Balthus nodded and probed the scouts for a little more information. Once they told him all he needed to hear, he thanked them and bought them another round of drinks before he left.
The ranger inspected the horse that Jetta set aside for him and thanked the woman. "Thank you, I appreciate what you did and I'm not one to ask things of people. I guess what I'm saying is that I'll saddle up your horse next time."
He looked at the hellknight next to the gardener and shook his head, Both women but very different. Meiren is probably in between them two.
Once everyone gathered around, he related what he learned from the scouts, "So, yes the scouts were the first on the scene. They buried the workers in a mass grave. As they were doing so, they noticed that they had some sort of rash, pretty nasty according to them. And the little 'poke marks' bothered them too. They told me to check between the tents as they left that area pretty much undisturbed."
He looked at Meiren, "That's probably where you and I need to focus before anyone else walks over any potential tracks or clues."
Inspecting the stirrups once more, he asked, "Anyone have any experience with poison or rashes or disease? Anthuria? Anything you come across in your gardens?"
Mairen crosses her arms over her chest and nods as Balthus relates his information.
"Good work. With a little luck we can pick up a trail that leads us in the direction of those who did this. It does indeed sound like fey, or perhaps some rarer, more nature oriented form of resistance. Still. We won't know till we get there."
She turns then to hear Anthuria's input on the rash.
"An old family friend," she says as evenly as she can, though it is clear she is reluctant to speak about the subject. "I wasn't expecting to see him here..."
"Yes," says Anthuria, recognizing Jetta's cool treatment of the subject. "The past has a way of sneaking up on us when we least expect it."
A memory surfaces--the face of a handsome young Varisian. She pushes it aside and instead surveys the horses.
At Balthus's report. she rushes to retrieve a small, weathered notebook from her pack.
"It's hard to say anything for sure until I've seen the marks. It could be any number of things." She quickly flips through page after page of notes.
"Let's see, belladonna, brain root, hemlock, striped toadstool..."
Seeing Balthus heading over Amund stands back up and heads over to listen. Choosing to ignore Ursa again trying to get Slasher to play Amund addresses the others, Are we ready to go then?
In your notes, you come across the following, scribbled around a sketch of the very same handsome young Varisian man of memory:
Veli Vilinuensis toxin - present in several species of thorny plants (flowering/nonflowering), most common in mountain areas. Contact with skin causes intense red rash, muscle weakness (recovery usual within a day for limited exposure). Some fey creatures known to be immune; stories exist of toxin being used as weapon by fey (mostly uncorroborated).
There are several natural hazards that could cause such a rash; without further knowledge of the fauna of the area and without being able to examine patients directly and get a history, it would be hard to narrow down a particular cause. From the description, though, it sounds as if the rash was rather severe, and the symptoms would be fairly debilitating as they began to develop, making any other activity difficult.
She stops leafing through her notebook, her eyes coming to rest on a page toward the end. Her finger delicately caresses the paper as she scans its contents, a slight smile forming at the edges of her mouth. "There you are," she murmers. After a moment she looks up, as though remembering where she is. Her eyes glint triumphantly.
"Yes, this looks promising. Well, um, you know what I mean." She slaps the book closed.
"There is a variety of musculo-toxin present in some thorny botanical species of this region. Vilinuensis toxin. Contact with the substance can cause a rash that fits our information, as well as temporary loss of muscle function. It's even spoken of in Shoanti folktales, those of the Lyrune-quah mostly, as a weapon of fey creatures, who are immune to its effects."
"If you believe in such things," she adds quickly, noting the raised eyebrows from some in the group.
Then she remembers the spikes and dagger found with the bugbears.
"Lord Arizian, sir, there is something perhaps you should see."
The ranger inspected the horse that Jetta set aside for him and thanked the woman. "Thank you, I appreciate what you did and I'm not one to ask things of people. I guess what I'm saying is that I'll saddle up your horse next time."
Jetta nods evenly.
Once everyone gathered around, he related what he learned from the scouts, "So, yes the scouts were the first on the scene. They buried the workers in a mass grave. As they were doing so, they noticed that they had some sort of rash, pretty nasty according to them. And the little 'poke marks' bothered them too. They told me to check between the tents as they left that area pretty much undisturbed."
