"If you don't mind, Kalig, I think Cob would like some too. He's a picky eater though, only goes for the parts that are still attached."
Horatio sighs, shaking his head as he stands again and brushes off his hands. "Well, I know when I'm outnumbered. You should have spoken to me when you had the chance, Ripnugget - my companions aren't as gracious as I am." With that, he stands back to watch the proceedings - unless, of course, the goblin decides to change his mind.
"I would fear the roc would eat him too quickly, leave him nothing left to torture." Kalig advances on the goblin, when another thought strikes her. "Or as we will find Nualia one way or another eventually , we can truss him up and bring him with us, and present this failure to her and she can respond directly. Still, hobbling him to be sure he is defenseless against her can only help."
"Or, he could answer the questions and earn a swift and painless death, free from both our and Nualia's tyrrany." She holds up the dogslicer over his hand. "What is your answer, goblin? One... two..."
"I agree that if he does not speak we should take him with us, and I'll gut him in front of the next group of goblins we meet" Veryl's eyes continue to radiate malice in the goblin's direction "That should loosen their tongues" He easily lets his blade spine once in his hand, stops it once the tip is pointing towards the ground, and then plants it there.
"All of this violence." Miro shakes his head, going over and looking at the goblin eye to eye. He tries to use their similar height to empathize with him. "Listen, I don't think you want to die protecting this person. Despite their pretty words they don't particularly want to hurt you either. Just tell us what we need to know and you can go free, halfling's honor."
The continuing talk is clearly scaring the chief but he does not speak.
No emotion could be seen on Veryl's face as he bent down, tightened the binds of the goblin chief, gagged him with a piece of cloth and dragged him to his feet "Merwyn do tell cob to devour this fool's corpse when I make an example of him in front of the other goblins" Veryl turned his eyes towards Breaca "Lead the way, should we find goblins or Nualia we'll serve our guest to our pet"
The continuing talk is clearly scaring the chief but he does not speak.
"Three."
Kalig chops off the goblin's finger and pops it in her mouth.
She crunches down on the finger and grins with bloodstained teeth.
"Remember: You be goblin. I be orc."
Veryl raises an eyebrow as he sees Kalig effortlessly popping the finger into her mouth, as if it were a piece of fruit "Technically you're a half orc" He said with a mischievous smile "and you may want to visit an alchemist when we return to town, I doubt you did your body any favors by eating the rare delicacies they have here"
The goblin cries out in pain when Kalig removes a digit and then is wide-eyed as she pops it into her mouth. But he does not show any signs of sharing any information.
Now gagged, the goblin is yanked to his feet by Veryl.
Miro turns away, the display turning his stomach a bit. This is one tough creature they're dealing with.
Breaca watches stoically as Kalig severs the former chief's finger and pops it into her mouth. A raised eyebrow and a hint of a grin are her only reaction. She stoops down, about to wipe her bloody blade on the corpse of a goblin, then pauses. Taking three of her fingers, she swipes them across the middle of the blade then takes them and smears the blood diagonally across her face, lending her features a grim and fearsome aspect - much as she had suggested earlier to Merwyn.
Wiping the blade clean upon the corpse, she straightens and nods at Veryl. "There's bound to be more goblins about somewhere - unless they're out on some other mischief. We'll flush them out soon enough." Her blade slides back into its sheath and she takes her bow in hand once more as she heads to one of the doors lining the walls of the 'throne' room.
1. Are you still one group and
2. Are you taking Ripnugget around with you?
Kalig follows Breaca, pausing to spit tiny phalanges at the now bound Ripnugget. She gives Breaca some room so she can scout without being hindered.
"What in the..." Horatio can only stare, stunned, as Kalig begins chewing the goblin's finger. His mouth works wordlessly as he tries to comprehend the situation. I thought she was bluffing. I honestly didn't believe she was being serious! A faint green shade begins to ruse in his cheeks when the half-orc spits the tiny finger bones at the bound creature, and he turns away to try to force fresh air into his lungs. Cayden's mug, I feel sick. I could use a drink.
