"I speak the language, as well. I'm sure between the two of us we can get some valuable information."
The group retreat some way from the spider glade before being forced to make camp. A flickering fire soon illuminates the darkness, and hot food, even if it just toasted rations, or a simple dried meat stew, serves to settle the nerves and fill hungry stomaches that haven't eaten since breakfast, long ago at the Bree-Yark Inn.
The kobold is paralyzed from spider poison, and is capable of little more at the moment than rolling its eyes and twitching its foot and the tip of its tail. Perhaps with the passing of a few hours, the poison might wear off slightly.
The webbed bundles are the remains of the spiders' previous meals - some are still wet and squishy, while others are little more than collections of skin and bones wrapped up in spider silk. Cutting them open is a grim task, but with persistance the group can find the following:
Four of the corpses appear to be small humanoids with flattend, oval skulls - almost certainly goblins. Their bones are mixed with a variety of scraps of clothing, small metal trinkets of no value, and a handful of cois (total 7sp). One of them also has a strangely shapped dagger/shortsword, with holes drilled in the blade, and a wickedly sharp edge. Another has a lady's silver handmirror. The silver case is tarnished and worn, bu the glass is intact.
A human corpse, still wearing a rusty chain shirt, with a dagger at his belt. A broken bow and three wet and warped arrows are also present, as well as a backpack containing the slimy remains of some sort of food, a very dirty half bottle of brandy, and a laquered wooden box containing a number of rings.
A deer.
What seems to be a very large black-plumed bird, about the size of a pig.
The corpse of a dwarven woman, wearing no armour or many other identifying marks. A small pouch of green stones is still attached to her belt.
"Hmmm...there doesn't appear to be much here, does there? Still, there may perhaps be something of value amongst this mess."
Margût slumps down on a tree stump, setting down his pack and the prisoner. He sharpens his sword and pointedly glares at the paralysed kobold as he waits for the poison to wear off.
The hobgoblin hisses softly as he works on his blade, seemingly telling the kobold something in its own language. "એક અવાજ કરી અને હું તમારી જીભ બહાર કાઢે છે પડશે."
Minah will take the remains and begin burying them away from the camp. She will attempt to recruit Houk and Blaughter to assist her.
"The kobold should recover in a few hours, or perhaps overnight. He - or she or it - will be numb and clumsy for quite a while as the poison slowly works its way out of the body," says Orono.
"I wonder if any of these people were known to folks at the Keep? I mean, almost certainly they were, it's the only bastion of human civilization in the area, but were they local laborers, or more adventurers like ourselves who were less fortunate?"
The rings are cheap costume jewellry, maybe worth 1gp together. The box is probably worth twice that.
The green rocks may well be uncut gemstones, probably peridot.
What is it you want to know? What you'd pay for them in the city; what you could sell them for in the city, or what the pawnbroker at the keep might give you for them?
Blaughter eyes Margut and the kobold frowning. He seems to think for a moment before answering Minah's request. "Aye lass, I'll lend a hand though I'd like us to be quick about it."
"Cut this down, dig this hole.. sheesh, I should call myself a menialist."
For his griping he still puts in a good effort to dig and refill the graves.
After the bodies are buried, Minah will head back to the camp and make preparations to set up a watch order for the night. "Sasha and I can take first watch, if you like. With beasts, goblins and kobolds about, it's always prudent to keep an eye out."
Minah then takes a seat by the fire, hoping for good conversation. "Well, it was an interesting day at least. More exploring tomorrow?"
Roscoe looks about and helps set camp and do a little cooking to help the rations. "Did we actually save owl bear meat I can roast some."
"Yes... I guess we'll find out if they really do taste like chicken."
After eating whatever they managed to cobble together for dinner
"That was a fine meal, thankyou, so lets get the watches set and off to sleep.." He throws himself into his bedding and seems to be going to sleep..
"Wake me for middle watch" comes from within his blankets
The night cannot be said to be either peaceful or comfortable, but it passes without major incident. Miraculously, the rain holds off, but even with the campfire the air is chill and damp. The trees creak, owls hoot and holler at each other, and there is the sound of the river rushing over stones nearby.
As the moon climbs into the sky, those on watch catch very faint fragments of what sounds like chanting or singing far off to the south. It is far to indistinct to make out, but it sounds cruel and harsh, and sends a shiver up the spine.
As the night goes on the singing ceases, and the myriad stars whirl overhead, glimpsed through the gaps in the trees. The odd rat, probably too small to interest a spider but drawn to the remains of their meals, darts about in the dancing shadows of the campfire. Orono's spider squirms hungrily against her as it senses the rats.
Dawn finally comes chill and grey, with the threat of more rain during the day.
Margût begins the day by mixing some more of his foul-smelling concoctions, likely after being driven to the edge of the camp by those attempting to eat their breakfast. After this odoriferous morning ritual, he goes to poke at the kobold prisoner, seeing if it has regained any of its mobility—or at least its faculty of speech—after a night of rest.
