Cole nods to Hel.
"Of course. The pelts are what they want to trade. The Seal should be good to eat. We will feast tonight. Let us get to work on it then."
They begin working into the evening skinning the pelts. At mention of boats Cole heads to the edge of the boat and summons water a few times to clean up his hands over the edge. He looks back to the captain and others then.
"So you say they are hunters and traders. Best to keep our weapons not drawn then. Let us see what they want."
Standing back from Hel and Timeon, but within earshot as it is a small ship, Lutor listens with interest.
A way to get him to prove himself. Get him to give us useful information about infiltrating the Watch Wall. Perhaps traders in Aldencross that might be pliable, or naive.
Lutor keeps no weapons in hand as the hunters approach.
Hel nods thoughtfully at Timeon's words, listening carefully -- or rather, listening far, far too intensely for most people's comfort levels. For the moments Timeon is speaking, it seems that her entire focus is on him. Whether he finds it raptorlike or more 'trying to catch you in a lie', well -- neither of them matter to Hel; it's just the way she is, and it's yet another example of her general social ineptitude.
In the gaps of his conversation, she glances up at Lutor and the others -- particularly Sir Gallen. He cannot simply give such information blindly. For him to give himself over entirely -- note how I did not say 'prove himself' -- to our way of thinking, he must do so with full knowledge of the consequences of his choice. He -must- understand that his family and any friends he may have in Aldencross and Balentyne are under sentence of death simply for where they live and the needs of our task. He must know, -before- he speaks, that the information he gives us will lead to a speedier conclusion to their death. Thus, when he speaks, -if- he speaks, it will be with full knowledge ... and thus, a deliberate decision to cooperate in their executions. And if he does ... he will be ours.
Finding that he grew up in Aldencross ... I have severe doubts as to whether he could keep himself under control, even were he to give us the information. Given the same situation, I am not certain -I- could ... but I have no true family left in Talingarde, only those who judged me worthy of the 'cleansing fire' without my doing anything. I am not one for granting mercy, but should he give himself over to us entirely, I think this would fall under a reward for good service -- and wisdom by way of avoiding self-deception. We must remain secret, and such a test would try even the most vigilant of souls.
"Well," says she to the youth, "you are squired to a different knight now." It is obvious, but ... perhaps a little lame. Or more than a little lame. It could, of course, be taken as an intimidating hint, though she does not mean it as such.
Glancing over at Sir Gallen, she puts the question to him, though certainly all who see her can read the message in her face. We must tell him. And then ask him. I think that, no matter what his decision, we might leave him with Grumblejack, hidden along the lake-shore, each to keep the other in check -- Timeon to make sure Grumblejack does not run amuck, to keep the two of them hidden, a low profile and minimal fire; Grumblejack to make sure Timeon does not in turn leave -- for Aldencross or anywhere else. With Faila and Nopsca to hand to check up on them, we can direct them to any point we might need their strength. She glances along the line of Sir Gallen's gaze, then reminds herself to add, Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions? Changes?
It's certainly worth getting as much information as we can from Timeon before we arrive. Given his familiarity with the area, he can be an asset even if he proves disloyal. Perhaps we could even use him as a hostage or bargaining chip if it comes to it.
Leaving Grumblejack and Timeon with each other seems like the best course of action. If Timeon tries to run off, then we'll know he can't be trusted.
After the discussion is finished, Wesh helps skin the seals so their pelts can be used for trading with the Yutak.
Gallen had a small smile on his lips "Shaping up to be a good one, you'll be a stronger knight for it."
It will be a difficult task for him, tricking him would be easier but I see the value of your tactic if it can be done well. It may ease the matter if some sort of reward might be possible... ensuring the extraction of his immediate family to leave his neighbour and friends die would do but far too awkward. Some benefit so he can try to justify it to himself a bit more easily... it's like fishing pull too hard and too soon and the line will snap.
Leaving the two together seems more wise. Gallen ponders the matter.
"Offloading the seal skins does seem useful, while we engage with them we should see if they have knowledge of anything of interest or any hazards ahead."
Adding the prospect of extracting Timeon's loved ones would be an added complication to an already dangerous situation, but the benefit could be significant. Present it as them being saved by his cooperation, his aid in overthrowing the Wall.
I concur on leaving Timeon and Grumblejack to guard each other.
Hel's thinly-pursed lips are almost answer enough. If he understands that his relatives are to be saved by his cooperation, he will immediately agre to cooperate in order to save them, and we will have no certainty of the status of his soul. He /must/ assist us with the full knowledge that all his loved ones are condemned to death, and that his assistance only hastens their end.
