Tessaria Moondown |
Tessaria shakes Unrak's hand with a warrior's grip. "So it most definitely seems you speak for yourselves, and in some cases damn the consequences. But then again, sometimes a man's silence is the most deafening. Sometimes it's not the action, but the inaction, that costs you the most."
She shakes her head, instantly banishing the introspection. "Yes, Tess is fine. Now if it's all the same I'd like to move on. I suspect you feel the same."
Marc Jorstad |
Marc takes point. He needs to be alone and think.
survival: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (4) + 11 = 15
perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Marc leads the group East into uncharted territory.
Bytor Sniegsun |
Bytor watches the interaction and for a moment says nothing as he lets the two strong personalities work out their differences. When tensions settle a bit, he remarks with a smile, "It is nice to have you join our company, Tessaria. I admit that sometimes the manners of these boys can be a little rough. However, you should know that they are good folk in their hearts. Mind you, I would be remiss if I did not tell you that I am pleased to to have you bring a bit more balance to our company. I am grateful to have you here."
Tessaria Moondown |
Tessaria gives a smile and a nod for the bard, clearly appreciative of Bytor's words.
GMTrex |
1d100 ⇒ 71
You make some progress eastward before the sun sets and necessitates a halt. The campfire does little to help with the chill wind that blows freely across the open plain. Marc and Tess lay out their bedrolls on opposite sides of the camp. You awake to a cold morning on [color=teal]19th Neth[/color], and pack up with stiff fingers.
You continue east through the open grasslands for several hours. As you debate a halt for a small luncheon, the ground beneath your feet begins to shake. Soon, you recognize the unmistakable sound of hooves, and Augrym points out a party of riders heading your way from the east at full speed...
Tessaria Moondown |
Note to the GM: Tess is like Raen in that she only needs 2 hours of rest due to a ring of sustenance she wears.
"I'm guessing you weren't counting on company," Tessaria says, drawing her sword. "Are we letting them come, or should we take this opportunity to hide and let them pass?"
Bytor Sniegsun |
"This does not look good." Bytor declares matter of factly.
Bytor takes the moment to hide from view in case there is trouble.
Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
GMTrex |
Marc and Bytor both lie flat on the grass, but the wide-open plain provides little cover to hide behind, and soon the riders are upon you. They come in a thunderous galloping charge, sending up shrill yips and howls into the cold air. As they draw near, you see that they are not riders, but centaurs! Eight is their number, and they move to surround you, stamping furiously on the ground, brandishing weapons, and venting fury into the air...
Marc Jorstad |
IF they haven't attacked, marc will stand up and keep the tip if his pole arm in front of him but low to the ground.
"Greetings, I am Marc (what is this guys last name again?? oh yeah!)Jorstad" He begins, "Marshall of the Marshlands. May Erastil's Blessings be upon you this day."
diplo: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
He waits for a response,
GMTrex |
One of the centaur women (for they are all women) stops circling to approach Marc, stamping her hooves down in front of him menacingly. She shouts at him. "You! Go back!"
Another stops behind the first, and speaks rapidly to her in a language that Marc does not recognize. But the words are clearly unfriendly.
Taranis Redleaf |
"Ho there! Well met noble ones. I am deeply sorry to have invaded your land, but we come in peace. We come seeking knowledge. We come humbly to your threshold. I am Baron Taranis Redleaf, friend to the land and her people. I also come bearing gifts of gratitude and perhaps answers of our own."
Taranis holds out THE bow
"We have recovered this bow, clearly of your make from the site of a massacre. We return it to its rightful owners, though we do not have it's story to tell before we found it."
Taranis keeps his speech to that, awaiting a response.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (18) + 18 = 36
GMTrex |
Several centaurs gasp audibly when Taranis begins speaking, and those still circling slow to a walk, voices stilled.
All of the centaurs gasp, louder this time, when he produces the bow. Then they all begin talking in Sylvan at once.
"Skybolt!"
"Could it be?"
"By Mother Moon!"
"It is so!"
"Skybolt!"
"Mother Moon shines on us."
"Mother Moon shines on him."
After a moment the murmuring dies down. The first who had spoken takes a step forward and addresses Taranis.
"You speak well, Taranis Redleaf. I am Eumelia Windrunner. You are unlike the others who have come before you, pressing on us from the south and west. How come you to hold Skybolt, the storied bow of our forebears? Of what massacre do you speak?"
