It doesn't take Dashki long to find you after the meeting with Almah. Pulling from a cloth-wrapped bundle, the tracker hands out torches to those without darkvision. "I know this area," he explains. "It's rocky. Uneven ground. Cacti. Watch your step. Pugwampis are small, smaller even than halflings. Light fur, dirty claws, head like a jackal. Can't miss 'em."
The trail is eventually discerned from the mess around the burned wagon: a pair of jackal prints, heading away from the camp into the darkness. Strangely, the sand around the tracks is churned as if something was digging its heels in.
As you move into the darkness, the flickering torchlight causes all manner of strange shadows and tricks of the light. You see no sign of the jackal-headed tricksters Dashki spoke of, yet every scrub bush seems to hold a dark, threatening shape… until you draw nearer and see it is only a shadow on a rock. Although you are only a few hundred feet away, the campsite is out of sight now, disappearing behind a small hillock as you follow the tracks into the dark night.
Gradually, the vegetation grows thicker as the strange trail leads further into the night. The air is still and totally silent, lending a hushed tone to any conversation. The hairs on your necks stand as you hear the faint cry of something or someone in pain or terror, not unlike a child. Pressing forward towards the sound, you hurry through the cacti and spiny bushes looming out of the darkness, catching your clothing as they press their sharp thorns against you.
A distinct sense of foreboding – an unnatural sense of threat, or danger sets in. However, all around you though is nothing but silent cacti, seemingly shifting in the strange flickering light of your torches. As your small group comes nearer to the sound, you are faced with a sudden cluster of the spiny plants, a thicket which blocks your path requiring you to proceed carefully in order to avoid the wicked thorns. Despite the lack of enemies, you can’t shake the feeling of impending doom.
'That screaming sounds like a goat, but what is causing this feeling of horror, I was around the camp earlier, there is no imminent threat, why does the torch light causing shadows bother me so much.' Gnasher, leading the pack, looks around nervously as he stops at the thicket, chattering nervously he tells the team, "Noise is goat, sounds like it from thicket, Gnasher will take point to investigate." Gnasher begins to quietly move into the thicket, keeping a keen eye out, great flail at the ready.
Redeemed waits silently through Dashki’s explanation and the subsequent conference with Alma, trying to follow the discussions of guilt and proof, wishes and luck. Once ordered to go looking for pugwampis, he follows the others out into the desert night.
It is very dark. Alma says to find a pugwampi. She commands Garavel. We do not wait for the sun. It is very urgent. If we find no pugwampis, Dashki is guilty.
Redeemed pays no heed to the cacti and their spines, acquiring an irregular coat of broken thorns sticking out if his armor on his legs and arms where he bumps into them.
The dead man was a liar. Full of sin. But the one who burned him is guilty. It must not have been their place to burn him.
Redeemed slows with the rest of the group at the thicket, cocking his head slightly at the sound of the baleful cries which Gnasher says come from a goat.
But it is my place to burn them…?
Peering out across the cacti into the darkness, with Gnasher's form melting away into the night, Redeemed is about to speak an incantation when he stops himself. He looks over to the figure of Mital, the shadows sparing his head from a greater fire at the sight of her.
“I wish I could see better.”
Thanks to her Efreeti heritage, Mital has very good night vision. Unfortunately she's never had to search for anything in her life (there were always lesser slaves for that), so she's not exactly sure what she's should be doing.
Instead she wanders slightly behind the main party and tries to point out anything they may have missed.
"I can see all right, Redeemed, but I'm afraid I'm no good at this kind of work. Maybe we can try looking together?" she says to the oddly dressed man.
The strange scream nearly causes her to jump out of her clothes, but it seems like she gets a hold of herself enough to prevent an embarrassing faux pas.
"A goat? Oh my, I can see why people become vegetarians if that's the noise they make when they're slaughtered," she says in a low voice, half in response to Gnasher.
