Rayne walks up to the bleeding centaur, looming over him as she catches her breath. "So did this work out the way you thought it would, Yorc?" Kneeling next to him, she reaches into her kit and pulls out a length of rope, roughly tying his four legs together. "Does anyone have more rope? I need it for his hands." Waiting, she sits next to him. "You're lucky I don't kill you right now," she mutters, glaring at his unconscious form. She turns towards the others. "Should we leave him, or wake him up for some... questioning?" She grins as she twirls a knife in her fingers.
Skalla removes a coil of rope from her backpack and hands it to Rayne.
"No time to wait. Wake him up and question him, I say. We need to know if he is working with the h... with the Ironfang."
Dalvin nods in agreement. "We need to be quick." He calls Drako to his side as he hurries to join Skalla and Rayne. "Nisa, are you able to wake him up?"
Rayne ties Yorc up the rest of the way, retrieves her dagger, then returns to poke him roughly with her foot. "Wake up, you bastard."
Nisa approaches the centaurs body, and rolls back her sleeve and reachs out with one hand, as it begins to softly glow with green light. She takes a deep breath as vines of light creep across her fingers. She presses her hand to the centaur, and the vines creep across his wounds.
Yorc's eyes flicker open. When he sees the party looming over him, he struggles against the ropes with little success. He tries an apologetic smile.
"I don't suppose we could let what just happened go, could we?" he asks.
Rayne sits cross-legged next to their prisoner, resting her elbows on her knees. She laces her fingers together and props her chin up on top of them, and looks down at him with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I think you know the answer to that, Yorc. How about you just start from the beginning, eh?"
Skalla stands behind Rayne, glowering at the centaur and running a thumb across the edge of her axe.
The centaur swallows, keeping his eye on Skalla's axe. "I'm a messenger," he explains. "For the Ironfang. I run missives between camps and potential allies. I can go where hobgoblins can't."
"I was sent to deliver a message to troglodytes living to the north and west. When I came across you, I thought I might try my hand at the bounty. No offense, but a fella's got to eat, right?"
Dalvin's eyes widen at the mention of the Ironfang.
"We can't let him go," he says almost reflexively, his attention quickly darting back towards the trees. "He'll just go straight back to the Ironfang."
Skalla agrees with Dalvin, but there is perhaps more information to be gained from this centaur. She makes a shushing motion to the gnome.
"Is that a written message, or spoken? What was the message? Did you reach these troglodytes already, or were you on your way there?"
"No way," Yorc assures Dalvin. "If I go back, they'll assume I've told you their plans. I'd be dead for sure. Let me go and I'll go south, back home."
The centaur nods towards the satchel hanging from his prone form. "I don't know what it is. I was only given a package and a map to their cavern. It's still in my bag."
Nisa steps back and looks Yorc up and down, drawing in what he says and sizing him up. "You've lied to us once already, why should we believe you now?"
The centaur stares at Nisa, at her scarred face and hands. "Where did you get those scars? The Ironfang? If so, you know their discipline. If I go back, I'll be killed. There's no reason to lie."
Closer inspection of the map reveals a more or less accurate rendition of the southern Fangwood forest. A cave is circled on the northern border with the words "Children of Stone" scrawled in Common.
"Perhaps you have now learned the folly of working for the Ironfang. Their dominion over this area is only temporary." Skalla nods to the others, to show that she thinks they should release Yorc. She doesn't have the heart to slaughter a prisoner.
Rayne looks over the map. "Children of Stone," she mumbles to herself. "Do any of you know what this is?" She hands the map over to Dalvin, before turning back to Yorc.
"Looks like this is your lucky day, Yorc, because I'd've just killed you." Sliding the dagger from her boot, she quickly cuts through his ropes. "There. Be free. Make better decisions, because if not..." She twirls the knife deftly in her fingers and gives him a smile.
The centaur slowly rises, rubbing his wrists. "The Children of the Stone are what the troglodytes call themselves. Their tribal name." He nods to Skalla. "And I wouldn't drink that, if I were you. It's oil of taggit. Should be half a dozen doses left."
Yorc takes a step back. "Now, if you'll be needing nothing else from me, I think I should make myself scarce."
Dalvin accepts the map from Rayne, keeping his eyes on Yorc for the moment, examining it before Yorc answers the question. He looks at the contents of he satchel, noticing the sealed parchment.
