Oleg tries to hide his disappointment that Svetlana's ring has not been found. He claps Marc on the shoulder and pats him twice. "Nothing to worry, I'm sure it'll turn up soon."
He glances over the gear you've brought back, which Taranis is laying out on one of the tables. "Got some other jewelry though, eh? Svetlana might like them earings, actually, if yer sellin'. Got plenty o' stock available."
The trader picks up one of the silver stag skull necklaces. "Picked these off dead bandits, I imagine? I hear that some of 'em wear these to show they belong to some debased cult. Dedicated to some hideous animal demon or some 'nother."
"Interesting."
Before deciding on what to do with the stag necklaces, he asks the party if this reminds them of anything. Taranis will also ask Jhod.
Taranis also takes some time to personalize his new darkwood shield... now all he needs is a standard.
I'll take that potion of Shield of Faith off your hands...
"Gladly, if you've something to trade," Oleg replies. "Been doin' a bit better business now, since you lot whooped them robbers a few weeks back. Can't thankee enough."
He scratches thoughtfully at his beard, rough nails on rough hair. "Though I did hear tell that old Davik Nettles bridge over the Shrike got burnt by bandits not too long ago, so I s'ppose that's driving more traffic the long way, past here. Shame, really, but don't say I ain't grateful for the coin. I heard tell that old Davik's dead, too, and haunting his old bridge to boot."
"Do you know who or why the bridge was burned?"
While waiting for the others, Taranis rolls his shoulders back and stretches as he prepares to bring back a bit of his family demeanor in talking with the Brevic soldiers. "Ho there friends. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Taranis Redleaf. What draws you fine lot to such unkempt lands?"
Unrak pays for the potion in coin (taken off tracker)
"Do you know who or why the bridge was burned?"
Oleg shrugs. "Robbers don' like to be charged crossing fees, I'd guess."
While waiting for the others, Taranis rolls his shoulders back and stretches as he prepares to bring back a bit of his family demeanor in talking with the Brevic soldiers. "Ho there friends. It's a pleasure to meet you. I am Taranis Redleaf. What draws you fine lot to such unkempt lands?" [dice=Diplomcay]d20+6
The three soldiers mop their brows and introduce themselves, glad of the opportunity to take a break from squaring beams and splicing rope for catapult repairs. "Orders, mostly, though I volunteered for a bit o' time away from the city," one says, sticking out a sweaty palm for Taranis to shake. "I'm Tom, Tom Cuttle, and that there's Albus Orennson, and that's Bester Wyles. Were all in the Restov city guard, under Kest--, ah, Sir Garess's direction." He nods in the direction of the knight lounging and chatting with Svetlana below.
Tom is a short, stocky man, his dragon-black hair held in a neat bun behind his head. Albus is younger, youthful and lanky, and has the pockmarked face of one afflicted with some malady of the skin early in life. Bester is the most rotund of the trio, with a wide belly and a wider smile peeking out from a week's brown bristles. Bester points at Taranis' cat with curiosity in his eyes. "How long he's been followin' you around?"
Augrym will sit at a nearby table, working on the details of his maps. This is much more people than he used to like to have around him at any given time but, his near death experiences lately have given him reason to feel comfort in the safety in others. But this does not change his personality so he keeps to himself for the most part whenever he can.
”New friend Oleg. Do you have parchment paper perchance? And if not, would you be able to acquire some for me. This notebook is good for smaller maps but I shall wish to translate this onto a larger scale. I have the case, so there is no need for anything like this. I am just in need of paper.”
"Parchment?" Oleg asks, surprised. "Don't have much use for it 'round these parts. Hold on." He enters the main hall and comes back a few minutes later with a small sheaf of parchment. "All I've got fer now. I can get more. Just one crown for the lot."
To Bester, "Not long now, but to be honest, I'm not sure which one is doing the following. Since we've bonded live has turned mighty interesting!"
To Marc, "Good idea friend. Indeed, boot soup is never fun."
Zed's elven ears twitch the tiniest bit at what sounded like a little slip of the tongue... Tom started to say a name then corrected himself?
Sense motive
Zed does not pick up anything particularly noteworthy by the remark. He later recalls that Sir Garess's first name is Kesten, and Tom perhaps avoided a minor impropriety by reverting to his surname.
Bester nods amiably at Taranis' comment. "Find him out here, did you? Interesting place, the Greenbelt. Dangerous though. An old friend of a friend had a brother who went missing in the Stolen Lands a while back. Traveling wizard. His spellbook's probably just rottin' away in the Narlmarches or in some monster's lair. A shame!" The fat man chuckles and shakes his head.