Swallowing hard, he busies himself looking over the loot Kalig piled up. The potions definitely look useful, so he tucks them into his belt pouch. Likewise, the coin. The keys... no way to tell whether they're useful here, or just random junk - so to be safe, he takes them as well. When the group moves on, dragging the wailing goblin, he follows, trying to still his own stomach.
As the finger comes off and the goblin begins to shriek, Merwyn's cheeks bleach white momentarily, but she doesn't avert her gaze. "You...you got what you deserved, what all goblins deserve," she mutters, her voice wavering. "Go burn in Hell or whatever plane of evil you come from." She quickly turns away from the goblin, looking to be on the verge of tears, but her face remains completely dry.
As the party starts to move, she stays behind the goblin to stay out of its sight.
As they walk, Kalig does not seem to notice the distress of her other comrades--or if she does, she at least does not react. She wipes off the dogslicer carefully on a rag hanging from her belt, and holds it up to Miro and Merwyn. "This is sized for smallfolk, and a fine blade. Do either of you want it?"
[dice=perception]1d20+7
[dice=stealth]1d20+8
Several rugs made from dog or horse hide lie strewn over the dirt floor of the first room. Against the north wall stands an impressive collection of horseshoes, each nailed to the wall. To the east sits a ragged padded chair next to a rickety desk that may have once been an expensive antique.
To the west sits a canopied bed covered with silk sheets and sporting a once-impressive headboard that featured nymphs and satyrs cavorting in a forest. The bed’s sheets are stained with dirt, while the headboard is bashed and battered.
This was clearly Ripnugget's quarters. Realising it is worth a more thorough search, you find a silver holy symbol of Lamashtu that looks like a three-eyed fanged jackal head with tiny garnets for eyes (hidden under his pillow).
Under the cushion on the chair is a large iron key.
You then make your way into what was obviously the armoury. This room contains a small assortment of crudely made weapons (mostly dogslicers and shortbows) and several small goblin-sized suits of studded leather armor and dented shields. To the south stand a pair of workbenches.
In all, there are twenty-three dogslicers, eleven shortbows, eighty arrows, eleven suits of studded leather, six light wooden shields, and two coiled whips. On the north wall hangs a single masterwork dogslicer.
All are sized for goblins and other smaller folk.
Miro looks at the very fine blade, belting it at his waist.
While he gave off the feeling of not noticing the reaction Horatio and Merwyn, the swordsman was still busy thinking about as he dragged the goblin along And here I was worried about the morale of the group in battle situation His left hand began rubbing at his forehead Some of us can look past this but others Veryl's eyes shifted in the direction of Merwyn and then they went towards Horatio, the former guard knew from their mostly masked moods that he would have to...intervene.
Its pitiable indeed, when I am the only one of the group you have to reassure you Veryl walked a little closer to Kalig and handed her the goblin "Do me a favor and keep dragging him for a while, oh and I know you want nothing more than to crush his skull with your flail...but his death will serve us more if its done in front of other goblins, so try keep him in one piece till I've had the chance to run him through, alright?" He whispered to half-orc, his tone a strange mix of sternness and jest.
Veryl moved towards the sorceress in a fairly direct manner, and without any further indication he walked along side her "I am assuming its the first time you've seen something like that? Well I'll be honest I haven't seen it myself before now, with my old gang we either went for a beating or a slit throat...funny how we never had anything in between" Very gave her a moment, his eyes staring at her studiously "Look, we are bound to see things that unnerve us along this...lovely trip, we all make mistakes and we all have our bad times" Veryl recalled how he wasn't himself the last night they stayed in Sandpoint.
'Oh Veryl I am stunned you're quite terrible at this' Why thank you milady, it seems a few lessons on etiquette aren't quite enough to completely kill off the thug in me He shook his head and continued walking at a slow stride to stay close to the blond gnome.
"Just stay to the back of group as you usually do and work your magic, no need to think about less than savory sights till after we are done here"
"Horatio" Greeted Veryl, as he slapped the back of the bard "You see something new everyday" He continued as he walked by his side "I've heard quite a few things about Korvosa when I was in Magnimar, heard about the criminals, the gangs, seemed the old me would have flourished there, even someone like yourself probably saw a few things he would have gladly not seen" He placed both his hands in pockets, as he looked to the younger man.
