends to travelling, nor joining in...anything beyond that.
He looks up at his companions.
"What do you think?"
”Eat, reproduce, die. Isn’t that what peasants do?” Iorskan asked expectantly. It was his first ‘joke’ as humans called it. He hoped that he was doing it right.
"Right you are, Iorskan," Jen says, smiling slightly. Turning to address the rest of the groups, she adds, "I think that, if we could encourage the eating and reproducing, we could create a vast force of water-based guardians. Let's at least see where this goes."
The reefclaws, she realizes, live in a predator-and-prey world, a world where you're eaten or you eat, or, if you're unsure whether or not you can hunt and kill you opponent, you strike out an uneasy truce. And, so, as she continues to eavesdrop on their thoughts, Jen puts the negotiation in the reefclaws' own terms:
"Two choices," she says. "Serve us and kill our enemies... or we eat you." The threat is backed up by a gesture towards the toothy-mouthed dragon beside her.
Guthruc chimes in to bolster Jen's point. "not mention, Guthruc and allies leave plenty food in wake. You eat good if join warband. but yes, if no join Guthruc and Iorskan eat you alive while others watch."
Awn's lips purse and eyebrows rise in appreciation of the concept as outlined by Jen and Guthruc.
"I admit I had not considered the military value of our waterways. We feed them, they fight. They eat, they serve. We kill, they eat. I think it benefits us all..."
Give me an intimidate check!
Iorskan, feeling confident at having told a joke, tried to smile. By showing all of his teeth. People liked seeing teeth. It made them relaxed. It was just that his teeth were quite sharp, and were obviously designed for eating creature like reefclaws.
At Iorskan's winning smile, the reefclaws are cowed!
Once made to understand that they won't be eaten if they make themselves of service, they experience an emotion whose closest mammalian analogue is some mix of anticipation and anxiety. Jen would be hard pressed to describe it in plainer words than that. She also learns their names, as they converse amongst themselves, but they aren't names speakable by any creature that uses mouths to communicate, and they don't seem to map onto translatable concepts, either. She also finds that the reefclaws are somewhat worried that their means of communication only goes one way.
So, join warband? Guthruc says confidently. He enjoys the creatures submitting to his strength. New tools in his expanding collection.
The reefclaws agree to join your warband. Agonizingly slowly, they follow the increasingly menangerous party towards adventure and a place carved into the histories of Golarion!
And by agonizingly slowly, I mean it's actually kind of painful to watch. They move one five foot square with every action. Hardly an insurmountable problem, but it's not the DM's place to make suggestions.
Awn watches the reefclaws.
"I am unsure that they are particularly ready for war, nor our band. Perhaps "riverine militia"? "Wardens of the mesic zone?" "Aquatic guard?"
Awn looks to his companions.
"Perhaps they stay here and guard this most tactical redoubt."
Guthruc considers Awn's wisdom. "Awnt have good idea." He turns to the reefclaws dragging themselves accross the sand and mud.
Return to water. No attack those who cross arms like this:"
Guthruc demonstrates the newfound salute.
"Means they ally. Do same to show that ally. Tell other of you to join. Otherwise, do as wish, but Guthruc and ally like if recruit more and guard river."
The reefclaws agree to do so.
"If run and ignore Guthruc, you and kin will regret. Much to gain from warband. Food, safe, ally, protection, more." he turns to his allies. "anything else?" he asks.
Returning focus to the reefclaws, "you with or against us and growth."
Oh yeah! Our empire is gonna rule everywhere these rivers go, and everyone in them is gonna be in our army or is gonna be food for our army. Tell your friends! Ozzy pumps her fists in the air and grins broadly.
Jen takes five seconds to swap out Daze for Ghost Sound.
Her strides being about 6 times as long as the reefclaws', Jen quickly outpaces them to stand between them and the river. She stares them down and says, coldly, "You take our mercy for granted?" A display of power is called for, she decides, so she mutters a few words under her breath and then declares, "I know your thoughts. If you so much as consider betraying us I will know. If you even entertain the notion of abandoning our cause we will kill you."
She brings her hands together in the loudest clap she possibly can, amplified times 16 so that it comes out as the hollow boom of a crypt slamming shut. A searingly white bolt of lightning flashes behind her, illuminating the sky and turning her to a silhouette in the reefclaws' eyes.
Iorskan yawned. He didn’t see the enjoyment of scaring the creatures, but it made his friends happy. And, he supposed, there was value in that.
Jen observes via magic as the reefclaws slowly wrap their minds around the concept of actions contingent on other actions. Revenge is as novel an idea to them as coercion is.
The reefclaws agree to your terms.
. . .
The party ventures further from the river, deeper into the forest. Bright Awn recognizes every tree and rock - this is home. Any moment now, he expects a warm welcome home.
