"Nogrogomed is badly hurt Opalia. Can you do something to help him?"
Dai smiles a little shyly at the praise he received from the others.
"We all did well, I think. We seem to work as a team.."
Finnick looks at Mr Scruffles and then nods towards the shaken Opalia. Mr Scruffles picks up on the movement and walked over to Opalia and at first nudges her hand by her side before giving it a bit more of a nuzzle, trying to get her attention and take her thoughts from the recent battle and calm her nerves.
Finn downs his one last remaining Healing potion.
"Much obliged Sir dwarf, every little bit helps"
Cleaning his blades on the coats of the fallen owlbear, Lucian comments, "Have a couple of healing potions that I may be willing to part with should it be necessary."
Seeing the wounds slowly knitting over the clawed rents across Nogrogomed, something changes in the maiden and she moves forwards with Finnick to help.
She calls on her magical power to infuse the halforc and the tingling continues in his body.
"If the pair have a nest nearby then we may find whatever within from their previous kills, especially if they have raised young. Some predators like to wound prey so that the younger can practise their hunting. There are not likely to be many other large hunters in this vicinity, well not until they discover the bears are dead."
She watches the halforc and shakes her head. "You're still hurt. Maybe I could use some of my more powerful healing ability but it is better for when many people are hurt than just one. I don't know."
She looks round at the others for advice.
She also heals the donkey's torn flank.
"I am happy to continue as I am. We can worry over the balance later, if need be. I agree, we should see if we can locate a lair."
Attempting to track the owlbears:
The trees are still budding, and not in full foliage, which makes it much easier to find the way in the forest. When the leaves are fully grown, it is likely they will create a grey/green twilight world in which those without a good sense of direction will easily get lost.
After about half an hour of tramping through the woods, avoiding fallen trees and getting whipped by springy branches, Nogrogomed is able to follow the heavy tracks that the owlbears left in the damp forest floor back to their lair. A small rock outcropping has hollow at its base, and it looks as though the two owlbears hibernated there. The hollow is permeated with a strong scent of the owlbears, and there are a number of curious, melon-sized and shaped lumps of what looks like earth mixed with bone scattered around.
Garrun looks at the small trickle of blood still leaking from the worst of the liberally scarred half-orc's wounds, "That won't do. Another of those beasts tears into you, you might end up with more than a scar. Hold Still..."
-----------------------------------
At the hollow, Garrun scans the nearby trees, "Fine tracking Nogrogomed. Sharpest eyes should take a look at those piles, rest of us keep watch. No way to be sure it was just the pair of them. Call out if you spot anything."
Adjusting his grip on his sword, the warpriest moves to put himself between the hollow and what he deems a likely avenue of attack.
"they could be cough pellets? Like some birds, the hardest parts are regurgitated and left. Maybe we should break them open too?"
Opalia ties off the donkey and then starts the laborious process of searching through the nest and pellets humming quietly to herself. She exclaims a couple of times at the strange shaped bones and others animal parts she finds.
Finnick hops upon Mr Scruffles' back and winces as his wounds haven't completely healed but he smiles at the pain. It reminds him of the powerful charge him and his partner did together to help bring down the Owlbear.
He says to Mr Scruffles "hey buddy. How many of these Owlbears were there? Can you give us a count?"
"Now hold on a second, before ya start digging into stuff".
Ichabod casts "Detect Magic", and uses his ability to "Scent" precious metals on each pellet first.
Nogrogomed begins searching, once Ichabod has finished sniffling around.
+10 to find hidden objects (inc. secret doors and traps)
Dai stays on watch with his bow ready to make sure nothing come upon them as the group is investigating the weird "pellets".
Most of the pellets contain nothing more than fur and bone, but one soon has Ichabod's nose tingling. Breaking it apart reveals the remnants of some humanoid creature, including scraps of leather an clothing. Mixed in with the bones are a number of gold and silver coins, and what appears to be a short gold chain loop - perhaps a bracelet or a necklace. None of it is magical however.
"I wonder if anyone in town will recognize the jewelry. In any case, shall we continue exploring?"
