Grinning at Bel's agitation with Bernard. Moving next to the taller woman and mumbling in her ear, "He can do that all he wants but we could donate some of it to earn us a little good will here. There is a lot there and we don't need all of it for ourselves. People liking us matters more."
"Thank you for your support, my friends! It's true I've been a drunk. You all know my tale, or enough of it, at any rate. But it's a new day in Belhaim! My friends and I are going to clear out the kobolds from the flooded quarry, and bring safety and prosperity to all! To mark that, I'm going to use Hunclay's gold to buy the next round for everyone here - and what's more, I'll donate what's left to the town coffers!"
Face flushed, eyes flashing, he reaches down to scoop up a mug and raises it to toast the inn. "To the delightful Talia, to our Lady Origena, and to my new companions, heroes one and all! A new day for Belhaim!"
Bernard's toast is cause for much celebration, finally helping the crowd get over their apprehensions—at least as long as there is free alchohol to be had. Not everyone seems as ecstatic, however. This includes Talia, who smiles nervously at the sudden outburst of revelry, but does her best to accomodate her guests and serve out the requested beverages.
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"Now that's a proper celebration!" says Khardir, as he orders another drink. "Any community can weather the storm by banding together and working hard. Then it's time to show your appreciation and your happiness!" He raises his tankard and says, "To success! Not just of our little expedition, but for this fair town, too."
Vibenia smiles as the tavern erupts into celebration. It was good to see Bernard reconnecting with the community he'd spent so long protecting. This was sure to be an interesting venture, the tall woman looked like she was about to have a panic attack when Bernard mentioned donating to the town.
Bernard hops down off the table, all broad smiles, clasping hands with vaguely familiar townsfolk, wrapping an arm around Vibenia's shoulders for a friendly squeeze before grasping Khardir's wrist and grinning at the dwarf.
The inn is shining, glowing as if he's had far too much wine, but Bernard knows that's not the case. The night's just getting started. Things are turning around. Getting better! His old life is over. Hunclay's death was the turning point. The pivot. The... pivotal pivot. Now? Time to celebrate, like a phoenix, time to toast and mark the occasion.
He grabs a foaming mug from Talia as she goes by, snagging it off her tray, and by the time he's finished clinking it against that of the other villagers' its empty. So he grabs another and joins his friends back at their table, sitting down heavily, limbs a little loose now, to slam his tankard down and adopt a serious look.
"So. Quarry. Flooded quarry, awaiting investigation. More kobolds for the killing, though they don't know it yet, do they? But there's more we could be doing. Little Bophre. I heard tell he's gone missing. Two hundred gold being offered for information as to his whereabouts. Two hundred gold, Beldraim! Think of it. And then... Azmur. Azmur Kell. Good man. Gone now. Rima too. Rima Kell. We could try to find them...."
He trails off, lower lip stuck out lugubriously as he studies his flagon, which he drains and sets aside with a smack of his lips.
"Oh! And ol' Prake's been complaining about wolves, I hear. Heard tell a few weeks back when I came in for supplies. We could help him out. Clear the wolves away. Lot's to do, isn't there?" The prospect seems to please him. "What do you think? Shall we... shall we help out with some of these smaller matters firsht? Or... straight to the kobold quarry, to swim... the flooded quarry. We going to have to swim to get at 'em? The kobolds, that is?"
"Indeed," says Beldraim. She steeples her fingers in thought, rocking back in her chair for a long moment. "The immediate concern should, I think, be the child. I propose we go to Malak farm first thing in the morning and interview the family."
Khardir drains his beer, smacks his lips, then requests another mug.
"I agree," he says. "Focusing on people who are in danger is the best start. The old ruins and archeological curiosities around this town have been here for years; they'll still be around if we're busy for a few days or weeks."
"Can we stop by the bank at some point though?"
