Entering the marsh is like stepping into a greenhouse; noticeably hotter than the road you've just left, it is humid and uncomfortable. Being in relatively good use, the New Fish Trail, as it is known, is easy to follow. Narrow, yet well worn, the path twists and turns as it penetrates into the swamp. Most of the time, you are forced to travel single file, but there are wider portions here and there - presumably to allow groups to pass one another. On either side of the trail is a tangle of nettles, reeds, and other swamp plants. Beyond that can be seen contorted specimens of cypress, eucalyptus, and willow trees – seemingly all grappling each other in a slow fight for the right to survive. The twisted branches of trees are a strange sight, compared to what one normally perceives a tree to look like.
With the departure of the group, Rennyn leans back in his chair. The excitement of the latest goblin raid is fresh on the minds of those remaining. Many express dismay, Such brash behaviour! These goblins are getting out of hand! Others wonder what Sheriff Hemlock is going to do about this. Predictably, Saull is the first to sing this tune, but Jiggs reminds him, Then why not do what Rennyn suggested? Take an active role Saull, go do something about it! Saull gives the old merchant a deflated look, Oh, I could if I wanted to, but you know how Molly is, she’d hang me.
There are regulars at the Rusty Dragon and then there are regulars. Saull and Jiggs are two such patrons. Like clockwork, they appear every day - Rennyn has had plenty of time to figure them out. Saull was once an accomplished fighter and adventurer. According to Klaxle, he is a terrible fisherman, yet Saull always has enough coin to spread around at the Rusty Dragon. The first to buy a new adventurer a drink, Saull retired from adventuring years ago when he married a rather busty yet overbearing woman named Molly. With the honeymoon long over, everyone knows Saull wiles away his time at the Rusty Dragon to avoid going home.
Jiggs wears the clothes of a retired merchant and his reputation as a handyman is unquestionable. A genuinely nice guy, Jiggs is the voice of reason to balance Saull’s boisterous opinions. Yet there is something more to Jiggs. Inquires into the nature of his shop are met with a wink and a smile, Oh, you know, just odds and ends.
The night wears on. Much is said about the goblin activity around the Brinestump and many suggestions are put forth. But in the end, nothing is concluded - there is to be no mob action. As the last of the patrons stumbles out, Ameiko gets to work clearing away the night’s revelry. In the kitchen, the familiar invisible servant she employs slings dishes into a bath of soapy water then onto a rack to dry.
The tavern closed and the candles extinguished, Ameiko asks Rennyn to keep the fire going then disappears into the back. As Rennyn settles in to his sleep like trance for the remainder of the night, the sound of dishes clinking steadily in the kitchen fades into a distant background. The elf’s senses to the world around him dull, but his body is more alive. Every breath is heightened. Each rush of air filling his lungs expands his core and sends rejuvenating energy coursing through him. He is relaxed.
A dragon. Talk of dark elves. Rennyn’s reverie is suddenly interrupted as he becomes aware of the presence of others in the tavern. Rousing to investigate, the source is non other than Shalelu and Ameiko. Both are seated at the counter; speaking in hushed tones, no doubt to not disturb the young paladin. For a moment, Shalelu looks troubled. However Rennyn’s presence gives the two ladies cause to switch topic and Ameiko begins the long tale of fireworks, goblins and the excitement that awaits the Rusty Dragon’s cadre of new heroes.
Given the topic switch due to his presence, Rennyn does not interrupt the women's conversation and returns to his trance.
Rennyn does not eat any of the prepared breakfast, and remains in the kitchen until it is time to depart. When presented with his lacquered box, he unties the cloth and removes the lid. He scoops out a handful of rice and proceeds to wade it into a ball. He then places the rice inside the cloth, along with the apple slices and ties it closed before tucking it inside his armor. He closes the box, sausage untouched, and leaves the box on the bar. I'd rather not risk breaking such a nice box. Besides, I have nothing to carry it in.
He then gives Ameiko and Shalelu a bow before strolling outside with the others.
Rennyn endures the heat and smell of the fetid swamp without comment or complaint. As they travel the pathway his eyes warily scan, and his keen elven hearing listens, for any sign of trouble in the surrounding foliage.
Realizing her mistake with breakfast, Ameiko blushes. Putting her hand in front of her face she speaks apologetically through closed fingers, Sorry! Even after all this time, I'm still having trouble remembering.