"Might be worthwhile to show someone, but then again we aren't the only folks that have come up here to poke around either. Could just be some random poor bastard that didn't fair as well against the owlbears as we did." Lucian says, shrugging his shoulders.
"Anyway, Nogrogomed has the right of it. We should move on."
Garrun frowns, "If we do find someone with a claim to it, could prove costly on our end. Remember, thirty percent of those coins belongs to the Castellan. Depending on it's worth, might be worth that freesword's charter if we plan on making these constitutionals a regular event?"
"I agree, lets keep moving. Where to?"
Opalia finishes wiping her hands of giant pellets, as they discuss the next moves.
"The captain's map shows woods to the north and south then caves to the north and swamp to the south of the road. I would like to look around the northern side towards the caves."
No other predators mean some good places for herbs and the like. Should be a useful area this.
Idly adjust the straps on one of his bracers, Garrun nods in agreement, "I'd be interested as well. Goblin territory according to the Captain. Would be good to scout out the area near the caves, maybe take measure of the threat posed by the gobs. We'll want to re-provision before setting foot in the caves though."
"Where ever. All the woods are dangerous. I'd like to find a nice predictable cave to explore".
"It seems we are agreed. On we go then. Let's keep an eye out for more critters, those last ones weren't very nice."
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, Lucian 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'.
Finnick dismounts and looks around before waking over to the rest of the group. "So what's the plan? Press onwards for a spell longer and see what we find? The day is a warring and waits for no man, dwarf, elf or Orc." he says with a wink.
"May as well keep going."
"Perhaps we should take a quick look at that hillock with all the trees? Might be something there?" the young man asks tentatively.
The young Gorumite spits into a nearby pool of stagnant water, "Be damn slow going in that mud. Still, I admit I've curiosity enough about that hill to make the trudge if we want, but that means goblin territory waits for another day. Had boot rot once...never again. We get back out of that mire, I'm heading right back to the keep where a roaring fire can dry me out."
He looks around for opinions before gazing back out over the swamp, "Quasqueton. That's the lost city the Captain mentioned, yeah? Crows are more than likely crowded around the last group of fools out treasure hunting...still, if our luck holds stronger than theirs, probably find some decent salvage if nothing else."
"I could wait here if you want to take a walk through the swamp to that hill?" Opalia tentatively looks at the spongy reeds, thick cloying mud and turns back to see the northern woods. She doesn't look happy at the prospect of travelling with the rest.
Slowly she shrugs and shakes her head, tying off the robe around her legs.
Opalia murmurs, "my donkey might need help in the mud and water."
Perhaps we should have left the donkey at the keep
Garrun rolls his eyes, it seemed some of his new companions might be a little...delicate for their chosen life. Still, they'd likely harden up, most did.
"A lesson learned for another day I wager. Might be best to either tether the beast here for the time being or perhaps we leave the mud for another day and follow the road down towards the caves for today?"
"Not to worry, I'm sure your donkey will be fine. Mr Scruffles and I are adept at herding animals, even the stubborn ones. Here Opalia, let us help.'
As they travel along, Finnick chats to Opalia about what kind of various plats might be used for but now and then Finn and Mr Scruffles break away and nudge her donkey away from pools of mud and water. Usually Mr Scruffles gives tje donkey a bit of a warning bark to usher him out of the way and to go around.
"Agreed. It might be better off to head down the road for now."
Nonplussed by the natural ability of Finn to corral the donkey, Opalia is just happy to stay out of the mud this time.
"I shall procure suitable travelling clothes for next time. And boots. Maybe the donkey should stay back at the inn but I shall need to find a home for my alchemy and healing equipment. It is perhaps too heavy to lug around." She nods at Nogrogomed accepting his advice.
Now that the route is moving away from the swamp and back along the road, Opalia wipes her bowstring clean and selects three arrows for the next corner of her quiver. Each one has the white feathered fletching of a dove or possibly swan.
"I'm sorry for not doing this before. But i didn't expect to fight owlbears today," she jokes almost to herself.