Distracted by the wonderful conversation of goat meat, Gnasher looks back over his shoulder, opening his mouth and lulling his tongue smiling his Gnoll smile, "Goat not make noise long, next noise scream, next noise neck snapping, sound like heavy branch breaking." he thinks for a moment, "Goat butchered for human, next sound delicious sizzling as fat drop on fire.' Widening his gnoll smile he continues "Goat butchered for gnoll sound ripping and tearing and bone crunching. If Gnasher lucky Gnasher demonstrate all sounds later!
spurred on by the idea of a wonderful goat meal, Gnasher presses on into the thicket.
|
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Before
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Priscilla stops abruptly just outside the tent, her mind racing at Gnasher's speech which consists of bark, grunts, and whines. These words stagger around her vision in scratchy blue waves, thanks to her senesthesia.
He knows. Of COURSE he knows. He has a better nose than even mine. He's speaking in his native tongue so he obviously means to keep it secret for now...
"ეჭვი არ მეპარება, რომ თქვენ შეგიძლიათ აკონტროლოთ ამ არსებების სიბნელე. ზოგიერთი ჩვენგანი ფიქრობს, უფრო სახლში , ვიდრე სხვები .
She rewards Gnasher with a knowing wink and a genuine smirk confirming their kinship before striding forth to find their foul smèlling culprit turned guide.
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Later
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Gnasher, really must stop his colorful talk of goat slaughter. I'm already tempted to shift so that I might be able to see the clarity of my true eye past these blasted Caryophyllaleses. Making me hungry is NOT helping.
Unfortunately, it seems Priscilla is far too distracted to provide anyone any help.
"My dear Mïtal, I tink it's inhèrently difficult to take serioùsly anyone who only eäts the food that MY food eäts. I tink Gnasher will agreè."
Priscilla does her best to push through the thorny terrain, a look of irritation breaking her youthful face. As she rips the garment under her armor from a piece of cactus for the third time, Priscilla grunts in a very improper manner(bordering on bestial) and twists the bone handle of her cane, sliding its bladed contents out into the cool night air. She begins hacking unceremoniously at the occasional plant that dares impede her, all while still trying to keep up with Gnasher.
"Sarete Macelleto!"
She lets loose an outburst in her native tongue, not only from her present frustration but also the unnerving feeling that had gripped her sense their arrival, sending the hairs on the back of her neck to stand erect.
As you progress, the local cacti begin to grow more and more intense until you find yourselves at the edge of a dense thicket of the prickly plants. The cactus forest is thick, but not terribly deep. It takes moments of careful maneuvering to discover the source of the cry.
As Gnasher predicted, a goat is tethered to a scrub brush by a hairy, knotted rope. An alpine milk breed with a mottled hide of white, tan, and black, its tiny bleats erupt into full-fledged brays of fear as the light from your torches fall on it. It begins to tug wildly against the rope at its neck.
Redeemed nods at Mital, and moves nearer to her to peer about in the field of cacti.
”I cannot see well. I will make better light.”
Pushing on through the local cacti, coming to the dense thicket of prickly plants, Gnasher begins to move carefully into the thick cactus. "Gnasher see goat, not pugwampis, keep watch for trixters, find pugwampis someplace." hefting his heavy flail as he goes. Not paying attention to the cactus, Gnasher catches his paw on one of the plants. "რა ააფეთქეს მცენარეები" He growls as he looks around for pugwampis.
An attempt to cross the cactus-crowded "forest" to reach the terrified goat ends in partial failure for Mital. She can't help but scrape up against one of the things, drawing a large bead of blood on her right shoulder.
Nemeris picked his way behind the party, lost in thought. This almost ended disastrously when he stumbled over a rock and nearly planted the whole of his head squarely along the side of a rather gnarled cactus. After that he took more care with his steps, and swung his lit staff along the ground, lighting his path.
As the hunt for evidential pugwampis led them deeper into the countryside, Nemeris felt a eerie feeling come over him, almost like apprehension. Perhaps they would find something out in the hills after all.
Destined to repeat his mistakes, Nemeris forgot his footing once again as he was distracted by the bleating goat, and tripped into a cactus, piercing him through his tunic and causing him to yelp in pain - drawing several stern looks from the party. Taking this as a cosmic sign of advice, he put his hand in front of him, murmuring under his breath, and the air softly shimmers around him for a moment before dissipating.
Zagathoth sees quite well in the darkness, but when he hears that Redeemed can't he summons several balls of light that hang in the night air like tiny little suns, that dance out from him and move with the group illuminating things as they go. He does his best watch for danger, or signs of gremlins, along the way and tries hard to work his way through the cacti safely.