"Of course they moved the bodies," Jetta sighs.
"If we were in the city, I'd have to arrest them for tampering with a crime scene. I can understand the need to honour the dead, but I hope this won't make it harder for us to find out what killed them..."
"There is a variety of musculo-toxin present in some thorny botanical species of this region. Vilinuensis toxin. Contact with the substance can cause a rash that fits our information, as well as temporary loss of muscle function. It's even spoken of in Shoanti folktales, those of the Lyrune-quah mostly, as a weapon of fey creatures, who are immune to its effects."
Jetta's eyes begin to glaze over as Anthuria starts her explanation, but she shakes her head and forces herself to focus. Even then, she looks rather lost until the sorceress mentions the fey.
"Fey," she mutters. "I can deal with fey."
"Do we have anything to help us deal with the poison?" she asks the group. "Or, um... toxin?"
"There is a variety of musculo-toxin present in some thorny botanical species of this region. Vilinuensis toxin. Contact with the substance can cause a rash that fits our information, as well as temporary loss of muscle function. It's even spoken of in Shoanti folktales, those of the Lyrune-quah mostly, as a weapon of fey creatures, who are immune to its effects."Jetta's eyes begin to glaze over as Anthuria starts her explanation, but she shakes her head and forces herself to focus. Even then, she looks rather lost until the sorceress mentions the fey.
"Fey," she mutters. "I can deal with fey."
"Do we have anything to help us deal with the poison?" she asks the group. "Or, um... toxin?"
Balthus nodded in appreciation at Anthuria and made sure she saw him.
He then asked, "And fey? What do we know of fey? Weaknesses, strengths, anything really that could help us?"
|
"There is a variety of musculo-toxin present in some thorny botanical species of this region. Vilinuensis toxin. Contact with the substance can cause a rash that fits our information, as well as temporary loss of muscle function. It's even spoken of in Shoanti folktales, those of the Lyrune-quah mostly, as a weapon of fey creatures, who are immune to its effects."
"If you believe in such things," she adds quickly, noting the raised eyebrows from some in the group.
...
"Lord Arizian, sir, there is something perhaps you should see."
"It seems as I feared," the man muttered, moving over to Anthuria, peeking passingly at her book.
"Fey," she mutters. "I can deal with fey."
"Do we have anything to help us deal with the poison?" she asks the group. "Or, um... toxin?"
"You all have me," he said, looking at Jetta and the rest, flashing a small cocky smile. "Let's see...scalpel, sponge, magic wand--I think we're set."
He then asked, "And fey? What do we know of fey? Weaknesses, strengths, anything really that could help us?"
The priest scratched his beard, and said, "Sprites, dryads, and folk with stag-heads," nodding respectfully at Sir Mairen. "No offense, milady.
"Fey inhabit the forests far from human hearths, and seem to be beings older than man or elf--though that is well-disputed. Nothing but good, cold iron answers them and their foul magic."
Mairen arches a brow at Sir Perry's wry tone, and then dips her head in slight acknowledgment of his apology and humor both.
"No offense taken. Perhaps we can arm ourselves with cold iron before we leave. At the very least we can procure some iron bars from the smith to be used as clubs."
She then smiles at Anthuria. [b]"Your knowledge of plants is very impressive. Do you by chance know of an antidote to Vilinuensis toxin?"
@Perry:
You do indeed catch a glimpse of Anthuria's notebook. While not a secret document, she is clearly embarrassed that her drawing should be seen. "Oh, ah, thank you My Lord." She then shuts the book.
Fey are creatures with a supernatural connection to nature. They are often painted in stories as tricksters, and their jests can often turn malicious. While some fey are known to be friendly and even quite helpful, others are wicked and cruel, especially if they perceive a threat to the wild places they call home. Most, if not all, fey harbor some sort of latent magical energy they can call upon to perform various tricks. The more powerful fey can even magically withstand damage from assailants, though the keen bite of cold-forged iron overcomes this innate hardiness.
Anthuria conveys this information to group in a slow, deliberate manner, counting her fingers as she speaks to ensure she covers all necessary points.
She nods in agreement with Lord Perry. "Cold iron may indeed work to our benefit. Perchance it is available in the Fort."
