It is the fourth of Arodus, and Summer is on the wane. Slowly, but surely, the nights grow longer, and it feels as though the change to the fall months could be around the corner at any moment. The joy of Archerfeast, now a month past, was quickly overshadowed by more disturbing news from the trade caravans: goblin attacks, up and down the highway. It would appear as though the thorough thrashing they received a few years ago has been healed, and their "usual" chaos has a new edge. Caravaners describe the attacks containing bombardment by fireworks, many of a similar type to those used in the Swallowtail festival. The damage done by panicking horses is nearly as much as that done by the goblins themselves.
After a few reports of such news (the last of which involved serious injury to three caravaners) you are not surprised to see that Sheriff Balor has reposted the old bounty on Goblin ears: ten Celaxian gold sails for each ear, and three-hundred for the head of the Licktoad Tribe's chief, Gutwad, known to lead the Licktoad's from Brinestump Marsh. The number of adventurers in town has receded significantly since the troubles, and those who do stop by seem to have more interest in the recently uncovered Xin-Shalast than chasing down goblins in the dank, fetid, and downright spooky swamps southwest of town.
Sandru approaches you, Caiden, one night in the Rusty Dragon and claps you on the shoulder. "Well, my boy, this looks perfect! Well, here is a chance to not only quench your thirst for adventure, but will help in your profession as well - protect the town you've always loved, and protecting this caravaner's hide and haul! Hahahahahahahaha!" The burly Varisian gives a deep belly laugh that dies off when he sees you enter, Zelaria. "And what of you, dear sister? Has mother given you leave to figure out a way to repay me? Perhaps now we shall see if those fearsome markings are worth their surface area in silver and gold!"
Ameiko, behind the bar, simply chuckles and continue to pour drinks for the few regulars in the tavern that evening. "Oh, do encourage them, Sandru! It has been an age it seems since the last good tale walked through those doors! Oh, and if for some reason you are interested," she casually tosses each of you a look, "Father Zantus has a young acolyte of Erastil that is itching to get out of doors to 'aid the community,' and if I read Zantus right, he's ready for her to be out and about. Her name is Kharia, and you'll find her in the temple yard, more often than not." After serving a few more drinks, she also pipes up, "There are a few others in the area that might also be interested. Let me know if you are looking for any others!"
The burly Varisian gives a deep belly laugh that dies off when he sees you enter, Zelaria. "And what of you, dear sister? Has mother given you leave to figure out a way to repay me? Perhaps now we shall see if those fearsome markings are worth their surface area in silver and gold!"
Zelaria cannot be seen to flush under the particular attention Sandru pays her, or his insinuation concerning the expanse of her tattoo. I am not the little girl your teasing set to color, sweet brother, she muses, but when she takes a graceful step, she appears to be wholly unaffected by the comment. In truth as punishment Koya refused to treat the raw, quickened ache that consumed Zelaria's skin,and worse, chastened her by raining light blows on her body to remind her of her wickedness.
"She might at that, my sweet brother," Zelaria answers, "for she, and thusly Desna are wroth with my thieving ways," Mother named me Sczarni!
"Should it amuse you, Mistress Amekio, I've a tale worth hearing, if I may be so bold," Zelaria's violet eyes flash as she nears Sandru and his companion, whom she gives a protracted amount of study before continuing, "As of yet, it does not feature goblin slaying, though that may be as foolish and brazenly courageous deed to elevate one to hero status," and myself as something more of an equal.
Zelaria smiles sweetly at her brother's companion. "A confederate, Sandru?" she hums. "Pray, pardon our seeming lack of civility if I do not offer my hand, friend of my brother. I am Zelaria. What, other than 'boy,' may I call you so that we might be introduced properly?"
Caiden stands, bowing deeply at the waist. "A pleasure to meet you, I am Caiden Farasi. You say you have a tale worth hearing?" He indicates a seat and returns to his own once she sits down.
"A tale, indeed. About a great fool of a girl, a beautiful princess in disguise, forced to scrub pots and floors for a cruel task master," Zelaria's eyes flit to her brother and her teeth seem to bear down and grind against each other when she sits, as though she is in some amount of pain. "Not the manner of tale that would amuse an outrider, perhaps. Yet..."
Zelaria smiles suggestively. "As my sweet brother has said, I owe a fair deal of coin, but the sea is not my primary motivation." Zelaria slowly leans back in her chair, placing her upper back carefully against its support. "Plundered caravans are not measured solely in the weight of trade goods, employees and investment lost, but... children, families, and access to information and our culture." Zelaria's voice seems to falter after her brief pause.
"Forgive me, I do notice that you have traveled hard recently. What manner of tale would you like to hear?"
"It's been a hard month, I've been back and forth to Magnimar twice carrying messages for Sheriff Balor. I've spoken with some caravans on my way back and forth, they say the Goblins have become more aggressive. It worries me." He takes a deep drink from his glass.
"I'd love to hear a tale which ends with a safer town, and safer roads for the people who ply them."
Zelaria smiles as Caiden recounts his trips to Magnimar. She herself has not been to the city in quite some time, since she completed her apprenticeship almost a year ago, now. The time that had elapsed between then and now had been aimless, wearing on Koya's charity and Sandru's last nerve as she waited for Desna to send her a sign.
Perhaps, this is my opportunity?