Before Rennyn can take up one of the boxes, Ameiko quickly stops him, Oh! Not that one. The hostess moves as though to push away the box Rennyn was about to take and presents him with one tied in a dark blue cloth. Inside, Rennyn sees the layer of rice, a layer of sliced apple and below that a pouch of mixed nuts and dried berries. At least lunch is saved! Nodding with a smile, the Tian's expression is hopeful that her mistake has been somewhat vindicated.
At first Ameiko is puzzled by Rennyn's refusal of the boxed lunch (otherwise known as Bento), but her puzzlement is soon replaced by understanding, Ahh, right.
You can’t be sure, but one tree seems to be watching you. Through a distant gap in the undergrowth, one tree in particular stands out amongst the rest. Branches like twisted arms and legs, there is a pale, cruelly shaped tree devoid of leaves…and unless your eyes are playing tricks, vaguely shaped like a humanoid.
As the trail meanders through the marsh, you notice the path is remarkably dry. Despite the rains, the ground is not as muddy as the road. The thick vegetation has soaked up what blessings the heavens had had to offer like a sponge. Still, although solid, the path feels odd at times – like walking on a firm mattress. Elsewhere it almost sounds hollow.
Despite having only just begun your trek though the marsh, it has quickly become arduous. There is little relief for your senses here and nettles punish you for the smallest deviation from the path. Everywhere you look, disfigured trees creep in and out of view. The hot day has been made worse by the night's heavy rains. The humidity clings to your bodies and sticks to your clothes as beads of sweat begin to form. Clinging to your faces, the tiny beads threaten to sting your eyes if left unchecked. And now flies torment. Attracted by the sweet smell of fresh blood, the tiny pests buzz here and there, hoping for a taste. Too busy swatting at flies and gazing at the trees, Jeryn sees the trees, but not the dangers within. Kenan on the other hand seems oblivious by the distractions. Familiar with these paths, the dwarf has learned to tolerate their trials for the rewards waiting at the end are worth it.
Jeryn if our goblin hunting fails to reward us we could always return to search the many ships in Sog bay near here. According to the fisherman many are loaded with gold and gems. You can tell by the dry tone in Kenan's voice that he is skeptical there is any such treasure.
Kenan trudges on absentmindedly shooing away the multitude of biting insects. Focus on the path ahead it makes the distraction the insects pose more tolerable
Fenra removes one of her scarves and uses it to wrap around her head, hoping to keep the moisture from dripping into her eyes. She swats bugs as the swarms grow thick.
After fifteen minutes the air cools slightly as the path turns and becomes a simple wooden bridge. Dampened from the rains and not very sturdy looking, many of the planks are covered with a light layer of moss. A few planks have split along their grain, forming large cracks. Rope ties all the boards together and there is a simple rope handrail of sorts on either side. The water below is murky, flowing steadily it is difficult to see the bottom or what may be lurking. Along the sides of the creek branches of trees stretch out over the water, each competing with their neighbor to soak up valuable sunlight.
Spending most of his time focusing on putting one foot in front of the other and swatting the bugs that are zipping relentlessly about his head, he grumbles to Kenan Yes...I might have some sort of spell to help you hold your breath longer within those fetid waters. That or we could just fill this wretched swamp with oil, burn it to the ground and sift through the ashes for the gold. He gives off a mirthless cackle and says No flies, no goblins...sounds quite serene, wouldn't you say?
Rennyn scoffs at the notion of sunken gold and gem laden wrecks as well. Fishermen love to tell tall tales. About everything. Adjusting the over the shoulder strap of the scabbard of his large sword he adds, Besides, even if, and that is a big if, there had been treasure on any of those ships I'm sure some aquatic race like the sahuagin cleaned them out long ago.
When Jeryn offers his "solution", Rennyn remarks, If we had that much oil, we could just sell it. No need to bother coming in here at all then.
As they come upon the bridge, Renny casts an appraising eye upon the bridge. Calling out to Kenan he asks, Is it sturdy?
Scanning the water and the far bank, Rennyn reflexively adjusts the grip upon his bow, ready to loose an arrow at the first sign of trouble.
As the party stands in the cool summer breeze, the sound of the flowing water is infused with several birds can be heard singing in the distance. The air is refreshing and a welcome break from swamp's stench. The dwarf stands and stares stoically at the bridge as a butterfly flutters by.
- The distinct rustle of pages being turned, Hmmm, yes.
As Kenan makes up his mind, it occurs to some of you that he is not the only one capable of determining the sturdiness of the bridge. There are other ways...