To the youth, she continues the conversation. "Locals for quite a long time -- how long is that?" she inquires, as any noblewoman might, to establish the pedigree of the individual (and the title!) of the person to whom she speaks. "Years or generations, either are fine. And tell us about your immediate family. A father and mother, naturally, but who else -- siblings, close cousins and parents' sibs? Perhaps a favorite little sister, mmm? Are your grandparents still alive?"
Should we desire to reward him by saving someone, she adds to the others of the Knot, then he must only find out about it afterwards. One favorite sibling or cousin -- but only if it does not impede us, whether by distracting us from Balentyne's destruction, or due to their blind devotion to Mitra afterwards, becoming a threat to our secrecy with every step.
Sir Gallen, that conversation should be yours to hold with the boy -- you are, after all, his master. And I dare say we should not hold it within earshot of Odenkirk; greedy he may be, but I'm willing to bet he'd still rather be able to spend his money in Daveryn or Ghastenhall -- even Farholde -- without a horde howling down on him.
As she prods Timeon into conversing about his family, and having long since finished with the seals, she rises and leans against the bulwark, watching the approaching small-boats. "Hunters -- they live up here, so they probably have plenty of seal-skins themselves. Captain," she says to Odenkirk, "have you any idea what they'd accept in trade? We don't have a lot of money, and if these are anything like the Yutak I've read about, they don't have a lot of use for that anyhow." She looks towards the gear they'd stripped from the sailors and captain of The Blade of St. Martius, trying to remember what's in it -- and trying to guess what the Yutak might be willing to take in exchange for what they bring. Damn this is aggravating, she thinks to herself. Two languages I don't know, either -- both!! -- of which would have proved useful. Damn Nanci to the worst pits of the Nine Hells for insisting 'a proper noblewoman does not concern herself with trade, or associate herself with coarse and ungodly people such as ply the sea'.
Wesh squints at the boats in the distance, then says,"Best be on guard once the hunters approach. This wouldn't be the first time we've had a battle at sea. Maybe they have seal-skins, maybe they don't, but they live up here, so they could have need of more given the climate. Let's see what they have to say."
"Seven or eight generations, I think. We aren't really sure. My immediate family consists of my mother, father, and my younger sister. My grandparents are all dead, but I have several aunts, uncles, and cousins in the area."
Odenkirk shrugs. "It varies, depending on condition. They're generally accepting of metal weapons and other items - including ore, strangely enough. They have no use for gold."
As the boats grow closer, you see that there are five of them in total - four single-person kayaks, each with a Yutak tribesmen, and a larger open seal-skin canoe called an umiak with five Yutak in it, one of which wears an elaborate headdress. They slow as they approach the Frosthamar and stop next to the larger vessel. You notice the one with the elaborate headdress is holding an eight-foot long ivory horn.
The horn is a narwhal horn. These rare horns are surprisingly durable and can be used as a staff in combat. Their innate magical properties make them easy to enchant.
One of those in the canoe not wearing the headdress stands and says, "Greetings, southerners. I am Joseph Calls-Fire-From-Water, shaman to the great Yutak Chieftain White Tusk. We come to trade walrus tusk and the horn of the mighty narwhal. Will you bargain with us?"
Yutak are famous for their family loyalty and are known to hold vendettas.
Soldiers:
15 x spears
15 x short swords
15 x short bows
15 x daggers
15 x leather armor
15 x belt pouch
270 arrows
63 gp
Captain:
masterwork longsword
masterwork agile breastplate
heavy steel shield
dagger
belt pouch
22 gp
cloak of resistance +1
potion of cure light wounds
Ship:
Mitran Sunburst (50 gp)
Enough trail rations to feed 15 people for 3 weeks
Cole holds up a hand in greeting.
"Hello people of the Yutak tribe. My name is Cole. Have you approached us to trade or do you have other business?"
Wesh nods to the man who spoke and says, "Aye. We would be interested in bargaining. Are you looking for anything in particular? And what do you have to offer?"
Lutor says nothing openly, but contacts his companions with his insights.
It would be well worth our while to obtain that narwhal horn, for it is one, and easily enchanted into a fine equivalent of a quarterstaff. Oh, and the Yutak take their family loyalty deadly seriously. They hold grudges tightly to their bosom.
Gallen stays silent for a bit, trying to go over the conversation... perhaps he has misunderstood something. It seemed unlikely Hel meant what he had gotten the impression of.