"As would I, Caiden. And no song of heroism would be finer than those sung by the beautiful mistress Ameiko herself, is that not correct, my sweet brother?" she says her eyes flashing again.
She wets her lips with a dart of her tongue and considers Caiden for a moment. "Do you believe we should seek out this priestess of Erastil, and carve a name for ourselves?"
Caiden pauses to consider Zelaria's question for a moment. Working for the sheriff had been interesting, but he could not resist the potential for even greater adventure.
"I think that is an excellent idea, shall we?"
"That is a very fine animal you have, Caiden," Zelaria remarks when they step outside. Tentatively, carefully, she reaches out and strokes its mane. It appears as though she is only vaguely familiar with horses. She glances under its flank to determine its sex. "What is his name?"
Zelaria waits for an answer, then steps in beside Caiden on their sojourn to the temple. "How long have you known my brother?" she asks while they walk. "Pray, pardon if the question offends, but it appeared as though you were familiar."
"His name is Rutherford, and he is the finest horse I have ever met"
Caiden looks up at Rutherford happily, and busies himself adjusting his tack while they walk.
"It doesn't offend at all, Sandru hired my on as a caravan guard a couple years back. Your brother has taught me much about they trade ever since, he's a good man and a friend."
Caiden glances up from the horse at Zelaria. "So you're Koya's daughter? I have not seen you around town much before."
"Ah, yes... Koya... is responsible for me, I suppose you could say," Zelaria answers, her words dancing around the word 'mother' in this context. "As close to a mother as one might ever hope to have. And no, I have not been in town much until recently. I was studying in Maginmar, and returned home about a year ago, now?" Zelaria's voice sounds uncertain.
"I have not been very active since, it is true," she admits. "As you might imagine, it is difficult to find employment with caravans when your brother is so well known. I fell into a state of apathy, waited and prayed for Desna to show me a vision of how to proceed.
"I have been assisting Koya about the house since our grandmother died. Or, that is the excuse I have given, that she is getting older and requires my help," Zelaria regards Caiden with curiosity in her violet eyes. "Have you been looking for me?" she teases.
Caiden looks embarassed for a moment, "Uh... well... I barely knew you existed before now..."
He quickly backtracks before he sticks his foot in his mouth, "So do you know anything of this Acolyte?"
Zelaria laughs and it is a happy, and genuinely amused sound. "Forgive me, Caiden. I am, at times, a relentless tease. To answer your question, no I know nothing of this acolyte, but I anticipate meeting her."
((I'm fine with editing out BBC code. I usually post through my iPad, and it's tough without the physical keyboard. Feel free to use two parenthetical marks to represent OOC comments. I should be able to track your conversation easily enough without bolding or other things. For internal thoughts, italics are fine. Though if you'd rather reserve internal thoughts for a campaign journal, you are welcome to do so.))
"Bwah!" Sandru barks a laugh, though not cruelly. "Ameiko's songs are rarely new to my ears of late," he jests at the barkeep with a broad wink. "But 'tis true that few are finer."
As you make plans to head out, Ameiko calls out over the din of the tavern, "Good fortune! When you have made your plan and gathered your supplies, stop back in before you depart tomorrow morning. I may be able to dig up something to help you."
---
You proceed to Sandpoint Cathedral, the pantheistic temple to Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Sarenrae, and Shelyn. Father Zantus has done a fine job of keeping the relatively new structure in order, particularly after recovering from the troubles. You have each met the four acolytes who live there regularly with Father Zantus: Horbah and Ubren (Desna), Sidrus(Abadar), and Illea (Shelyn). The new acolyte, Kharia, must have arrived only recently.
You find her in one of the side yards of the temple, and even in the waning twilight, you see her line up her longbow, taking shot after shot at a series of targets at the other end of the yard. She is a tall, willowy woman of Ulfen descent, with pale blond hair kept up under a yellow scarf. She is intently focused on her work, and only when her quiver is spent does she turn to acknowledge you, and you see the holy symbol of Erastil fashioned to be the clasp of her green half-cloak. "Good eve, and well met. Have you need of the Cathedral's services this evening?"
"Good eve, Lady," Zelaria replies, smile light and natural. "I am Zelaria, ward of Koya Mvashti, and this is my companion Caiden Farasi," she introduces.
"We've not so much a need for the cathedral's services as for yours, Kharia. We have seen that you are a prodigious target archer. Care to try your luck and your hand at foes that threaten this community? We could make use of your skills in our endeavor to thin the goblin scourge preying upon travelers. Have you any interest in joining us?"
"Yes, the caravan and traveler attacks? I had heard of them from some of the recent arrivals." She turns and walks towards the targets, and if you follow closely, you see that she has hit the inner targets and bullseye as often as not. She frowns, pulls out each arrow and inspects it closely before returning the whole ones to her quiver and setting the disabled ones aside. "I have come here to pledge myself to this community, for they have no one else of the faith that provides for them. Though I am not of this community, I offer my life in it's service. Are you similarly committed? Or simply mercenaries, profiting off the need of these people? Ill come to you, if so." She looks intently at each of your faces.
Zelaria colors with indignation at the suggestion that she might be a mercenary.
"I am devoted to Desna, She who protects and guides travelers," Zelaria answers, her voice quick with tension and defense.
Zelaria pauses and sighs, and allows that defense to wane before she continues. "Pray, pardon me, Sister. I took offense where none was intended.