"I'm no expert on this sort of things," he offers warmly as they approach the goat, "but an animal tied up like this seems like a trap..."
Gnasher rolls his eyes as Zagathoth warns about traps, whil he plucks the thorn from his Paw, he snaps a little at Zagathoth comment "Trap is why Gnasher warn to keep watch for pugwampis."
Gnasher smiles slightly lulling his tongue out of his mouth, and asks Zagathoth. "Zagathoth, we camp here for night, when sun come up you dance with low fruit hanging?"
"Hahaha," Gath laughs loudly, "not in here, no. I would move outside of the cactus patch for that, Gnasher!"
Seeing no pugwampis and pricked by painful thorns, you finally manage to reach the goat. You emerge from the cacti onto a thin strip of open ground at the edge of a 15-foot-wide ravine. A casual glance down the edge reveals a huge, multi-armed, wickedly barbed cactus dominating the ground 10-feet below, almost directly below where the goat has been lazily tied. The poor beast is covered in quills and breeding profusely.
'the goat is tied, someone had to tie it up, where are they at?' looking around carefully for whoever tied the goat, Gnasher asks "Where did goat come from? Who tied goat? where are Pugwampis" Gnasher growls a little as he puts away the flail and draws his axe, he carefully approaches the goat, causing it to bleat louder at the sight of a gnoll, he then attempts to use his axe to cut the rope where it is tied to the small tree, trying to leave plenty of rope to lead the goat with. 'we know it is a trap, the only way to find those who set it is to spring it.'
Redeemed touches his helmet as he chants out a simple spell.
His helmet now aglow, Redeemed trails behind the rest of the group through the thick cacti, momentarily recoiling as he gashes a hand on a cactus in the process.
Gnasher's axe chops through the rope with ease, releasing the goat, which practically plows into the gnoll in a panic. With a shriek of outrage, the pugwampi reveals itself. As if the world's most revolting lapdog had somehow learned to walk on its back legs, the sickly looking gremlin leaps for Gnasher's axe. A shrill keening noise erupts from the axe, which shudders with rapid vibrations.
Combat map linked here. Please place yourself on the map if you haven't already.
'finally, they show themselves, bad mistake gremlin' Gnasher too excited to even speak just releases a guttural sound as he grasps the axe in two hands and swings it at the pugwampi.
Gath is taken aback by the appearance of the dog-faced gremlin, but quickly regains his composure. Following Gnasher, he steps up and with a fluid almost dance-like swing attempts to cut down the creature...
Zagathoth's graceful blade slices into the tiny monster, causing it to shriek in pain. It stumbles backwards a few steps, clutching a the bloody wound before collapsing and curling into a fetal position. It shudders momentarily and dies. Lying there, it looks almost delicate, like a sick child, but with its passing ends that feeling of dread that permeated the air.
Dashki lips forward, picking cactus thorns from his clothes. "There's the culprit. I knew we'd find one out here. The goat looks like it belongs to Hadrod and Hadrah too. We killed two birds with one stone; Almah will be pleased. Shall we head back and clear my name?"
Redeemed watches as Gnasher frees the goat and is surprised when the strange dog-baby thing leaps out at them. Before he can even process what is happening, Gnasher’s axe and Zagathoth’s sword have both flashed out at the creature, and it falls dead.
They are Gnasher and Gath. They are quick. Very quick.
Redeemed moves up to peer at the odd little corpse as Dashki makes his suggestion. Even he can tell that the night now seems less strange and oppressive.
”This is a pugwampi?” He looks at Dashki, then to Gnasher and Zagathoth. ”This was guilty of starting the fire?”
'He is good with the scimitar, that will prove handy when we go after the Carrion King' Nodding as Zagathoth strikes down the pugwampi Gnasher picks up the carcass by the neck and showing it to the team answers Redeemed "Yes Redeemed, a Pugwampi, very unlucky, Who will bring goat? Or butcher here?"
Waiting to see if anyone wants to take the goat back or butcher it here, Gnasher asks, looking over the cliffs edge, "Should we explore more? Gnasher have rope."