Hiding in the brush roughly a hundred feet from the party are two elves, one of which just cast a spell.
From his forward position, Mr. Winky spots a pair of elves, one of whom is casting a spell. He relays this information to Ozzy over their link, and without showing sign of alarm, she calmly informs her allies, speaking softly to ensure that her voice does not carry back to the elves.
Awn holds up a hand, as much a warning to his friends as a sign to his kin. He calls toward the forest in a loud clear simple voice in Common, as if addressing an army.
"Somar! I am well. Be wary though, these I travel with are an incredibly dangerous and powerful group. Together, they...we... ended the Stag Lord and have built a nation of many creatures - humans, mites, kobolds, and at least one ogre - Auchs the Kind. " [here indicates Auchs]. "We travel now to the boggard lands to free them from infernal dominion."
Awn smiles, then cups his hands to his mouth before adding in Elvish:
"Tira po kal. Diath dinaan ko falais kerelembeta ti obma fa kanon. Fa, fa kanon."
"Be very careful. The orc and dragon eat sentients and the group is crazy. Very, very crazy."
Awn turns to his friends.
"I've let them know we are not altogether logical and have interesting dietary requirements."
And smiles.
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Abaos winks at Bright Awn. "Why don't you introduce us then?" He smiles a small, sardonic smile, and adds "Generally, us crazies don't talk to trees, but hey, everyone has something, right?"
With that, he bounces right up to the nearest tree, extends his hand, and says "Welcome tree! I'm Abaos! I'm the mighty slayer of many mites, and have come in peace! Tell me, what is your name?"
Jen figures that speaking to the elves in their own language will foster goodwill, so she calls out,
Iorskan looked around expectantly, hoping to see an elf. They didn’t sound tasty...all skin and bone. But that didn’t necessarily mean they lacked flavor. He hoped they were hostile.
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Guthruc spoke up about what was sure to be on some of the party's mind. "Worg raid Mwangi elf sometime. Little meat, much magic. Said meat taste like deer-rabbit with hint of dragon-fey and lots of exotic herb. Ear supposedly delicacy."
With that, he bounces right up to the nearest tree, extends his hand, and says "Welcome tree! I'm Abaos! I'm the mighty slayer of many mites, and have come in peace! Tell me, what is your name?"
"Careful," Bokken warns, "this deep in the Greenbelt, trees are liable to answer you."
This one doesn't, though.
Iorskan looked around expectantly, hoping to see an elf. They didn’t sound tasty...all skin and bone. But that didn’t necessarily mean they lacked flavor. He hoped they were hostile.
Sadly, they come in peace. The two elven sentries approach the party. Amrymm and Somar have as little in common as is possible for a set of identical twins. Somar, the sorceress, wears bright colors and swings her arms as she walks where Amrymm, a ranger by vocation, wears greens and browns and moves like she's trying not to call attention to herself.
"Somar Xyrdithas," the spellcaster introduces herself, and, gesticulating wildly at her sister, introduces her too: "and this is my sister Amrymm."
"Hi." Amrymm's hands don't stray far from the pommels of her swords as she eyes the cannibalistic party warily.
Somar opens her mouth to address Bright Awn, but before she can -
"And I am Zornesk!" Iorskan's herald proclaims. "Herald of Lord Iorskan, chief among the Official Finders of the Sootscale Kobolds," His Taldane really has improved. "I look forward to many years of prosperous trade between us."
Amrymm looks down at him. "Right."
Nakpik begins untangling herself from Abaos's backpack as Somar expounds. "We aren't in the market for . . . markets. I speak neither for all us Narlmarch elves, nor for the Assembly that does, but if there is any one thing one which there is a consensus, it's that we'd like to be left alone."
Zornesk takes about five second to digest this. "Left alone? That could be arranged, if the price is ri-"
"Excuse us," Nakpik apologizes, dragging Zornesk away to have a hurried conversation in draconic.
Iorskan’s stomach growled at the description of elven meat. This was disturbed by Zornesk‘s heraldring of his glory. He puffed up with pride at the announcement of his titles, mightily pleased with his subject. Even as Zornesk was dragged away by those with cooler heads and sharper minds, he looked at them with paternal pride. They were his kobolds, the most prized of all that he controlled.
The problem seemed at the moment to be that the elves wanted to be left alone. And nothing about them indicated that they were even worthy of hearing his majestic voice. So he waited, to see if his friends would give the word that he was waiting for.
"We aren't in the market for . . . markets. I speak neither for all us Narlmarch elves, nor for the Assembly that does, but if there is any one thing one which there is a consensus, it's that we'd like to be left alone."
"Well," Jen says, "Be that as it may, Awn has been a long time out of his homeland. And I think the rest of us would be interested in meeting your people."