"I cannot speak for my companion, but it is my wish to protect the people of the caravans. My own," Zelaria's voice breaks, recalling the deaths of her family, and then wets her mouth and lips with a clumsy tongue before continuing. "It is true that my family is heavily invested in caravan trade, and does not profit from unrest, but then, neither does this community. The caravans are a vital source of goods, but the rate of exchange is not simply monetary. The wanderers perform their dances and tell their tales, and to any who would observe and listen improve our knowledge of our culture-"
Zelaria recognizes that her answer is long winded, and more likely to confuse, and arrests herself, then smiles broadly. "I am committed to protecting them who contribute to this community, even if they live apart from us. My people are travelers, and these attacks against them stir my heart to action before any other concern."
She can certainly shoot.
The fiery words from the priest bring back memories, memories of friends and fellow caravan guards who never returned home. Of people he'd met through Sandru; Good people who would never see their families again. Caiden was interested in excitement, in glory, but he would also see those people avenged.
"You have my assurances good priest, I am no mercenary. These goblins have brought too much suffering to these people, my people, for too long. I would see them stopped."
Kharia nods solemnly at each of your responses. "This is good. I do not wish to heap further misery upon old or recent wounds. Though I am new to the area, this is my community as well, and I do not wish any to prey upon it." She bends low and gathers the pile of broken arrows in her arms. "Sleep well this night. I will give you aid. Have you an idea of where we might begin looking after these goblins? Fr. Zantus has supplied some information for me on the local groups, but my guess is that this is not his fullest concern. We should leave first thing in the morning. I will prepare my supplies this night, and will meet you here at the morning bell."
She takes the arrows over closer to the light and, bending low, begins a low chant over them while holding her holy symbol. If you remain for the full casting, about ten minutes, you see the six splintered arrows slowly reform whole. When complete, she reverently replaces them in her quiver and bids you a good evening, returning to the acolyte's quarters of the cathedral.
"Efficient," Zelaria hums happily, and looks to her companion after the priestess has gone. "Not exceedingly sociable however," she adds and smiles a somewhat sheepish smile, "however, she did raise a point which seemed to escape us both - our lack of reliable information as to how we are to achieve our goal.
"More than that," she continues, and then arrests herself and laughs. "I believe that we can stand to introduce each other a little better, as well, if we are to travel together. I know of no better place to achieve both ends than at Ameiko's."
Caiden chuckles, "Not all of us can be the social butterfly you are, Zelaria. You raise a good point though, we need more information. Ameiko's sounds like an excellent idea."
(( At some point, Caiden will slip away to gather some supplies. Specifically: 2 weeks of trail rations, 4 waterskins, 50' of hemp rope, a bedroll, common blanket, Flint and Steel, 4 torches, a whetstone, string/twine, and three days of fodder for Rutherford. Let me know if any of it is unavailable and I'll add the rest to his sheet.))
"Ah! Indeed!" Zelaria practically sings, and shifts so that she is walking backwards, regarding Caiden and Rutherford with a smile. "I, in keeping with my Lady Desna and her swallowtails, flit so delicately from topic to subject with such grace!"
As if on cue, Zelaria stumbles and laughs as she falls back in step with beside Caiden. "Or am I merely a caterpillar who is afforded visions of having wings? That is the question, isn't it?" Zelaria teases.
"Ah, I feel as though I have emerged from a chrysalis, however. It is good to stretch one's wings!"
((Just recognized that I haven't actually bought gear for Zelaria, either... Will get that up sometime tonight. Forgive my grievous oversight.))
((Caiden: Sounds good. How will you transport Rutherford's fodder? I interpret this to be three or four bales of hay, not the easiest load to transport. There are ways of foraging for feed in the wild if you like. Some animals are a little less discerning in their tastes.
Zelaria: No worries. I always assume that starting equipment is based on what the PC has picked up between birth and the start of their career. Actually, both of you can feel free to makke "getting equipment" a post about going home and packing your bags. Do your characters have attachments or history with specific items? In another game, a PC has a pretty firm description and attach,net to a family heirloom sword. I've found attaching names o items helps me remember what I'm carrying. So, LSS, feel free to roll that however you like. Maybe Zoya will have a few choice words for you on what you take with you.))
When you return to the Rusty Dragon, you see a familiar form lounging against the bar: Shalelu Androsana, self-assumed protector of Sandpoint, sipping a glass of wine and sharing a close conversation with Ameiko over a piece of parchment. "Ah, and here they are now!" Ameiko calls out upon seeing the two of you enter. "Surely at some point you have met each; Caiden assists Balor with various duties, and Zelaria is a ward of old Zoya's. Shalelu has just returned to town this evening from her recent trips into the hinterlands. Can I expect from your expressions that you succeeded in recruiting the earnest Kharia into your venture?"
After agreeing to meet Caiden at the Rusty Dragon, Zelaria excuses herself and returns to Koya's home to retrieve her things. In one corner of her room, untouched since she arrived, her pack rests. The hulking mass and tangle of straps, supports and comfortable padding had been constructed specifically to fit Zelaria's delicate frame in such a way that it allowed her to carry more weight in it than her lack of strength would ordinarily permit. Sandru had taken her to the tailor responsible for its construction the day after she first arrived in Magnimar and observed and kept her company while she was measured for the contraption. He reasoned that her interests and studies would require that she read many books, and teased that carrying them all in her arms would cause her back to stoop prematurely, and give the impression that she was an old maid well before her time.
