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Malusha steps in besides Kalkamedes, on the opposite side from Yarricki, and keeps pace with him. Malusha looks up at the dark night sky speckled with stars. The vast panorama reminds him of nights in the desert where he, away from the city lights, would lay back on the sand and watch the silent and majestic march of the stars across the sky. Those would be his contemplative times. He would spend countless hours thinking about life, love, and adventure. Many a poem was born out of those times.
A protruding root caught his foot and Malusha stumbled for a step. "Ah," he chuckled, "I guess I need to pay a little more attention where I'm going. The Kalkamedes shaped lantern helps, but it still casts funny shadows on the ground."
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Meredith uses a wand to enhance Denair with a magical field of armor. "It's more protection than the bracers, but only for 1 hour. Scout ahead, alright?" Denair decides to keep pace with Marcel- few people can run around like she can.
Meredith keeps her longspear ready as she travels alongside Kalkamedes. She casts Light on the tip of her spear. "Time to see where this man is going."
"Watch your step, Malusha. There is always some kind of underbrush, ready to trip you up. I've heard some people can just waltz right through it though. It must really help when it's time to forage."
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Serge pushes himself hard to stay ahead, words to Ragathiel on his lips as he steps out into the darkness.
What drives this man? What demon has possessed him to move without will, and to even endanger his own life?
The unnatural movement of Kalkamedes as he lurches ahead stands out most to Serge, and he does not like it. Not one bit.
"While Luurg's eyes may work well under these conditions, I'm afraid my own do not. Let us be prepared for what dangers may lurk ahead." He holds the broken longsword at the ready.
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Luurg smiles along to everyone's seriousness, obviously happy to be out in the forest, in the dark, on a mission. He keeps one hefty fist on the rope and with the other he draws out his fruit slicer, frequently making small slashes into tree bark or cutting off a small branch to mark their trail as they continue on. "Tings look way different on da walk back and in the light time. Don't wanna miss anyting!"
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Marcel eased his way between the trees, taking pains to move as quietly as possible through the small bushes and the carpet of dried leaves under the forest's canopy of branches. He looked over at Denair as she kept pace. "The one constant about these Society missions," he softly spoke as he moved gracefully around the exposed roots of an old oak tree, "is that they're going to be interesting, no matter how simple or extraordinary they seem. I've investigated reports of goblins looking under the town of Thornkeep for a lost artifact, helped save the town of Dabril in Galt while trying to convince a former agent to return to the Society and have braved the sewers of Absalom to rescue a prince. I'm sure you and Meredith have your own mission stories you could tell."
"Oh yeah, the Boss has shown me all sorts of fun!" Denair peers around trees, sniffs the air, and pauses to observe small animals and plants. "The Mwangi jungle was fun, and we met this old guardian who is helping a bunch of kobolds. I hope it finds a purpose in its renewed life- it was hard for me, but the Boss has helped me so much. I'm sure you're having fun helping protect people!"
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As Kalkamedes sets off on his journey, the rest of you fall into place around him, ahead of him, and behind him like the world's strangest entourage. Marcel and Denair scout ahead as best as they're able, a task made more difficult than usual by having to constantly look back to make sure that Kalkamedes hasn't drastically altered his course. Serge walks just ahead while Yarricki walks to one side and Malusha and Meredith on the other. Luurg brings up the rear, doing his best to hold on to the man's leash. Fortunately, Kalkamedes' pace is relatively slow which makes it easy for most of the group to keep up with him.
On the other hand, everyone quickly finds that their sleepwalking charge has little to no concept of maneuvering around objects as there are several instances where Malusha and Meredith have to steer the man around trees and bushes lest Kalkamedes plow right into them. And those are just the obstacles that can be easily seen. Perhaps thirty minutes after setting out from his cabin the group reaches a particularly rocky bit of ground and Kalkamedes stumbles as he steps on a loose rock; Luurg quickly pulls on the rope and Malusha reaches out to grab the sleepwalker's arm to steady him so while he temporarily looses his footing, he doesn't actually hit the ground. The group breathes a collective sigh of relief that they had thought to put Kalkamedes' boots on before starting - otherwise he might very well have sprained his ankle even with the party keeping him from falling. But even so, Kalkamedes does not halt or slow his progress and Luurg finds that he has to dig in his heels and hold tightly to the rope if he wants to have any hope of slowing the man down.
