After having taken care of the a few things Emerion arrives to watch things play out between the prisoners and their interrogators. While making a rough map of the area from what he had seen and Telemakos had described from the air.
"I am Emerion son of Victor of the Nimlaidas clan. We were unaware of your territory, we are not of this land. As their are no markings of your realm we could not know. Had you chosen to approach us we could have reached an understanding. I am sure it has become clear to both sides that nether is weak or to be disrespected. We may come to an agreement between each other to allow us to remain in you realm, if not then maybe we could find a place outside your territory to settle. I happen to have a rough map, if you could mark the size of your territory we could know not to violet it in the future."
He shows the map to Hyuktaar.
"Yog vim li cas peb yuav tsum txoj kev nrog koj?" the goblin asks Corridan. He seems skeptical to say the least. When Emerion butts in with his map, Hyuktaar says, "Yuav ua li cas yog hais tias?" pointing to the map.
It seemed they did not have much in the way of map reading abilities. Putting the map away.
"Well then if your considering an alliance. We can offer a number of trade goods, weapons, armor, and even magical items if you have something worthy enough in trade."
He sends a guard to his tent with orders to speak to one of his servants.
Telemakos smiles as the lizards submit Good first day he lets them just taste the meat though, not allowing the animals to gorge themselves Keep them hungry for now. Food is reward for good behavior. “Your masters were weak.” he nods to Arasmes, and the genie, making sure he is seen by the lizards, grabs a non-disfigured hobgoblin corpse and smashes on a nearby rock “I am your master now, and I can be generous. But I expect obedience.” Loyalty would be too much I guess. Look how quick they turned from these ugly fellows when they died.
“When the new sun rises, you will show me what you can do.” he turns his back to the lizards, leaving Arasmes to control them.
He walks up to where Corridan and Emerion are interrogating the hobgoblins. In Common, he asks “Master Valkeri, Master Nimlaidas, if I may… I-I think I established a working relationship of sorts with lizards. I know certain tricks in dealing with animals, you know – sort of the reason I was deemed useful to the expedition. Would you like me to ask something to them, perhaps to corroborate something these… oh dear, are they hobgoblins such as Master Tarruk? That is curious!” Telemakso just now realizes that “Be warned, they do not possess great intelligence, and animal instincts not always translate well to spoken language. Still, if you think it could prove useful… I was thinking about asking what use did their riders have for them, what kind of building are in their society… we should be quick about it though, the incantation isn’t going to last for long.”
________________
"Telemakos, perhaps you should ask about how far they had to travel to attack us. I don't know if they know time or distance or what, but that could help us learn if they have a camp nearby." The Aldori sits between both sets of interrogators. Somewhere, he's found a waterskin and some dried beef. He seems to be recovering his strength, though sleep might cure it all.
Penance listens to Corridan explain, and lets go of the prisoner's throat in disgusted resignation. He rubs at his face with his bloody hand.
"Seems like you got it under control," he says hoarsely to Corridan. "I'll just let you... handle it. 'm gonna go outside and..."
Pass out, he thinks. The half-orc staggers back outside the tent and leans on his sword for a while. No. Standing's hard. He sits down and stares out at the carnage on the eastern side of the camp.
Lot of good men dead there. His armor seems... so heavy. His sword, too. Be nice to lay everything down... go to sleep.
If he'd died back there, he thinks, his mother wouldn't know how he'd gone out. He'd probably better write her some sort of note, put it on his body, tell the other agents it's there...
Georg and the others ought to be buried, Penance thinks. That's gonna be a... lot of work. He's really tired.
While Corridan asks questions of their prisoner, Penance leans his head inside to mutter to Devram.
"You were near me when I woke up, weren't you? ...'djyou heal me? Someone did..."
Shinjuko hovers behind Devram and Corridan as a silent party for much of the interrogation. She is glad, for the moment, that torture has not been inflicted upon the captured hobgoblins, though being incapable of understanding their speech makes it difficult to follow the tone and course of the conversation.