"Besides," he continued, then laughed, "it's far past time you learned to carry your own weight, Sister."
Behind the truly massive pack Zelaria had placed her quarterstaff in such a way that it leaned and was nestled in the corner of the wall. Even among her peers she had been an absolutely miserable combatant, and though she preferred the advantage of reach the spear gave her when she placed it in her hands, using it set her off balance more often than not. The staff had been a compromise, one which, her more academic minded friends chattered, would become much more relevant when they ascended into near divinity as they attained more and greater magics. Zelaria named hers the Rod of wonder facetiously, for how momentous an occasion it was when she landed a hit in practice in the yard. The poor battered thing had taken more hits than it had dealt, but lent to a certain type of charm harkening back to fond memories of her childhood.
Shirking the staff for a moment, Zelaria gathers the pack her and begins examining its contents. Her traveling clothes, wineskin and blanket are neatly folded within, and when she shakes out her bedroll it is free of any pests. The wine skin she takes to the cistern Koya keeps for drinking water and slowly fills the skin halfway and suspends it above her for a time, checking for any leaks. While waiting, the scents of food wafting from the kitchen cause Zelaria's stomach to growl and she recalls that she will have to stop by the general store and procure a number of days of trail rations. Almost a weeks worth should suffice, she muses and hums, then finding the wineskin's integrity sufficient, sloshes the water about some to rinse it out, and then pours the contents out over Niska's favorite flowers in the garden.
Grandmother, Zelaria prays while she pulls a few dead leaves and bulbs from the stalks of the plants, I have received Her blessing, and will be traveling once more.
...
Zelaria feels somewhat abashed for bringing a sack of trail rations with her on her sojourn to the Rusty Dragon, but not knowing how long she would be occupied there, she thought it would be prudent to do her shopping before socializing, as she did not expect that Kharia would be very forgiving if she and Caiden arrived late.
She greets her new companion with a broad smile and a little wave as they near the Dragon, and asks that he waits so that they can enter together, on some level, fearing garnering Sandru's special attentions once again.
"Good evening, Mistress," Zelaria calls to Ameiko, "and yes, we were interviewed by the priestess and she has agreed to join us," she answers and laughs happily. Zelaria crosses the tavern and approaches the pair of adventurers cautiously. "Well met, Shalelu. Are you discussing a map of your rangings? Have you any information about the goblin tribes that have been attacking our travelers?"
After parting ways with Zelaria with a nod and a smile, Caiden proceeds to gather the necessary supplies to accomplish his quest. Ever since he began his work for Balor, and later Sandru, Caiden has always kept to the firm practice of packing light and never owning so much as to tie him down in one place and as such had much to buy.
After making his purchases, he proceeds to the local militia stables where he rents a stall for Rutherford. As Caiden leads his horse in he greets his friends and compatriots, may of whom he has not seen for weeks due to his travels on behalf of Balor.
He waves off the stableboy as he starts unbuckling Rutherfords saddle and bridle; this is a job he always does himself. He works slowly, soothing the great beast as he combs and brushes his coat out with a stiff curry comb, then finishes with a soft bristle brush. With his coat in good order, Caiden ensures his mount has a good supply of fresh, clean water and his own personal mixture of sweet feed and hay. While Rutherford tucks in to his dinner, Caiden checks that his health is in good order. He starts by inspecting his legs, making sure there is no sign of lameness or muscle strain. He then moves on to his hooves, picking any stones and debris out of them. As Caiden leaves the stall he slips Rutherford his favourite treat, a shiny red apple.
Caiden's apartment is tiny and spartan. Barely more than a bed and a door this space serves mostly as a place to hold his meagre belongings and a spot to rest his head on the rare occasion he's in town. His armor sits in the corner, a battered suit of scale mail that has been lovingly polished and cared for since the day it fell into his possession. Propped up in the corner beside it is Caiden's pride and joy, his shield. He can still remember the day his father game him heavy steel shield emblazoned with a roaring red dragon, the day he left his family home to join the militia. The words he said hang in the back of his head:
"I'da given you a sword, son, but your mother woulda cried her eyes out. Take this instead, and know that you're always in our prayers. I hope it keeps you safe, and you can use it to keep safe those you care about."
Behind the shield leans a sturdy longsword and lance, serviceable weapons which he was issued on his induction into the militia. As Caiden sits down to while away the time, he applies whetstone to blade and reflects on his day.
--
Caiden spots Zelaria as she approaches the inn and can't help but crack a grin. "You know, last I checked they serve food at the dragon. I mean, nothing quite so fancy as trail rations, but I figure it should do!"
Caiden strolls up to Shalelu and Ameiko and greet them with an easy smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you again ma'am. I don't believe we have been formerly introduced. I am Caiden Farasi, and words cannot express how much I and my friends in the militia appreciate the assistance you render to the town. Is there any information you can give us about the recent crop of goblin activity?"
((Weynolt, the fodder I'm going for here is a sack of sweet feed to supplement his grazing. He would require about 2 cups twice a day in addition to his usual nightly graze. That should require a minimal weight use for several days worth, and is used more as a supplement than a sole source of food.
