Seeing the boggard, the elf tells his companions what he knows of those creatures: They normally live in a clan-village composed of mud mounds on the banks of large rivers or in marshes.
Being amphibious creatures they can hold their breath for a really long time and have no troubles navigating around swamp and the difficult terrain within.
They also have a natural weapon with their sticky tongue.
So far this boggard seems to be alone though, clad in a sturdy leather armor, a scimitar at his side.
Over the distance you now hear some croaking coming from the larger building.
"Keep me covered."Queslin gets closer. He calls out to the boggard from a 'safe' distance, "Well met."
"DAMN THAT ELF!!" Agerron curses to the others. "I thought after the last time we were going to discuss as a group how we would handle situations like this! Are we a team or just a bunch of individuals traveling together?! Ridiculous!"
He readies his longbow with an arrow, and prepares to fire and charge should the situation warrant it ...
Xanda leans over and whispers to Agerron,
"But Queslin is taking the risks of venturing out first. If you have issues with his meeting people, maybe you should volunteer to go places first?" she suggests.
Xanda leans over and whispers to Agerron,
"But Queslin is taking the risks of venturing out first. If you have issues with his meeting people, maybe you should volunteer to go places first?" she suggests.
Agerron's face turns red as he twists towards the impertinent woman. "I would hold your tongue when you try to speak of that which you clearly don't know squat, half-breed! He's a scout, he's sneaky. That's his job! Diplomat, on the other hand, is not! Deciding for himself to go off and try to talk to an evil and vile race without talking with us about his plans first is stupid, reckless, and frankly, selfish. Had he told us his intentions, we could have made a better decision. We don't yet know if there are others nearby, we don't know what they're doing here, and we don't know the layout of the area. Now, we are forced to improvise should it become violent, and if there are others, we are all now in significantly more risk than we otherwise may have been. At the very least, we could have strategically deployed around the area to better cover him."
Agerron spits on the ground and narrows his eyes. "And if you ever accuse me of cowardice again, you had better ensure you are fleeter of foot or quicker of spell than I am with my blade."
Xanda just looks back at Agerron after his chat, her face still neutral and calm.
As she looks out into the darkening swamp around them.
Shortly after the call of Queslin, the Boggard turns the corner of the building again, one hand on the hilt of his scimitar, but not drawn yet. The Slurk is out of sight as of now though.
Squinting at the elf, and looking for more people, the Boggard raises his free hand, asking croaked "Truce?".
"Truce." Queslin motions the rest of the group forward as he walks closer to the boggard. He does not reach for his weapons but makes no particular effort to keep his hands away from them either. If there is a good place to sit once he gets close, Queslin will sit down. Pointing to himself then the boggard, "I am Queslin. What is your name." He is more trying to determine if they have a language in common than gain any real information.
Big Ern settles against a tree trunk and mumbles, "Nap time."
Xanda smile s slightly at Ern's antics and moves into a better position of offer the big man cover against anything else locally in the swamp that might take an interest in him.
Bran nods with Ageron. "Aye, we need to talk before we act. Going to talk is not a bad thing, doing it without a real plan is." He keeps his weapon pointed at the creature. " If it looks like it is willing to talk and be a civilized being, I'll go and talk with it as well. But it sounds like it is not alone and this might be a set up"
Seeing the others emerge from the forest, it is clear that the Boggard is uncomfortable with the number of people.
He keeps a good distance away from you, replying to the elf's introduction with the same gestures, pointing to the elf and at himself: "You Ques? Me Garuum."
Pointing to the remains of the roof of the larger building he also seems to introduce the slurk, that shows itself now with: "Slurk Ubagub. Truce. You go."
He concludes, pointing to the woods with his right hand (back the way you came), his left still on the hilt of the scimitar at his side.
Queslin tries giant, goblinoid, and draconic to better communicate with Garuum.
"We are exploring. Can you tell us of the area?"
