"Can hardly complain if some other did a bit of your handiwork for ya." Walthus smiles. "If ya won't be needin' anything else, I'll head back."
Alazandaru enters the water once more and retrieves the body. It is a goblin.
Upon closer examination, you realize the goblin's chest bears slash marks.
Not one to ignore a chance for free coin, Alazandaru cuts off its ears with one of his many daggers, slipping it into a pouch on his belt.
We won't find out by wagging our tongues. I suggest we move away to a less exposed area as soon as possible.
Lisabett gives a firm nod, but rises slowly, and stiffly. Might those cruel beasts have followed us so far south? she wonders, and shivers. Suddenly, being caked in the filth of the mire seems to touch her, and Lisabett, frowning, pulls a javelin from her quiver and holds it in her fists. She feels her magics beating just beneath her skin, now, cooling her heart and slowing its beat as she slips into her warrior guise and begins searching for any sign of them who have come before her current troupe.
Sorin looks at the goblin's body and the slash marks. "Perhaps whatever monster it is that prowls this swamp is not very discriminating about it targets. That could be good or bad for us depending on how things play out."
Turning to Alazandaru, "Why in such a hurry? I doubt the goblins are going to undergo a mass migration in the next hour or so. We should take the time to examine everything unusual that we come across; our lives may depend on it."
"Be careful, ai." Walthus Proudstump steps back into his boat, wincing in pain as he does so. It seems this endeavor, however small, has taxed his wounds. "Thanks to ya for the furs, and for the savin', all. Ya can find me back at the house, and always will I be offerin' shelter to ya. Desna look over ya." He pushes his rowboat from the bank and starts back north along the shore.
Almar scoffs at Lisbett's explanation of what could have happened:"Fireworks are not weapons. They are just fun games meant to entertain by making nice lights appear in the night sky. It's the powder they are made of that can be used as a weapon, but I must admit I'm extremely surprised the goblins who stole them did not make themselves explode in a spectacular fashion... anyway no one in his right mind and with the necessary knowledge would think of fireworks as weapons... if these other hunters did what you suggest they did they would be greater fools than the goblins themselves"
"Anything can be a weapon in the hands of those with ill intent. There is a little girl back at the temple who will likely never view fireworks as anything but a weapon. Nevertheless, the use of such objects by goblins is strange. They can be cunning but...not in this way."
Having scouted ahead slightly to look for tracks, Lisabett pauses and looks back to her companions, and silently gestures first to her eyes, then to the ground, and shakes her head firmly to indicate that she has found no sign of any other party. Strange, that, she muses, there were no other sign than Warden Proudstump, either, at his house. If this party that had gone missing[/i] had consulted with him, as we have, would not they have left sign as well? If they were such experts in the way, why have they not returned?[/i]
Lisabett will wait for Alazandaru, whose eyes are proving to be much sharper, and whose skills at sneaking are greater to proceed and follow towards the rear, possessing none of these skills herself.
As the five of you consider the body that lies on the ground, your eyes inevitably drift up and catch sight of the point where the irregular cover of the trees gives way to a tight row of tall, wooden poles. It is a wall, still some distance to the south of where you now stand.
"anything can be a weapon... IF you know how to make it work as one. What I'm saying is it seems very strange these creatures have the necessary knowledge to operate such a dangerous substance as black powder without killing themselves in the attempt. We may be dealing with something more sinister than goblins and I don't think it's our fellow missing goblin hunters... the dead goblin may be an example of sorts... Well I guess we may stay here and discuss this all day long, or we can go check of ourselves..." finishes Almar pointing at the stockade and cautiously starting to move towards it.
Stealth check:
"Well I guess we may stay here and discuss this all day long, or we can go check of ourselves..." finishes Almar pointing at the stockade and cautiously starting to move towards it.
A man of good sense, excellent. Alazandaru says drily as he moves ahead to scout.
Stealth
Perception
Lisabett will fall into step behind Alazandaru. When it becomes clear that he intends to keep a good distance from them, she will do her utmost to maintain. Her long limbs move with above average grace, and lend to a certain amount of quiet, seemingly despite being weighed down by swamp filth.
Sorin will follow the group as quietly as he can.
The water and mud from the murky stream seems to have gotten underneath the scales of his armor making them grind together no matter how Sorin shifts his stance.
Alazandaru moves in front of the group without so much as a sound. His feet deftly find the driest ground on which to step, but even when he must bound to avoid making a splash, he lands silently. Or so it seems to you. The wet scrape of Sorin's scales may mask some noise that would otherwise reach your ears.
As you get closer to what you guess to be the goblin settlement, more details become clear to you. Your view of the interior is blocked by a crude, wooden palisade that surrounds the village. There seems to be a wide gap in it, however, along the northeastern side.
