"We could probably do so, although we probably shouldn't treat this as a walk in the park. Unless anyone wishes to return to the keep?"
"Aye, I think we should push on a little further. Maybe we'll have better luck with'a goblins?"
"Ok lets keep going then." Agrees Houk
Returning to the Old Dwarven Road, the group continues to the east. After about a mile, although the forest to the north is as thick as ever, the ground to the south begins to fall away, the trees thinning out until they fade entirely, leaving only soft, swampy ground covered in tall reeds, rushes and small scrubby bushes that grow wherever they can find a drier patch of soil. The marsh appears to be roughly circular, and several miles across, with numerous small hillocks covered in scrub and dense thorn bushes.
At the centre of the marsh a small hill rises. Densely packed fir trees cram onto the hill like passengers on the deck of a sinking ship. A huge flock of large black birds - crows, rooks or ravens, it is difficult to tell from this distance, appears to nest there, and can be seen circling the hill occasionally.
While the group is looking at this, Henris almost trips across something lying in the mud. It is a old signpost, uprooted and without any indication of which way it was originally pointing. The wood is part rotted and split with age, but the arrow part of the sign can just about be read - 'Quasqueton'.
'Quasqueton'? Most interesting. A former town, perhaps?
Henris stands there, staring at the ground as he racks his brain trying to think if he has ever heard of Quasqueton.
Roscoe scratches his chin. "A couple of the towns folk mentioned Quasqueton. Said everyone is out here looking for it."
"Well I guess that is the question we should ask."
Orono shrugs noncommittally. "These old ruins are always the destination for treasure-hunters. Could be worth our time, if we can find it. But best to stay focused for now on getting to know our immediate surroundings."
"Any idea where the sign sat might be able to follow it. The sign might be worth money. The whole keep is set up for adventure tourists, the sign fits that."
Houk stands near the sign and does a 360 trying to see if there is a path through the trees or a likely location that it was pointing towards a path even?
"Don't know, Roscoe. If you have expertise in how signs fall or get knocked over, maybe you could figure it out."
Henris has come across a mention of Quasqueton in his readings. The legendery lost home of a wizard and a warrior, old adventuring friends and lovers. They built their home together and filled it with wonders, but one day the wizard left to explore other realities, and never returned. The warrior waited the rest of his life for his partner to return, and supposedly waits still, his powerful magic sword still drawn across his skeletal knees as he sits on his throne.
The legends can't seem to agree exactly whether the men were Azlanti, Thassilonian, much more recent Taldan explorers, travellers from ancient Osirion, or something else entirely.
In an unconsciously professorial tone, Henris tells of what he has read of Quasqueton. "If the tale is even half-true, such a sword would be highly valuable, and possibly a great and powerful weapon. If it is a relic of Ancient Azlanti, so much the better. Perhaps we should look for any ruins or somesuch?"
"Don't know, Roscoe. If you have expertise in how signs fall or get knocked over, maybe you could figure it out."
Roscoe looks up, "Just asking. Together we have more eyes. May be a post or nail holes in a tree."
There is no evidence of where or how the sign originally stood.
Margût's pointed ears perk up at the mention of an enchanted weapon. He starts scouting along the edge of the swamp, trying to see what would be the safest way to get across the marshy terrain.
Seeing the hobgoblin scouting, Minah takes a look at the swamp as well, seeing if it's worth the party's time.
The island in the swamp is about a mile away, over heavy, waterlogged ground. It looks like it would be slow and treacherous going - having to pick your way through the bog, finding a relatively dry route.
"Hmm...I would suggest we mark this spot on our map, and come back with some supplies that might make crossing the swamp easier, should Quasqueton lie in that direction. If we wish to see if it lies to the north of the road, that might be the more effective option, currently. We should also maybe not mention that we found this in the Keep - in case someone decides they want to grab it instead of us."
"Good idea, Henris. Let's continue on the road then?" she says as she looks to the others.
Orono nods without comment.
As the valley bottoms out, the river reappears, flowing alongside the road as it meanders across the valley floor. The marshy ground disappears, and the forest re-establishes itself. The character of the southern forest is slightly different - more open and gentle, less tangled - reflecting that of the river, which is much smoother and slower flowing than in the western part of the Valley.
As the eastern mountains loom up, the valley widens, turning both north and south. To the north the ground slopes gently down, leading into the thick northern woods, while to the south the woods thin out as the ground rises slowly, leading up to a visible pass between the mountains.
The Old Dwarven Road finally crosses the river as it swings north. A low, wide, humpback bridge spans the waters. The moss-covered stones show the same workmanship as the road, but also the same poor state of repair - several flags are missing, and there is much debris piled up against the bridge's sides from the recent floods, causing the river to pool slightly as it flows underneath. The road continues after the bridge, swinging south towards the pass. There is the faintest of paths - a mere trail - beside the river as it flows north.
Someone has set a freshly slain deer head on a pole beside the trail as it leaves the road. A crown of woven twigs and feathers has been placed on its head.
Houk looks around as they walk along taking in all the interesting scenery
"A bit grim isn't it, does anyone know if it's a commonly used warning?"
Orono shakes her head. "Maybe an offering? Or a lure?"
Margût squints at the grotesque effigy, using a hand to shade his eyes from the non-existent glare—or at least, for a human, there was little light in the thinning forest. After a moment of silent deliberation, he points his sword at Roscoe.