"That would probably be a good idea." Vibenia says with a nod. Looking around at both the group and the patrons of the tavern, excitedly ordering free drinks and catching Talia's eye she sighs. "I think we should get an early start and it might be good to call it a night, while everyone's in a good mood." she says glancing over at the noticeably louder Bernard.
"Go on ahead!" Bernard gives the group a big smile and rises to his feet. "I'm going to say hello to some old friends at the bar. See you in the morning!"
Grinning and nodding, "Goodnight then. Bernard try and get some sleep."
Walking on wobbly legs up to her room and curling into her bed only to feel that pit grow stronger in her belly. More than half the people she came here with are gone. Mia abandoned her but she kind of deserved that after all the pain she caused. Nyzaj left not that anyone could blame him. This place sucks.. And Lukas is dead and rotting. He needs a grave. Gotta look into that in the morning.
Seeing as she is an expert on such matters, Isadorer likely asked Vibenia to look for her missing daughter soon after she went missing. The ranger could find no sign of her, however, looking through the usual tunnels where children had strayed from safer paths through the woods, and had to admit defeat. That was three months ago, but Isadorer has not given up hope that her daughter might still be alive.
There is currently a 200 gold reward for Bophre's return—likely most of the humble dairy farmer's life savings.
After eating a hearty breakfast, the group uses Talia's wagon to deliver their haul to the House of Abadar. All of Belhaim is still rousing from its slumber, blanketed in a fine mist rising up from the rivers. No one is out and about save for a few bleary-eyed farmhands, some of whom you recognise from last night's revels. You can already tell it is going to be another day of sweltering heat.
The temple is one of the few stone buildings in town, constructed out of grey limestone from the now-flooded quarry. From the inside, it appears much more like a clerk's office than the house of a god, with lines of desks instead of pews. Yellow-robed acolytes work at their posts, counting coins and shuffling papers in an unending exaltation of the Master of the First Vault. Morning light filters in through the stained glass windows, painting the walls in amber hues. Engravings of keys adorn every surface, often interlocking with pictures of scales and other measuring devices. At the back end of the nave is an altar, surmounted by a gilded statue of a bearded Taldan man dressed in finery and donning a breastplate. He gazes visionarily off in the distance, cradling a crossbow in one hand, and a bundle of scrolls in the other.
You are met by the local banker—or high priest—Eupaphenia Targas, a severe woman in her sixties dressed in gold-embroidered white vestments, with her hair done up in a bun. She is quick to admonish Bernard for not showing up for Oathday services or tithing for some time, but lauds his recent contribution to the local economy, as well as the group's commitment to upholding public safety.
After concluding their business at the bank, the group heads back over the bridge to the south. The Malak homestead consists of a small red house with a barn to one side, and a herd of cattle grazing out in a large pen behind it. Those of the group that arrived from Cassomir recall passing it on their way into Belhaim. A veritable horde of young people, ranging from young children to young adults, are working around the farm, tending to the cows or cleaning up after them. From their almost uniformly copper hair and freckled faces, you surmise that most of them are closely related in some fashion.
Isadorer Malak herself is quickly alerted to your presence, meeting you at the gate. She is a stout, matronly woman with streaks of white running through her red hair. Isadorer happily ushers you in and sits you down in their modest living room. She offers each of you a mug of cooled milk and some biscuits, but soon turns grave as she surmises the nature of your visit.
"This is about my Bophre, ain't it?" she asks. "Have y'all found her? Oh, I'm still worried sick she's somewhere out there, all alone..."
Bernard awakes at dawn. Someone - Talia, he hopes - saw fit at some point to lead him toward one of the inn's narrow beds, and it's there that he comes to, head hammering as if Torag himself were using it for an anvil. Stomach swirling and oily, vision blurred, he gives himself a moment and then slowly sits up.
He knows what to do. Most of his mornings these past few years begin in such fashion, though it's been awhile since he's indulged in such excess. He rises, staggers outside, and makes his way to the stables where he finds a large rainbarrel and dunks his head inside.