Raziel brings up the rear of the party, watching all around for signs of enemies or creatures that might be stalking them. A bit worried, he pulls out his scimitar from the sheath, and holds it at the ready.
"I wonder what will greet us in the palisade ahead," he ponders. "Goblins that we know about, but something else that might hunt them."
He doesn't really try to keep extra silent, knowing that is not abilities, but does hang back so the noise he makes doesn't give their prey too much warning.
The ambient noise of the swamp around you lends no hint of any danger, nor can you see any threat behind you. You look back to the walled village, but there is neither sight nor sound to indicate any movement within.
I had not thought that monsters would be this organized, Lisabett admits silently. Truth be told, she had not known what to expect. Years of fighting men over land and resources, she could anticipate their needs and motivations better for they were her own. Shelter first and foremost, warmth second, but only in the summer months, and finally food. Monsters... Lisabett knew only the kind that wore human skins.
Thinking on the goblin corpse they had exhumed from the river, Lisabett slows and begins looking for any sign of the previous party.
But as you look more closely, you realize that only the right foot left the mark of a boot. The corresponding indentation is segmented, as if made by a foot stripped bare of flesh.
Lisabett inhales sharply, and immediately looks to the group and signals for them to stop. She points directly at Brother Holheim and gestures for him to come to her. When he arrives, she will kneel down and trace the outlines of the track she has found.
"A single boot," she whispers, "and this foot appears to be... wounded, but there is no blood. If there were such wounds, would they not have bled?"
Almar looks at the traces puzzled... Strange.... strange indeed.
"Honestly I don't know what to make of that... let's move on and enter that palisade. I guess that's the goblin's stronghold, so let's get in and get rid of them, if there's something worse we'll deal with it... just keep near each other...I suggest me and Sorin to be the front line of our little host, with brother Holheim and Lisbett behind us and Alazandru as our scout moving in first"
Stealth Check:
Perception Check:
Alazandaru calls for a halt.
Keep your damn voices down! he hisses. By the gods Sorin, could you march a bit further back? You could announce our presence more subtly with a trumpet! Now... There are some gaps in the palisade, but more noticable is the fact their front gate is in splinters- I think someone might have beaten us to claiming the bounty. Follow me, we'll take a closer look at the gate...
If there are no major objections to his plan, Alaandaru will continue to scout ahead and make a beeline for the northern gate.
This makes no sense, Sorin thinks. Goblins are swarming creatures; why is it so quiet? Where did they get the blackpowder from let alone learn how to use it? No goblin chief, no matter how cunning, could pull this off. Some other fell hand must be behind this.
Sorin looks ahead to see if Alazandru has given any indication of seeing anything.
Alazandaru calls for a halt.
Keep your damn voices down! he hisses. By the gods Sorin, could you march a bit further back? You could announce our presence more subtly with a trumpet! Now... There are some gaps in the palisade, but more noticable is the fact their front gate is in splinters- I think someone might have beaten us to claiming the bounty. Follow me, we'll take a closer look at the gate...
If there are no major objections to his plan, Alaandaru will continue to scout ahead and make a beeline for the northern gate.
Lisabett bites her lip harshly when Alazandaru rebukes the team for speaking, and rises stiffly from where she knelt to indicate the tracks that she had found in her ranging. She slides her javelin back into its quiver, preferring the familiar comfort and the additional reach of her spear for blocking if it came to melee engagements, and follows Alazandaru at the previously dictated pace, again attempting to keep as quiet as possible, but her boots squelch in the mire and she moves with all the grace of a floundering colt.
Sorin frowns. I didn't come here just so I could claim a bounty but that would explain the dead goblin in the river...but what could tear the gate open?
Sorin attempts to move more quietly but continues to inch forward looking around, already feeling that Alazandru is dangerously exposed standing in front of the gate by himself.
Alazandaru moves to the wall, looking up to check for any movement up top. There is none. Everything is still. No sound but the swamp.
The rest of you follow behind at a distance, but eventually come close to the walls. The broken gate is obvious to you now; it looks as if it were both bludgeoned in the center and hacked free at the hinges, but not with precision. Because the craftsmanship of the gate is suspect, it is difficult to determine what force was needed to destroy it.
From where you stand, you can see into the enclosed village. It consists of a collection of ramshackle huts connected by wooden walkways, all built on thick wooden stilts. Most of the buildings are intact, but the foremost one on the eastern side has been completely demolished. There is no movement within, and not a sound either.
No, there is a sound...
The buzzing of flies. You hear the buzzing of flies, and then you notice the smell.