Even trying other languages (which the frog-man doesn't seem to understand), Queslin is unable to get much out of the Boggard, besides his plea for truce and his demand to leave this place. He isn't hostile towards the group, but seems content to defend his little realm against trespassers.
The slurk clings to the wall and roof of the building, just as well waiting for a signal to attack anything the Boggard points out.
"We could skirt his area and continue on. he doesn't seem to be too dangerous."
Xanda nods at Queslin's report, then indicates the sleeping form of Ern propped up against the tree near by.
"I'm not going to poke him..." She adds.
'He seems to not understand us, But I agree he does not seem Hostile. I Vote we leave him be for now as well."
"Yeah leaving him may be for the best."
Xanda laughs,
"I was indicating waking Ern..." She explains, then she laughs some more and tries sharing a look with Majet, an impish grin upon her features. XD
Big Ern isn't asleep, he's just bored.
Leaving the Boggard and Slurk for their own, the group returns to retrieve their horses and ride around the area, moving towards their next goal, the Kamelands and the Stag Lords Fort at that.
In doing so, they change their general direction of travel from west to south, or south-east.
Getting away from the Boggard's lair, the forests floor gets more dry again and come nightfall you find a good place to rest once more.
"I'll be sure to come back and check on Garuum to make sure he stays a good neighbor."
Fort save for Big Ern:
LOL!
** spoiler omitted **
We do need a protocol for such encounters though. What do you suggest?"
Another night goes by pretty much uneventful, though you hear the loud croaking of both Boggard and Slurk nearby. They do not disturb your sleep much though.
Throughout the night you hear heavy breathing from Big Ern, and come morning, the enormous man looks really pale, between the red blotches that cover his skin.
Xanda rises and goes through her morning ablutions. Upon noticing the poor state of Ern she frowns.
"I think we should get him back to Oleg's for some better healing and rest..." She bites her lower lip slightly, as her concern shows.
Big Ern moans. "I don't feel too s&%@-hot. I think I'll head back to Oleg's and rest for a while..."
He manages (barely) to drag himself into the saddle and point himself in the direction of the trading post.
"We should go back."
"And do what? Wipe my ass? Hold my wang when I take a whiz? I appreciate the thought, Leafy Joe, but don't feel like you have to on my account! Why don't you finish up your chats with frog men and kobolds, and call me when you're ready to chop some bandits into a fine paste? I should be healed up by then."
Xanda tilts her head,
"You are thinking you will make it back to Olegs. This idea when you can barely make it into your saddle." She sighs at the attitude of the fellow, but shrugs. "But still...given you are sick, maybe having friends beside you to help you do things is a good thing, no?" She asks.
Big Ern turns to Xanda and feigns ignorance.
In Giant-ese:
"They're right, Ern. We should go back with you. Both Bran and I should be treating you; not sure why I never bothered to get the proper supplies for healing. Back at Oleg's, we should be able to scrape 'em together to help you out."
Having discussed the situation arising from Big Ern's progressing disease, you decide to ride back to Oleg's Trading Post, take some time off for the man to get back to his height.
Riding north-east you don't take the same route, but you still make good progress. You don't quite make it to the Thorn River camp, but find a dry place in the forest to set up another camp for the night.
Having the campfire going, you attract 2 people shouting a greeting to your camp from afar: "Oy! You be the group hunting the bandits here, aight? Mind sharing the fire?"
Obviously your presence in the Stolen Lands gets known, as well as a description of your group. A pair of hunters awaits your response.
Xanda waits for others to respond to the strangers hail, though she takes time to look around the surrounding forest.
"I have told Ern his uncleanliness will do him in, but I do try >' Bran says to no one in particular.
"Greeting's! My the light of Adabar shine upon you." Brn says, scanning for trouble .
Perception
Big Ern grumbles irritably and scratches the red spots that cover his body.
"Greetings! Come in, add to the fire and tell your tale."