"You," he snarls. "Go take a look. Sneaky-like."
Henris studies the effigy, trying to determine if he knows anything about such things.
"I ain't one for knowing much about this sort o' thing, but I can tell if it's been magiced."
Roscoe rankles at the order but softens when he notes that he is probably likely to be safe sneaking.
Houk looks around and then at Roscoe and Margut...
To Margut Houk says
"Shouldn't you be sneaking with him, standard tactics would demand that a member of the group is never left alone and thus you who looks like he could move quite stealthily should accompany Roscoe."
Orono rolls her eyes, crouches down, and sneaks along with Roscoe.
Margût snorts at Houk, twisting his already fearsome visage into a sneer. "Bah! Human tactics, maybe."
Roscoe looks impressed by Orono's stealth.
Roscoe touches Orono on the arm and points at the underside of the bridge as the first place to check.
Houk gives a big smile at Marguts retort he moves closer and says in a soft voice
"For one of your race i'd think that you'd not want your races tactics to be seen as cowardly rather than looking out for a companion.. luckily for you Orono has the stones to go."
Margût wipes a smudge of dried blood off his blade, continuing to grimace at Houk.
"Think you can goad me?" he snarls. "Think again. Ask the priest, if you think me a coward..."
Moving between Houk and Margut, Henris says, "Enough. Houk, accusations of cowardice towards anyone are both needless and incorrect. Margut handled himself admirably in the fight with the Owlbears, particularly when he risked injury to get Blaughter back on his feet. And Margut," he says, turning to the hobgoblin, "in a group as small as we are, we cannot treat any individual's life as expendable. That may not be the case in your culture, which is perfectly fine, but I do ask you to understand that our ways are different. Houk asked only out of concern for Roscoe's safety. Insults are unnecessary from either of you."
Minah smirks at the banter that is going back and forth as she watches Orono and Roscoe sneak off.
Margût's eyes flash with indignation at Henris' interruption, but something in the wizard's rebuke seems to catch his attention. The hobgoblin listens to Henris' words with some interest, mentally assessing what he perceives as the wizard's attempt at asserting his own authority. He nods approvingly, adopting a more military mien and straightening his normally stooped posture to stand at attention.
"Understood," he grumbles through gritted teeth, leering at Houk expectantly.
Orono nods at Roscoe's touch and gestures in the direction that she plans to go, then heads closer to the waterline to see if there's anything of interest - like tracks - left in the mud by the side of the water. All the while she tries to keep an eye out for Roscoe in case he indicates that they should go in a different direction.
Houk listens to Margut with a sigh and then when Henris steps in
"I did not accuse, I said if he did not want his races tactics to appear cowardly. I would have gone myself but I have no woodscraft, I'd be a liability. But I will not pursue further provocations."
"Then perhaps we should wait quietly to hear the results of Roscoe and Orono's scouting."
The raised ground by the bridge is well-drained and firm, and whatever tracks may have been left there have been wiped by the recent rain. However, under the bridge the scouts find multiple small humanoid footprints, much pictographic graffiti showing small humanoids with oval heads and pointy teeth torturing and killing various animals, and a crude broken pot that smells heavily of vinegar and rotting vegetables.
Roscoe looks about pleased to see his instincts rewarded even if its rotten food. Man I hope these aren't troll markings.
Far too small to be troll - most likely the creatures that made these tracks and marking were halfling-sized.
Too small for trolls but no idea.
Roscoe emerges from under the bridge and waves Orono back up with him. I think that's where she is or was when I went under the bridge.
Roscoe returns to the others. "Rotten food and pictures if big oval headed creatures with pointy teeth. Too small for trolls, you know under bridges. There are reports of goblins but I can't say for sure." He pauses, "do we think our owlbear pelts are worth returning for? We have two leads something is around making drawings and leaving deer heads. Also we can poke around the swamp. If we head up the trail to the caves the pelts won't keep. Is that a big enough score?"
Orono seems to materialize out from the shadows under the bridge, waves to Roscoe, and jogs back up to the group.
"Pickles," she says with a shrug. "They live around here. No tracks though."
"I'm not sure of the price on owlbear pelts right now. I feel a bit like it might be good for us to get one night out here, just to live out in the land a bit, get a feel for it."
Blaughter finishes digging around in his ear with one calloused and hairy knuckled pinky..."Eh? Someone say m'name?" He asks, having missed the exchange over bravery, halfling lives, and scouting.
Seeing the scouts return he shrugs, guessing it had just been a figment of his imagination.
"I agree with the lass," He says after Orono speaks...though he's careful not to make eye contact with the woman, and makes a few nervous glances toward her pack (assuming that's where the spider is currently). "If'n we're goin' to be out here we might as well get accustom to the land. Plus, if Minah can scrounge us up some squirrels, an' maybe some mushrooms 'an the like, I can make a pot o' squirrel nut stew for us t'night."
"I'd be glad to see what I can find, Blaughter. The stew sounds wonderful. I certainly wouldn't mind a night out under the stars."
She reaches down and scratches Sasha behind her ears as she waits for the others replies.
Houk has a look of resignation on his face
"Ugh, I suppose we could stay out here a night... squirrels and nuts stew?"
"Didn't we get owl bear stakes."
Roscoe looks up, "More scouting I guess."
"We do have owlbear, but if it's anything like bear it will be pretty gamey. I have some food supplies as well," says Orono.