Dai shrugs as the party decides against the hummock and continues along the road. He also has his bow out and ready...keeping a sharp eye on the woods around them.
Nogrogomed, with his falchion out and resting on his shoulder, continues down the road just behind Lucian.
"And who knows what we might fight next?! Exciting times and you're doing just fine Opalia. What do you think Garrun? She handled herself very well I think. By the way, those arrows are lovely and look greatly crafted. Are they special?." Fin says walking beside Mr Scruffles so as not to tire out the dog by carrying him unnecessarily.
Dai peers over the halfling's head to take a look at the arrows as well. He smiles and nods as their sheer beauty and craftsmanship is clearly evident.
"Those are very fine arrows Miss Ceylinian. May I ask who the craftsman is?", the boy asks shyly.
"My brother left them .... to me. I think he made them. But now, well, now he is gone. Shot by goblins." She says with a small voice. She cannot take her mind off the thoughts and gently fingers the feathers behind her neck.
"And who knows what we might fight next?! Exciting times and you're doing just fine Opalia. What do you think Garrun? She handled herself very well I think. By the way, those arrows are lovely and look greatly crafted. Are they special?." Fin says walking beside Mr Scruffles so as not to tire out the dog by carrying him unnecessarily.
Garrun considers his response for a moment before replying, "Kept her nerve throughout. That's the difficult part. The rest is just experience and a healthy dose of paranoia...", the young man smiles, mostly to himself, "At least that's what I've been told by the experienced and paranoid."
He leaves a respectful moment for Opalia to dwell on her brother's memory before speaking, "That settles out mission then. I will help you purge the goblin tribes here so no more brothers or sisters might be lost to them..."
Goblin Territory
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.
"Well that's not very subtle."
Nogrogomed hefts his falchion and headds towards the trail warily.
"Not subtle, true...not really sure what that's supposed to mean either." Lucian says, readying his blades and continuing along.
"Could be a tribe marking it's territory?" the boy asks while looking over the bridge at the piled-up debris.
"We should maybe do something about this as well...if the bridge is damaged wont it stop the caravan's from coming to the keep? Should tell them the road needs repair as well. Perhaps if the route to the keep is better maintained then more merchants might come there to trade?"
Being the longest speech the young man has made to the group, he shyly awaits their responses.
"Aye, the bridge could use some work, but if the keep wants it done they can sure as Pharasma pay us for it, given the taxes they charge.
I've known a few goblins, even learned their tongue, but I'm puzzled why they would bother to mount the head at all and not just eat it. Or pickle it. Those buggers will pickle anything. Makes me wonder if these are odd goblins, or something else entirely."
"I would guess it is something else. Like you said, gobos would more than likely eat the dear and maybe mount the skull if anything, based on what I've seen in the past." Lucian agrees.
"Hobgoblins maybe?" he asks, taking a wild guess.
The warpriest snorts, "Have you really looked at the keep? With no crown to keep it supplied, I'd wager the taxes are the only think keeping it from becoming an empty ruin. Why do you think they still have goblins and bandits on their doorstep? If there were enough successful freeswords to bring in much real profit, you'd have to think the region would be a lot more under control, no? Now we manage to relieve some pressure, maybe the Castellan can be talked into looking at fixing bridges and roads. First things first though, yeah?"
"That totem, looks religious maybe? Could be some Shaman has gained influence among the tribes. I don't know much of goblin gods, but most forces bend when the Lord in Iron pushes. I imagine these will be much the same."
Finn walks up to the pole and with a disgusted look says "Regardless of whatever or whoever May have done it, it's disgusting and inappropriate. We should take it down." Finnick lifts his arms for a moment before halting and with a slight blush turns to the group with an awkward "Um, I can't reach it. A little help?"
He then looks towards his shaggy partner who at that precise moment had one hind foot digging deep into his ear for what must have been the worst itch in history. "Hey stop messing around over there Mister and get cracking finding who did this already. I'll help you with that itch just now. We're on the clock!"
And with a groan Mr Scruffles walks over to the pole holding the deer head and starts sniffing around.