"Actually," Rokan says, tapping his laden pack, "Does this town have any good horses to trade?"
Sonya listens intently to Ameiko's story, both as a way to learn more about the goblin fortress intent on attacking the city, and to hear more about Ameiko's adventuring life.
She'd always heard the rumors of the Kaijutsu daughter leaving for a life of adventure. They had played back in her head more than a few times before she ran off and took up the sword herself.
"We'll figure out how to deal with the fort - you need to keep the catacombs and the city safe. We still don't know for sure what awakened down there, or why."
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"A whimsical tale of daring and adventure with a twist and flare. Well done!" E smiles as Ameiko finishes her story.
--
He listens as the plan unfolds to scout and strike at Thistletop.
"I'm sure our little group can clear the threat. Best you have some of these more disciplined guards post a few at the catacombs beneath Old Light. A couple of your city guard know where."
"His name is Leonidas Verryn, and he's an officer of Magnimar's town guard," Belor says with a slight wry look for Rokan's stubborn tenacity. "Yes, we'll hold the town safe, at the least. Best of fortune go with you, and the gods too, I hope."
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With plans made to plunge off into the forest and search for the goblin lair called Thistletop, Sonya stops in to bid her family goodbye... to find a surprise waiting her. Her grandfather gestures her to wait a moment, sending the butler up to the attic; a few minutes later, the man returns carrying something bulky, wrapped in cloth. It's revealed to be a finely made, if somewhat-out-of-current-style, set of armor, with the Valdemar family crest embossed in a few places.
Ethram wheezes and coughs as he displays the suit to Sonya. "Well? What do you think? As a heirloom goes, it's... well, I'd hoped that this could just be a museum piece, but it seems the Valdemars need to bring steel as well as gold, just now. This was my mother's. I think it'll fit you."
The sentimental moment is burst by Ethram adding on, "Now-- family is family, but trade is trade, aye? Maybe you can put some of those riches you've been finding with that crew of yours back into the family business, eh?"
***
The sun rises higher as you set out on horses leased from the town's stables. For the first few hours, travel is wholly uneventful; Rokan likely is pleased just to be back out of a town's walls and with trees on either side and open sky above.
Eventually you reach the point at which you think the main road will no longer suffice to lead you to goblins, even if it continues on to Magnimar. From now out, you must push through the woods and scour for signs of your prey, and look for Thistletop itself.
Seraka seems to relish even the slightest movement in her new full plate.
Rokan IS, in fact, pleased to be back out among the spirits of land, trees, and sky. Nothing necessarily changes about his usually reserved demeanor, but he sits his saddle more comfortably. Maybe the stick thats usually jammed up his backside has momentarily, or maybe the angle is less severe. Regardless, he rides with bow in hand, eyes scanning, and a comfortable expression on his features.
”It is good to be on the hunt once again.”
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"I don't really see the draw to being outside. Other than it connects us to all the interesting things that aren't right in front of us, I'd rather not have to brave flora and fauna to get somewhere."
"Then again, the sun does really shine well on those suits of metal.
That's something you wouldn't see stuck in a library all day."
"Ah well, at least some comforts are portable." E shrugs as he pulls his mug out and fills it with a mildly aromatic liquid.
Seraka drapes her arms over her bardiche.
”Maybe that’s your problem, bud. You’re just thinking of nature as a place you go through to get somewhere instead of a worthy destination on its own.”
Seraka scratches at her eyesocket and adjusts her eyepatch.
”Also, there’s more stuff to fight out in nature, and y’aren’t as likely to get in trouble for fighting it. Fewer authority figures, more owlbears.”
Rokan looks over at E for a moment before returning his eyes to his study of their surroundings. It seems for a long moment that the shoanti hunter is ignoring the comment, then finally he shrugs.
”I would guess you grew up in cities. Among so-called monuments built by men and women. I would not expect you to understand.” He pauses again, considering their surroundings, ”Things of man have never rivaled those of nature. We build walls, then towns, then nations and empires. Over time, it all crumbles and is all but forgotten. The hills, forests, and waters survive. What castle can rival the majesty of the snow-cloaked mountains? What painting can capture the full beauty of a sunset over the waters? We have sat for time unending at the foot of all of Golarion’s glory and tried to replicate — or even best — its power, its grandeur. It is prideful folly.
”More than that, though,” he continues, ”when we build our own monuments, what are we really trying to do? Make ourselves immortal? Only to have our own creation destroyed or decayed. When I walk through the forest, climb mountain paths, and stand in the waters of the beach, I am reminded of the scale of my life. What am I to such great spirits? Am I even the same as one piece of sand on the beach? No, I will seek to walk with these great spirits. And to understand them. Maybe, in some way, to join my spirit with theirs and become part of the great cycle of Golarion.”
He realizes how long he’s been talking and gives the group an uncomfortable look. ”Maybe, I have been listening to the Elders too much. Yes, nature can be rugged and dangerous. It also has a powerful simplicity.” He shrugs, ”And less people and politics.”
Seraka rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
”I’ve lived in both for my share. Nature’s got its perks, but it ain’t some some kinda ideal where everything is perfect and authentic. It’s got bullshit same as anywhere else. It’s where all the bulls shit, after all.”
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"I suppose art can't imitate life fully," E ponders "it'd just be helpful to be able to step from a home to where the sunset is, as opposed to climbing some gods-forsaken cliff-face to see it from the best vantage point."
"But I'm not a wizard, and I suppose when you have the arcane might to accomplish such a feat, you have better things to be doing with it."
Rokan side-eyes Seraka, "I didn't say perfect."
Seraka leans towards E and discretely points to Rokan, keeping her voice low.