Once, twice, three times, and by the last he's starting to feel more like himself.
Ten minutes later he's washed, dressed in clean clothing - again, possibly thanks to Talia - and at the bar drinking a deathly concoction of gin, juice, egg white, sugar, and lemons. He's grimacing and downing his second when the first of the group comes down, and though his face is pasty, his brow beaded with sweat and his eyes glassy, he offers them a ready smile that's part martyrdom, part chagrin, and heads out with the party without complaint.
"I really did swear to hand over 100 gold pieces," says Bernard with a rueful chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck. He stands a good few paces back from Eupaphenia so that she can't smell the reek of alcohol coming through his pores. "Not that I regret it. And... I'm happy to make up for the tithing I've missed these past few years with a special donation to the House. How does... fifty gold sound?"
The walk does Bernard good. The fresh breeze, the rising heat, the exercise - all of it helps, little by little, to banish the worst of the hangover. By the time they reach the farm, Bernard looks like he's only freshly died, and not been dead three weeks already.
Inside, standing beside one of the windows with his arms crossed, he looks at Isadorer and remembers older times, memories of when their families were closer. Those times are long gone, but still his heart tugs at the pain in her voice.
"We've no news as of yet, but we're determined to do what we can. These folks from out of town are sharp, Isadorer. They've already cleared out a nest of kobolds beneath the Witch Tower - aye, Hunclay was up to no good down there - and with their help I'm sure we'll find Bophre. What can you tell us? Where was she last seen, and when?"
Bel quietly moves down the stairs before most any of the others are awake and is surprised to see Bernard there at the bar. The sleep in her eyes play a trick on her, and for a moment she sees Lukas there, as if he'd never gone to the tower with them that day. She lets a moment of emotion show in her face before the image snaps back to Bernard, turning to greet her. She greets the man, and then spends the majority of the time waiting in thought, saying nothing. After the others come down, she readies herself against the heat and to depart for the bank and the farm.
At the temple of Abadar, she exchanges her coin for beautifully polished gems that play across her knuckles when she drops them into the secret pouch in her pack. She feels oddly at home within the granite walls. The lawfulness of the place permeates every stone, and she can feel it soothing that low pulse coming from somewhere out in the Dragonfens.
When she reaches the Malak farm, she arrives covered in a light sheen of sweat. The milk especially is welcome, and Bel takes a few bites of a biscuit, too. "Yes," she says after finishing the milk, "We are here about her and have taken up the case. In addition to Mr. Hammersmith's questions, please provide us with a good discription of Bophre. Does she have a particular favorite place to play or hide?" Have there been any recent disturbances to your farm lately?"
She takes another biscuit while ruminating on the answers to her questions.
Awakening in her home, Vibenia washes up and makes herself a quick breakfast before getting dressed and armored and heading out to meet the others. On the way there she dwells on the case of little Bophre going missing, one that has nagged at her for months since she failed to find the little girl after checking all the usual tunnels and paths where children usually got lost.
Arriving at the tavern, she cringes slightly at the sight of Bernard definitely nursing what looks to be a pretty vicious hangover, though he handles it rather admirably considering.
Once everyone had gathered, she fills them in on what she knew of both the family, and her prior search for the little girl before they headed over to the Malark farm. On the way there she remains somewhat quiet, humbled by her own inability to find the little girl and concerned for how Isadorer would likely take the probable outcome of her 7yr old missing for this long. It didn't bode well.
"If there's anything that you might have thought of since we last spoke, any little detail you might have remebered since then that would help." Vibenia adds, having a difficult time meeting Isadorer's eyes. "I promised you I'd keep looking, now with help, things might be different."
Wake up slowly with a full body stretch. Gathering her things and meandering down stairs heedless of the knot in her belly. Grinning at Bernard, "You my friend need to cut back on the drinking. You look horrible. Life is a lot easier without the hangover."