In addition to that, he will be picking up a good half dozen or so apples. He likes to spoil Rutherford, as well as any other horses or animals he may meet.))
((Sounds good for equipment, and thanks for the fodder clarification. Too many summers of hauling hay bales for cattle, I guess.))
Shalelu looks at each of you in turn with a rather penetrating stare, as though taking in as much about you as possible in the first look. "Well me to you both," she replies with a businesslike nod, and as she does so she slides the piece of parchment down the bar in your direction. "I have spoken with Ameiko, and if I may, I recommend that you make your way to Brinestump Marsh. There is where the Licktoad tribe lives. Not particularly unique among the goblin tribes, but it would appear that many of the attacks happen on the outskirts of that dismal place, and they are the most likely culprits. It is tough going in those bogs, but there are trails to be used. I would stick to those, but keep your eyes peeled for traps left by the goblins - they are the primary users of the trails." She indicates a mark on the western edge of the Marsh. "Here lives Walthus Proudstump, warden of the marsh and a good friend. I would seek his council first before venturing too deep into the thick of the swamp. You have a mount, Caiden, and he should fare passably well. Zelaria, you may wish to see of you can procure something a bit more sure footed, a donkey or mule perhaps. Daviren Hosk over at the stables may have something you can use. I recommended that your other companion do the same. Let him know that you are hunting goblins, and he is likely to give you a discount."
As the morning bell from the cathedral chimes, Kharia walks in through the door. "Excellent! You are both ready. I assume Shalelu has filled you in on her recommendations? My thanks for your recommendation on the mount, Shalelu. Stableman Hosk was only too pleased to provide me with a pack mule for my supplies. Are w prepared to depart?"
Shalelu nods in acknowledgment. "The northern edge of Brinestump is perhaps four miles from here, down the lost coast road, but the going will be slower once you enter the swamp. You could well reach Walthus by evening, and his house, such as it is, would be a floor to have beneath you than the swamp ground. One word of caution: he prefers the company of snakes. Try not to accidentally step on any of his pets." She once more gives each of you a look with her penetrating stare, her too-large green irises twitching ever so slightly in their sockets. "Is there any further assistance I can offer?"
((Aah, I assumed we were meeting again in the evening. My mistake. Zelaria's complete kit will be in her possession at present.))
Zelaria's tattooed hand rests on the head of her staff, and the other clutches it about midway, offering her support as she leans in and studies the map. She grimaces at Shalelu's suggestion that she ride a mule, in her experience the creatures were quite filthy, with none of the grace or charm of Caiden's Rutherford, but as she had no talent for riding, she deferred to Shalelu's superior judgment.
"It seems that I must secure a mount for myself," Zelaria answers Kharia's inquiry, "a saddle, and feed..." she hums. At this rate of expenditures, I must needs slay these goblin beasts myself to settle my debt.
Zelaria meets Shalelu's eyes, not daunted by her inherent otherness. Shalelu was an elf, a traveler, and also favored of Desna, Zelaria had no reason to demur in the heroine's presence. "That depends upon your definition, Shalelu. You are familiar with the area, what other hazards besides goblins, their traps and Master Proudstump's menagerie might we encounter? Are there any venomous creatures or large predators that may find our mounts a tasty snack? What condition were these bridges in when last you visited? Are they large enough to ride across, or will we have to lead our mounts?"
Caiden is set back by the intensity of Shalelu's gaze, but recovers quickly enough. "I have not encountered the Licktoad tribe before, do you know anything of their numbers or any allies they may have? I look forward to meeting Warden Proudstump."
--
"Well met Karia, that's a fine mule you've got, Hosk knows his trade. I believe I am ready to depart, though the risk of ambush is a bit high for my liking. We must proceed with as much caution as we can."
Shalelu shrugs. "The mule is more if you would prefer not to get your feet so muddy. If you have no concern for this, I cannot force you. Perhaps go first, fetch a few ears, then return and use them to purchase a mount. Perhaps Hosk would have an older animal he would not be sad to lose, should the goblins have their way with it."
"The Soggy River Monster was seen again," Ameiko pipes up, "this time by a fisherman on the north Fish Trail. He said it stood taller than a man, had white skin, and had a mouth that opened up all the way down its neck. It was eating what looked like a goblin on the far side of the river, which is why the farmer managed to escape. The stories about this beast have been around for a time, perhaps since... Hmmm.... The last set of Troubles? I have not seen it, but then I do not often venture into Brinestump.
"Old Megus, the swamp witch, is somewhere out there, too. She hasn't been seen for some time, but then she only rarely came in to Sandpoint for the occasional supply she couldn't get from the swamp. Rumors have always been about, but story goes she was always trying to get things to change from one thing to another: plants, animals, people. Blech!"
"Other than the odd giant leech or some variety of snake, it is a swamp," Shalelu calmly states. "Anything that loves the damp and wet might live there, so you should have little fear of terribly large predators. The bridges are serviceable, but use caution on them. Lead your mount carefully, Caiden.
"The Licktoads are not so remarkable among the goblins - nasty, brutish, short. What else is there to know? They are the smallest of the local goblin tribes, perhaps a few dozen, and do not often try their hand at raiding from settlements, travelers, or caravans, but their recent acquisition of fireworks has emboldened them. Walthus should be able to tell you more."