He let the others negotiate with the locals for now while he considered the matter.
Joseph says, "We have had a successful walrus hunt, and come with the ivory from those beasts. Chief White Tusk also hunted and slew the mighty narwhal, and seeks to trade the horn. In exchange, we seek metal weapons and tools. We will also accept food, and Chief White Tusk has expressed an interest in the garb worn by those Talireans of wealth. Have you any such to trade?" As he speaks, he gestures to an assortment of ivory walrus tusks.
The walrus tusks are worth 1500 gp in total.
"An honor to meet you. Ah yes tell your mighty Chief White Tusk we have such items. Timeon fetch the gear if you would boy."
Cole waits and smiles at the tribesman as Timeon begins bringing out all the gear. When he approaches the stuff from the captain Cole speaks up.
"Not that lad. Just the gear and clothes of the grunts. Here you go Chief."
Cole has the gear laid out in front of himself so the chief can inspect.
15 x spears
15 x short swords
15 x short bows
15 x daggers
15 x leather armor
15 x belt pouch
270 arrows
Wesh lets Cole do the talking, since he seems to be doing a good job of it.
The fighter remains vigilant. While the Yutak seem reasonable enough, things could quickly take a turn for the worse if group accidentally disrespects the tribe or some such.
Lutor remains silent and watchful - both openly and to those who could hear his mindspeech.
Faila:
"If I'd known finery was worth bringing," Hel asides (not all that softly) to Lutor as she leans against the boat's rail, her unstrung bow tucked into the crook of her arm as she watches the haggling between Cole Hale and Joseph Calls-Fire-From-Water, "I would have made a point to bring some." She contemplates this lack for a moment, then mutters more quietly, "I think we're going to pay for that lack in the not-too-distant future, not just now."
"Too bad," says Faila in her piping voice, the luke-warm-blooded reptile underneath Hel's cloak in her typical perch upon her mistress's shoulder. "It might have been amusing seeing a Yutak chief in some --"
-- at which point Hel reaches up and thwacks the rhamphy on the snout with a snapping flick of a forefinger. "Silence, you. I remember you strutting around the manor for an entire day with two lines of rouge powder down your flanks. Everyone enjoys dressing up, and you're not excepted."
Faila's eyes slit and she grumbles, but lowers her head in an acknowledgement of fact.
Hel, meanwhile, considers the situation, then abruptly asks, "Didn't the captain of the St. Martius have a surcoat? He was a ranking officer, he should have had one. Timeon, attend!!" She moves back to the things stripped from the Talirean ship, looking quickly through it for the light drape-over-armor covering that would have displayed the ship captain's allegiance. "A surcoat, didn't the Talirean captain have one?" she asks the boy as she searches. "I don't remember him wearing it when he boarded, but he should have at least had one in his chest ..."
The umiak pulls up next to the Frosthamar, and Joseph, Chief White Tusk, and two of the Yutak in the boat come onto the deck. They appear pleased with what you have, especially the number of metal spears.
They aren't interested in the belt pouches, but the rest of it is greatly appreciated, and they lay out most of the walrus ivory for it. It was apparently not deemed worthy of the narwhal horn, however, and there are still a couple pieces of ivory left.
Joseph nods. "These are most impressive. Have you anything else to trade?"
"Do we want to trade the mithril? Or did we plan on having something made or making something out of it?"
Cole nods at the agreements made. The though crosses his mind of killing them and keeping it all but they have no use of the weapons. The tribe could also prove useful if they have to run or hide if things go south as well.
I say we hold onto it, although the horn could be used to craft a magical item can any of us perform such a feat? I could part with the finery but it could be quite useful.
With battle, we would unnecessarily risk the sailors on board this vessel. We still require their services for the moment. I say we trade the weapons. The finery gives us options that do not rely on magical disguise.
I'm fine with selling most of the armaments. The weapons we need to get to our destination are below deck. I don't think we'll have much use for Talirean weapons either way, so this is probably our best chance to get rid of them. Let the Talirean navy hunt down a bunch of Yutak traders instead of us.
Probably should keep the mithral. Don't see how the narwhal horn is worth it unless we know we can fetch a higher price for it than the mithral when we come ashore again.
I think my gown would be particularly silly; one of you three gentlemen should surrender your finery. Lutor, Wesh, both of you seem to be least likely to actually want to use it. Tell you what -- I'll buy new ones for you, should it ever become necessary.