"Perhaps we should also find out if there are other inhabitants to be encountered upon the island? While the fact that they tried to kill us cannot be argued, it might serve our purpose far better to continue pushing for an alliance, however loose of one it might be. They are not incorrect: we are invaders. Thus far, we have merely fought to survive. Should we press the attack we will remove any sort of peace from the table wholesale, I wager."
Shinjuko's gaze wanders towards the tent flap, as if considering the strange island that stretches out beyond its confines. "They did not wield insanity against us, but weapon and beast."
Pausing in thought, Shinjuko bows and excuses herself for several moments. When she returns, she is carrying a skrivener's kit and a sheet of parchment. She seats herself neatly off to the side of the interrogation and begins calmly and quietly scratching away some sort of drawing upon the sheet. When she has concluded, there is a simple drawing of the golden idol that had been returned with the first expedition. "Let us see what they make of this image."
Devram looks at Penance. The half-orc looks worse than Devram felt. Despite that, he was up and attempting to resume command. Damned fool, but just the kind we need. I bet that's what the Consortium thought too.
"Yeah, Chief, though you didn't wake up until later. It took a potion and a spell to even get you to this hale and hearty state." He coughs into this hand and wipes the resulting blood off on his trousers. Just another bloodstain.
"We thought we'd lost you out there. Damn near lost everything. I hope they can find us some info on these hobgoblins. We need to figure out our next move too. We can harden the defenses here, though we lost a sizeable amount of men. Or we can get everyone up and break the camp in the morning. It won't be easy, but we can try for the hilltop." He leads Penance outside the tent.
"That would be my choice. I'd like not to be here when they come back. And barring some miracle in there-" He thumbs back at the interrogation session. "They will be back. It might mean we're more vulnerable in the short term. But I'll take the gamble."
The Aldori looks out to the black ocean nearby. "When are we getting resupplied?" He looks back, knowing full well the answer.
Penance notices the blood smearing from Devram's hand onto his trousers, and, rather than express concern, he attempts a gallows-humor grin at the other man. "Hey now. No more bleedin' allowed, battle's over."
The grin takes too much effort to maintain, so Penance lets it drop as he follows Devram outside. He listens to Coates's thoughts on the matter of relocating camp, even though all he really wants to do is crawl somewhere dark and sleep for a week-- but the words of Abadar are still ringing in his head. Gotta do better. Gotta learn quick.
He rubs at his face, staring towards where the hill is, although the hill is not visible in the darkness.
"It's better long-term, you're right about that. If we're lucky, those buggers committed enough of their forces to us in that raid that we'll have a few days' grace to move. What lights my arse-hairs is that the bulk of the men we lost were the ones who could see night threats. Whatever we rig, we'll have to get a better set-up for throwing light up quick... half the problem tonight was not bein' able to see."
The talk of logistics and strategy drags him out of his aching body and back to the job. There's wounded men he should be dealing with. Dead men too.
" 'm gonna walk the edge," (okay, limp the edge) "and get a count on how many we lost. Set men to dragging bodies, and all. Last thing we need is wild animals coming for the blood."
Penance pauses, then clasps a brief, gruff hand to Devram's shoulder. "Thanks for pouring a potion down my throat, then. I'll owe you one, eh? Pay it back to you next month, when supplies come back in... if we're still alive. Heh."
Devram nods. "Sure, I'll take a ticket out of here. Go ahead, make the rounds. Just know the men need some rest. Especially if we're going to pushing them hard tomorrow. We all need some rest."
Especially you, Chief. Don't go dying on us.
The swordsman re-enters the tent to watch the interrogations.
When Shinjuko shows her drawing of the idol to the hobgoblins, they look surprised and a little confused.
"Vim li cas lub dej khov succubus muaj ib daim duab ntawm Vajtswv? Thiab yog vim li cas nws tsis zoo li ib khob iav Nplai kos nws?" Hyuktaar's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Yog koj tub qhe ntawm lub iav teev?"
Are you servants of the Glass Scales?
