The door seems safe enough, and unlatched in any case, so Taranis leads the way. The cramped interior of the small cottage is dominated by a large loom, as well as several large reels of thread.
Augrym will thoroughly search the room but will start with any other doors he might find to see if there are any people. If no people can be found, he will start looking for clues or useful items.
Taking 20 for a 36.
The cottage is a one-room dwelling, with few places to hide... but Augrym does spot a rail-thin calico cat hiding under the legs of the loom, which eyes him warily.
”Does anyone speak cat?”
Augrym grabs the cat by the scruff and matches the cat’s stare.
”If you have information, cat, I assure you we will get it. We will find out what happened to this town and what role you and your evil race played in its downfall?”
Casts Dicern Lies…
”I will see through any of your deceit.”
As the cat continues to not talk…
”This one is a crafty one, perhaps you can get more out of him great leader brother friend Taranis. He has bested me in this battle of wills, but he will not be able to stand up to your greatness.”
Taranis looks at the cat gently, "Come here little one." He turns to Augrym, "Truly you are a fierce inquisitor my friend. I can speak Cat, but not this day. I'd have to prepare a spell for it tomorrow. Perhaps with some rations and water we can convince our new champion to stay with us until then."
Using some rations and a spell of Guidance, Taranis tries to make a new friend.
”I trust YOU with my life, brother. I trust this cat no further than our tiny wizard friend could throw it. Perhaps tomorrow we can get it to spill its secrets then.”
Augrym turns to the cat.
”Then you will be sorry you ever crossed the newest and last member of House Varn and his fellow Huntsmen...”
The cat hisses angrily and evades Augrym's every attempt to grab it from among the many spindly legs of the loom. The baron's offer of some dried jerky, on the other hand, works like a charm .
Now in the light you can see that the cat is starved to a point near death. Its ribs standout like a washing board, and clumps of hair have begun falling out from its calico coat. To Augrym's various admonishments, the cat offers only a weak "meow" in response.
"I'll learn your name tomorrow little one." Taranis looks up at the others. "Come, let us keep going."
To the west, a sod house has been dug into the base of the hill below the fort. Its heavy oaken door hangs askew.
After Bytor's tending, Unrak solemnly nods in thanks to their new friend.
"Let us be respectful of what we find, but anyone who damages the young will face my wrath."
Unrak grins darkly, and puts his hand on Tar's shoulder. No, brother. OUR wrath.
With the next building's entrance compromised, Unrak takes point--this time with his new bastard sword out and ready. He looks back to be sure the rest of the party is ready and at his back before he enters.
"We are ready, brother. Lead the way."
The interior of the structure is another one-room dwelling, in some degree of disarray. A broken hand-axe lies on the table in the center of the room. A wooden box, some smashed crockery, and a few garments lie on the floor, along with a small book that has been torn in half at the spine.
Zed scans for magic, and Taranis and Toth both search for anything like writing, clues about disappearance etc.
Zed gives a happy noise of surprise, finding that the wooden box on the floor is in fact a folding boat.
Taranis finds no other scraps of paper or other writing in the room, though the rent book still lies on the floor. The hand-axe on the table looks to be in the process of repair: rather than being wedged in the table and there broken, it lies on its side, with some twine and tools nearby.
Letting the others worry about the boat, Taranis begins thumbing through the book.
The book proves to be a hand-written journal about three-quarters full, written in a language that Taranis does not recognize. Fortunately, looking over his shoulder is Bytor, who recognizes it immediately as the tongue of his homeland: Skald.
The journal belongs, or belonged, to one Willas Gundarson, a tracker and scout in the service of Maegar Varn for some years. The journal describes various mercenary engagements some time prior to entering the Stolen Lands, as well as the founding of Varnhold and settlement of the surrounding lands. The entries document a series of skirmishes between the colonists and a tribe of barbaric centaurs that inhabit the hills to the east of Varnhold, which Gundarson names as the Nomen centaurs.
The last entry in the journal is dated as 28th Sarenith of this year, and relates a mundane scouting report of Varnhold Pass.
Bytor's careful eye notices that a page near the end that has been partially torn away. What is left at the top of the page is an entry dated as 3rd Sarenith of this year, which reads "Found bracelet by the riv--" before being torn away. On the following page is a strange rune etched in charcoal.
Will share if you make it.
”May I?” Bytor asks before reading.
Bytor is eager to read something in his mother tongue and looks through the journal. He translates everything the entries say to his companions. Finally, he comes to the page with the strange rune.
Bytor recognizes the rune as an archaic Ulfen symbol intended to ward off bad luck.
"What do you think of this last entry? Did we find a bracelet anywhere? What about the date of Sarenith the 3rd? How long ago was that? I wonder if any of this has a connection to my old colleague, Evril Pendrod?"
"I believe we did find a bracelet here actually. I don't know of any connection, but the plot thickens. We may need to be ready to deal with centaurs..."
With a sigh, Taranis exits the building to tie up the last few loose ends here.
Unlike the other houses in town, the front door of this one due north of Gundarson's has been broken down completely. A small yard adjoining the house and surrounded by a low picket fence holds the smashed remains of many clay vessels and statuettes.