Nodding at the suggestion to invest in local business's, "I need to explore a bit the. So I have have a account opened up?" Leaving the bulk of her money at the temple of coin and keeping a little on her.
Grinning at the woman and her gift of wonderful food, "Thanks."
Nodding at the questions, "Anything helps. Also what about friends?"
"I really did swear to hand over 100 gold pieces," says Bernard with a rueful chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck. He stands a good few paces back from Eupaphenia so that she can't smell the reek of alcohol coming through his pores. "Not that I regret it. And... I'm happy to make up for the tithing I've missed these past few years with a special donation to the House. How does... fifty gold sound?"
Though she appears genuinely pleased with Bernard's offer, the banker politely refuses to accept a back payment.
"Abadar does not call us to give out our hard-earned wealth without expecting something in return," shes says in an ardent tone. "Tithes are meant to be put back into circulation through investment, which in turn enriches the church, and subsequently the community as a whole. Those with means beyond their neighbours should seek to invest directly in local businesses. So, should you come across more treasures, I advise that you support your peers. Invest wisely, and your earnings will not only cover your tithes, but ensure a steady stream of revenue for other expenses. Times are hard, and we must work together to maintain our prosperity—and grow. Without renewed economic expansion, Belhaim is destined to be nothing more than a sleepy backwater of the Empire... but we could be so much more."
Nodding at the suggestion to invest in local business's, "I need to explore a bit the. So I have have a account opened up?" Leaving the bulk of her money at the temple of coin and keeping a little on her.
Being quite a busy woman, the banker refers Nisany to one of her acolytes. The young priest is quick to rush Nisany through all the paperwork, seeing as the group currently enjoys the baroness' support. They do tell Nisany that they will have to verify her identification from Cassomir, and note that should they be unable to do so, they retain the right to freeze the account until such verification can be obtained.
Everyone's reassurances seem to soothe Isadorer, who bravely fights back her tears, sneezing loudly into a large handkerchief.
"What can you tell us? Where was she last seen, and when?"
Isadorer clears her throat, doing her best to maintain her composure. "Well, I reckon it's been three moons or so. Wealday evening, I think. Yes, she went off in the eastern woods to gather mushrooms with her sisters, like they do each Wealday evening. Normally, my eldest keeps an eye out for the youngins, but Bophre must've strayed off when she wasn't lookin'. I can send one of the girls to show you where they were, if you'd like."
"In addition to Mr. Hammersmith's questions, please provide us with a good discription of Bophre. Does she have a particular favorite place to play or hide? Have there been any recent disturbances to your farm lately?"
Isadorer thinks for a moment, before replying, "You'll know her when you see her: she has my hair. Her father's eyes, though. Blue, that is. Um, somethin' you mind find strange about her is, well... she don't talk—never said a word in her life. She can read and write though, better than any of her brothers or sisters. Such a smart lass, my Bophre..."
The matron pauses to tap away tears with her handkerchief, taking a deep breath before continuing. "All my children have been taught that the woods are dangerous, and to respect the Old Ways. They play here, where it's safe. We've had no trouble here, not since my poor husband passed away—bless his soul."
"I promised you I'd keep looking, now with help, things might be different."
Flashing a genuine smile in Vibenia's direction, Isadorer pats the ranger on the shoulder reassuringly. "Thank you, dear. And don't you worry, I know you tried your best."
Nodding at the questions, "Anything helps. Also what about friends?"
Isadorer shakes her head sadly. "No friends that I know of. She mostly sticks to her siblings. Bophre is quite shy, you see. Her brothers make sure no one picks on her for not bein' able to talk, but it's hard to make friends, being as she is. Say what you want about those Shelynites, but at least they know to treat her nicely..."
Tilting her head to the side, "So she spends time at their Temple? And yeah being shown the last place she was seen will help. Do you have any issue with us talking to her siblings?"
In the morning, before the team heads out to the farm, Khardir takes a little time to comb his beard and wax his mustache, then he goes to visit the mason's guildhall.