Jhod and Svetlana are both up to see you off the next morning, one hopeful, the other cheerful. The Rostlandic plain moves quickly beneath the horses' hooves. A few hours later, you re-enter the northern reaches of the Narlmarches. Dismounting and grabbing your surveying equipment, you fan out into the forest to document the gullies, streams, game trails, thickets, groves, and other assorted elements of this patch of nowhere.
*click*
Three hours into the work, Zed's howling cry sends songbirds to flight as an unmarked bear trap snaps violently shut around his ankle. Its force is enough to nearly sever his foot entirely, and the frail elf almost immediately passes out from the pain.
HIT
Status:
Zed: -7/8hp, unconscious, bleeding out
Taranis keeps healing his elven friend, Too much of your mind on the spellbook!"
Unrak tries to force the trap's jaws apart by main strength, to allow the others to drag the poor elf away.
”I’ll take it and place the order. Thank you good Oleg.”
Once Unrak tries and fails, I will attempt to disable this trap and release Zed.
”Well, perhaps caution would be better. I will scout ahead of the group and search for traps if you all think it would be a good idea.
Augrym ably depresses the spring and yanks the jaws apart, letting the hapless wizard's leg loose, allowing the team to continue.
Now alert to the danger, the Huntsmen find dozens of bear traps hidden throughout this area. Where most traps you have seen before are clearly flagged, so that they catch prey with valuable hides and not two-legged explorers, nearly all of these are unmarked and many are deviously hidden.
Seems to me that this many bear traps hints that there’s a bear problem...
”Do we wish to disarm all of them? It would be easy with a series of sticks. A child or wizard could come through here to their peril.”
Finding, flagging, and disabling the many, many traps in this region takes long, meticulous work, and takes two additional days.
On the morning of 23rd Pharast, Marc groggily rubs away his sleep in the first rays of sunlight. He strokes his beard to straighten it, stretches his arms wide, and reaches for his pants. He thrusts one leg through, then the nex--
Except someone has sewn one leg of his pants shut during the night.
|
Marc laughs at the situation. He speaks to those that he knows are watching,"You have bested me again, My Forest Friends. For weeks now, you have gotten the best of me again, and again. I bow before an equal"
Marc fishes the necklace out of this pack and places it on a branch of a prominent tree. "I leave this, my Forest Friends. A token of my respect.Oh, and when you retrieve it, watch out of the bear traps, they are quiet nasty. Zeb found one the other day. nice things, they are not. may Erastil bless your coming and going!"
”Perhaps we should be investigating these pranks? I am up all night meditating and taking watch and yet, they keep happening. I don’t mean that these creatures are dangerous but, maybe they could become allies?”
"They only seem to target those who haven't given them a present. We kept a pair of those necklaces just for that purpose. That was tough work though, and I thank you for it."
Rather than breaking camp, you decide to stay in this spot for the second night in the area as you continue your work on the traps. When you return, you find that Marc's offering, like Unrak's the week before, has been replaced with a large bear turd.
That night, Augrym determines to keep an extra vigilant watch. Despite keeping the campsite well lit and his eyes and ears attentive, the only thing he notices out of the ordinary is when several pebbles successively hit him in the back of the head around the third hour past midnight, no matter which way he turns to look for the thrower.
You finally gain confidence that you have found, flagged, and disabled all of the hidden traps in this patch of forest. You return to the campsite for a final night before striking southeast.
"Maybe you just don't have a pretty face! Ha!" Taranis laughs, though he does feel bad about the pranks. "Come, we have plenty of food, let's get more of this forest covered."
”I will leave an offering to this prankster who has bested us. They would make a mighty ally though in the fight against our enemies. I hope one day to meet them.”
”I give this offering freely to the creature who torments us.
he places a necklace with a note on the ground.
The note reads:
“Explosive Runes!!
Ha ha, made you look.”
Yeah, that sounds about right.
Taranis, Devotee of the Green, knows that healthy relationships between peoples must be fostered for the betterment of all. He beseeches Gozreh to impart some of his grace.
Zed thinks back to his time in the Academae and points out that the joke would be MUCH funnier if the Explosive Runes note was in fact decorated with magical runes that are each written slightly wrong.
"What do you say, Tyg-Titter-Tut?" calls a high-pitched, squeaky voice from somewhere in the tree-tops above. "Shall we say hello to these friendly bigginses?"
"A fabulous idea, Pervilash!" a melodic, almost sing-song voice replies from somewhere closer to your level. "They have been such fine sports! Besides, I am ahead of you!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yeah-huh!"
"Nuh-uh! We're tied! We both decided to throw pebbles!"