"I admire the front you've put up, I really do, but hey now at least you know that Kalig's into rarer delicacies" He said with unhidden sarcasm "When we meet the goblins just think about stabbing chests and necks" He paused as he patted his bastard sword "Funny how the rapier never makes a lot of a mess, not if handled correctly anyway, you can leave the messier jobs to me"
While he gave off the feeling of not noticing the reaction Horatio and Merwyn, the swordsman was still busy thinking about as he dragged the goblin along And here I was worried about the morale of the group in battle situation His left hand began rubbing at his forehead Some of us can look past this but others Veryl's eyes shifted in the direction of Merwyn and then they went towards Horatio, the former guard knew from their mostly masked moods that he would have to...intervene.
Its pitiable indeed, when I am the only one of the group you have to reassure you Veryl walked a little closer to Kalig and handed her the goblin "Do me a favor and keep dragging him for a while, oh and I know you want nothing more than to crush his skull with your flail...but his death will serve us more if its done in front of other goblins, so try keep him in one piece till I've had the chance to run him through, alright?" He whispered to half-orc, his tone a strange mix of sternness and jest.
Kalig stares at Veryl with what he should now recognize as annoyance. "Before all of this, I could have just let the fire finish burning him. Then he would be no longer a problem. But I honored Horatio's request. I thought the point was that we wanted information from this thing. Your human methods weren't working, so I used the most effective way to get information I know."
She takes the goblin and hefts him over her shoulder like a potato sack. Addressing Ripnugget, "But you know now, we do not lie. We do not make idle threats. I don't know what makes you so afraid of that useless wimp Nualia that cows you, a goblin chief, no less, into silence, but know that your silence will earn you far greater suffering than whatever you are trying to avoid."
As they search the room, Kalig says, "Here, let me see that holy symbol." She looks up at Veryl, then drops the holy symbol on the ground. "You mentioned smashing heads with flails?" She balances Ripnugget on one shoulder, and with the other she looses her flail and smashes it a few times into the holy symbol. She lets the flail hang again off its wrist cord and picks up the bent and scarred silver face of Lamashtu and dangles it in front of Ripnugget's gagged face. "There. That is the power you serve. Worthless. Nothing." She spits on it, and then shoves it in a pocket in her robe.
As they move on, Kalig takes to being last in party order, so any sounds of the goblin struggling are as distant as possible from Breaca scouting in front.
"I do apologize Kalig, when we first met I didn't think you had a sense of humor, its clear to me now that I was wrong" Said Veryl, as he looked at the destroyed symbol with clear amusement.
Horatio continues staing straight ahead as he walks, listening to Veryl's speech, his jaw alternately tightening and loosing. "I lived in Bridgefront, Veryl," he says finally. "I saw my share of bodies. I saw a guard get knifed in a dark alley once, and I saw his blood on the walls - I was nine. I saw a young woman leap from the Shingles when I was twelve - just another victim of her own head, her worst enemy just by living in that place. But I never saw a man's finger cut off and eaten." He pauses for a moment as he walks, staring at his own boots, before adding, "I saw Shiver addicts lying in the alleys, Veryl. But I never witnessed torture."
He pats the violin hanging against his thigh, a twist of regret slipping across his lips as he does so. "I'm a musician, after all. Not a Hellknight."
Merwyn's mouth curves into a small, forced smile. "Not the first time I've seen it, Veryl. Not even the first time that I've done it." She points to her tearless face. "I don't think that I have any tears left after half a lifetime. I've been told in my youth that experience doesn't make things any easier, only easier to mask, although..." She cracks a real grin. "...I guess it might take more experience than what I've seen."
"We must do what must be done, and thank you for your kindness. I have a small favor to ask though." She pauses. "Next time, please stay with me and keep me facing the torture. I'm going to have to learn sometime."