Your knowledge of plants is very impressive. Do you by chance know of an antidote to Vilinuensis toxin?
"Thank you!" she says, failing to conceal her obvious excitement at being found useful. "Not off the cuff. Perhaps if we obtain a sample of the plant a countermeasure can be designed."
"Do we have anything to help us deal with the poison?" she asks the group. "Or, um... toxin?""You all have me," he said, looking at Jetta and the rest, flashing a small cocky smile. "Let's see...scalpel, sponge, magic wand--I think we're set."
Jetta rolls her eyes, but says nothing. There is no denying the usefulness of a cleric...
"Perhaps we can arm ourselves with cold iron before we leave. At the very least we can procure some iron bars from the smith to be used as clubs."
"Yes, good idea," says Jetta. "Let's visit the smith on the way out. Hopefully they have something to spare..."
She proudly holds up her halberd, black iron inscribed with gleaming red infernal symbols. "This was forged to slay demons, but it should do just as well against fey."
Balthus pulled out his hunting knife, a heavy two-edged blade inscribed with strange runes.
"This too is made from that strange alloy, but I would rather use something heavier, if possible. I think I'll use my axe; I trust it will cleave through any evil fey."
He was about to pet Slasher when he pulled his hand away from the ill-tempered dog. "The dog will have just have to bite harder."
Quietly listening Amund reserves any comments until the end, I have a blade made of it as well though I would prefer everyone have at least something just in case. Then lets go see about some cold iron and antitoxin.
He turns to take his mount back to the stables. Then to head off to find the blacksmith.
Happy to buy the rest of the antitoxins Amund pays for the remaining three. Holding out two vials to the others, I have two extras if any of you would like to hold on to one.
Once at the blacksmiths Amund initially is looking at the much more affordable battle axe but his eye keeps being drawn to the wonderfully crafted longspear, which he decides is what he will be getting. After all it is better to keep a bit of distance in combat sometimes. Making sure complement the blacksmith on the beautifully crafted weapon.
Once everyone has made their purchases Amund heads back to the stables to again try to leave.
"That's most kind, Mr. Basurto," Anthuria says as she extends her hand in acceptance of the anti-toxin. "I just want you to know, I think you were very brave fighting the bugbears."
She's about to say something else, but turns as the blacksmith approaches.
Anthuria eyes the dagger warily. She holds it up to the light and admires the menacing glint of sunlight reflecting from its surface. Her face reflects off the blade and stares back at her.
You can't hide from the world forever, Anthuria.
"I'll take it."
With a resigned sigh, she sheathes the blade and secures it to her belt, then follows Amund back toward the stables.
"That's most kind, Mr. Basurto," Anthuria says as she extends her hand in acceptance of the anti-toxin. "I just want you to know, I think you were very brave fighting the bugbears."
She's about to say something else, but turns as the blacksmith approaches.
Handing over the vial,You are most welcome Miss Anthuria. And thank you but it is the duty I swore to do. At the arrival of the blacksmith Amund quickly turning to deal with him.
Anthuria eyes the dagger warily. She holds it up to the light and admires the menacing glint of sunlight reflecting from its surface. Her face reflects off the blade and stares back at her.
You can't hide from the world forever, Anthuria.
"I'll take it."
With a resigned sigh, she sheathes the blade and secures it to her belt, then follows Amund back toward the stables.
As they head back to the stables Amund moves to Anthuria, It is perfectly fine for you not want to be in combat you know. And you are a mage right? Many mages do not carry weapons since they never plan to draw blood. Looking a little self-conscious he continuous to speak, I am not trying to pry but you seemed hesitant to buy that dagger.
It is perfectly fine for you not want to be in combat you know. And you are a mage right? Many mages do not carry weapons since they never plan to draw blood.
"I am..."
Anthuria's unsure how to answer that question. Two days ago she would have known, certainly. But only being here for a short time, she feels like so much in her life has been tossed upside down.
She smiles at the handsome young man. "...I am sure you are right. I won't need to draw it. I'm just not used to wielding anything more deadly than a pair of garden sheers."
After forcing a laugh, "Now, let's find the others and head out. We have a Vale to secure!"