"Just as I feared," he grumbles to himself as he enters the small, unkempt building. "Without direction, they've lost their vision."
He clears his throat and asks to speak to one of the local masons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once at the farm, Khardir takes in the large number of children running about. "Quite a blessed family you have here... very... prosperous," he says.
He chews on one of the offered biscuits and lets his associates do the talking while he looks around the fields for anything unusual. You never know - sometimes there's a tor buried in a hill, or an obelisk standing in a farmer's field. But that's rare. Here in Belhaim is probably just wheat and barley.
"Yes," Bel says. "Let us go to the place she was last seen. Vibenia, perhaps you can retrace your steps and see if you notice anything new about the scene."
She stands gracefully and places a hand on the woman's shoulder as a beneficent ruler would one of their peasants. "We're going to find her."
Bernard nods, trying to etch all the information into his memory, but his memory is a slippery thing this morning and he decides to simply coast on the others having noted the most salient facts.
"Yes," he says, rising to his feet. "Time for some fresh eyes and -" He stifles a queasy burp with his fist and grimaces apologetically. " - and some new results. We'll let you know the moment we learn anything."
In the morning, before the team heads out to the farm, Khardir takes a little time to comb his beard and wax his mustache, then he goes to visit the mason's guildhall.
"Just as I feared," he grumbles to himself as he enters the small, unkempt building. "Without direction, they've lost their vision."
He clears his throat and asks to speak to one of the local masons.
Though it is built from the same limestone as the baronial manor and the House of Abadar—as befits a mason's guildhall, which was most likely responsible for their construction—the structure seems half-abandoned. Most of its facade is covered in vines, with shuttered windows, and a faded sign over the front door. The building is surrounded by a weedy yard cluttered with miscellaneous junk. Inside, only a part of the large common room seems to be in active use, with most of the furnishings covered in cloth and pushed against the walls, in order to make room for spare slabs of stone and crates filled with tools. Both of the latter are covered in a thick layer of dust. There is some mining-related paraphernalia—such as pick-axes and maps of mining tunnels—hanging from the walls, though all of it seems to have been badly maintained.
Currently, there are only two bored-looking men in attendance, sitting at a table playing with cards. Both humans in their early fifties. Though their garments seem perpetually dusty from past work, both seem out of shape and generally apathetic. At Khardir's appearance, they offer mumbled excuses and shrugs, pointing you over to a stairway leading up to the second floor.
Climbing the stairs, the dwarf finds himself in a small office, inhabited by a snoring Taldan man of considerable girth. He appears to have fallen asleep at his desk, which is covered in old papers and the remnants of past meals. There is also an impressive collection of carved stone smoking pipes, as well as an ashtray that seems in dire need of emptying.
Woken by Khardir's entrance, the man's expression quickly goes from tired bafflement to hopefulness. He stands up from his desk and comes to meet you, fixing his prodigious moustache and extending a hand to be shaken. "Ahem. Please, do come in! My name is Gregol Lenton, and I'm the master of this here guild. I had heard there was one of the stout folk visiting Belhaim, but I don't believe we've had the pleasure. Say, might you be from Maheto...?"
"So she spends time at their Temple?"
Isadorer takes on a defensive tone, looking as if this was somehow an accusation. "Sometimes, yes. Oh, I know her father wouldn't have approved, but she so loves to write... and plays the flute as well! I can't teach her either. She has so little to look forward to, so how could I say no?"
"Do you have any issue with us talking to her siblings?"
Isadorer shrugs. "Go on ahead. I don't know if they'll be able to tell you anythin' that I couldn't, but if y'all think it would help..."
"Yes," Bel says. "Let us go to the place she was last seen. Vibenia, perhaps you can retrace your steps and see if you notice anything new about the scene."
She stands gracefully and places a hand on the woman's shoulder as a beneficent ruler would one of their peasants. "We're going to find her."