Tessaria Moondown |
Tessaria looks at Taranis, curious about the answer he will give. Regardless, she sheathes her weapon.
To the others she says, "Looks like we might not be fighting after all. Desna smiles."
Bytor Sniegsun |
Bytor stands and moves beside Tess and whispers to her, ”I told you these gentlemen are impressive. Taranis is one of the most skilled diplomats I’ve ever met.”
Taranis Redleaf |
"Well met Eumelia Windrunner. I wish that I knew the true tale of the massacre. A settlement to the east of us, called Varnhold after their founder, went silent. We travelled there to find the issue only to find the settlement strangely abandoned. The fort in their town was taken over by spriggans, though I do not think they are the ultimate cause. There was no hint or evidence to explain the vanishing. We have traveled to your land hoping for answers. This bow, that you call Skybolt was found there. I'm sorry to say that's all I know."
Augrym Ko’Charr |
Note to the GM: Tess is like Raen in that she only needs 2 hours of rest due to a ring of sustenance she wears.
"I'm guessing you weren't counting on company," Tessaria says, drawing her sword. "Are we letting them come, or should we take this opportunity to hide and let them pass?"
Casting Keep Watch each night, Augrym takes his watch duties very seriously as he has the lives of the Huntsmen in his hands. Seeing the newest Huntsperson awake during his watch is surprising but not unwelcome. But Tessaria does notice a distinct difference between daytime Augrym and his nighttime persona. He does his best to scan the area moving silently and diligently around the campground. If she Detects Magic, it is not hard to determine the magics of staying awake. If she engages in discussion, he is not dismissive but does not engage. He nods along while continuing to gaze around the area, not unlike 90% of husbands do with their wives.
Augrym Ko’Charr |
** spoiler omitted **
Turning to the group…
”Good leader brother friend Taranis speaks the tongue of these horse women. The Huntspeople are blessed to have such a great leader. I know not what he is saying but I sure that my brother speaks wise and true words.”Augrym then turns his gaze on the centaurs trying to discern their reaction to Taranis.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (16) + 17 = 33
”Good leader brother friend Taranis, would you like me to detect this group for any evil presence.”
Augrym will also convey the results of his Sense Motice to Taranis with his question above.
Augrym Ko’Charr |
After conveying the newly found information to Taranis, he turns back to Bytor and Tessaria.
”Would either of my new magical friends have the ability to get rid of this affliction I have?”
Augrym describes his symptoms that you bother easily discern as 1 Negative Level.
Tessaria Moondown |
Tessaria watches Augrym for a bit during his nightly watch, but quickly determines that the man is focused on his task and leaves him be. Through part of the night he does see Tessaria consult a thick tome that she retrieves from her backpack.
-----------------------
"Would either of my new magical friends have the ability to get rid of this affliction I have?”
"I cannot. It sounds like you need the services of a high priest. Not simple, but one that could be found in a larger settlement. If Varnhold hadn't been empty..."
Marc Jorstad |
After conveying the newly found information to Taranis, he turns back to Bytor and Tessaria.
”Would either of my new magical friends have the ability to get rid of this affliction I have?”
Augrym describes his symptoms that you bother easily discern as 1 Negative Level.
" I will need a scroll and some reagent from the temple, then we can take care of this for you."
GMTrex |
The centaurs exchange concerned glances at Taranis's words, and several bristle visibly as Augrym speaks of searching for evil in their hearts. The warband leader speaks again to Taranis.
"Abandoned? That is welcome news and ill news at once. Come, you must speak with our leader, Priestess Silverfire. Her camp is some ways to the southwest. We shall guide you. She must hear your tale, and you may present Skybolt to her there." She glances at Augrym. "And your companion should look elsewhere for evil hearts. He will find none here. You may tell your companion that you are safe in our charge, so long as you commit no crime."
Though he cannot understand the words, Augrym senses nothing untoward in the centaurs' posture and tone, aside from a general distrust and unfriendliness.
Tessaria Moondown |
Tessaria chuckles, then shakes her head. "They're centaurs, Augrym. If you're looking for evil, look elsewhere. More likely you'll find it in the hearts of men, a thing it seems they know well."
Taranis Redleaf |
"Priestess Silverfire then. Thank you for your hospitality. I am new to the ways of centaurs, so if my behavior offends, I apologize and will endeavor to do better."