She smiles at the handsome young man. "...I am sure you are right. I won't need to draw it. I'm just not used to wielding anything more deadly than a pair of garden sheers."
Coming into the conversation late and misinterpreting the situation, the old man barked at Amund, "Leave her be, boy. She'll be fine as long as she stays away from the fighting. I thought I asked you to look out for her, not scare her half to death."
She jumps, startled. For a moment she's embarrassed, but then rolling her eyes and whipping her head around in one, coordinated movement: "Balthus, you are truly thornier than the roses we mean to clear."
She laughs at her own joke and continues walking.
Mairen nods graciously as the vials of antitoxin are handed out, and slips them into her pouch. She then takes up the cold iron battle-ax and tests its edge, then steps away to find a clear space in which to practice a few swings. She handles it with grace and confidence, and a few moments later she approaches the smith to pay him the 20gp.
Slinging the ax over her shoulder, she turns to the others.
"I believe we're ready, yes? Then I agree with Anthuria. Let us be gone."
With their preparations completed, everyone sets off from the keep. The ambush site is about eight miles away, and on horseback, the distance is eaten up in a couple of hours. The camp is only a few hundred yards off the main road, just across a newly completed bridge across the Petal River. Though Ruel and Pretty Girl are at ease, it's clear the horses borrowed from the keep are still in training - their long ears dart in circles at every one of the forest's sounds, and they huddle nervously together as the group dismounts.
Arriving at the camp, you find that very little remains of the camp. A few torn tents flank the small clearing, and a long-cold fire pit sits at its center. The freshly dug grave stands to the camp's side on the forest's edge, but as Perry had earlier implied, eight large dried bloodstains dot the clearing, marking clearly enough where the soldiers fell. A fair amount of heavy-shod boot prints criss-cross over the camp's center, but as the scout had mentioned to Balthus, they've left the area between and around the tents as unspoiled as possible.
[dice=Wisdom]1d20+5
She smiles at the handsome young man. "...I am sure you are right. I won't need to draw it. I'm just not used to wielding anything more deadly than a pair of garden sheers."Coming into the conversation late and misinterpreting the situation, the old man barked at Amund, "Leave her be, boy. She'll be fine as long as she stays away from the fighting. I thought I asked you to look out for her, not scare her half to death."
Amund glares at Balthus, Should you have heard the whole conversation you would know my intent was not to scare her. You might seem less of an ass if you did not just jump into a conversation that not only are you not a part of but do not know what has been said.
Looking around Amund notices little footprints. Following them southbound across the main road and looking into the forest. He turns and calls back to the others,
The ranger slowly dismounted and looked about camp, especially between the tents as he was told.
He picked up the small arrow and sniffed at it, "Thorny roses indeed."
He then brought it close to Slasher, "That's who we are looking. So pay attention!"
After packing up the remains of the camp in his horse, he attended Amund, "Good job but next time leave the tracking to those who have done it before."
He looked around, "Unless you all find anything else, I think we ought to follow Amund south. Are keeping tabs on Anthuria?"
With everyone else running off to inspect the camp, Jetta stays back to help Anthuria dismount. The Hellknight scans the treeline warily.
"You better go check on that arrow," she mutters. "Someone might poke their eye out..."
Anthuria accepted Jetta's assistance with thanks. She was beginning to become comfortable with the hellknight's stoic ways. Besides, the horse was quite tall.
She was about to head toward Amund's voice when something caught her attention. She turned her head away from the breeze, toward the distant treeline. There it was again.
A soft whispering emanated from the trees around her. She struggled to make out what she heard but could not. Above, the canopy of tree leaves rustled against each other, a percussive accompaniment to the mysterious voices. For a moment she felt light-headed, and darkness threatened the periphery of her vision. But the sensation soon ceased. The whispering stopped, and the trees stood innocently by.
She shook her head to clear it, aware that she had begun walking into the forest.
"Coming, coming," she called to the others as she hurried to catch up.
Mairen takes her time surveying the camp, and follows the same tracks south to where Amund stands.
"Unless the camp was attacked by a pack of human children, yes, I would say the evidence lends itself strongly to fey." She unslings her cold iron battle-ax, and holds it by her leg. Clearly she expects violence to break out in the near future.