Gnasher frees the goat, the pugwampi appears, and suddenly is cut down by Gath without much of a fight.
Mital stands stunned by the quick outbreak of violence, lasting less than few seconds. She's never been in a fight herself, but she quickly composes herself.
"That was... not what I was expecting. Before we start thinking about dinner, might there not be more of them? I can't imagine that such a feeble creature could trouble the caravan... unless there were several of them," Mital says, eying the half-mad goat with a little disdain.
Gnasher quickly looks around for anymore Pugwampis then Gnasher looks at Mital shaking his head in a very human motion, "Feeble yes, Pugwampis very unlucky, make fire jump, only take one for that."
Then following Mital's eye he also looks at the goat. 'The goat would be easier to take back dead, or eat it here, too bad it belongs to these Hadrod and Hadrah.' pointing Gnasher asks "will goat last till camp? Or someone fix here? Gnasher can carry, but goat will injure goat more struggling."
Gath quietly utters a prayer to the Everlight then reaches out a glowing white hand and touches the goat, closing up its wounds.
"Gnasher, you seem to know the most about these creatures," he says softly, "does stealing a goat and using it to bait a trap seem like something they would do?"
Gnasher nods his head approvingly, in a very human gesture, as Zagathoth heals the goat, then shrugs his shoulders, also a very human gesture, answering the question "Gnasher not for sure, Gnasher heard of them when little, then raised with humans." turning to Dashki he ask "What say you Dashki, trap or hungry Pugwampi?" Looking back to Zagathoth and then to Priscilla he asks, "We explore more or go back?"
Mital gently inclines her head to Gnasher. Her certainly knows more about these disgusting creatures than she does.
She smiles as Gath heals the goat, happy that the creature is no longer suffering. The other members of their little search group look like they no longer sense danger, so she decides it must be appropriate to relax.
While the others chat she, wanders over to the ledge and looks into the crevasse below. She's not really looking for anything in particular, as just passing the time while the others decide what to do.
"Be careful!" Gath calls out to the beautiful ifrit, "If these creatures cause I'll fortune, the side of a crevasse may not be the safest place..."
"It isn't a trap," explains Dashki. "Remember that feeling when we got near the pugwampi? Like your skin was trying to crawl off and hide some place dark? Do you still feel it? You don't because there aren't any more pugwampis here." He nudges the corpse with his foot. "Now let's take this back and be done with it. The foothills are dangerous after dark as it is without hanging around out here."
Mital's head whips around at Gath when he calls to her, realizing her foolishness.
"Of course. I just wanted to get a good view of the countryside," she says, stepping away from the ledge.
"As Master Dashki says, let's get back to the encampment and report to Lady Almah."
Mital doesn't make a move to pick up the corpse of the pugwampi herself, but she begins heading back in the direction of the camp.
The return to the campsite with your disgusting quarry is without incident. Using the rope that restrained the goat, Dashki fashions a crude noose and hangs the pugwampi corpse from the top of his walking staff.
As you arrive back a Keleshite man, Hadrod, one of the animal keepers and camp cook, gives a shout of happiness and runs over to collect the goat, his wife, Hadrah, trailing him.
"Oh Rothbard, you rascal!" he scolds the animal. "Wherever did you get to? I was worried sick.."
"He's been worried sick, Rothbard, you silly creature!" Hadrah interrupts. "Wandering off like that!...You never know what might..."
"...be out there," concludes Hadrod, leading the goat away happily as he begins to pick cactus spines out of the creature's coat. "And look at you! All covered in thorns and prickles. Honestly, if it wasnt for these kind people..."
"If it wasnt for these kind people," continues his wife. "Who knows what would have happened!"
"Who knows what would have happened," agrees Hadrod. "Mister Nemeris, sir. I never got the chance to thank you for saving as many of my animals when the fire broke out. Thank you ever so much. And you friends too..."
"Don't forget to thank his friends too," admonishes Hadrah, smiling apologetically at the rest of you. "I'm sorry about him. He's terribly upset you see..."
"I was going to," insists her husband as the two of them wander off towards their tent.
"Well, you mustn't be rude. You know how you get...." The two excited commoners continue chatting as they leave you to report to Almah and Garavel.