---
Kharia nods in swift agreement. "If we are prepared, it is now full light out. We should be able to reach the edge of the swamp within a couple hours. Let us stop by the stables, if necessary, and be off."
((I assume you can inform me of the damage to Zelaria's purse out of character, and we can progress, unless you believe it would be comical for Zelaria's mule to spit at her or attempt to throw her.))
Zelaria, precariously perched atop a sturdy mule flushes and feels quite the fool doddering after Caiden and his impressive steed. Thus my inaction leads to this, she muses and giggles softly as they plod through the streets of Sandpoint. Mother, you would be so proud of your daughter today, she hums and smiles broadly. "And Grandmother as well," she whispers and laughs again.
She gives Kharia a nod, and gestures to Caiden before speaking loud enough so that he might hear her from astride his noble stallion. "Beg pardon Caiden, but, I dare say that if we are meant to continue traveling like this in the future, I might ask that you instruct us how to ride a horse. As jaunty as this creature is," she pats the mule's neck fondly, "I cannot help but envy your mount."
Zelaria smiles at Kharia. "I mean no disrespect by including you in 'us,' Kharia, as we are, at least for the sake of this mission, companions. What say you? Do you desire to learn to ride a horse as well?"
...
Once out of sight of the city, Zelaria will speak no longer, and having become used to the gate of the mule, will appear as resolute and focused on their goals. If spoken to, she will reply in as slight a voice as reckoned to be heard, but wishes to practice at being quiet so as not to give away their position once they enter the swamps.
Caiden smiles at Zelaria's riding, trying his best to hold back his laughter. "My father always used to say, even a bad ride is better than a good walk. I'm sure I can give you a few pointers. Kharia, if you'd like I can render whatever assistance I can unto you as well."
(( I actually don't know if you can Aid Another with the ride skill, but I will include his rolls for both Zelaria and Kharia, if she consents. The general idea here being to provide them with some basic information to make their journey easier, rather than applying it to a specific situation.))
Zelaria Ride:
Kharia Ride:
--
Caiden will proceed out of the city with his gear stored in his saddlebags. Everything list in his profile is in there. He will be wearing his armor with his shield strapped on and his lance close at hand. Rutherford will be wearing his barding. After they clear the last of the town, he will fall back in to what Sandru taught him about keeping a travelling group safe. He will constantly keep his eyes moving, checking each direction then his companions in turn, making sure no one falls behind or is lost.
((A quick note on skill checks - always feel free to Take 10. In fact, unless you specifically roll, I'm going to assume that you will do so when you are not threatened. As for aid another on ride, not really. I assume that most folks can ride a mount that is willing to be a mount - the DC is 5, and unless you have a Dex of 0, you can always succeed on a take 10. However, you could theoretically use it to try and move a little faster down the road if you succeeded. I'm going to say that 9 and 8
Daviren Hosk is a fun character in my mind, but yes, we can role right past that. Mules are 8 gp each typically, but a few things will bring that price down for you: One, you are Zoya's ward and Sandru's "sister", and he's always considered himself a friend of the family; two, you are going out to kill Goblins; and three, Hosk only rarely gets to speak to attractive women, and as an old bachelor who smells like stable, that's enough to get him to drop the price to 3 gp now, 1 later, a cost easily remedied with a single goblin ear.))
Kharia accepts the pointers silently, but seems to be fine with how she naturally balances and handles her donkey. "No disrespect received. We are comrades joined together to protect Sandpoint, and as such we will fulfill our duty to the town. However, it would appear that Caiden is perhaps more concerned with his proper role, of protecting and keeping watch, than he is at instructing in husbandry." She, too, keeps a keen eye on the Lost Coast Road and the surrounding hills as you depart Sandpoint.
The road south from the town is well traveled, and an easy ride. In a matter of a couple hours ride, you reach the edge of Brinestump Marsh. Even in the hazy morning light of late summer, the gloom and damp of the marsh is apparent as you go from healthy coniferous and deciduous trees to more sickly fare, weighed down by lack of sun and too much muck and mud.
The fishing trail, such as it is, is relatively easy to find with the assistance of the map provided by Shalelu, and on the way into the swamp you see cast aside bits of refuse left by local fisher-folk. The going is slow, perhaps three-fourths of your pace on the road, but after a short time of traversing down the trail, you come to a bridge over a slow moving stream. It appears to be a treacherous affair, with a mossy surface and several missing planks. You listen in the area, but do not hear more than frogs, insects, and the occasional plop of a fish in the stream.
((I need to remember how relatively small the swamp is. I am assuming the marching order of Caiden - Zelaria - Kharia. Who would like to cross the bridge first?))
((I think I would like to meet Daviren Hosk when we get back, as Zelaria is a social creature and a bit of flirting after traveling with the Priestess of Erastil and Sandru's employee would be fun. It's not that I did not want to meet the man, I was more afraid of souring Kharia's attitude by dallying when we have a mission to do.))
Zelaria carefully advances her mule beside Caiden and Rutherford, so that she can speak softly and be heard. "I am not as observant as most, but it does not appear to me that this bridge can support us all. This creature's legs feel sturdy enough, I would try the crossing, and you and Kharia could cover me? She is mighty skilled with a bow, and I should think that Rutherford is fleet enough of foot to make the crossing swiftly," she suggests.
Caiden looks between Zelaria and the bridge uncomfortably, considering his options. "I don't like it, if you cross and they are waiting they could capture you before I have a chance to get to you."