As they search the room, Kalig says, "Here, let me see that holy symbol." She looks up at Veryl, then drops the holy symbol on the ground. "You mentioned smashing heads with flails?" She balances Ripnugget on one shoulder, and with the other she looses her flail and smashes it a few times into the holy symbol. She lets the flail hang again off its wrist cord and picks up the bent and scarred silver face of Lamashtu and dangles it in front of Ripnugget's gagged face. "There. That is the power you serve. Worthless. Nothing." She spits on it, and then shoves it in a pocket in her robe.
You have now all reached the spot that Breaca has led you to.
Half a century? And here I am acting like I've seen it all Veryl put his hand to his chin as he considered her words; while Merwyn appeared to be the spirit of enthusiasm and optimism, it was clear that she had seen quite a bit of hardship, but it wasn't just her words that indicated that That forced smile, I've seen that enough times in my life If all of these clues were anything to go by then Merwyn was a far stronger person than the swordsman gave her credit for.
Veryl lets out a whistle "Half a century, well if its any consolation you don't look a day over twenty five" He said with a tiny smile, before placing a hand over her shoulder, and shifting his expression to a more stern mask "I am usually around when things go to that level, but I don't think you have anything to learn by facing torture, it'll just make you more or less like me...only prettier and more presentable" As he spoke those words he straightened his new red shirt, the last few words he spoke were less loaded with his serious tone.
"No one asked you to change who you are, and from what I can see if you survived all of this...and our company, I say you are doing something right" Commented Veryl before looking back to Horatio "I am not an expert on torture and I doubt any of us here is, Kalig probably thought of that on the fly, I'll give her credit for surprising us all...even I didn't think she'd carry through with it" Veryl let out a small chortle "Can you imagine the stomach ache she'll have the next day? I honestly doubt she has Cob's constitution" After the small laugh Veryl's expression turned more sober, and he looked ahead.
"Listen, I personally have no problem giving you a chance to solve problems with your words, means less work and trouble for the rest of us" Hazel eyes turned towards Horatio with a serious stare "But if that fails it fails, you gave them a chance they didn't take it...and keep in mind we are not dealing with any kind of rational mind here, have you seen how goblins do things? How they are cruel for cruelty's sake? Makes me wonder why Nualia bothered with them, discipline is clearly not on her list of priorities"
"It's not something I truly believed people were capable of." Normally so exuberant and confident, Horatio seems uncharacteristically quiet and introspective, as if reassessing his current circumstances. "Effective or not... it's cruel. Nothing more. And it didn't even work." He glances up at Kalig's back, before casting his gaze down again. At the end of Veryl's speech, about cruelty for cruelty's sake, he sighs, "My father used to say the same thing about Varisians," then falls silent, offering no more on the subject.
In Ripnugget's quarters, Horatio shrugs, taking the key but leaving the rest of the room undisturbed. The armoury holds little of interest to him, so he follows, staying silent at the back of the group.
Breaca only shakes her head and moves further in front of the group, trying to put a little distance between herself and the whimpering chief and chattering companions. The incident with the finger was already pushed from her mind and forgotten; while she had never witnessed anything quite like that, the warrioress took such things as a matter of course. Such was simply part of what happened on tasks such as they were on. Breaca was all business as she crept towards the door to her left and listened before opening.
As they search the room, Kalig says, "Here, let me see that holy symbol." She looks up at Veryl, then drops the holy symbol on the ground. "You mentioned smashing heads with flails?" She balances Ripnugget on one shoulder, and with the other she looses her flail and smashes it a few times into the holy symbol. She lets the flail hang again off its wrist cord and picks up the bent and scarred silver face of Lamashtu and dangles it in front of Ripnugget's gagged face. "There. That is the power you serve. Worthless. Nothing." She spits on it, and then shoves it in a pocket in her robe.
When they hit the armory, Kalig observes, "We should probably empty this eventually so no one can make use of it later. But not right now."
She continues to follow behind, staying at the back of the group.
Merwyn considers his words. "Perhaps you're right. After all, this journey will likely have many things left to see. No reason to go looking for bloodshed. Although, I don't see why it would be such a bad thing to become more like you."
Using prestidigitation, Merwyn carefully draws the goblin blood out of her robes and uses it to style the feathers near Cob's head into a terrifying visage. "Voila!"
You suspect you know what's in the first door you open .