"Signs of struggle. Ware and were my friends."
Taranis, scimitar out, approaches carefully with Toth. They enter the house assuming their neither see nor hear (nor smell) anything suspicious.
The interior is littered with smashed crockery, as well as a few broken furnishings, but little else. Taranis spots an hidden compartment in one wall. Nestled in a cushioning bed of straw is an elegant set of f lagons and platters, hand crafted and chased in platinum. A small placard indicates that this was intended as a wedding gift for King Noleski’s eldest daughter next spring.
Zed estimates the set's worth at around 300 crowns, due to its fine craftsmanship.
"Tragic."
Taranis steps back outside and takes the town in. "We've got two more buildings to look at. I suggest we check them out, then do a reasonable job of hiding the valuables from any potential looters. Then I suggest we settle down and piece together what little we've learned and try to make some sense of it."
If there are no objects, the Baron heads off.
The exterior of this modest cottage is neatly kept, but the curtains hang askew in its windows.
Augrym checks the door for this one before entering.
Weapons in hand, Augrym enters the room ahead of the Huntsmen to scout it out.
The interior of the home appears to have been thoroughly searched. The various bolts of cloth and tools lying about suggest the resident may have been a tailor.
Augrym will double check for the search to either see if anything was missed or to ascertain why the tailor’s house was searched and to see what possibly might be missing.
Unlike some of the other houses, this one appears to have been picked clean of any valuables.
”We are done with this house brothers. Let us move on to the next one.”
Bytor follows the company quietly looking around for clues to what happened here.
The last of the as-yet-unexplored structures in the town is a long, low building that partially surrounds a yard encompassed by a split-rail fence. A sign above a wide, barn-like entrance shows harness for a horse and a blacksmith’s anvil. Despite the abandonment of the village, it appears that many mounts and a great deal of livestock were left behind, trapped in the livery and yard. A half-dozen horse carcasses, decomposing and ravaged by the crows that continue to pick at them, lie sprawled in the yard.
"This is the last of them. Let's look around. I'll begin putting together what clues we have."
Augrym uses his considerable strength to start piling corpses.
”These creatures deserved a better fate…”
House searching:
The moment that Augrym steps into the yard, the hundreds of crows feasting on the dead rise up with a cacophonous crescendo of cawing, angry at their meal being disturbed, and form into four great murders to fend off the interlopers!
+2 if Surprise
Round I
1. Unrak, Marc (52/54 hp), Zed
2. Crows!
3. Bytor (62/66 hp), Taranis (63/65 hp, Toth 53/54 hp), Augrym
My murder is greater!!
Unrak steps up to the closest group of birds and tries to disperse them with his sword.
Unrak's fury meets thin air, and he nearly loses his grip on the sword!
Round I
1. Unrak, Marc (52/54 hp), Zed
2. Crows!
3. Bytor (62/66 hp), Taranis (63/65 hp, Toth 53/54 hp), Augrym
Zed opts for something simple to test it out. He casts a simple spell of Acid Dart and tries to sizzle a few birds for
Zed's spell takes out only a single crow, in no way diminishing the murder's capacity for... murder.
Round I
1. Unrak, Marc (52/54 hp), Zed
2. Crows!
3. Bytor (62/66 hp), Taranis (63/65 hp, Toth 53/54 hp), Augrym
Marc's aim is better, though his weapon is not well-suited to the task. A few crows fall dead as the glaive passes through the murder.
All four murders swarm over the intruders, striking at skin, hair, and eyes with sharp beaks and sharper talons.
Round I
3. Bytor (57/66 hp), Taranis (48/65 hp, Toth 43/54 hp), Augrym (71/78 hp)
Round II
1. Unrak (92/95* hp), Marc (45/54 hp), Zed (24/39 hp)
2. Crows! (red @ 10 dmg)
Unrak growls at the birds, and draws an alchemist fire as he steps back. He underhands it, trying to get as many birds as he can
Urged on by Bytor, Unrak just wrenches his face away before talons found his eyes. He tosses an alchemist's fire a few feet away, and manages to singe a few feathers.
Round I
3. Bytor (57/66 hp), Taranis (48/65 hp, Toth 43/54 hp), Augrym (71/78 hp)
Round II
1. Unrak (92/95* hp), Marc (45/54 hp), Zed (24/39 hp)
2. Crows! (red @ 10 dmg, blue @ 1 dmg, black @ 1 dmg)
Taranis steps out of the swarm, drawing his oft neglected scimitar, and swings for the swarm: for
Toth gnashes at as many birds as he can while also clawing like crazy!
for
for
for
Taranis swipes behind him with a blade as he retreats, while Toth leaps into the air to bite and claw at as many birds as he can.
Round I
3. Bytor (57/66 hp), Taranis (48/65 hp, Toth 43/54 hp), Augrym (71/78 hp)
Round II
1. Unrak (92/95* hp), Marc (45/54 hp), Zed (24/39 hp)
2. Crows! (red @ 12 dmg, white @ 14 dmg, blue @ 1 dmg, black @ 1 dmg)