Crisis averted, the group continues along. The forest is filled with the sounds of chirping crickets and you occasionally hear the hoot of an owl somewhere overheard. Fireflies drift gently through the air, the twinkling of their lights lending a peaceful, almost otherworldly quality to the night. So far, it seems, you have been lucky - no signs or sounds of nocturnal predators and no major hazards or obstacles to deal with. If the rest of the night would just continue like this, it might turn out to be the easiest assignment any of you have ever undertaken for the Pathfinder Society...
About an hour or so after Kalkamedes has his brush with the rocky terrain, you both spot what looks to be a particularly thick copse of underbrush and other foliage maybe 60 feet ahead - Denair can see it just fine and Marcel notes it at the very edge of the pool of light being shed by his sunrod.
This is a patch of razor bramble, a naturally growing weed whose thorns are capable of leaving nasty lacerations.
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"Oh, really? Your eyes must be better than mine." Denair whines. "Let's find a way around the patch. I'll tell the boss."
"Sure thing, boss!"
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"I'll look for a way around," Marcel calls back as he unslings his battleaxe. "In case he gets loose, let me know and I'll try to cut a path through this bramble patch as fast as I can." Marcel moves to the edge of the razor bramble bushes and moves back and forth, looking for an alternate route around the hazardous plant growth.
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As Luurg struggles to hold back on the rope he remembers something "Oh, hey... I gut sum leftover powerful weed killer bottles if we need it, kill dat razor bushes but not super fast... if someone can slow down dis zombie guy!"
If/when someone else takes the reins, Luurg will hustle up to the front and pull out a small bottle with a green X across its label, ready to use it to clear a path if another can't be found or the thicket isn't too deep.
This milky fluid can be mixed with water to quickly kill light and medium vegetation. One flask of defoliant kills light brush and small trees in 50 5-foot squares. Light vegetation (anything but trees) dies within 1 hour and can be cleared at a rate of 10 minutes per 5-foot square (representing uprooting dead plants and breaking stumps into gravel-sized pieces), leaving barren ground. Medium vegetation (anything but massive trees) dies in 2 hours and can be cleared at a rate of 1 hour per 5-foot square. Massive trees can usually survive a single dose of defoliant, and using defoliant doesn't make clearing them any easier. Defoliant can be used as a splash weapon against plant creatures. A direct hit with the undiluted fluid deals 1d6 hit points of damage, 1 point of Strength damage, and 1 point of Constitution damage (Fortitude DC 20 negates the Strength and Constitution damage); plant creatures within 5 feet of the target take 1 hit point of damage.
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Although Marcel spots the razor bramble looming ahead of the group in plenty of time, the rest of the group at first finds themselves a bit hard-pressed to slow Kalkamedes' progress. Luurg tries to dig in his heels and wrap the rope around a nearby tree but isn't able to get it properly wound before Kalkamedes reaches the end of his rope, pulling it taut. Malusha and Meredith attempt to grab him by the shoulders and hold him still but the sleepwalking man shrugs them both off with surprising ease and continues forward, actually managing to drag Luurg about 15 feet forward before Denair comes racing up and winds his little branches around him - finally halting his progress, at least for a moment!
Meanwhile, Serge moves ahead towards the brambles as he begins swinging the broken longsword back and forth like a machete. As he does, an unfamiliar voice suddenly rings out, "Hey! What do ye think ye're doin', man? I might be broken but ye kinna just start swin'in' me around like I'm some sort of overgrown weed-whacker!"
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Yarricki is trying to find a way around the razor bramble I know there are people who can move through these kinds of bushes without any issue. If other druids can do it, why do I have that much trouble getting through undergrowth?
Suddenly the voice rings out. Yarricki sits straigth and readies her lance "Who was that?"
"Oh no, don't go just yet! We'll be ready soon...woo you're tenacious!"
Denair tries to maintain her hold over him.
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Marcel takes a pause after swinging through an exceptionally stubborn section of razor bramble. "Say, that's a pretty good voice you do, Serge," he said, complimenting the crusader on his vocal abilities. The way Marcel looked at it, Serge probably wasn't used to clearing out underbrush and his vocal impression was a way to offset or lighten the labor of cutting a path through the bramble patch.
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Serge stops swinging, startled as an unfamiliar voice rings out. He isn't certain what is speaking, however. "That... Was not me. Hello? Who's there? Show yourself!" He commands. "By Ragathiel, what wizardry is this? Evil weeds that can speak?! Why, I'll just have to cut you down even faster!" He swings the sword with fervor and might, chopping down and across, left and right.