She turns to Somar, "Perhaps you're not interested in an exchange of goods, but what about an exchange of magic?"
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Abaos suddenly turns as two tall, beautiful elves step out of the shadows, almost as if stepping from the trees themselves! He rubs his hand against his head sheepishly, and smiles.
"Jen is correct. We've traveled far, and would love safe lodging for the night. If that would be ok with you, Somar, Amrymm?"
Awn's smile is wearing so thin it almost isn't. His jaw...hurts. This is so incredibly interesting, and yet he feels it almost might not be if blood starts to spill everywhere or eating happens.
"Somar - Tuar and Naia, my parents, are they well?"
“Your parents are well,” Somar assures Bright Awn. “Except that, as you might have guessed, they worry for and miss you terribly. Sometime after you left as our envoy, the humans became yet more aggressive - ” Akiros looks distinctly uncomfortable “ - under the direction of a terrifying man who wore the skull of a stag. We feared that you’d come to some harm.”
She turns to Somar, "Perhaps you're not interested in an exchange of goods, but what about an exchange of magic?"
“If you came alone, I’d welcome you and your shared culture and knowledge, happy to share as much of my own as you would find useful. But you are not alone, and you do not represent only yourself. Even as we stand here and speak, trappers and traders blaze trails through the Narlmarches, and behind these trailblazers those less intrepid travel the ways they’ve opened. I am but a youth, and while I have not and will never stand atop a mountain and see one forest unbroken as far as the eye can see, as my grandparents did, in this past century that I’ve walked Golarion alone vast stretches of sacred and untouched wild have been touched. And you humans . . . humans and demons alike destroy all they touch.”
“Jen is correct. We've traveled far, and would love safe lodging for the night. If that would be ok with you, Somar, Amrymm?"
“We’d be happy to have you.” Amrymm states in a tone of clinical detachment. “Any friend of Bright Awn’s is a welcome guest.”
For the first time Iorskan spoke. ”Stag Lord? We ate him.” He motioned to his Orcish comrade, for it was a shared feast. Not that these elves deserved to hear his voice. They couldn’t even eat trappers and traders. Pathetic. But it annoyed him to still hear people being afraid of that man after he had already been devoured.
in this past century that I’ve walked Golarion alone vast stretches of sacred and untouched wild have been touched.
"Ak sep earqu hsikts beneaqu kahl'iy pra'k, hsikt kahl'iy paji. Ten ak kahl fajtl, kahl ha ces."
"Worg proverb. Mean if world change, worg change too. If not, worg will die."
With this, Guthruc grabs his club and heads into the woods.
"Guthruc hunt for food."
Abaos smiles, and takes a step forward to the elvish ranger. "Wonderful! Many thanks. Tell me, do you play cards?"
He begins untangling a deck of cards from his belt.
As it turns out Amrymm doesn't know how to play any of the human variants Abaos knows, but is willing to learn. Give me a diplomacy check to shift her attitude one step closer to helpful, and a bluff or profession: gambler check with a +2 bonus to see how many gold piece you win off her while she's still figuring out the rules.
"Worg proverb. Mean if world change, worg change too. If not, worg will die."
Somar wonders who this orc is, who knows worg proverbs and travels with Bright Awn is. "There's an elven proverb, diametrically opposed. 'Accept decay and you commit to it,' they say. If always you change to other's whims, you might persist but nothing you value will."
With this, Guthruc grabs his club and heads into the woods.
"Guthruc hunt for food."
After a long while searching, Guthruc happens across the tracks of a deer with a crippled leg. Liking his chances of catching up to the unfortunate ruminant, the adventuring orc follows it's trail. Unfortunately, predators' minds think alike, and when Guthruc catches up to his quarry he finds that a pack of wolves got there first.
Fortunately, the wolves aren't suicidal enough to stick around when Guthruc rushes at them with club in hand, and he gets his meal to himself.
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Abaos is quite happy to teach Amrymm the human variants of the cards he knows; and while her stoic silence is slightly off-putting, Abaos fills the space with tales of his adventures, many of which involve cards, taverns, or both. He also shares what little of the world he's seen since waking up in the desert so long ago; really, he's traveled quite well in his adventures.
He's also quite pleased with how the game turns out; a combination of Amrymm's lack of experience and his own innate luck playing a part in him winning quite handily.
You win 3 gold and 3 silver!
Awn feels a great sense of...something. Something definitely confusing, if not just confusion itself. Time has moved, and so has Awn, but returning to the Narl puts him out of phase, as if time itself has been taken and he with it, for to return feels like stepping back...in time. Or something. Confusing. Awn responds in his usual manner - he smiles a broad smile and hopes no one notices...anything.