Bernard nods, trying to etch all the information into his memory, but his memory is a slippery thing this morning and he decides to simply coast on the others having noted the most salient facts.
"Yes," he says, rising to his feet. "Time for some fresh eyes and -" He stifles a queasy burp with his fist and grimaces apologetically. " - and some new results. We'll let you know the moment we learn anything."
Wiping her eyes and sneezing loudly into her handkerchief, Isadorer thanks you and offers you some more milk and biscuits for your journey. While you prepare yourselves, she goes off to fetch your guide...
Soon, you are being led through the woods by one of the older Malak children, heading east from Belhaim. Looking very much like her mother, your guide seems much more reserved. The young woman introduces herself as Noemi, saying little else during the trip unless questioned. Vibenia recalls her, as well as the route they are taking to the sisters' secret mushroom-gathering grounds, though the trails have changed somewhat from three months ago. According to Noemi, the sisters have not returned after Bophre's disappearance, and new growth and criss-crossing game trails have done much to erase any marks of human passage.
Once again, the canopy offers some relief from the glaring sun, but those in heavier armour find themselves sweating nonetheless. After some twenty minutes of walking, Noemi stops and points. Ahead of you, the forest opens up into a damp clearing, filled with various types of fungi: some growing on tree trunks and across fallen logs, while other carpet the edges of the clearing where the trees offer shadow for them to thrive.
Noemi herself stays back while you inspect the clearing, seemingly afraid of facing the same fate as her sister.
You are also alerted to the distant sounds something large and porcine, steadily moving towards your position from the northwest.
The trek out to the clearing isn't pleasant for Bernard; the heat brings back his throbbing headache, and he pulls up the rear, wiping over and over again at his sweat soaked brow and cursing his chain shirt and the padded undershirt beneath it that's making him feel like he's stood in a piss warm waterfall for ten minutes.
By the time they reach the clearing he wants nothing so much as to go home and lie down, so while the others search around he makes his way to the shadows and sits down, leaning his back against a tree and forcing himself to drink from his warm waterbottle.
"Hey," he calls out, spotting something beneath the bush next to him. "Over here!" Excitement makes him forget his woes, and he pulls out the remnants of a wicker basket filled with old, dried mushrooms and flowers.
"Noemi, this look familiar? And here. Signs of a scuffle?" He stares at the dirt. "It's old, but... looks like there was a struggle. And this." He pulls a shred of red fabric that's caught to a branch. Fingers it, then extends it to Noemi as well, one eyebrow raised.
Khardir "hrrms" as he's characterized as "stout," then offers his thick hand to the guildmaster. "Master Lenton," he says, "pleased to meet you. My name is Khardir. By trade I'm an antiquarian and reliquarian; I am just visiting Belhaim for the time being, but of course I have an interest in stone and I couldn't resist paying a visit." He gestures about the room, then runs a finger over the dirty desk and says, "Sorry to catch you at a bad time."
"Anyway, I had a thought; it looks like business has been slow. But, I think there might be an opportunity, given recent events. The collapse of the tower means there's a huge pile of unused stone there that can be salvaged for new projects for the town. And at the very least, the opening should be shored up and locked so that children about the town don't get inside and get hurt. Also, there are some hazardous areas that could do with some work to fix up. I have some plans..."
"If we can get the Baroness to agree, I think the mason's guild might find it profitable to deconstruct the damaged and collapsed areas of the tower. That would then afford you some salvaged stone for new projects, and one of those should certainly be to secure the dangerous areas. And I'm willing to make a downpayment on such a project - consider it an investment in the town," he says finally.
~~~~~~~~~~
At the farm, Khardir sniffs slightly and looks about the bucolic fields.
"Hmm, boar tracks, nothing special..."
He rubs his nose and sniffs again, like he has hay fever.
When Bernard calls out, he perks up and quickly rushes over. "Oh! Oh! Good find, my friend! Good find! You knew exactly where to look!" he says, quite pleased.