Once the tense discussion is over, Taranis recounts everything said in Sylvan to his comrades.
He then preps to move.
Marc Jorstad |
Marc has no idea what to make of this information
"I thought the bow was left in some sort of raiding party. but it seems it was a prize of battle."
"what makes this bow so special, Taranis, can you ask?"
Taranis Redleaf |
"It's potently magical, and the design of the exquisite bow is centaur craftmanship, and likely of a legendary make given its quality. I don't know it's story, but I think we may find out."
GMTrex |
The centaurs lead you southwest, setting a quick pace and appearing visibly impatient at your slower gaits. The hours grow long, and weariness settles into your bones. The sun sets, and still the centaurs press on. It is well after dark that you at last come upon the Nomen encampment. The camp itself sits in a low hillock surrounded by a sea of grass. A large bonfire dominates the center of the camp, around which more of the horsewomen dance in a primal rhythm long lost to the civilized soul. A scattering of open-sided hide huts, numbering no more than five score, are ranged around the hollow, inside which other centaurs congregate, eat, or sleep. Everywhere, heavily armed and armored centaurs sharpen weapons, tend to gear, or walk patrols, all with a feral economy of movement and sound. These are the true inheritors of an age long gone when the steppes rang to the thunder of their herds and the fury of their war cries, while the first inklings of civilization clung to shorelines and riverbanks like children to their mothers’ skirts, afraid of the dark wilderness and its wild masters.
Eumelia and your other centaur escorts lead you to the center of the camp, to a large hut that opens onto the central bonfire. Many eyes and hooves follow you as you pass, some curious and others suspicious, but none bar your way. Eumelia stops as you reach the tent, and waits silently.
There, a horsewoman with long, flowing red locks presides over the nightly ritual. Her back to you, she addresses the gathered dancers around the fire, offering absolutions and prayers to Mother Moon in a mix of Sylvan and Druidic that even Taranis struggles to follow.
At length, the dance concludes, the priestess's chanting ends, and she turns to face you at last. Eumelia addresses her.
The priestess does not stir at these words, but instead looks to you. Eumelia says simply, "Speak."
Taranis Redleaf |
Taranis recounts the tale of Varnhold, from the rumblings of problems, to our discovery of the abandoned town and the squatters. He goes into detail about the assault on the fort and the clearing of the town. Finally he speaks of finding the bow as well as the scant clues the party found. Not really trying to Make an Impression, just accurately recount the facts.
Augrym Ko’Charr |
Taranis is not trying to make an impression, but Augrym recognize's storytime when he sees it and takes a squat leaning forward with his chin resting on his hands, eyes wide the whole time. He knows Taranis can't talk for longer than 30 seconds on something without some gravitas, and he loves him some gravitas.
"It sounds like these centaurs are always good and noble people, according to new magical friend Tessaria. As an honorary Varnhold (Augrym puts his hand on his new sword hilt), I think we should right this wrong and I am in agreement on giving the bow. Especially because it is not my sword."
Tessaria Moondown |
"I think 'misunderstood' would be the best word to describe centaurs. They've been around a lot longer than humans, and have had their land slowly taken away from them over the generations," Tessaria replies to Augrym. "And besides, none of you appear to be archers, so it's no real loss giving their bow back to their people. It's the least you can do."
She turns her attention to the centaurs, speaking in Sylvan.
Unrak "Dreadful Bear" Redleaf |
Unrak usually defers to his brother on these types of exchanges, but he decides to chime in a bit.
All we want is to find the innocents, and save whom we can. This... here he gestures with one hand to the great bow ...is proof of our good faith. If you know anything, help us.
Please.
Bytor Sniegsun |
Bytor who has remained quiet up to this point, steps forward and introduces himself.
GMTrex |
Aecora is quiet and solemn during the Baron's tale, and many of the gathered centaurs creep closer to hear his words. Aecora takes the offered bow with grace, and straps it to her side before speaking, again in Sylvan.
For completing this secret quest, each hero earns 800 XP.
"Well met, Taranis Redleaf and friends. Our war parties have clashed often with the Varnlings, yet your tale of their vanishing does not fill me with joy. I was not aware that those hated thieves, the Culcheck tribe, had made Varnhold their dwelling, but I do not think them capable of seizing the settlement by force -- at least not on their own."