A foul-smelling butchery is a horrifying affront to all the senses. Haunches of poorly smoked meat hang from hooks along the ceiling or lie heaped in and atop crates. In some cases, the meat seems to be dog or horse, but in many other cases, the meat has all-too-recognizable features, like feet, hands or grimacing faces.
Next is an open flight of wooden stairs that winds up to a trap door in the ceiling, thirty feet above - the other watch-tower. This one appears un-goblinned.
Finally you come across a barracks. Six poorly constructed bunk beds, little more than hammocks slung from rickety frames, stand along the walls of this room. Each is heaped with a vermin-infested blanket and a lump of straw that serves as a frustrating pillow.
Finally you reach some stairs that lead down...
You have come to the rapid conclusion that Ripnugget does not respond to threats or intimidation. If anything, it is steeling his resolve.
Every attempt to imtimidate has met with the same reponse, stoic silence.
Breaca turns back to the others. "There are stairs leading down just ahead. Shall we head down, or finish up here? I suspect what we seek will be down in the dark.
In the butchery, Kalig looks around. "A waste. In many senses," she observes, but moves on.
When Breaca asks them where next, Kalig shrugs with the shoulder that doesn't have a goblin on it.
"If there's nothing more to see here, we may as well head down."
Assuming no one objects, Breaca nods in agreement to Kalig and begins to descend the stairs....
"While a lot of my traits, skills and talents are things people strive for, I tend to earn myself enmities far too quickly, comes with my history and what I am used to I suppose, you on other hand seem to win friends with little effort, I doubt you would want to see that change" Veryl smiled as he laid his eyes on the newly war painted Cob, his voice tone doing a terrible job of hiding his ego "Who could boast that they had won the companionship of such a unique fellow such as Cob? If he had met me in Magnimar...well lets not go into that" He attempted to pet the bird once more "While at times I can be a terrible listener and quite lacking in sympathy, feel free to converse with me should you feel the need to talk to someone" He continued giving Merwyn what seemed to be a truly genuine smile. Although he wouldn't admit it to himself or anyone, something didn't feel right about seeing the optimistic and joyful performer lose her self to sadness even if briefly, Veryl didn't understand why he felt this way and for now he chose not to dwell on it.
"Effective? Not all the time, as evidenced by the fact that the only sounds he had made till now are moans of pain and cries of agony" Said Veryl as he continued walking with the bard, who seemed to have lost the desire to speak as much as he did before, especially when he brought up the matter of his father That I should not touch, if he wishes to speak of the matter further he will "Next time we'll let you try your way...which reminds me, how did you get Tsuto to speak? I walked out and when I went back in it seems he had divulged to you his life story" Veryl hoped that shifting the subject in another direction would get Horatio's mind of the grimness that appeared to have hold of him, he couldn't believe how much he preferred the quips and verbal stabs of the bard of this sudden bout of broodiness.
"Seeing that there is nothing here to see but the goblin's poor storing skills, I say lead on" Commented Veryl before following after Breaca.
Horatio blinks at the sudden unexpected comment from Veryl. It takes him a moment to respond, as if formulating his reply in mild confusion. "Magic," he says finally. "I've always been charming and persuasive - even as a child, I knew how to read people and get what I wanted from them. I suppose some would call it manipulative, but I think it's just responsive. Some people are naturally subservient, and will respond well if you take a position of dominance. Some people are proud, and need to be flattered - act like a mewling sycophant, and they'll gladly boast to you, telling you everything. Tsuto... Didn't respond so well." He pauses for a moment, glancing at his fingertips. "I've mastered a small charm. It's not strong enough to outright cloud a person's will and take them over, but it makes people view me more favourably. I prefer to rely on my natural charm, but sometimes, somebody needs... Something to push them along." He shrugs, remembering Tsuto's abrupt change in personality. "And if it works, it works."
Horatio stares in horror at the butchery, looking considerably green around the gills as he notices the humanoid features on some of the carcasses. He finally swallows, his face setting into a steely mask. "We show them no more mercy," he says, a note of finality in his voice.
He closes his eyes briefly upon reaching the stairs, steeling himself before heading down.