Vibenia's eyes focused intensely on the ground, almost to the exclusion of anything else, she notes the signs of boar searching for truffles, sorting through the tracks with dogged focus. Combing through the carpet of mushrooms in the damp clearing, she sees the same signs of struggle that draw Bernar’s attention, as well as the speck of fabric, and as the former guardsman calls it to everyone’s attention, she grimaces as she notes the worst part. ”$#!+. Kobolds……a number of them…..looks like they were hiding in the bushes for a long time, waiting to ambush someone. How did I miss that?”
Raising her head she looks at her companions, raising a finger to her lips as she shifts her crossbow into a ready position. "Incoming...big boar." she says leveling her weapon to the brush northwest of them.
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This morning, Khardir is also wearing a dwarven helm - an old one, by the looks of it - and definitely not the same as the one he was wearing before. The metal looks a bit aged though still reasonably sturdy. Engraved with pictures of dwarves dancing (a strange sight indeed!) it is clearly an object more of historical value than some sort of special protection.
"Good job Vibenia,"Bel says as she looks toward the brush. "We should see if this boar will pose a danger to these people. Perhaps you could convince it to move on from here, Vibenia. Trackers and woodsmen tend to have an...affinity for animals."
Vibenia raises an eyebrow, glancing at Bel, before turning her attention back towards the approaching sound. "That's sort of an old wive's tale.... in that I can probably have the neighbor's dog rolling over for treats in a couple minutes, but wild animals.... they're called wild for a reason. If this boar met a humanoid before they were probably trying to kill it. They eat, sleep, $%@ and fight....not much room for convincing them you're friendly."
As he continues to listen to Khardir's proposition, however, Lenton soon regains his enthusiasm. "That's... not a bad idea, I suppose. As you say, I would have to check with the baroness, but I don't see why we couldn't put the stone to good use. Hmm... I'll have call some of the boys out of retirement, but they were out of a job too early anyways. Yes, with some funds, I think we could make this work..."
Noemi stoically confirms that the basket is Bophre's, as well as identifying the red fabric as belonging to the dress she was wearing when she disappeared. Besides from being concealed by the bushes, both objects were away from where Vibenia had looked the first time, as there were no mine shafts or the like in that particular direction. Kobolds kidnapping people from Belhaim is unheard of, in any case.
When Noemi hears about the approaching boar, she quickly scampers up into a nearby tree, looking very much like she is used to doing so.
Soon, everyone can hear it. Thundering through the underbrush comes an enormous porcine beast, much like a wild boar, yet even more primevally savage in countenance: it has a barrel-shaped body with a thick, sloping neck, topped by a large head filled with enormous tusks. The creature stops for only a second to claw at the ground and let out an ear-splitting squeal, before stooping to resume its charge.
While still more sizable than a common boar, this one is but a juvenile, perhaps having left its mother only recently: a fully grown specimen could grow as large as a horse.
Experienced hunters know that boars are capable of savaging their opponents even at the brink of their own deaths, and dire boars are no different in that regard, fighting ferociously until they can no longer stand. Those who hunt boars often do so with a special spear fitted with a cross beam to prevent an impaled boar from pushing forward along the spear shaft to gore its tormentor. Few people dare to hunt dire boars, for obvious reasons.
Eyes widening in alarm, Vibenia lines up her shot, firing at the onrushing beast and quickly reloading. "Deadon!!! A dire boar, at least it's still a young one. Don't let up until it's dead and try not to get gored!" she calls out rapidly.
Bel's eyes widen at the size of the creature. For a moment, she is unsure of herself, but the moment passes quickly and her quick reflexes snap into action. She curls her fingers into arcane positions, bones curling over one another, as she murmurs the language underpinning the world, to change it.
A ray bursts out of her hands flying fast for the creature.
Keeping her head down adn following along mostly lost in thought. Twitching when a boar is mentions and grabbing for one of the vials that hangs from her hip along with the dagger.