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Just when the group thinks they've finally got their wily charge under control, Kalkamedes taps into a hidden well of strength and suddenly flings his arms wide, shaking Denair and the rest of the would-be wrestlers off! "You're not Alexander!" he bellows nonsensically and you realize you have no idea what your wandering friend even dreams about on his nightly strolls. But whatever he's dreaming about now, it must be quite epic!
"Ye're gonna be hard pressed ta keep him still, ye ken," the mysterious voice rings out again. "He might look scrawny but whatever's gotten into him lately's given him a goshdanged bull's strength and tenacity! And what do ye mean, 'Who's thar?' Look down, ye dunce!"
The more everyone listens, the more they're pretty sure that the voice isn't coming from within the brambles or within the brambles, but from the broken sword in Serge's hand...
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Thunder tries to grab Kalkamedes' cloak and use that to bring the man down to the ground.
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"Whoa!" Denair is thrown back. "Well, I'm not Alexander, but I don't think you're talking to me."
She goes to grab him again.
Working together in tandem Yarricki commands Thunder to trip the flailing sleepwalker and Thunder complies, sticking out one long leg just as Kalkamedes begins to move forward and sending the man faceplanting to the ground! Immediately Denair is on him again, winding his branch-like arms around him and holding him in place while Luurg quickly tries again to wind the rope around a nearby tree. It takes quite a bit of effort and Kalkamedes very nearly breaks free once again but when the dust fades, Kalkamedes is tightly leashed to a nearby tree and everyone but Serge, Marcel, and Meredith are covered in dirt, pine needles, and perhaps even a few bruises.
"A wizard! Haha, she thinks I'ma wizard!" the sword chortles in reply to Yarricki. "'Fraid nae, lass. But I ain't some poor sod what's been stuck in here by a wizard, either. I'm me an' nae one else. Name's Gamin, pleased ta make yer acquaintance an' all that polite rubbish," he adds, addressing Marcel and the group as a whole.
As Meredith peers at the brambles, looking for the best path through, Gamin coughs. "Now I ain't nae scholar or anythin' but mebbe fire might do tha trick thar, lass. Or ye ken see if that orc-blood's weed killer be as strong as he be!"
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Luurg laughs and points at the others after their wrestling match ends and there's a tethered sleepwalker bouncing from a nearby tree "Yup! Time to use this weed killer I made up while back. It take about an hour den we be good to go... lets get a good path oky?" He stands back and eyes up the path Kalkamedes was heading in before they wrastled him down, then begins sprinkling the concoction around the brambles.
This milky fluid can be mixed with water to quickly kill light and medium vegetation. One flask of defoliant kills light brush and small trees in 50 5-foot squares. Light vegetation (anything but trees) dies within 1 hour and can be cleared at a rate of 10 minutes per 5-foot square (representing uprooting dead plants and breaking stumps into gravel-sized pieces), leaving barren ground. Medium vegetation (anything but massive trees) dies in 2 hours and can be cleared at a rate of 1 hour per 5-foot square. Massive trees can usually survive a single dose of defoliant, and using defoliant doesn't make clearing them any easier. Defoliant can be used as a splash weapon against plant creatures. A direct hit with the undiluted fluid deals 1d6 hit points of damage, 1 point of Strength damage, and 1 point of Constitution damage (Fortitude DC 20 negates the Strength and Constitution damage); plant creatures within 5 feet of the target take 1 hit point of damage.
"Nae lass, I wish I did," Gamin replies, his voice heavy with regret. "Everythin' was fine until mebbe...three weeks ago? One noche he just gets up an' wanders out tha door in his pajamas with nary a word ta me about where he's goin' or anythin'! An' then tha next mornin' he comes stumblin' back in all covered in cuts an' bruises. Thought it was mebbe just a fluke until tha poor sod kept doin' it every danged noche. An' I dunno about this 'Alexander'. I ain't always been Kalkamedes' blade and he's had quite tha interestin' life, so mebbe it's someone he used ta ken from waaaaay back. Or it cou' just be nonsense; nae sure if ye've noticed but me man Kalkamedes spouts off all kinda thin's when he's sleepin'."