He turns in his saddle and beckons Kharia to lean in closer. "Can you see anything in the trees? I trust your eyes over my own..."
"I would rather lead the way, I would not put either of you in danger over myself. Besides, if the bridge can hold Rutherford, it can hold any mule."
(( Unless anyone makes an objection, Caiden will lead Rutherford over the bridge slowly and carefully, keeping an eye out for trouble and his lance at hand. ))
"Do be careful," Zelaria says softly. "The physical limitations of my spells is far less than Kharia's arrows, and I am not a skilled rider."
((For reference, how wide is the bridge?))
((They are wide enough that a mount can pass alone, ridden or being led, or humans could walk single file, double if they squished in. It is about 20 feet across. ))
"I see and hear nothing yet that should not be here," Kharia calls out softly. "Go carefully."
It takes Caiden a minute or so of careful stepping and maneuvering Rutherford around missing planks, but in moments he is back on the slightly less solid but more earthen ground. The bridge itself is quite solid, and whatever old fishermen put it there must have been engineers in secret.
Each of you crosses the bridge without incident, and your surroundings do not change: the marsh is dank, foggy, and close, and makes little noise. You continue down the path, deeper into the marsh.
((Perception checks:
Caiden
Kharia
Zelaria ))
Caiden, perhaps a thousand feet past the bridge, spy a patch of color about fifteen feet off the trail to your left, a deep crimson red, and many disturbed plants and vegetation around it.
Odd, that such stillness would pervade, Zelaria muses while they ride, looking about her in what she hopes is a controlled and thoughtful manner. She has no talent for ranging, but had expected there would be more life in the swamp. Was it not just on the other side of the bridge that we heard bird calls, and the various songs of the wilds?
((As an intelligent player, I assume marching order would be Caiden, Zelaria and Kharia bringing up the rear with her bow, but will allow Caiden to dictate, as he's the experienced soldier.))
Caiden raises his hand up, signalling the small party to stop. Looking back at Zelaria and Kharia, he raises a finger to his lips then indicates the patch of color.
Speaking softly, Caiden tries to take charge "I'll push forward, take a look, you two stay at the edge of the road. Kharia, cover me with your bow. Zelaria, keep any eye on the far edge of the road, I don't want them sneaking up on us."
Standing up in his stirrups, Caiden scans the vegetation before pushing forward. He keeps his lance in hand and his shield strapped to his arm, guiding Rutherford with his knees and legs.
Zelaria remains still, and alert. As Caiden indicates, she looks about in the swamp to maintain their security.
Perception
Zelaria still does not hear any songs of the wild, however. That I was placed on point was an extremely silly idea, she thinks. But how was I to refuse?
The patch of color turns out to be a mess of bone, muscle, and viscera, the remains of swam animal, now indistinguishable from it's original form. There is no sound near here, barely even the whisper of bug or bird, and the swampy marsh makes locating a trail of that which tore into this animal very difficult.
---
As you come forward, you come to yet another bridge. As before, it looks serviceable, if moss covered and missing planks. You can cross as before, single file, and as earlier, the swamp remains quiet.
You continue in the eerie calm of late morning, though the rising sun has yet to burn off any of the fog consuming the marsh. Another bridge emerges, and once more, no surprises jump out.
Not much further on, just before noon, you arrive at a small, two-story shack. A muddy trail leads up to a swampy lagoon. The open ocean is visible just beyond these shallow waters, while the old two-story building, its walls soggy with moss and its roof sagging with age, sits on the lagoon's eastern shore.
"Might this be Walthus' home?" Kharia asks. "I believe we are in the location Shalelu indicated."
Zelaria has become increasingly wary of the stillness of the swamp as their journey continues, and it shows in the stiff way that she carries herself atop her nimble mule. The cover is so dense that fog does not burn, she notices with a sour frown. If any were to be tracking us through this mire, would we be able to see them at all?
At midday, when they reach the shack the small of Zelaria's back is a pulsing ball of pain. She grits when her animal lurches to a stop behind Rutherford, and marks Kharia's inquiry with a nod before encouraging her mule to step beside Rutherford so that she might address Caiden without having to speak too loudly.
"I dislike this quiet, and this mire. Do you believe we should make a circuit around the house before we announce ourselves?"
The enclosing mist makes Caiden uncomfortable as they ride deeper into marsh. The quiet is unnerving, and every clink and rustle of his armour seems louder and louder as the penetrate the fog.
Caiden leans back in his saddle and speaks quietly with Zelaria, "I agree, but do you think we'd spook him by skulking around his... home?"
Stretching his shoulders, he turns and looks back at Kharia. "What do you think, should we check the perimeter before continuing?"
Zelaria waits for Kharia to add her input before speaking again to Cayden ((and Kharia, too, if she joins the group)). "Skulking? In a swamp known to be infested with goblins?" she protests. "I did not mean that we should peek in his windows, simply survey the area to determine its and our security before we enter."
Zelaria looks to the house for any light, smoke rising from a chimney, anything indicating a sign of life.
Perception
"Your eyesight is likely better than mine, see you any indication that our host is within?"