Sucking in a breath when the boar comes into view. Holding that breath and waiting for the boar it get a little closer.
Vibenia shoots at the boar with her crossbow. The bolt leaves a small gash on its shaggy flank, but fails to properly pierce its hide. This is quickly followed by Beldraim's spell, which visibly weakens the boar, causing its muscles to atrophy in front of your eyes. Further enraged by the pain, the beast lowers its head and charges blindly towards Vibenia. Just as it is about to gore her, it is hit from the side by Nisany's bomb, giving Vibenia an opportunity to leap aside while it shakes away the flames. The smell of chemicals and burned flesh fills the clearing, along with the pained squeals of the boar.
Khardir nudges Bernard and says, "All right, finish that beastie off!"
Bernard nods uncertainly to Khardir and drags his blade free of it's scabbard, cursing the nausea that grips his bowels and stagger steps forward, trying to time his blow just right. When Nisany's bomb goes off, he charges in with a cry and stabs at the beast's neck.
Trying to avoid hitting Bernard in his erratic charge toward the boar, Vibenia's next shot thunks into a tree.
Seeing that the boar charged, Bel draws out her crossbow and shoots it at the creature, hoping to finish it off quickly.
Damn! Moving forward since Nisany cannot trust not to injure her companions with the bomb but not able to close the gap with her little dagger.
With crossbow bolts whizzing past him, Bernard charges into the fray. The boar squeals in anger and pain as Bernard's sword punctures deep into its upper back, but it yet stands. Stubbornly clinging to life, it tears into Bernard's midsection with its razor-sharp tusks. Fortunately, his chain shirt keeps the beast from disemboweling him, but he nonetheless has the wind blown out of his lungs by its bulk crashing into him.
Khardir touches the old dwarf helmet that he wears and mumbles, "Dwarven lords of old, aid us against this beast." He blinks a few times, then says, "Seems almost heretical to ask the ancestors for assistance against some not-quite-bacon."
Bernard lets out a deep grunt as the boar slams into him, its fierce tusks failing to pierce his mail but still lifting him off his feet and nearly throwing him to the ground. Staggering backward, knees almost buckling, he lets out a bellowing cry of his own and stabs his greatsword horizontally straight into the boar's squealing maw.
With the risk of shooting Bernard, Vibenia drops her crossbow, drawing her sword as she steps forward to strike at the monstrous boar.
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With the blessings of Torag and his children steeling their hearts, the group manages to put up a more unified defence: Bernard's greatsword—hardly ideal for such close confrontations—becomes partially lodged in the boar's tusks, sending bloodied froth flying everywhere as he drives the weapon deeper into its maw, both aided and hindered by the maddened beast's relentless assault. Yet, even this grievous ravaging is not enough to fell it. With the boar so thoroughly tangled up with Bernard, however, Vibenia has an opportunity to slip in and sink her longsword between its ribs, knowing precisely where to strike. The boar lets out one last gargled squeal, before abruptly falling quiet as the blade pierces its heart. It suddenly goes limp, almost bringing Bernard down beneath its bulk before he manages to wrest it to the side.
Silence returns to the forest as suddenly as it had been broken. Noemi descends from the tree, her eyes wide with both shock and awe as she looks at the carnage.
"Damn that's a huge one." Vibenia mutters drawing her sword out of the dire boar's body and cleaning the blade before putting it away. "On the plus side, when we're done following the tracks, taking this back to the butcher's should result in a good supply of meat for the next few weeks."
Reaching out and poking the now dead boar and looking back at Vivenia, "Are boars this big common here?"
"Not really. In more secluded places, wilder bigger animals can surface sometimes but it's pretty rare." the ranger replies.
Bel stands up straighter and stows her crossbow. "Well done everyone," she says. "It seems likely the kobolds living in the quarry kidnapped the child. I suggest we mount a rescue, and make that our next destination."
"Let me give you a hand there, Bernard," says Khardir, stowing his weapon and taking out his now-familiar statuette.