And no, let's not ruin a trade opportunity that might open a ... conversation ... in the future with someone we might be able to bring into the fold. She rises from her sorting through the items retrieved from the St. Martius and gives Cole a significant look. Most Talireans of my acquaintance have thought that the Yutak are pagan devil worshippers -- not unlike we are, I suppose -- so there's another thing we might have in common. I suggest you invite them to dinner as well -- we do, after all, have relatively fresh seal meat.
Astute assessments Hel, as you are prone to making. I would rather Yutak goods than my outfit. Or that trident.
The trident... I had not considered it. Now that should fetch a good price! Gadren looks appreciatively at the ivory and goods for sale.
Hel waits a few moments, then looks over at Lutor. I'm not going into your bags for them, and they won't fetch themselves. Besides, you said don't touch your stuff on pain of awful explosions, didn't you?
Looking back at Cole, she adds, Lutor will have his fancy clothes out in a moment, and -- She pauses, then turns back towards the Knot's gear, scowling for a few moments as she searches it with her eyes, then finally spots the long weapon. Digging it out, she eyes it for a moment, then steps forward and sets the magical trident down between the two parties, so that Joseph Calls-Fire-From-Water and White Tusk can both examine it. "This," she says abruptly, glancing sideways at the two Yutak to gauge their reactions.
Certainly. Taking from a mage without their consent is generally regarded as risky at best. Even by Mithrans.,he finishes on a note of humour.
As he goes to retrieve his spare clothing, Lutor throws a glance at the Yutak after Hel reveals the trident, to gauge their reaction.
Selling the trident seems best if we really want that horn. I prefer my rather large swords anyway. Let's hope the trident and the rest are enough.
The Yutak both study the trident as it is brought forward. It is clearly well-crafted, and Joseph-Calls-Fire-From-Water casts a spell as he looks at it.
Detect Magic.
They are excited by the prospect of such a powerful weapon.
The two confer in the Yutak language, then White Tusk steps forward and lays the narwhal horn down with the ivory. Joseph says, "We deem this mighty weapon to be worth the horn of the mighty narwhal, slain by great Chief White Tusk himself. We thank you for your willingness to trade."
The addition of Cole's old chainmail and Lutor's noble garb seem to be enough for you to get the rest of the ivory. Chief White Tusk takes the noble finery and puts it on immediately. It doesn't quite fit right, Chief White Tusk being more muscular and weighing more than Lutor, but at least it isn't as silly as if he'd put on Hel's dress.
Chief White Tusk returns to the umiak as Joseph says, "We thank you for trading fairly with us, and appreciate your decision to approach us without hostility. It is rare that those of the south do not treat us poorly. We shall remember you for your honor and fairness." With that, he goes to return to the umiak.
It takes Lutor a moment, but it is soon obvious to him what Joseph-Calls-Fire-From-Water is doing.
He can see magic auras. I wonder how much more his magical talent extends. They regard the trident as a powerful weapon. I do believe we have made inroads here for possible future interactions. Well done to us.
With the ivory close at hand, Lutor examines it in more detail.
Wesh merely nods at Chief White Tusk's words. The Yutak were little more than pawns to the fighter, but they could still prove useful. To take Talingarde, they would need as many allies as they could find.
Perhaps we should return to trade with the Yutak again before too long. Make sure they remember the faces of those willing to trade with them. They could be useful to us in other matters at some point.
Gallen nods It would help integrate them as vassals in the long term to have extended positive relations... and hopefully they'll prove useful in the short term
Cole nods.
"Give thanks to your chief as well."
Cole then nods to the others for remaining civil.
We have met with enough delays. Let us hope the rest of the trip is smooth.
Hel watches the Yutak converse, then turn over the rest of their goods in trade; as White Tusk puts on the ill-fitting garb, Faila starts to snigger in Hel's ear, but stops when her mistress lifts a hand in warning, ready to smack the villainous little reptile on the snout again. Well, they could have stayed for dinner, she 'says' to the others as she drifts to the side of the boat off which the umiaks rest on the water. As the Yutak depart, she watches them go, her lips pressed into a line. "Would have liked to try to get to know their language a little," she finally says out loud, but then gives a lift of one shoulder and returns to the necessary tasks of the evening.
The next day, the Frosthamar sails north, with Odenkirk occasionally glancing covetously at the ivory and narwhal horn you traded for. The day passes uneventfully, and you again stop for the night. During this time a cold snap arrives. The temperature plummets below freezing, and icy rime begins to form on the ship's rigging. The crew move about, stamping their feet, lighting several torches to provide both light and heat against the chill of the night.