While Kalkamedes remains indisposed and the group experiences one of the stranger moments in their lives chatting with a talking sword, Luurg gets busy sprinkling his weed killer all around the patch of razor brambles. It turns out to be quite the large patch too; Luurg estimates it be roughly 60 feet wide and 100 feet deep. Good thing he happened to bring lots of weed killer! Although it will indeed take some time, it does look as if the defoliant should do the trick - once the brambles are dead and cleared away, it will be safe to let Kalkamedes continue his march.
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Denair keeps her hands over her nose and keeps silent as the party clears away the patch. How terrible...And the Boss is helping with this? She loves...loved brambles.
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Luurg spends lots of time sprinkling and tinkling 'bramble be gone' in a 10-15' wide corridor down through the razor bramble patch, then helping the others clear it afterwards. He's very careful to leave his spear away from the work, as its still very green and full of leaves. He sticks it into the ground in a wet, mucky spot.
"I made dis stuff up a while back, sometimes I sell it to farmers to help clear land to grow, or dey use it 'round orchards to keep back the vines n stuff that kill dare trees. It werk gud, but tings grow back after so long."
So after a couple hours of work they've got a nice path! "Whew, guess if we run outta time tonight, at least dis all set for tomorrow night right?" He chuckles to himself. You've started to notice that while Luurg is quite fat and overall huge, he rarely breaks a sweat and is never out of breath. You've also yet to see him eat NOTHING but fruit, water, or alcohol. Mostly eating, very little drinking.
"So talkin sword guy... I'm Luurg! Do you sing? I always taught talky swords sung stuff... ya?" He heads over to get ready to untie Kalkamedes whenever everyone is ready.
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Marcel assisted in helping the others clear a path, moreso to keep himself busy and to try to keep his brain occupied with the task at hand instead of thinking about such a thing as a talking sword. Sure, he knew that magic could rewrite all logical rules of the world. He'd been in some scrapes as a Pathfinder agent where having the wild card of magic had saved his life and made a difference in the success of prior missions.
But a magical talking sword? This was just something that was going to take time to process.
The weapon had a voice and could speak about things it knew of. Still as Marcel cleared away razor bramble, some of Gamin's words became an inner voice that his heart couldn't shake. The sword was worried for Kalkamedes, a trait that at times could be lacking in racial beings of Golarian, even those with family and close friends.
As the task cleared away, Marcel reached a decision on how to face this anomaly that defied reality: treat Gamin like someone in need and be as polite to him as he would his own parents.
"Gamin," he said, brushing the remains of nettles and twigs of the front of his shirt and pants. "I'm Marcel. I've never met anything that didn't breathe, sleep, or eat that could communicate in some form, so I hope you'll understand my reaction when you began speaking earlier. We," Marcel paused, gesturing with his hand to indicate everyone there, "are trying to find out why Kalkamedes has been walking in his sleep every night and to help him stop doing it. You know him better than any of us. If there is anything you can tell us about what he was doing before this started, please let us know."
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Serge halts his attack on foliage when he realizes that the voice had been coming from the sword in his hand rather then the bramble. He holds it up to his face, looking at the blade curiously. "Gamin, is it? The man inside a sword. How intriguing." He flips the blade around, looking for a mouth from which it talks as he replies to the sword. "I am Serge Foxmourn, servant of Ragathiel. I cannot imagine what life as a weapon is like. You will have to tell us how you became trapped in this blade. If Kalkamedes returned nightly with bruises and cuts as you say, it is obvious he must have frequently run right through this bramble."
As you work on clearing out the brush and brambles, Gamin does his best to answer everyone's questions. "Well lass, Ol' Kalk's been workin' on mappin' these mountains an' we've made a trips a'plenty - but always durin' tha day," he responds to Yarricki. "Man's blind as a bat like any other human-folk so we've never been out after dark."
"And it's alright lad, if I were in yer shoes I'd probably do tha same, 'cept with a lot more yellin' and whatnot," the sword adds to Marcel. "An' sorry about nae sayin' anythin' earlier but I wanted ta make sure ye folks weren't gonna be too rough on me man Kalk. I seen how ye dressed him an' been tryin' ta keep him safe an' I appreciate it, I sure do. I might nae be able ta do much but I'll help ye folks as best I ken."
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After a couple hours of work, you finally, finally have a path through the brambles and find yourselves ready to continue. It takes a bit of guiding and nudging but Kalkamedes safely makes his way through the brambles and continues on his way.