Agerron sighs, and whispers to Queslin before the hunters are close enough to hear. "By the gods, elf, do you just assume everyone out here is planting daisies and watching rainbows? We should have ventured out to meet them first, before inviting them right into camp."
Agerron puts a smile on his face, and calls out, "Venture in if you be friends! We'll share our fire, and what we have, though it isn't much."
Agerron tries to assess the hunters' motives as best he can.
sense motive
"No, actually, but they are already here." Idrian moves out of the light of the campfire. "Call of nature. I won't be long." You may now make your Sense Motive rolls to figure that he's actually going to scout the area.
Perception +2 v Humanoid (human)
Stealth +2 v Humanoid (human)
Survival +2 v Humanoid (human)
The quick looks into the surrounding forest tell you that the two are the only ones save yourself. Even Queslin's scouting of the area reveals no other humanoids.
The two seem to have been lucky enough to hunt down a young deer, and they bring the tender meat out to share it with you. They tell you that they are on the way to Oleg's, bringing some fur and hides with them to sell to the man, as well as some early plants and herbs.
They don't have too much else to tell, living their lifes in the wilderness for the most part, hoping to one day be owners of a tavern.
As everyone shares the meal, Agerron breaks out one of the bottles of liquor we obtained before .
"Heading to Oleg's? We're on our way back there as well. Since there's safety in numbers, you're welcome to come with us, if you'd like." He takes a long drink from the bottle, and passes it to one of the hunters (names?)
Boris and Pjotr seem really glad to gain companions to travel with.
"We always dreaded to go back, as we either needed to pay toll to the bandits at the Thorn River ford, or go further south to cross that old damn unstable bridge. Now though..." Boris smiles, Pjotr taking over: "Yeah, them bandits dealt with, we be savin time an gold, thanks to ye. Ya'all be doin a great good thing, takin care of them cutthroats."
The hunters seem to have been working together for quite some time now. They are too close in age to be father and son, their facial features too different to be related in blood.
Wearing leather trousers and vests, soft leather boots and fur coats they are geared to withstand cold weather. They also have bows (Boris a composite shortbow, while Pjotr has a longbow), quivers with some arrows each, and each a shortsword and a long knife.
Queslin returns without a word and gives Agerron the 'ok' before sitting down and joining everyone for the meal. He asks the hunters if they have a preferred area and asks if they can describe it to him to help them map it.
Queslin makes an early night of it as he plans to take the last watch.
"Ah, Bandits are a scourge on all that is civilized. It is our honor and duty to Adabar to see them dealt with. One way or another. Are you having any luck with your hunt?" Bran asks from around the fire.
Boris and Pjotr seem really glad to gain companions to travel with.
"We always dreaded to go back, as we either needed to pay toll to the bandits at the Thorn River ford, or go further south to cross that old damn unstable bridge. Now though..." Boris smiles, Pjotr taking over: "Yeah, them bandits dealt with, we be savin time an gold, thanks to ye. Ya'all be doin a great good thing, takin care of them cutthroats."The hunters seem to have been working together for quite some time now. They are too close in age to be father and son, their facial features too different to be related in blood.
Wearing leather trousers and vests, soft leather boots and fur coats they are geared to withstand cold weather. They also have bows (Boris a composite shortbow, while Pjotr has a longbow), quivers with some arrows each, and each a shortsword and a long knife.
"That's good to hear, but I figure it won't be fully solved til we get rid of the Stag King. Still on our 'to do' list, and near the top, though! So yeah, what can you tell us of these reaches? Do you know anything of the frog-man in the swamp a few days from here? He ever bother anyone or try his hand at banditry?"
Agerron seems to be in good cheer, despite the minor misfortune on this trip so far. Probably the venison and liquor having a little to do with it. The one thing he positively won't do is offer any booze to Ern, although he (with Bran's help) ensure he eats.
heal