When they others are ready, she begins to head south, following the tracks.
She was about to head toward Amund's voice when something caught her attention. She turned her head away from the breeze, toward the distant treeline.
[...]
She shook her head to clear it, aware that she had begun walking into the forest.
Wary of an ambush, Jetta turns to look in the direction Anthuria is gazing at, thinking she might have seen something in the woods. The Hellknight watches worriedly as the sorceress starts wandering towards the treeline, and takes a step to follow her. Just as she is about to say something, Anthuria starts moving in the right direction. Jetta looks on in confusion.
What in the Hells was that?
Taking the arrow back, he wrapped the flower-arrow in a cloth, placing it in an unused potion vial.
"Mind letting our plant expert take a look at that before you bank it away?" Jetta snarls annoyedly.
The Hellknight furrows her brow in confusion as she steps to take a closer look. "Is it made of... roses?"
After packing up the remains of the camp in his horse, he attended Amund, "Good job but next time leave the tracking to those who have done it before."
He looked around, "Unless you all find anything else, I think we ought to follow Amund south. Are keeping tabs on Anthuria?"
Amund forces a smile, Ah but you might miss some critical piece of information and leap to some wild accusation. They sent the lot of us out here so I plan on using my eyes along with you much more.. experienced ones. Besides how am I to improve if I do not try.
Dropping the smile and walking closer to the rest of the group. Still looking at Balthus and dropping his voice, A question though, if you will indulge the city boy. Shouldn't we be getting quieter by now, as a group? You know to try and avoid an ambush?
"Roses? Where? What have you got there, Lord Arizian?"
Anthuria is slightly out of breath after hustling up the gentle incline to the campsite. As she takes in the scene, she emits a soft gasp, her hand delicately covering her mouth.
"These poor people! Who would have done such a thing? Was it more bugbears?" she asks, as her eyes settle on the nearest bloodstain.
Anthuria frowns; her brow furrows.
"This construction is unknown to me. Most unusual. I'd like to see more."
Dropping the smile and walking closer to the rest of the group. Still looking at Balthus and dropping his voice, A question though, if you will indulge the city boy. Shouldn't we be getting quieter by now, as a group? You know to try and avoid an ambush?
"Aye, that we should but we can't. Not with this group. Meiren's armor is bad enough although the stubborn girl is good with it but we can't expect a hellknight to be too quiet." Balthus smiled at his own joke.
Crossing the road, the tracks disappear south into the forest, and the new band of explorers follows after, their horses taking mincing steps through the underbrush and gratefully cantering to revel in stretching their legs in those brief moments when the undergrowth opens up. The trail remains clear and easy to follow, bent branches and the occasional small footprint marking the ambushers' path. No surprises leap out at the adventurers, though the oppression of the thick woods makes everyone a little wary.
After a few hours of following the trail through the forest, the trees suddenly open up into a curious sight. A strangely tidy glade spreads out between the trunks rising in imposing walls on either side, with two concentric rings of rosebushes neatly outlining a small clearing in the center. Between the rings rise ancient, gnarled trees that look meticulously trimmed and nurtured. One narrow path opens into the clearing, leading the way between bushes and trees to reveal a hint at the strange stone monoliths standing in a circle at the glade's center. And it's down this narrow path that the childlike footprints lead.
Mairen slows her mount to a stop, and then swings one leg over the pommel of her saddle and slides to the ground, landing with a faint chink of armor. Loosening the battle-ax, she ties the reins of her horse to a branch, and then spends some time examining the area.
"Should we try to talk with them? We've no idea as to their numbers or strength here. Charging in could be the height of folly without a little more information."
Jetta dismounts and ties up her horse next to Mairen's. She slowly shakes her head at the paladin's suggestion, eyeing the peculiar tidiness of the glade with open suspicion. A place so well maintained and carefully tended, yet seemingly untouched by human hands... it felt wrong to her, somehow. Inimical to her purpose, perhaps.
"No. From what we saw back at the camp, I don't think they are much for talking. We'd only place ourselves at a disadvantage."
"Still, I too would prefer to not go in blind," she adds as she straps on her shield. "Having someone scout up ahead might be a good idea."