Time passes and the group seems to make good time to wherever they're headed. Apparently objecting to silence, Gamin coughs at one point and calls out to Luurg. "Hey, fruit man! Luurg, was it? Ye asked earlier about sin'in'. Well take a listen ta this an' tell me what ye think:"
~And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander
I'm sick in tha head and I haven't been ta bed
Since first I came ashore with me plunder
I've seen centipedes and snakes and me head be full of aches
And I have ta take a path for way out yonder
And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander
Where be me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots
They're all sold for beer and tobacco
See tha soles they were thin and tha uppers were lettin' in
And tha heels were lookin' out for better weather
And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander
Where be me shirt, me noggin', noggin' shirt
It's all sold for beer and tobacco
Ye see tha sleeves were all worn out and tha collar been torn about
And tha tail was lookin' out for better weather
And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander
Where be me wife, me noggin', noggin' wife
She's all sold for beer and tobacco
Ye see her front it was worn out and her tail I kicked about
And I'm sure she's lookin' out for better weather
And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander
Where be me bed, me noggin', noggin' bed
It's all sold for beer and tobacco
Ye see I sold it ta tha girls until tha sprin's were all in twirls
And tha sheets they're lookin' out for better weather
And it's all for me grog me jolly, jolly grog
All for me beer and tobacco
Well, I spent all me tin with tha ladies drinkin' gin
Far across tha Western Ocean I must wander~
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"Ha! Pretty good, eh? Learned that one on a trip ta Riddleport," Gamin chortles - if weaponry could smile, you're all pretty sure that he'd be wearing a grin a mile wide.
Around this time the group notices that Kalkamedes' path has led them into slightly more swampy territory, their shoes and boots sinking into the ground with soft squelching sounds. All seems well until the sleepwalking suddenly spins on his heel, making a hard left as he turns westward - heading directly towards a watery bog, swollen with recent rains!
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Luurg looks up from his roping work as the sword speaks his name "Heyyah, Luurg right! Sing it Gamin da sword guy!" Luurg bobs his head along, somewhat at least, its pretty obvious Luurg doesn't have much in the way of rhythm, but he enjoys it well enough anyhow. At the first mention of gin he bellows out "Oh gin real gud! Dey make it wid dez itty bitty juniper fruits! YUM!" Then quickly goes back to his off kilter head bobbing.
Once the song is done Luurg hoots and hollers "Real gud Gamin real gud! Now if only we'd had some gin to go wid it... maybe when we get dun here..." His voice starts to trail off as he sees the incoming bog. A giant smiles begins to form as he can feel the cool, soft and squishy ground working between his toes. "Dis day can't get much better! Woo!" He hollers with excitement even more as Kalkamedes wants to play in the mud too!
"Bog? Oh, bog. Wait- which way are they going?" Denair turns back as Kalkamedes makes an abrupt turn. "Marcel! We gotta head back!" She trots back towards the party.
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Malusha keeps pace with Kalkamedes. From time to time he pulls a branch or bramble to the side so that the sleepwalker doesn't accumulate more scratches and bruises. It's not easy to direct Kalkamedes's path but he can at least keep it a little bit clear.
Before long he notices the softer ground beneath his sandals and the muddy water that squishes up onto his toes with each step. "I'm glad you like this Luurg, but I have to say, I don't find it all that pleasant." He picks a foot up and flicks a large chunk of mud off of the top of his foot. "Uhg."
When Kalkamedes suddenly turns directly towards a deeper bog Malusha gasps. "Oh! Wait. Don't go there." He tries to grab the man's cloak but he's too fast.
Caught off-guard by Kalkamedes' sudden change in direction, the party scrambles to try and both stop him from plunging forward into the water and to come up with a plan for bypassing it. Delighted by the change in topography, Luurg doesn't immediately think to try and pull back on the sleepwalker's leash but luckily doesn't budge when Kalkamedes tries to surge forward.
"Whoa nelly! He's gonna sink like a stone if he gets out in that water!" Gamin cries out. "Ye're gonna have ta swim him across it or go around or somethin'!"
Although it's a bit difficult to judge solely by your lights and the light of the moon above, the bog - actually more like a large pond at this point - appears to span about 80 feet across and 200 feet wide to either side of Kalkamedes' path. You'd almost think that he might even be able to make it across the bottom and out the other side on his own if it weren't for the fact the he's currently snoring like a bear and thus isn't likely to try holding his breath.
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