Under his magical disguise, Lutor uses his sleeves of many garments to clad himself in an approximation of cold weather gear. He tolerates Nospca curling into some pouch in this clothing. And he keeps his eyes open.
Wesh kept his eye on Odenkirk as their trip progressed, but otherwise did his best to remain casual about the fact that the group would soon be murdering the captain along with his crew. The fighter also does his best to appear nonchalant about the biting cold. No sense in showing weakness if he can help it.
Gallen was stoic and offering no complain about the cold as they continued their journey north. Even he pulled his cloak a little more around him. His stoney face and piercing gaze washing over the ship, crew and the sea beyond.
[dice=Timeon Perception]1d20-1[/ice]
Unfortunately, Lutor, sleeves of many garments makes your current clothing only look like the other wear, not actually turn into it and give the benefit. :/ So you're as cold as the rest of us. ;)
Hel has no problem at all complaining about the cold -- or rather, complaining, then doing something about it. The heavy winter blanket she brought along with her now serves as an additional cloak, with Faila huddled close in against her, seperated by a thin layer; now and then the two exchange words in ancient Azlanti, words which seem to have some link to the common tongue, but which otherwise march past in stately phrases. From the tone of it, the two are either talking about something obscure ... or else insulting each other (and perhaps the weather) without any real rancor. Every now and then Faila pops her head out from beneath the blanket, just at about the level of Hel's breasts, but the cold is as especially hard for her as it is for Nopsca, and soon enough her head pops back into hiding.
Lutor realises all-too-quickly that these sleeves only give the appearance of clothing.
A piece of wisdom about buying into illusions could be weaved from that., he muses as he grows chillier.
As the chill begins seeping into your bones, Demlin points to the top of the mast and shouts, "Something just landed up there!"
You spy a small, humanoid creature with thin, leathery wings, small horns, and a mischievous smile fly to and land on the top of the mast.
You recognize the creature as an ice mephit.
Cole's surprise round is simply to study the creature.
"Be you friend or foe?" He takes a guarded stance unsure of the creatures intentions.
Cole's surprise round is simply to study the creature. "Be you friend or foe?" He takes a guarded stance unsure of the creatures intentions.
Demlin pulled out her bow and an arrow, but held off on anything else until the creature's hostility could be determined.
An inhuman laugh rings out from the creature on the mast, sending the sailors fleeing belowdecks in fear. "I be the rightful ruler of this area, and you have offended me in my rule. Therefore, you must be punished!" He points at Gallen.
At that moment, 4 humanoid shaped ice creatures climb onto the deck.
You spy a small, humanoid creature with thin, leathery wings, small horns, and a mischievous smile fly to and land on the top of the mast. You recognize the creature as an ice mephit.
Cole takes a moment to study the creature after missing it widely with his spear. He attempts to punch at it with his cestus.
"I can assure you, you are not." Gallen steps turning as he moves beside Lutor drawing his blade into an upward slash against one of the ice creatures.
Timeon holds his ground, draws his scimitar and does his best to hit the intruder.
"Hmm?" Hel looks over at Demlin, then up towards the top of the mast; hearing commotion, Faila pokes her head out as well. "What is that?" the noblewoman asks the reptile, gesturing with her chin up towards the top of the mast.
Faila tilts her head to try to find the creature. "I don't know. I can't really see it. Can you desc--"
Then Cole asks his question, and the creature answers -- and huge ice-things climb up onto the deck. "Oh, crap!!" exclaims the noblewoman, and lurches to the side, scrambling for her bow; between her gown and her shirt comes a distressed squawk as Faila is tumbled and upset. "Ow! Sh!t!!" adds Hel, "stop clawing me!!"
"Let me out!!" comes the muffled sound of the trapped rhamphy.
"Later!! Stay in there, just -- ow!! -- grab the bodice, not my fvcking ribs!!" Hel pushes at her 'passenger', then snatches up her bow and climbs to her feet, using the movement to string the weapon as she rises.
Hel will adjust Faila (swift action), climb to her feet (move, provokes AoO), and pick up and string her bow (move, special). Because of the situation and what I like to perceive as a bit of realism, I am foregoing the attack she might theoretically be allowed to make (+1 BAB can combine 'draw weapon' with another move action) -- because she not only has to acquire her bow, she also has to string it.
Lutor steps back and calls out:
"Ice mephits! Do not bunch together, they can spray you with cold and are immune themselves! Use fire if you have it!"
He suddenly turns his crossbow and fires at the unoccupied mephit.