"Is this the message you were carrying for the Ironfang?" he asks before the centaur takes off again.
"It is," Yorc confirms. The centaur twists to pat his rear end clean of dust and leaves. "Still sealed for delivery on threat of death, although I doubt you lot have any such concerns."
Dalvin nods and takes the parcel in his hands, looking it over. "You're right," he says, closely examining the sealed package for any signs of a trap should it not be opened in a very specific way.
Assuming the gnome sees nothing out of the ordinary and no one tries to stop him, Dalvin opens the package.
The package contains an amulet and a folded message.
My emissary approaches you as a sign of respect, but by now you have seen my soldiers move unchecked across this green and fertile land. The Ironfang Legion means to make all of Nirmathas a home to those the humans would hunt, and turn those same humans into our servants and prey. You would be wise to join our alliance. There is no room for neutral parties when war is all around you, and only one side in this conflict will offer you strength and shelter.
As a sign of the protection the Legion offers, kindly accept this token of my generosity. Take your time in making your decision, but I trust you will come to the conclusion that provides your small and vulnerable tribe a future.
Kindest regards,
General Azaersi
Rayne reads the note over Dalvin's shoulder, nodding as she does so. "Well, at least we definitely know where we're heading now," she says brightly, referring to the map. "Shall we move on? I'm suddenly itching to stab something, and that cavern seems like the place to do it."
Dalvin nods, pocketing the amulet. "Maybe we'll be able to trade this with someone. If we ever run into a friendlier face," he adds, watching Yorc in the distance.
"Let's keep going."
"Or perhaps it has powers. Let me look at it." Skalla holds out her hand.
Yorc offers a final, sheepish grin before backing off into the woods and trotting away. "I hope we don't meet again," he calls back.
Returning to the camp, the sky darkens prematurely, blanketed with dark clouds flickering with lightning. The wind picks up quickly, strengthening to a gale that bends the trees of the forest, rustling leaves and knocking down branches.
Cold rain begins to fall gently as the party reaches the camp. The Phaendaran refugees scurry about the camp stowing possessions and wrangling animals. Aubrin limps forward, pausing to allow a group of frightened goats to be herded past. "This storm will be bad," she shouts over the wind. "We need to find some shelter."
Rayne nods in agreement with Aubrin, flinching as a branch falls loudly to the ground from a tree nearby. "And fast."
She walks away from the camp, ignoring the rain as she gets her bearings. She looks around in an attempt to notice, or remember, any structures, natural or man-made, that they could use as shelter from the swiftly oncoming storm.
"The only shelter nearby that I know of is an animal den," Rayne reports to the others. "'Bout a mile or so away. We steered clear of it before because we didn't know what might be inside, but..." She trails off with a shrug. "If this storm is as bad as it looks, we might not have much of a choice."
Following Rayne's hunch, the party backtracks in the face of the oncoming storm, the refugees following closely.
Thankfully closer than the rogue remembers, the den is set between the roots of a massive oak, its dark entrance promising safety from the wrath of Gozreh. Bones lie scattered about nearby, and as the party approaches, a snuffling rumble rolls out from the cave towards them, not unlike the thunder above.
A bear-sized creature lopes out of the den, its brown and gold fur bristling with challenge. A set of bony spines run down its back and it growls a threat between clenched jaws towards the party.
Nisa draws back her hood as she gazes at the large creature, before nervously glancing back at the storm.
Nisa turns her attention back to the creature before quietly saying, "It is a Dire Wolverine and it will fight us to the death if we come any closer."
Rayne's hands hover over two of her daggers, her eyes never leaving the wolverine. "I'm sure we could take it on," she says. "But if anyone has a better idea that would make this go faster, it would be helpful."
Dalvin gestures for Drako to stay back, and slowly joins Rayne and Nisa's side.
"Hey, there." Dalvin smiles weakly at the dire wolverine and tries to speak in soothing tones. "It's alright. We're not here to hurt you. We don't want to fight." Dalvin holds up his hands in a non-threatening gesture.
To use wild empathy, the hunter and the animal must be within 30 feet of one another under normal conditions. Generally, influencing an animal in this way takes 1 minute but, as with influencing people, it might take more or less time.
The hunter can also use this ability to influence a magical beast with an Intelligence score of 1 or 2, but she takes a –4 penalty on the check.