"So," begins Almah as she and Garavel join you, peering intently at the limp body that hangs from Dashki's staff, "This is a pugwampi? A loathsome creature to be sure."
Butcher the goat here? Is Gnasher still hungry? He is the best fed. But he is also a dog.
The party decides to return to camp with the goat intact, and Redeemed again follows along, relying on his natural balance to keep him from stumbling as he stares at the swinging Pugwampi corpse the whole way back.
We found a pugwampi. A pugwampi means Dashki is innocent. I will not burn his sin away. Dashki is very proud that he is innocent. That he will not burn.
I do not know what I would be if I did not burn.
Upon their return to camp, a pair from the caravan is very excited to see the goat. Redeemed attends them with great interest.
His name is Rothbard. He is a rascal. He is a goat. It is good we did not eat him.
When Almah speaks, Redeemed shifts his attention to her and Garavel, awaiting her judgment.
As Dashki flippantly takes the pugwampi away from Gnasher and then displays it on his staff Gnasher growls under his voice. "ეს არ არის თქვენი ნადირობის ცარიელია პრეტენდენტის", turning his back to the scout he picks up the now lead-rope-less goat and carries it back to camp.
As the odd couple go on and on about the goat, Gnasher hands the beast to the man, looking very confused, he turns to Priscilla and asks "მე არ იცნობს ამ ჩვევა, არ ადამიანები ჩვეულებრივ ასახელებს მათი საკვები?"
Once in the presence of Almah and Garavel, Gnasher kneels on his haunches, letting those with a better grasp of the nuances of human speech explain the situation to their employers.
Gnasher, sitting on his haunches, waiting for one of the more eloquent humanoids to answer their employer, pulls his last rib bone out of his belt and starts munching on it.
"Thank you for finding and destroying this devil," Almah exclaims. "You have certainly proved your worth to me tonight. Zastoran!" The elderly priest of Nethys hurries over to where you are standing.
"See to their wounds," she instructs. Almah turns back to you. "This place is too exposed. Tomorrow I need the six of you to explore and secure a ruined monastary to the northwest. I will feel much better with a stone wall between me and these... things out there in the dark."
"Ahh...my lady," begins Zastoran deferentially. "I'm afraid that my powers of healing are exhausted. The fire..." he trails off, gesturing towards the burnt out wagon by way of explanation.
"Use some of those potions you're so fond of," she orders, annoyance creeping into her voice. "That's why I paid for them, isn't it? We need to find a secure base quickly and I'm not waiting another day." Dismissing the priest who heads back to his tent, an agrieved expression on his face, Almah turns once more to the five of you.
"I need you to rest tonight and prepare yourselves to explore this monastery tomorrow. With luck we will be able to move the camp inside those walls by tomorrow evening," she begins. "Also, we need to discuss your terms of employment in this venture. If the six of you are able to secure the monastery, I will grant each of you one hundred gold coins. Once we have secured all of Kelmarane - a further two hundred. I trust this is acceptable to you?"
Gath smiles as Almah, at last, opens the floor to their input. "I would be glad to assist in the healing," he offers with a bow, "and I don't want to speak for him but I believe Redeemed may be able to help as well. As for payment, I'll gladly abide by whatever terms you arrive at with the rest of the party."
Gnasher sits on his haunches, quietly crunching his bone as he listens. Bahram would like this Alhmah, she speaks of our worth and backs up her statement by taking care of us. Bahram always said a good merchant takes care of his merchandise, including his slaves and employees.
Gnasher swallows the last of his rib bones and cocks his head as their employer explains their next step, then smiles his Gnoll smile as she reprimands her other employee Good, she knows not to put up with insolence from anyone, no matter how self important.
Listening carefully to the details, he unconsciously, and in a very human way, sighs slightly and shrugs his shoulders. 'We must do the work in the day, due to the humans inability to see at night. Oh well, so much for my afternoon nap.'
Nodding his head in agreement to the gold offered, he begins to stand up and stretch, having been squatting for what seemed like days She is smart, give some now, offer even more for later. She is truly a merchant princess.
"Alright. We have an agreement. Garavel will speak with you tomorrow before you depart. Good luck." With that, Almah disappears into her tent.
---
In the morning, Garavel musters you all to ensure you understand your orders. He is accompanied by Father Zastoran who seems decidedly unhappy.