"It is well that you have slain the Culchecks, and returned Skybolt to us. You are unlike the other two-legged strangers who have come to our lands of late, and unlike the armies that have long encroached on our sacred roaming grounds from the west and south, stretching back generations to the armies of men and horses that we have long since beaten back."
"I am afraid I know not of Evril Pendrod, nor his comings and goings, Bytor son of Snieg." she says to Bytor. Turning again to Taranis, she asks, "Tell me again what you found in Varnhold, and I may offer what counsel I can."
I need to know specifics with respect to:
...as well as the scant clues the party found.
Taranis Redleaf |
"Evril kept a journal. We wouldn't have taken it, but for the mystery at hand. In it he makes mention of a few things. Does the name Vordakai mean anything to you? Or perhaps a bracelet or even the name Willas Gunderson? Beyond this and the spriggan corpses. I fear we know little."
GMTrex |
A murmur runs through the crowd at the mention of "Vordakai," and Aecora grows even more solemn than before. After a long silence, she speaks. "The name Vordakai is... not unknown to us. The name belongs to a slumbering warlord from the time of the mother tribes. I am afraid that I cannot say much more; our priestesses have lost many histories since the days when the men of Taldor scattered us."
She is silent again for several long moments. "There is a place you might go. Yet I fear it may be your doom, should you travel there. We call it 'Olah-Kakanket' -- the Valley of the Dead, in your tongue. We are forbidden to walk there, but our most sacred tradition is our vigilant watch for disturbances or strange awakenings among its stones. One of our huntresses claimed to have seen a frightful shape lumbering through Olah-Kakanket some months ago. Perhaps the Varnlings, in their insatiable expansion and curiosity, disturbed some evil that would have been better left to sleep -- and now they have paid the price."
Taranis Redleaf |
"Thank you, and I apologize for such grim tidings. Can you show me on this map the area of which you speak?"
GMTrex |
Bytor tries to recall some history of this valley of the dead.
Bytor has never heard of such a place. DCs start at 40.
Aecora shakes her head at Taranis. "I know not your ways of painting on sheepskin. I know only where I may run under the great blue sky, and my only map is the stars of Mother Moon. But I may tell you where to go: Olah-Kakanket lies that way." She points to the south. "Travel for a day and you will meet a spur of the mountains, and towards the setting sun you will find a vale cradled by the arms of the mountains. In the foothills at the end of that vale you will find Olah-Kakanket."
There is a pause. "The name you speak of is given to a narrow trail that leads up into the mountains, from the far end of Olah-Kakanket. Our elders say that on that trail you will find the sleeping warlord's tomb."
Taranis Redleaf |
"You have been generous with your words and hospitality. Is there anything you would ask of us before we journey to the forbidden lands? And if I may be so bold, may we return here if in need of succor?"
GMTrex |
Aecora eyes Taranis and shifts uncomfortably. "There is, yes... The huntress I spoke of, who claimed to see a strange shape wandering within Olah-Kakanket, is..."
She trails off for a moment, her voice thick with shame. "Is none other than my headstrong daughter, Xamanthe. I reminded her that the Nomen are forbidden in Olah-Kakanket, but I fear that she has decided otherwise. She has been missing for over a week now. If you must walk there, I would be grateful for any news of Xamanthe that you could share."
Glancing around at the gathered centaurs, the war-priestess straightens and stands tall. "And now, I ask that you take your leave. The presence of two-leggers makes our tribe uncomfortable, and nervous. I am heartened by your words and deeds -- but this is only a first meeting, and we have been betrayed before."
Taranis Redleaf |
"My associate Marc speaks true. You're right to distrust the race of Men. We shall take our leave, and will return with word as soon as we can."
GMTrex |
The sun long ago set on [color=teal]19th Neth[/color]. Whither do you go, and do you make camp or proceed on with a night march?
Taranis Redleaf |
GM I'm worried about the rule on getting back in time for Kingdom duties. The more expansive our ranging, the harder this will be until we can magically travel.
"Let's rest up and strike out first thing. Come, let's make camp on their outskirts as to not overstay any longer."
GMTrex |
"Rule" is a bit strict, more like a guideline. Being a day or two late probably will not hurt, but being a few months late would be a big problem.
You trek some respectful distance away before making your camp and catch a few hours of fitful sleep. The wind out of the southwest seems to howl over the plains like an endless series of pained cries. The sun offers little warmth in the morning on [color=teal]20th Neth[/color].
Where to?