"It is their God, it appears," Corridan calmly translates. "He also refers to something or someone called a 'Glass Scale'. Specifically, he says that it looks as if a 'Glass Scale' drew it and asks if we are servants of these 'Glass Scales'."
"Another group of this island's inhabitants perhaps? And if so, are they allies or enemies of our... friends here?"
"And may I add that I do not think he considers them friends," the tailor adds after a moment's pause. "There is suspicion behind his words when he refers to them."
Thinking on what they had so far, no much really, still it was something.
"I think this glass scale who or whatever it is. May have a higher intelligence then these hobgoblins. I showed them a map earlier that they had no concept of yet they respond to a simple drawing of their idol which they connect to this glass scale. Hobgoblins are not naturally stupid, these seem to be simply ignorant in matters concerning linguistics or at least the writing kind. This glass scale may not be. I would think they have some sort of relationship, hobgoblins normally don't even trust their own kind but that does not mean they don't work well as we have seen. I would guess this glass scale may be a magic user, perhaps a shaman of some kind. That would always garner fear in equal parts to respect. By asking us if we are servants this glass scale could be akin to a high priest with acolytes. Hobgoblins tend to force their spellcasters to the fringe of their civilizations due to mistrust of magic, but if the number of spellcasters was large enough they could carve out their own place I suppose."
He stops for a moment.
"Pardon my thoughts ran away with me. Come the morrow I can prepare spells to search his thoughts, which should prove far more revealing then questions. Best figure out the questions to ask though."
It seemed they did not have much in the way of map reading abilities. Putting the map away.
** spoiler omitted **
He sends a guard to his tent with orders to speak to one of his servants.
The hobgoblin looks a little incredulous. "Koj sib ntaus zoo, tab sis koj yog li ob peb. Yog hais tias koj muaj qhov uas peb yuav siv thiab, peb yuav cia li tua koj thiab nqa nws. Yuav ua li cas koj yuav ua rau peb? Yog vim li cas koj tham nrad nej tus kheej es tsis txhob teb cov lus kuv cov lus nug? Yog koj cov neeg ua hauj ntawm lub iav teev?"
Looking back at the hobgoblin.
"Who or what are the glass scales, we may or may not know them by another name. As to why we speak amongst ourselves, why would we not?"
Adjusting his lenses his expression grows a little more serious.
"As for our numbers, do you send your full force or greatest warriors simply to scout? Doubtful. As for simply killing us and taking what we have. It would cost you dearly to try to do so, this is not a boast but truth as we have seen. Even if you could, you know not what we have as we do not know what you desire. You may find the cost in blood unworthy of what you gain, I never said we had anything of value with us after all. If you desire something that we can provide we may come to an agreement. What we can do is acquire things for a price, so what is it you desire?"
"Lub khob dos yog ib pawg neeg ntawm lizards nyob rau hauv lub swamps sab qaum teb ntawm no. Nws yog lawv cov version ntawm Vajtswv hais tias koj yog dab ntxwg nyoog ice kos duab. Kuv paub tsis npaum li cas uas koj tuaj los ntawm nws, tab sis kom meej meej koj yog li tsis lees paub txog raws li ib tug me nyuam. Peb to taub lag luam tawm. Tag nrho cov neeg nrhiav mus yuav peb tej cuab yeej no, rau cov uas peb naas ej. Kuv tau pom koj cov swords, lawv yog cov tsis muaj zoo dua peb lub. Txawm tus xiav ib tus xob quaj stick yog nthuav. Muaj koj ntau tshaj ntawm lawv?"
Telemakos goes back to the lizards Oh now how to phrase these questions… this would be SO much easier with ponies! “How many times did the light in the sky appear when you traveled from the past master’s home to here?” This should be comprehensible, I think. Telemakos has Arasmes holding a tiny piece of meat as a reward to the lizard that speaks first.
He does the same with other questions he has for the lizards – hoping to be skilled enough to phrase them comprehensibly and that the subjects are actually stuff the lizards can understand
“Did your past masters have enemies other than us?”
“What are the most fearsome predators in the island?”
“Did you serve another master before these, or were you free?”