"The six of you are to explore and secure the ruined monastery," he reiterates, handing you a map. "Lady Almah does not wish to spend another night without a secure and easily defensible base of operations. If possible, we need to be able to move in tonight. Zastoran has prepared some healing potions for you, make sure you use them wisely - our resources are not unlimited."
Father Zastoran frowns as he moves amongst you, distributing small vials of an oily red liquid. "These will cure you of most wounds," he explains, glowering sternly. "They are very expensive. Only use them in an absolute emergency! With luck, you will not need them at all. I will be able to tend to any wounds when we join you this evening - If any fighting breaks out and you sustain injury, try to wait until then for any healing you may need. There's no sense wasting such valuable charms unless it's absolutely necessary."
"Any questions?" asks Garavel before you depart.
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Redeemed unclasps his helm and, following Gnasher's lead, draws the rib bone out of his own belt. Quietly chanting his Ignan incantation causes the bone the char, then he begins gnawing on it through the mouth-hole of his leather mask while Almah inspects the pugwampi.
There is little meat on this bone. I do not think it worth eating. But Gnasher enjoys it. He crunches on he bone.
Testing his teeth on one end of the bone, he succeeds in cracking it open and reaches the marrow within.
Ah! There is more food hidden inside! Gnasher finds treasure that others throw away. Gnasher is clever. And quick. And a dog.
Engrossed in his snack, Redeemed forgets Almah until she speaks again. He halts his meal and listens, bone in mouth, as she lays out their next task. He nods along with the others' agreement.
Once dismissed, Redeemed finds a promising looking rock and squats down next to a campfire, taking out his hammer and smashing the rock to pieces before singing to himself in Ignan while reassembling it.
If it's crooked make it straight;
Things in pieces, things in knots,
Things that crumble in tiny parts.
Some are twisted, some are cracked,
Some been bended 'til they snapped.
Things are mended, things are glued,
I have done the best I can do.”
He repeats the process until he grows tired, at which point he puts away his hammer and curls up on the ground to sleep.
***
The next morning, Redeemed listens carefully to Garavel's instructions, repeating them back to remind himself and to show he understands.
"We must cleanse the monastery of sin. So all will be safe there."
Redeemed accepts the vial from Zastoran. Trying to make sense of the unhappy man's instructions, he handles it very carefully as he stows it in his fine backpack. This is very valuable. I must give it back tonight. It is not for drinking.
"Do not worry. I will burn away sins inflicted upon our bodies."
After being dismissed from Almah's presence Gnasher walks to the campfire, pondering. 'Zagathoth did all the talking, I wonder why Lady de Lacrimosa deferred to him. He is not a bad looking sort for a human, but neither is Mital, and we don't want her running things.'
As he follows the humans, he dangles his tongue out of his mouth in his Gnoll smile. I wonder what Redeemed looks like under his mask, he is a peculiar fellow, but at least willing to try new experiences, I will have to make sure he stays alive.'
As Gnasher sits by the campfire he listens to Redeemed's song and watches as he bashes the rock with the hammer. 'I must ask him what language he is singing in, it has an unusual cadence, I wonder if he would teach it to me'
As Redeemed finishes his hammersong and goes to sleep, Gnasher gets up and moves into the darkness. 'I will check the perimeter one more time and then leave the guard work to the mercenaries. They seem to have the camp security well in hand.' smiling to himself. 'Except where puwampis are concerned'
Settling down for the evening, near the fire, Gnasher tosses and turns, sleeping fitfully when he is normally awake. Rousing in the morning. 'I hate sleeping at night, but if I am going to work with this group of humans it will be required. I will miss my afternoon naps.
Gnasher joins the others as they accept the map from Garavel, looking over Redeemed's shoulder at the map, nodding. Gnaasher, having a gift for the obvious asks Garavel, "What know you of ruined monestary?"
As he accepts the vial from Father Zastoran, recognizing it, he snarls at the cheap priests innuendo, "If Gnasher need healing, Gnasher use healing, others too, even if Gnasher must pour it down throat."
Gnasher will drink his flask. He will make others drink as well. Gnasher is the best fed. Perhaps he thinks we do not drink enough?