Roscoe gathers his things munches some rations and gets ready to depart.
"Well are we pressing on one way or another."
Henris awakens and begins his morning exercise routine. Once completed, he begins studying his spells over breakfast.
Houk only stops snoring after being given a nudge by someone who eventually got sick of his snoring
"Wha.. ! Oh hi all, get up time.. mmm. okay"
Houk gets up and immediately goes sniffing in his pack for some rations after spying Roscoe munching away.
"Hrrmmmhhh..." Blaughter mutters thoughtfully, "Looks like it'll be 'nother soggy day. Maybe do a bit more scoutin' around and head back, rather than spend another night out 'ere?
The kobold has obviously recovered sufficiently to spit and growl at any questioning.
"તમારા ગર્દભ, મુલાયમ ત્વચા તમારા માથા વળગી."
"Do let him know that spider-food is still a possible fate for him," says Orono, stroking her spider pet creepily.
Margût snarls at the kobold, kicking it on the side to quiet its whimpering.
"Want to try talking to it?" he asks Henris.
Henris squats down before the Kobold, looking it in the eyes before saying, in Draconic.
"You know, little dragon kin, you do have a chance of surviving this. Talk to us, and we will let you go. What do you say?"
"So at least one kobold. Perhaps they have a lair too. More than just goblins."
"I got nothing, maybe just offer to let it go for anything it wants to tell us.. no point annoying it if we don't have to."
"The kobolds are cowards. The little crap knows where every danger is . . . other than the spiders I guess. But they know too avoid trouble. If he knows to avoid trouble then we can get an idea of where the dangers or opportunities are."
"Mmm. I like opportunities."
The Draconic that Henris learned as the High Language of magic bears little resemblance t the debased, sibilant dialect that the kobold speaks, and he struggles to adapt his ear to the heavy accent.
After cursing Henris's "eggmother" and making several suggestions that, even in his limited experience, Henris knows to be anatomically impossible, the kobold fixes him with a cunning eye.
"Kokoris live another day, yes. Spiders no eat. Smoothskins let Kokoris go, yes? Kokoris tell tribe to leave smoothskins alone - not hunt, not eat. Leave alone, one and another. Is treaty, yes?"
Orono asks Henris, "What is it saying?"
"His name is Kokoris. He's asking us to let him go, and saying he'll tell his tribe to leave "smooth skins" - non-kobolds - alone. That we leave each other alone. He seems to understand the concept of a treaty, as well. He also included several insults that aren't worth repeating."
Henris can't read the kobold.
"We have no reason to trust it, so... flip a copper?"
Houk steps a little forward and talks as if making a grand speech
"Let it go, we may get a treaty out of it's tribe will be beneficial or we let one kobold go, the cost to us is little and may be useful in the future."
He steps back to his original position
Orono regards Houk oddly for a moment, then shrugs. "Very well, heads it is."
Roscoe laughs uproariously "Kobold treaty. . .that's rich." He looks at the others, "Heads or tails this one is useless. Unless we can get info on places we want to find or avoid. If it will show us where his tribe lives . . . that could be helpful."
Margût watches in disgust as the kobold grovels for its life. "We should kill it. Even if it speaks the truth, its tribemates won't listen. It is weak."
"If it is telling the truth, we're proper bastards if we kill'it...if it's lying, we fight 'ne more kobold."
"હા! તમે કોઈ ત્વચા પરિવારનો વડો છે! તમારા આદિજાતિ તમે પાળે નથી."
"Given that the majority are arguing in favor of killing you, I don't think now is the time for you to be commenting, hmm? Besides, you are no Kobold chieftain, else you wouldn' have gotten caught by the spiders. If you were chieftain, they no doubt assume you dead and have replaced you. You cannot deliver on what you've offered for your freedom. So, given that your survival likely rests in my hands, what can you actually give me to buy your freedom?"
To make Henris' point clear, Margût steps forward and puts his sword under the kobold's chin. "જવાબ આપો, અથવા હું એક પછી એક બંધ તમારા ભીંગડા છાલ પડશે."
Roscoe watches not fully understanding but when Margut's sword us brought to the creature's chin he moves where the kobold can see and runs his thumb along his chin in the universal throat cutting gesture. "Hoahhh" He sticks his tongue out and drops his head to the side feigning death.
The kobold regards the various antics of the group with its inscrutable reptilian eyes.
Looking at Margut, it hisses "આ સરળ સ્કિન્સ ખોટે રસ્તે દોરવું અને હું કમાન્ડર માટે તમારી તરફેણમાં વાત કરશે. તે હંમેશા સારા સૈનિકો માટે જગ્યા છે. અન્યથા આ મનુષ્યો અને એક ડિપિંગ વામન આ ફૂલ વિનાશ તરફ દોરી જશે. તેઓ મીઠું તમે રોલિંગ પહેલાં તમારા શરીર માંથી ત્વચા ગૂમડું કરશે."