He places a hand behind his back, flicking his wrist he brings his revolver to bare from his back.
"You mean this? They are many kinds and even where we come from they are not common. Yet I do not see any reason why we could not work out an agreement. Let me call the "blue one" as you say."
He looks at the others.
"The glass scales are lizardfolk or some other reptilian humanoid. They dwell in the swamps north of here. He seems interested in our guns and claims his people are the best armor smiths around. That everyone want's to buy their armor. Which leads me to believe their are more then just hobgoblins and lizardfolk around or it could be a boast. They are unimpressed with our swords so I think they may be interested in magical weapons should we have them in the future. I will send for Iliante as our resident gun expert."
He tells one of the guards to go get Iliante to join them.
Telemakos goes back to the lizards Oh now how to phrase these questions… this would be SO much easier with ponies! “How many times did the light in the sky appear when you traveled from the past master’s home to here?” This should be comprehensible, I think. Telemakos has Arasmes holding a tiny piece of meat as a reward to the lizard that speaks first.
He does the same with other questions he has for the lizards – hoping to be skilled enough to phrase them comprehensibly and that the subjects are actually stuff the lizards can understand
“Did your past masters have enemies other than us?”
“What are the most fearsome predators in the island?”
“Did you serve another master before these, or were you free?”
"Holy shit you ask a lot of questions. One time, light. What's an enemy? What's a predator? What's serve? What's free? Ooh...yummies!"
Iliante arrives to the interrogation after his small trip through the tree line. "Nim, you called?"
He repeats everything the hobgoblin has said and what he has found out to Iliante. As well as their interest in firearms.
"Of course, he's interested in firearms. Everyone is. That's why I'm here. I don't have any extra to trade, but Alkenstar might want to trade for that armor with Aspis taking their cut of course."
"Holy s@%* you ask a lot of questions. One time, light. What's an enemy? What's a predator? What's serve? What's free? Ooh...yummies!"
You can ask questions of and receive answers from animals, but the spell doesn't make them any more friendly than normal. Wary and cunning animals are likely to be terse and evasive, while the more stupid ones make inane comments. If an animal is friendly toward you, it may do some favor or service for you.
"Exaggerate. Ask them of their naval capabilities. Explain that we are but the advance of a much larger force. Should our efforts here bear fruit, it will likely become truth. They think us a random band of explorers. While there is some merit to that thought, it is inevitable that more will follow us in the years to come. Our employers have invested far too much to allow stubborn natives to deny them. We need to discover something they want that we can provide, and leverage it accordingly. The alternative is facing hostile resistance for the entirety of our time upon this island. We simply do not have the manpower to effect a victory in a prolonged engagement."
Shinjuko regards the captured hobgoblins serenely. She is forced to begrudgingly admit that they are trained well—competent combatants. They could prevail for a time against similar raids, but if their first party was simply a vanguard to a much larger force, their expedition would likely be overwhelmed and eradicated. "If we cannot discover a mutual arrangement here, we will likely have to resort to more drastic measures."
Emerion turns to Yamakawa for a moment.
"I have already said as much and the discussion is in the negotiation phase if I read things right. They are interested in firearms for the moment. Which may lead to an agreement. If nothing else we have discovered another group that is at least on equal footing not to be over taken by the hobgoblins."
Turning back to the hobgoblin, he had no questions as to why he was sent.
Hyuktaar nods when shown the pistol.
Satisfied with the information he got from the lizards, Telemakos lets the spell wear off and wanders back to the interrogation of the hobgoblins, where he bores himself to death when he discovers he can’t follow the language that is being spoken. Oooh this is tedious. Does it really take so long to translate a sentence so short? Oh Gods, I’ll have to learn this awful language, won’t I? And I was just getting halfway decent in the Tongue of the Wyrms, I’ll have to set aside my studies for this sequence of phlegm gurgles and harsh sounds. Oooof!
The gnome shares briefly what little details he got from the lizards, then sits down just outside the tent, very much intending to stay awake to hear the end of the interrogation but most likely dozing off after a few minutes.