All I can tell you is that I have not crossed all the bridges. I have heard from others that travel this way more often that, all the bridges should be safe
Shrugging his shoulders Kenan strides onto the bridge.
Stepping confidently, Kenan walks onto the wooden bridge. Suddenly the foliage on the other side of the creek rustles to life. Several of the bushes to the west shift and move, their leaves shaking rapidly. Snorting follows. A large brown swine and several squeakers push through the brush. The group pays no head to the dwarf but continues along its way across the path and into the undergrowth on the other side. A moment later, the foliage ceases activity.
Swaying with every step, the wood creaks and sags under Kenan's girth. Before long, the dwarf reaches the other side. There is no sign of the swine or her young.
With Kenan’s knowledge of this part of the Brinestump, the party makes good progress and is soon on the path leading to Walthus’. Winding its way west, the air cools and the familiar sound of waves collapsing upon themselves reaches your ears. The trail leads up to a swampy lagoon. The open ocean is visible just beyond these shallow waters, while an old two-story building, its walls soggy with moss and its roof sagging with age, sits on the lagoon’s eastern shore.
As you make your way to the building a voice calls out, Who goes there?!
Rennyn stows his bow in case they are being watched from the shack. We are adventurers out of Sandpoint. We come seeking your assistance and counsel in navigating the swamp. Shalelu sent us.
From around the corner of the building a solitary figure emerges, Well go away! Shalelu or not, I don’t want to be bothered now. His clothes look 'lived in'. The same color as the foliage from which he appeared, the creature standing before you is roughly three feet in height. Tufts of thick, curly hair covers the tops of over sized tanned feet. Dark tanned skin and matted brown hair covers most of his face. This is unmistakably a Halfling. A mud caked leather vest that looks a little worse for wear covers a simple shirt. His matted hair, soiled face and hands stand out - a clear indication that this is someone to whom personal hygiene is no longer a priority.
Rennyn steps forward, showing his open empty hands as he speaks in a friendly tone. Come now friend, Shalelu has spoken very highly of you, and we have walked quite a ways to speak with you. Surely you wouldn't turn us away so quickly without hearing us out at least? We don't wish to be a bother but our need is urgent.
Looking about Rennyn adds, Perhaps we can be of assistance? Is there something we can do for you?
He appears as he seems, an unkept Half ling with little regard for bathing. However, he does look very, very tired. Although he is hunched over, it is possible to see part of his torso and arms. Several wounds are visible.
Hunching over, the Half ling squints and repeats, Shalelu. He is beginning to look annoyed but quickly adds with a smile, Yes, of course! Turning his head, the half ling looks from side to side, scanning the ground for something and mumbles, Who else?!
His tone remains agitated, Help me?! Who said I need help and just what can you help me with?
Shalelu wouldn't have sent us to you if she thought there was a chance that you wouldn't help us.
Getting a closer look at Walthus, Rennyn offers, You seem to be in some sort of distress. Are those wounds?
Rennyn scans the surrounding area again, looking for signs of a fight or others. Have you been attacked?
Rennyn can see no signs of fighting in the area. Any wounds the Half ling is suffering from must have been inflicted elsewhere.
Seeing Rennyn take a closer look, Walthus becomes self conscious. Pulling at his sleeves to conceal his wounds, he concedes, Wounds? Ah, yes. I am wounded. Walthus' tone softens. Looking hopefully at the others behind Rennyn, the Half ling nervously continues, Snakes! A couple managed to sink their teeth in me the other day. Perhaps you can help, can you? He looks over at the others then back at the elf.
Rennyn looks at the halfling skeptically. He needs reminding he is wounded?!
What made the larger hole and the slash marks?
And what about your wife Matilda? Is she wounded as well?
Fenra lets a quick glance of confusion cross her features at the mention of Matilda before realizing what Rennyn is doing.
She quickly adds, I will ask for a blessing to aid in healing your wounds. Under the guise of a prayer she casts detect magic.
Rennyn focuses his mind upon the halfling, intent on examining his aura.
As you gaze upon the halfling, the faint aura of magic shimmers about him. There is something magical either about him or on his person.
The creature before you has an aura of evil about him. His intent does not sit well with you.
Noting Rennyn's skepticism, the halfling smiles politely although his tone is mildly defensive towards you. I do not know this Matilda you speak of sir. Are you sure you are thinking of the right halfling? As for my wounds, snakes bit me the other day. Not having ready access to magical remedies, I have cut myself and employed a leech to rid my body of the venom. I am tired as a result and in no mood for guests. What counsel have you come to seek? His spirit rises upon Fenra's offer to heal him. Standing a little taller, he awaits the oracle's blessing.