"But I hit the green biggins five times and you only hit him twice!"
"So?"
"So that counts as a point for me!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yeah-huh!"
A moment of silence hangs in the air.
"Okay fine but mine were funnier!"
"Were not!"
"Were too!"
"Were not!"
"Were too! And much funnier than writing 'explosive' on a leaf!"
"True. Why would a leaf explode?"
"I dunno. What are 'runes' anyway?"
"I dunno. Maybe we should ask the bigginses!"
"Good idea! Let's!"
There is a slight rustle off in a bush off to the left. Crawling out of the underbrush is a cat-sized cricket with a humanoid upper body. She beams at Augrym inquisitively, and wears two huge, oversized silver stag amulets around her tiny neck. "Why would a leaf explode, green biggins?" she asks in her musical voice. "Do leaves explode where you come from?"
"Yeah, why?" shouts the high pitched voice from above. A tiny dragon with colorful butterfly wings does several loop-de-loops in the air as he descends, finally settling on a perch atop Taranis's head. He bears one oversized silver stag skull amulet around his tiny neck, but scoops up the latest offering. "And what are 'runes'?"
Taranis opts to use his own spell, channeling Gozreh and her gifts, Enhanced Diplomacy, . He then taps each of the party. His expression mimics a court diplomat's. Once the spells are cast, he casts his dice and engages
Taranis interrupts a bit, "An exploding leave would not make my list of weirdest things in this world. Hello! I assume you are the pranksters having fun with our expedition into your wilderness? I am Taranis, this is Toth, and I'll let the others introduce themselves. I have to say, you've both got a gift for pranks."
I'm Unrak. Pleased to meecha. How much more loot do I need to ply you with to make you leave me alone?
<--Heh. The roll matches the dialogue.
"Did you hear that, Pervilash?"
"Hear what?"
"These bigginses think we're good at pranks!"
"They sure do!"
"Maybe the red biggins will give you wine! Or mead!"
"But not beer!"
"You don't like beer?"
"No! Beer is icky and bubbly!"
"I like bubbles!"
"Well maybe he'll give you beer then!"
"Maybe! Let's ask!"
The fey, who seemed very intent on their conversation and almost forgot you were listening, return their short attentions back to you.
"Hey!" the miniscule dragon asks Unrak from atop the other Redleaf's head, "Got any wine?"
"Or beer!"
"Or mead!"
"Hey! Hey! What are you doing in our forest anyway?"
"Hey! Yeah! Are you here to kick out the mean bigginses? We don't like the mean bigginses!"
"Who are the mean ones?"
"The mean bigginses!" both fey cry in unison. They seem to think this answers the question.
After a moment of uncertain silence, Tyg-Titter-Tut offers, "Like the big mean biggins with all her mean biggins friends downriver! One of her mean biggins friends stabbed you! With a knife!"
Taranis gives as clear a description as possible of the woman with the axes, "Her? Do her and her ilk where necklaces like those pretty presents we gifted you? If yes, then we indeed do plan on ridding your wood of them."
"Yes!" the tiny dragon snorts, doing a leaping loop in the air before shifting his perch to Unrak's noggin. "The big mean mean biggins!"
"Nasty bigginses, they were," Tyg-Titter-Tut agrees, nodding sagely.
Unrak starts to smile in spite of himself at the tiny blighters. I'm sorry, noble little ones, I don't have any of that today. BUT you have my word that I will get you some from Oleg's trading post as soon as he has it, and we will drink together! As long as you don't prank me anymore, OK?
We're here to get rid of some of the problems in your wood, like the nasty bigginses. Hey, by the way...do you two know about a really big, REEEEEALLY nasty bear to the south of here? I'm talking, REEEEEALLY nasty--like a bear with a sore nose!
"Hmmmm," Tyg-Titter-Tut muses. Pervilash interrupts. "Ooh! Ooh! You mean the one that hangs out at the big leafy stone place?"
"Ooh! Yeah!" Tyg-Titter-Tut agrees, dancing a brief jig with her cricket legs. "Across the Thorn-water-stream! Hmmmm, west of where you kicked out the big mean biggins!"
"The mean bigginses all avoid that bear!" Pervilash offers helpfully.
”If we have a location on the bear, should we be approaching this creature? Maybe we should collect some bear traps and put them between us and the bear as well?”
Or maybe we should just get there and git 'im
"There is a bigger biggins than the big mean biggins?" Pervilash asks Marc curiously. Tyg-Titter-Tut is also piqued: "Like, how big?"
I say we liberate that shrine & get that bear. I claim whatever of the pelt we can salvage.