”Authority figure.”
Sonya rolls her eyes - even in 'retirement' Ethram was still always on the prowl to make the family a quick buck. But she couldn't blame him - with the Scarnettis in control of all the lumber mills around Sandpoint, the Valdemars couldn't quite afford to siphon money away from their shipwrights, even for family. "Yes, grandpa, I wouldn't dream of trying to cheat you."
She runs her fingers across the raised designs as the butler helps her don the armor and affix the red cloak. A bit ostentatious for combat nowadays, but a noble's armor for sure.
Sonya was the spitting image of her great grandmother - save for one detail, Abadar's golden key pinned to her cloak.
***
Sonya snaps out of her reverie and pushes her horse forward behind the others.
"The cities are their own cycle, Rokan - you say that they crumble and fall away, but the people do not. Varisians, Shoanti, they gather and the lives they live are passed down in stories, song, memorials. Without those camps, towns, and cities, those stories would be lost to the wild."
She rubs a sunburnt part of her neck. "I could maybe do without the backstabbing politics, but if it means that people can live their lives in safety, I'll bear that burden."
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As the heroes-to-be-- or perhaps already heroes, if one were to ask the people whose lives they've saved-- make their way back into the natural world and exchange philosophical viewpoints on the matter...
Rokan is able to pick up a trail through the woods that seems to be made by both goblin feet as well as the paws of their scabrous steeds, the so-called 'goblin dogs'. A few prints ultimately turn into a loose path. For ten minutes or so the travelers cautiously follow along the barely-a-trail through the thick, old-growth forest, with the trees pressing in on all sides and filtering the sunlight to a weak, green glow.
Suddenly, E and Rokan hear the snap of a twig, the hint of a growl... Glancing up, the sharp-eyed Shoanti and the blue-skinned Caydenite both see the pale shapes of a pack of goblin dogs slinking through the underbrush, attempting to surround the group!
Before E or Rokan can yell out a warning, however, the rat-like forms of the dogs burst from the undergrowth and close!
Rokan pivots away from the nearest two goblin dogs, taking a moment to consider the beasts.
As he considers, he calms his mind, nocks an arrow, and looses it at point-blank range into one of those closing in on their flank.
Startled by the sudden pack of goblin dogs, Sonya latches onto the first thought she can, and a gout of flame bursts from her hand.
Alas, Rokan don't know much about these doggos, other than they really don't look like doggos at all. Super ugly rat critters, technically. But it doesn't stop him from nocking an arrow and neatly sending it through one of the ugly beasts. A second later, E manages to perforate a 'dog' as well!
Then Sonya joins the fray, lighting up the forest and two of the wretched beasts. FWOOSH. One seems fully caught; the other dodges low, only its dandruff getting scorched.
Snarling and yipping, the pack responds!
However, the snapping pack seems more bark than bite, and none of them manage to penetrate our heroes' defenses!
Rokan puts another arrow into the nearest dog-thing's face point-blank.
As the dog ducks low, Sonya takes her opportunity to slash at it with her longsword before it can lunge into the center of the circle they had all made.
"F#&~ing dogs."
Seraka picks out an unwounded dog, trusting herself to be able to obliterate it in one hit. She steps back towards her comrades to give herself reach, then slams her bardiche down on her target.
The dog bites at Rokan' forearm, but it doesn't stop the Shoanti from sending an arrow into its exceptionally dandruff-flecked hide. It drops, and the hunter takes advantage of the chance to sprint around to the darker-hued animal's flank.... distracting it long enough for E's rapier to find a vulnerable spot! Thanks to the teamwork, the second dog drops as well!
Sonya's sword slices out and carves a gash through the flesh she had singed only seconds prior, and the beast slumps to the ground with a gurgling whimper.
Seraka, however, pulls back to have room to swing.... and swings. The bardiche falls like a comet... and leaves nothing but a twitching, severed half of a beast in its wake.
With the pack's numbers drastically thinned, the last two beasts snap with a sort of frenzied desperation, perhaps too stupid to realize numbers are no longer with them.
Rokan grimaces at his own stupidity, but the damage from the dead dog's bite seems mostly superficial. THWIP. THWIP. Another pair of arrows fly into the melee at point-blank.
Seraka laughs as the dogs drop in seconds.
"Hah! Pitiful."
She steps back to get range on goblin dog on its own, trusting Sonya and E to take the other.
Sonya moves in on the cornered goblin dog and takes a powerful swing at it.
With excellent teamwork, the heroes manage to make short work of the dogs! Only flesh wounds... though E's flesh wound is itching something fierce...
Rokan takes a slow spin, arrow nocked as he searches for further threats. When none jump out of the surrounding brush, he eases his bowstring. He casts a measuring eye towards the unhurt Sonya and Seraka, which becomes a frustrated scowl at his own savaged arm.
”You alright, E?” he quietly grunts. ”I can probably survive for now without healing.” Then he nudges the nearest of the disgusting dog-things with his soft-toed boot, then looks around the now-quiet area, ”I am hoping these things weren’t being watched by their masters. I hope we can still surprise Thistletop.”
Rokan frowns when E drops his pants, then looks incredulously over at Seraka in your classic 'what the hell?!' look.
"Um. What's wrong?"
Seraka reflexively jumps back as E drops his pants, her hands tensing around her bardiche. She finally relaxes after a few moments of tense glaring.
”Kid, could you not drop your pants without a warning. Last time a man did near me, he had one fewer extremity when I left. I’ll leave which one to your imagination.”
It was an arm, but the story sounded better this way, so she kept it vague.
”You’d think after all those lifetimes you’d have a bit more sense.”