"The blue one as you call him does not have any for trade now. But in time he can arrange for some to be brought, depending on what your people can offer in exchange. Now you said we are in your people's territory. How large is your territory? Where does it end? Who has territory that borders yours? Also do you know whose territory holds the hills a few days walk from here in the swampy area?"
<< | | | >>
"Peb muaj hlau, muaj tej cuab yeej, swords, bows, caij lizards thiab ib co qhev," Hyuktaar replies. "Koj muaj rau pom zoo rau tej yam deal nrog tus Vajntxwv ntawm chav kawm. Kuv hais tsis tau rau tag nrho pawg neeg."
Hyuktaar seems unsure how to answer the questions about the hobgoblin's teritory. "Yog hais tias koj caij ib tug scale rov qab rau peb hnub hais tias txoj kev," he says pointing mostly south and somewhat west "Koj yuav tau tuaj rau ntawm lub ntug ntawm peb ib ncig. Muaj ib hnub uas txoj kev, thiab muaj ib hnub uas txoj kev," he continues, pointing towards the mountains and the swamps. "Muaj ntau tus neeg nyob ib sab peb. Lub Great Dawb pawg neeg, tus saib ib pawg neeg, tus txha taub hau Crusher Band, ntiv taw eaters Band, lub Hlawv Ntug Band, thiab ces muaj .... Loremtantibus." he says the names of their neighbors with varying degrees of respect or disdain in his voice. He seems particularly wary of the Great Whites and downright terrified of Loremtantibus.
We have iron ore, armor, swords, bows, riding lizards and some slaves.
You'd have to approve any deal with the King of course. I can not speak for the whole tribe.
If you ride a scale back for three days that way, You will come to the edge of our territory. One day that way, and one day that way.
Many peoples live beside us. The Great White Tribe, the Monitor Tribe, the Skull Crusher Band, Toe Eaters Band, the Burning Edge Band, and then there is....Loremtantibus.
Emerion translates everything for the others.
"I suspect we have another dragon to deal with, if it is a green dragon then it should be far more reasonable then the last one we encountered if we are lucky. Best avoided for now none the less."
"Kuv yuav tsum qhia rau koj, txij li thaum koj paub ib yam dab tsi, hais tias yog hais tias tej yam peb tau txais tam sim ntawd lawv yuav raug muab qhia lub Khaan (huab tais) tsis ntev li cas tau transpired no. Yog hais tias koj xav kom muaj thaj yeeb sib raug zoo nrog peb, koj yuav tau tso rau peb, thiab bury peb honored tuag nyob rau hauv lawv tej cuab yeej no. Koj puas mus tua peb neeg raug kaw, los yog coj tau tus muaj tej cuab yeej los ntawm peb cov poob lub vaj ntxwv yuav pom nws ua ib tug kos npe rau ntawm kuj zoo kawg thiab disrespect thiab sacrilidge. Nws yuav yuam kom tshaj tawm hais tias nyob mus ib txhis ua tsov ua rog rau koj. Koj yuav tag nrho tuag, tiam sis tus nqi yuav zoo rau kuv ib pawg neeg. Tom qab peb sib ntaus sib tua niaj hnub no, Kuv xav tias peb yuav ua tau zoo ua ke," Hyuktaar says to Corridan and Emerion. The other hobgoblins nod at his words, muttering agreement.
Emerion translates just as one of his servants brings in two barrels and some mugs.
"I suggest we do as they ask."
He informs one of the guards to spread the word, no doubt they had been stripped of everything and piled up somewhere. Best get the enemy included in the burial team's work.
"At least we can keep the swords and bows. I will have someone fetch their clothes and armor as well. If no one objects I will unbind them."
If no one objects he cuts them loose. Picking up a mug he fills it partly with applejack.
"I have given the order to bury your dead in their armor as ours are being buried even now. As well as to bring your own. Try this, it's one of many drinks from our land."
Offering it to Hyuktaar before doing the same to the other two.
Iliante objects to cutting them loose. "Wait to do that. They can walk back home without their armor. It would give us a bargaining chip with them and their king. We can always return their armor later, especially if they watch us bury their dead in armor."