Rennyn looks at Fenra and speaks in the language of angels.
Don't know Matilda?! You are Walthrik right?
Fenra nods to Rennyn with a smile and then turns her smile on the halfling. Perhaps we do have the wrong halfling, but that is no reason not to lend our assistance. Might we retire to your dwelling, while the goddess allows me to bestow her blessings it does tire me out and I will need to sit and rest for a few moments afterward; the long trek through this dreadful marsh will have done nothing to help either. She lays her hand to her brow and then fans her cheeks gently.
Laughing to himself the halfling mimics Rennyn, Walthrik...
Smiling at the beautiful half-elf, the halfling gestures to the house. Yes, why don't we. Barely taking his eyes off the paladin, Walthus moves to the house and opens the door. Turning to see that the group is following, the halfling disappears into the dwelling.
Stop! What is your name halfling! Rennyn's hand moves to the hilt of his sword to emphasize he wants an answer.
Noticing Rennyn's hand move to his sword, Walthus accuses, You would cut down a defenseless soul for a name sir? Shalelu sent you, you should know who you address. The halfling moves confidently towards the door chortling, It would seem as though the girl is right. Eyeing the group, his face turns red and his voice once again becomes irritable, I am tired. This is my house. You have no right coming here to make demands. Hitting the air with his fist he emphasizes, You have. The wrong. Halfling! Opening the door, the he steps inside and slams the wooden barrier behind him. There is a distinctive click shortly thereafter.
Stop him!
Kenan looks back and forth between Rennyn and the halfling amazed at how quickly things have fallen from meeting in the woods to combat. At Rennyn's words he reaches for his bow.
Raised voices send a flock of birds to the skies over the Brinestump. Challenging the halfling's identity, Rennyn makes for his sword. Unable to continue his deceit and outnumbered, the pretender makes a break for the house.
Impostor 23
Rennyn 22
Jeryn 16
Fenra 15
Kenan 6
Rennyn draws his sword as he moves to the doorway and into the house in pursuit of the imposter.
The heat of the day is forgotten as Rennyn darts towards the house, himself disappearing from sight as he pursues the halfling inside. With his bow in hand, Kenan looks quickly at Jeryn and the lovely Fenra before...
Rennyn responds to the imposter with a slash from his sword...
The blade wetted, Rennyn states calmly and matter of factly, No you will not.
Fenra, dismayed that their ruse did not afford them more options, follows Rennyn into the fray.
As Jeryn sees Rennyn place his hand on the hilt of his sword, he begins to think through his spell repertoire and decides upon which power he would like to evoke. As Rennyn leaps forward to engage their foe, Jeryn steps to the side to gain a better vantage point and lets fly a force missile, thrusting his hand forward and snarling the word of command in draconic Jedark nil'gnos!
Calmly drawing his bow as he moves Kenan nocks an arrow seemingly unmoved by the sudden turn of events. why is it everything I go with you lot we get in a fight. Heck this little guy was supposed too help us
Ignoring his own comments he raises his bow ready to let fly an arrow.
Rennyn's sword slashes upwards at the imposter carving a large gash in its torso; followed quickly by a beam of force hurtled from Jeryn's finger. Howling in pain from the elf's blade, the air around it is filled with crimson spray. The creature's form immediately changes and a hairless, leathery biped now stands before you. Its face is dominated by grotesque and unsettling whorls and slits. Three hollow tongues emerge from the creatures visage and screams euphorically at the elf. With a renewed sense of blood lust, it lashes out with a leathery hand, slamming the paladin hard across the face. The creature's other hand follows close behind, making a grab for Rennyn's sword arm. Ahhh! Fresh blood! Hahaha! But its bllood flows freely from the wound. Covering its hands and legs in gore, it is difficult for the creature to get a firm hold on the elf.
Rennyn slides to his left and slashs again...
Your laughter will echo in the abyss shortly fiend.
Fenra, hearing the screams from their foe, rounds the corner to see if there is anything left for her to do after Rennyn's ferocious charge.
Once again, Rennyn's curved blade finds its mark. The faceless creature turns to face the elf. The wrinkled, mottled brown-and-red flesh covering its head ripples as though grimacing, then goes limp. As the elf watches, the creature begins to lean off to the side, then slumps to the floor. Blood from two large gashes ooze from the creatures body, coating the floor.
Is it dead Fenra?
Does anyone have something to bind it? We should question it if we can...