Lisabett walks carefully around the remains of the gate, studying the fragments for any signs of flesh, or blood that might indicate that the strange tracks left in the swamp were caused by something that passed through this way, however whatever the source of the smell is causes her eyes to water and she gets no accurate read of the scene.
Even with her senses hampered, Lisabett can tell that a struggle took place at the gate not more than a few days past. The swamp has not wholly reclaimed the signs of battle.
The smell is indeed nauseating. Burnt flesh, it must be.
Sorin wrinkles his nose at the smell. Now what made that hut so special... Sorin walks over to hut that's been demolished and pokes around.
Whatever the results, I'll use Detect Evil and look around.
Lisabett continues studying the remains of the gate. When did that former party go missing? she wonders, trying to recall if either Lady Ameiko or Sheriff Belor had mentioned a date. No, only that they had not returned. A disorganized party, a terrified party might hack at the joints like this if they were confined by a greater force...
Lisabett's eyes widen as she watches Sorin walk into the compound. Her mouth opens, but she is too frightened to speak. They were drawn in!
With little else at her disposal to draw the knight's attention to her without calling out like a shrew and alarming whatever might lay within, Lisabett grabs hold of one of her javelins and tosses it in Sorin's direction.
Please, Lisabett pleads as the javelin sinks into the ground. Please look!
There is no sign of life. No movement. No sound, except for the flies. And there is the smell, of course, coming from a pit directly in front of the gate. A heap of blackened goblin corpses lies there, surrounded by charred wood. It looks like a pyre left to burn without sufficient fuel and then not relit. It is nigh impossible to stand near, for the choking stench is overpowering.
Sorin walks to the demolished hut. Fire was used here too, but perhaps not for the same purpose. There are no dead nearby.
A javelin sails from Lisabett's hand and plunks into the mud near Sorin. He turns to see his comrade, imploring him silently.
Alazandaru -
Almar -
Lisabett
Raziel
Sorin
Stealth:
Goblins (Group Roll) -
So fire was used on this hut but not any of the others. Why would that be? A large struggle would have caused more damage I would have thought but... Sorin involuntarily takes a step back as the javelin lands in front of him. Confused, he looks up and see Lisabett's face.
Something's wrong... Hefting his glaive he begins to slowly make his way back to where Lisabett is standing continuing to scour the nearby area with his Detect Evil
What are you doing Sorin? Fool... Alazandaru whispered in frustration as the blundering fool wandered into the camp.
Everyone keep him covered...Remaining hidden, Alazandaru moved swiftly inside the camp himself with daggers drawn, remaining in cover and attempting to get near Sorin, still wary of danger.
Stealth
Perception
Alazandaru moves swiftly but silently next to Sorin, carefully watching the windows of the huts. Nothing stirs from within, but the rickety fort has any number of places from which to launch an ambush. Alazandaru turns, trying his best to keep hidden while taking everything into account.
It's then that he notices that the algae in the pool was disturbed recently.
Alazandaru kept himself poised and ready from his hidden position, even more certain that Sorin was about to be attacked and hoping to counter-ambush any attackers.
Perception
Well... he doesn't lack courage, that Sorin fellow, anyway this plece is quiet... way too quiet...
Almar takes out his pistol and scans the area wary of any potential troubles...
Perception check:
We are too spread out! Lisabett recognizes, watching her companions walk away from each other. Separate, panic, and drive!
Raziel slowly walks up to where Lisabett is at the gate. He stops there, near her, and looks at the goblin camp and the devastation within.
Sorin continues to move slowly back towards the rest of the group. Seeing Alazandru come up nearby he whispers over, I sense no evil nearby but that doesn't mean it isn't there; it may be outside of my ability to perceive. He continues to concentrate on Detect Evil.
Lisabett rises when she sees Sorin returning, pulling her spear towards her, herb hands spread wide on the haft, ready to utilize its length in battle. Her heartrate is slow and even, as is her breathing, and her mind is calm. Lisabett has participated in dozens of battles, and wears more on her arms, face and even her stomach and chest, but the skin on her back remains mostly whole, save for the tattoos. No warrior with any amount of pride, even that which is broken, would turn and run from a fight, and no man who could call himself one would attack from the rear, either.
Stop drawing attention to me! Alazandaru hisses. When Sorin returns to the group he simply maintains his position, keeping his eyes peeled for trouble.
It is quiet,... too quite, Raziel thinks. And no creatures eating the dead. Something is still here...
"Methinks that something got here before us," Raziel whispers to the nearby Lisabett. "And either it cleaned up after itself, or there are goblins left to burn their own dead." He nods towards the burnt goblin pyre.
"Either way, we have to check trough this... camp," he continues. "I would suggest only one or two of us search, while the rest stand ready to defend them."