Merwyn watches as Cob nibbles playfully at Veryl's hand. "Well let's hope that the bloodshed won't change either of us, then." She comes closer and hugs Veryl's leg with a brief squeeze. "And I'll be there too if you need me." Merwyn picks up one of the dogslicers.
"Let's press onwards and cut them with their own blades. Come, Cob!"
When Merwyn encounters the storehouse, her face is lined with resolve. "I'm glad that you've come to that conclusion by yourself, Horatio. That knowledge usually comes at a higher price. Are you ready?"
As you begin to mdescend the stairs, Horatio notices that some of the stones that form the wall look odd. A press here and there and he's found a small lever that when pulled, opens a secret storage place. Ripnugget's eyes show a reaction for the first time since you 'acquired' him.
Inside is an old iron chest - that one of Ripnugget's keys opens.
Inside of the chest must be the accumulated wealth of the Thistletop tribe. This collection consists of an unorganized pile of 7,432 cp,
2,490 sp, 89 gp, 3 pp, a leather pouch of 34 badly flawed malachites
(worth 1 gp each), a medium chain shirt, a medium masterwork scimitar,
a pair of masterwork manacles, a gold holy symbol of Sarenrae (worth 100 gp), a jade necklace (worth 60 gp), and a fine blue silk gown
with silver trim (worth 150 gp).
As you descend the stairs, you notice lanterns lining the stairs. Although goblins can see in the dark, people that use these stairs clearly can't!
Kalig notices Ripnugget's eyes widen. "The kind and generous chief wants us to know he would like us to have this treasure for ourselves."
Her eyes light on the scimitar. "That is something I could use. My weapons training is spotty at best but oddly enough orcs and druids alike use those for decapitation and weed-whacking. I am fond of my flail and prefer it but what's useful is useful."
Immediately Veryl was hard at work; placing each coin group in a pouch and give each one to a group member to hold, he was no expert on fine stones but the malachites did not appear to be of the highest quality, but he guessed they would at least fetch a good price. The jade necklace and the silk gown looked especially well made "It seems our goblins possess a refined taste, would any of you ladies want to keep the gown? You'd have to wash it...maybe even douse it with a few bottles of scents and oils" He held out the gown as if he was a merchant parading a rare piece to his customers.
"Hmmmm, looks like a fine weapon may I? I'd like to give it a closer look" Asked Veryl, his right hand held out, his eyes focusing on the edge of the blade.
Miro glances over all of the equipment then looks at the lights and narrows his eyes. "We're going to be dealing with more than just goblins I fear."
"Hey, I found it," Horatio points out, raising an eyebrow at Veryl. "What if I want to keep the dress?" He pauses for a moment, taking in the resultant silence. "No? Oh, very well, then", he shrugs, sifting through the contents of the chest. He takes the manacles (responding to any questioning looks with a knowing wink), but spends a little longer looking over the necklace. "Would anyone object if I took this?" he asks, his voice unusually quiet as he holds it up, fingers running over the jade. A faraway look creeps into his eyes, an almost sad, wistful expression settling on his face.
"You can have the gown and the necklace as far as I am concerned," Kalig replies matter-of-factly--but she follows with a half smile. "Whether you wear them or give them to one of your would-be conquests is up to you."
Breaca pauses at the discovery of the hidden cache and watches as the others unlock and search the chest. She watches as Kalig and Veryl inspect the scimitar, nodding her own approval at the weapon. "It looks well made. You should take it Kalig. One can never have too many weapons."
She seems disinterested in the rest of the contents, though if anyone happened to be watching, her eyes widen almost imperceptibly at the dress and its extravagance. Had it been on anyone else, her expression for just a moment might have been wistful. But it soon passes as she turns and reaches for one of the lanterns hanging on the wall.
"Unfortunately we may need these by the looks of the passageway. Anyone else want one?"
When the party is once more ready to continue, she begins heading further down.
The first place you come to sports a single lantern hanging from a hook on the wall next to where the stairs enter
the room from the north. Several rickety doors open into this room, and a few discarded dog pelt rugs lie forgotten in the northeast corner.
There is no obvious use for this room - it appears to be an empty space.