"Little, I'm afraid," Garavel confirms. "It was once a place of worship for the devoted of Sarenrae; specifically for an obscure local saint. However, preliminary scouting by Dashki has found that a covered hillock on the western approach will allow you to observe the location undisturbed. He also reports that he heard baboon sounds from inside. Be careful."
Zastoran gives Gnasher a look that would curdle butter, but says nothing.
---
The five of you assemble and begin heading towards the monastery, nearly an hour trek from the Sultan's Claw campsite. As you depart, the rest of the camp are breaking into their familiar routines. The Pactmaster guards and Garavel remain with Almah whilst Hadrod, Hadrah and Zastoran busy themselves with their duties. The mercenaries perform a thorough scout of the nearby area, checking for any signs of trouble. They also begin dismantling the burnt out wagon, salvaging what they can. Dashki keeps to himself, gobbling down a breakfast before heading out into the wilderness also, though in a different direction from that your party is taking.
As you draw nearer, you take position on the hill. The building looks structurally sound, although there are many holes in the roof and some of the walls. There are also signs of old towers which have now collapsed. Surprisingly, most of the windows still have stained glass panes intact. The only entrance to the building appears to be through two gaping holes in the western wall.
A guttural bark, not unlike a dog, sounds from someplace inside.
In the morning Gath rises before dawn, walks a short ways out of the camp, disrobes, and performs his ritual dance as the sun rises (quite possibly to the surprise of those who hadn't been part of Garavel's little caravan). After slipping back into his clothes and armor he joins everyone else for breakfast.
Gnasher has Redeemed chewing bones now... perhaps I should try to do more to guide him... I am curious, though, if or when he'll start making judgments about what should and shouldn't be mimicked...
Hearing Garavel talk of a local saint, he tries to remember any songs or tales about him... ...but can't seem to recall any.
*****
From the crown of the hillock, Gath struggles to see any details inside the church, or hear anything less obvious...
When the barking sound rings out he turns to Gnasher and asks, "Was that Gnollish, or some sort of dog?"
'follow the western approach and baboon sounds, well that is more information than I expected from Dashki.' Gnasher nods to Gravel to acknowledge the information, ignoring the little man, Zastoran, completely. Hefting his pack and flail, Gnasher leads the team out of the secure camp into the wilds of Gnoll country, noticing that Dashki is also leaving, but going a different direction.
Leading the group to the western side of the temple he takes a position on the hillock near Gath, making a motion with his paw to Redeemed to stay low alss. Looking and listening, hearing the same barking as Gath, he answers softly, "sound more like Baboon to Gnasher." turning to the investigator "What say you Lady Lacrimosa baboon or other?"
Redeemed perks up at Garavel's mention of an "obscure local saint," a memory seeming to loom within the fires of his mind...
You lie in wait, watching the monastery for ten or fifteen minutes. You don't see any movement, although hear the odd noise from deep inside - an animal call that could easily be a troupe of baboons.
'Sounds like baboons, and I don't see or smell anything else yet, of course we are quite a distance away. Well the sooner we get this done the sooner I can return to my napping.'
being impatient, not waiting for the investigator to answer, Gnasher grunts as he rises, "If just baboon that good, we shall hunt them, baboon good eating. If enemy, that good too, Gnasher then have chance evaluate fighting ability. Try Keep alive, Gnasher not want carry bodies back to employer."
Staying an a low crouch flail in paw, moving at a pace that the humans can keep up with, Gnasher moves toward the building and the nearest entrance. Keeping his eyes, ears and nose open, paying attention for any unusual activity.
Scimitar in hand, Gath follows closely behind Gnasher.
Perhaps I've been going about this all wrong... in waiting to see how Redeemed will respond in different situations I've accidentally allowed Gnasher to become the default leader of this little band... he seems fairly noble for a gnoll, but still not a great choice for a leader... Nemeris seems perfectly content to keep his face buried in his esoteric books, and Mital didn't even come with us today (which is a shame because she really is quite pretty), so that just leaves Priscilla or me... she seems a bit odd, and hasn't done anything this far to assume any leadership... I suppose I had better take a more active role in leading then... maybe once he sees me as the leader Redeemed will emulate me more than Gnasher...