There is no light from within, nor smoke coming from the small chimney in what should likely be the kitchen. Kharia shakes her head while slipping off her donkey. "I agree," she states, "One does not stalk about one's neighbors. It makes for a divided community. And though we are far from Sandpoint, he is still neighbor and possibly friend." Before you can stop her, she strides up to the door and raps on it heavily with the butt of her dagger before stepping back and calling out, "Hello?! Walthus Proudstump? Are you at home?" she calls out quietly.
You hear a bit of clacking at the door of the shack, and within moments out pops a scruffy, grubby little Halfling. His hair is matted, and his clothes are filthy. He appears to be quite tired, with deep bags under his bloodshot eyes. "Greetings, greetings!" he bustles out. "Yes, I am Walthus Proudstump, and this is my home. Now, what might bring three big folk to my door? I'd invite you in, but it's terrible messy inside." His voice has a rather curious tonal inflection, as though he were only using two or three pitches to form words. "Terrible, terrible mess, indeed. Don't get many visitors out this way!"
Caiden, as you look a bit closer at the Halfling, he appears to have several bite marks, showing through holes in his shirtsleeves and pant legs. He catches you looking and embarrassedly tries to Dover them with his hands. "Yes, it seems that the snakes got a little too close this time. Well one snake. A great big one! Too big. Had to chase it off."
((Ha ha, I kinda read Kharia's knock on the door as friendly as one from the SWAT when they serve a warrant. That's just my chaotic nature though, I suppose.))
How incredibly inviting, Zelaria muses as Kharia pounds on the door and yells. I do hope that she did not misinterpret my intentions... Oddly enough I thought it the security of the community we meant to protect.
Zelaria, seeing the halfling struggling to cover himself, and her companions enrapt by his display, lets down her quarterstaff ad slowly, painfully eases herself down off her mount, leaning heavily upon it to keep her back straight while she does. The earth feels every bit as soft and murky as it felt beneath the mule's hooves, and it is not a pleasant sensation. Assuredly more pleasant than being bitten by snakes, however, at least she would assume. Zelaria has never been bitten by a snake before.
I do not believe that we will be sleeping here, as Shalelu suggested, Zelaria hums, and still leaning on her quarterstaff heavily to assist her steps in the mud, approaches the halfling.
"Greetings, sir, I am Zelaria, daughter of Koya Mvashti. My vocal companion Kharia is a priestess of Erastil, and our knight is Caiden Farasi. The heroine Shalelu has spoken highly of you and your knowledge of the ways here. Might I ask which direction this snake went when you chased it off?"
Seeing that Walthus looks quite ill, Zelaria looks between him and Kharia with some amount of concern. "Sister, is there any aide you might offer our friend? Beg your pardon, Master Proudstump, but you do not look well."
Caiden smiles as Zelaria and Walthus exchange pleasantries. Swinging down from his mount he extends a hand in greeting to the dishevelled halfling.
"It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you Warden. This is the deepest I have ever been into the marsh, and I never suspected to see so fine a home in such a hostile environment!"
Noticing the bites, Caiden is taken aback. He's alone out here. If that snake comes back, how long will it take anyone to notice he's gone? Pulling Zelaria to the side, he speaks softly. "I don't like this, he looks like he's barely holding on out here. If we can help him with this snake, I think we should."
Caiden hooks his shield into Rutherfords saddle before slowly circling the edge of the clearing, trying to find any trace of the large snake. He uses the tip of his lance to probe the way through any vegetation, keeping an eye out for predators.
Survival (Track):
Zelaria bites her lower lip sharply when Caiden suddenly takes point and begins looking for danger.
Is this not what I asked before Kharia rapt upon the door? How was my caution less sound then?
((Zelaria keeps Caiden within her range of sight. If he gets more than 30 feet away from her, she will move with him, so that he will always been within range of her spells should he need her assistance in putting down a threat.))
((Ha! Yeah, guess she would think it was being polite.))
"Sandpoint, eh? And yes... Shalelu... What a... Yep! She's great!" he seems a little nervous as he speaks. "Oh, it went deep into the swamp. I don't really feel like chasing it now. It's not as bad as it looks, really. But if you want to go after it, ummm that way?" he points to the east, but Caiden, you Do not see any tracks.
Kharia begins to inspect the Halfling. "Yes, you are clearly poisoned. I cannot do much to treat that immediately, but perhaps I can do something for your wounds." She concentrates for a moment, clutches at the clasp of her cloak, and a wave of light pulses out from her.
Walthus shivers a bit, then appears to look slightly better. "Ha! Ah, thanks! Thanks much!" He gives a grin at this. "Feels great! Got any more?"
Kharia gives him a funny look at this. "You take lightly the power of Erastil?"
Walthus shakes his hands with a somewhat worrisome look on his face. "No, no! I only mean to say thanks! Please, don't hurt me!" He begins backing toward his door. "What do you want, anyway?"
Zelaria frowns at the rough exchange between Kharia and Warden Proudstump. One wonders how a priestess meant to serve the community is allowed to have such atrocious manners, she muses. Perhaps that is the reason why she is so eager to prove herself?
"Sister Kharia is very dedicated to our mission. We have been informed that the Licktoad tribe of goblins, which reside here, are responsible for a number of attacks on the caravans that pass through the area of late. They've been using fireworks to confound the guardsmen," Zelaria explains. "Shalelu informed us that you are the master of the ways here, and could advise us on how to proceed.
"Might I ask, Warden, is it always so quiet? And this fog? Is it natural?"