"Qhov no yog ib qho zoo. Yog hais tias koj xav, thov bury lawv nyob rau hauv lub hav zoov. Peb tsis xav txog xuab zeb mus yuav av. Cov hlau ntawm lawv tej cuab yeej thiab cov ntshav ntawm lawv cev nqaij daim tawv yuav tsum rov qab mus rau av rau Vajtswv kom paub txog tej ntawd li rau nws cov thwjtim."
"I never said I was going to let them go. Not just yet anyways. But we should get them dressed and when their king arrives I rather have him be greeted by them in their armor not naked. Remember some escaped, they attacked us after little more then a day. The next group will be here in that time. They don't have to go anywhere, our meeting will happen soon enough right here."
He was starting to get an idea about these hobgoblins. If they placed a high value on respect and such things as being buried with their armor. Then sending them back in mere clothes would be an insult both on those that returned and their king. In fact it could be a death sentence for the three to return without their armor if it held such value in their culture.
Emerion passes on the request to one of the guards to spread the word.
"Well, it appears my expertise in firearms is no longer required at the moment." Iliante shakes his head and walks away.
Penance does what he says he will: he walks the perimeter, talking with the surviving guards and the mercenaries' boorish leader to get an idea of the losses sustained. Those men he meets who are injured, Penance does his best to help bind their wounds, grimly aware that his healing of the sailors on the ship has created an expectation: they think he can cure with a touch.
And sometimes he can, but not now. So it's the old-fashioned way: strips of cloth, torn for crude bandages.
There are far too many men and women who are past any help. Penance organizes crews of those still whole of body, to start laying out their own dead in an orderly fashion, working by torchlight. As for the enemy...
"We strip these whoresons of their gear and toss 'em into the water to feed the fish," he growls, to some noises of agreement from the men.
Of course, when the word reaches him of the plan to bury their enemies in their armor, Penance looks up in ragged and annoyed disbelief.
"Are you shitting me?" he demands of the hapless sailor who conveyed the message. Penance looks down at the enemy he's just taken the armor off of, grooooooans, and drops his head into his big hands.
"...okay, men, new orders: put their kit back on the bastards," Penance says dully. "Gonna give 'em proper military gods-damned honors. Full burial."
He tosses a shell-decorated gauntlet back onto the corpse in question, and stands wearily. Hell with it. The men have their orders. He's gonna get out of his own banged-up armor and see if he can't find something to drink, get a little liquid back in himself after losing most of his body's blood onto the sand.
“Master! Master!”
“… uh? Wh-what?”
“Master, wake up!”
“Ubh? What? What is…?”
“Master, you were falling asleep!”
“What? Then let me sleep, you buffoon!”
“Master, I don’t want to go away right now. I think something is going on!”
“Something else? Oh dear. What can possibly…?”
“Master Penance says we are to give the enemies milirary funetary honors.”
“That’s nonsen… Oh. Oh I get what you want to say. Why? Never mind. Why is this important, rather?”
“Master you had me feed almost half of one of them to the lizards and…”
“Oh. Oh I get it. Well… Just… handle it, I’ll go back to sleep.”
“Master I can’t do anything while you sleep!”
“Isn’t that the problem with you, ‘Ras? Sigh. Very well, let’s see what’s going on…”
Stretching his amrs and legs, the gnome gets up and joins Penance in overseeing the funeral operations.
"I look forward to treating with their leader. We must remember: we are the invaders here. Things that refuse to bend will ultimately break. A show of respect is a small price to pay to secure further foothold upon these strange tides. There is much to learn of these hobgoblins and the others that dwell upon the island. Master Nimlaidas, if there is any support or assistance I can offer, do not hesitate to call upon me. As you have been thrust into the role of translator, I fear you have perhaps unwillingly volunteered your services as liaison. I shall endeavor to aid you as much as I am able."
Shinjuko maintains a respectful vigil over the prisoners—or the pretense of such, at least. Truthfully, she is more curious about them than she would ever admit.