Grumbling, "It seems as if the forest does not like our chosen path."
Growling every time his foot sinks into the mud. Here I though I would have the chance to get to know these three a little better but the land is conspiring against me.
Wiping water from his face with a sneer, "Great glories!"
"I hope we haven't angered someone important. I don't need an angry dryad on my ass..."
Gallidren carefully studies the woods around him. "The forces of nature can be very fickle. We must tread carefully."
Marcus took first watch, but his sleep was fitful. By the time Prophet roused him for his watch he was glad to be awake.
"Uff. I hate this place." he grumbled, checking on the trapped werewolf and making sure the piton was still firm in the celing.
"Probably some damned fey making mischief," Kilarra remarks, coming to the same conclusion not long after Gallidren. "They're out here in the Stolen Lands, but I've never figured out how to get them to leave you alone. They don't mean any harm, they're just... annoying." She sighs and continues trekking on, not stopping after dark as she remarks they can make it back to the Trading Post if they push on into the night for a few more hours. Sure enough, they do eventually reach the gates of Oleg's trading post and Kreston almost calls for you to halt before he recognizes you and calls for someone to open the gates and let you in. "You've got some visitors, did you know that? Three of 'em, and your archer friend. I'd guess they're asleep, though; you'll have to catch them in the morning. Oleg's still up doing something over in the stables, and the old priest is still around too." Sure enough, Jhod is seated outside in the pavilion despite the hour of night, clutching a small, hand-carved pendant of Erastil's holy symbol. He seems to be praying.
- - - - -
The half-orc passes the night fitfully, keeping the first watch and then rolling some in his sleep as the nightmares fill his mind. He's not one for the more esoteric joys of nature, but symbols he understands, and the dream is full of troubling ones. He comes awake a few times, and grumbles and rolls over, eventually resting with his hand out to grip the hilt of his sword. Come morning, he's up early and none too happy about it, staring out at the lake with bleary eyes. "It's going to be a long few days."
Gallidren will offer a handful of gold up to the trees. "Please show yourselves, fey. We mean you no harm. Please accept this shiny gold as a gift of friendship."
Gallidren will kneel down and join Jhod in prayer to Erastil. Once complete, he nods to Jhod. "Good to see you again, my friend. We have found an old temple of Erastil in the woods. I look forward to clearing it and restoring it to its former glory. I pray we may civilize this land in the name of Old Deadeye. Do you have any news to share?"
Knowing the terrain was to get a bit more rugged and bandits were a concern, Kahurangi decided to spend a significant portion of his gold and time acquiring and training a horse - Chana. She was a bit of a wild one, yet eventually Kahurangi's interspecies empathy seemed to work its magic on her, and the two bonded well enough for riding to be more of a benefit and less of an obstacle. His tribe didn't have horses on the isles, so it took him a bit of advice from the locals on how to ride. Once he'd done so, the trio was off into the wilds.
Cooler than most places in his life, the land here was refreshing and beautiful in its untapped growth. It reminded him of the Mwangi Expanse, the jungle caring little for the rules of man. Many of the isles of his youth formed a strong connection with the natural ways, and Amara suspected much of the magecraft he'd grow to be capable of would be connected to Golarion. However, it wasn't until Chief Rongo arrived Kahurangi's spellcasting grew in any significant potency. Somehow, both of them seemed right. During his trek North, Kahurangi had mastered some incantations, emotional impulses from his grandfather nudging him one way or another towards greater success. The wilderness here was no different, the magic being very useful in protecting himself from beasts and against the cold temperatures.
After passing forests, rivers, and hills, Kahurangi set sights upon a settlement of sorts. Oleg's. He proceeded forth, trotting Chana towards a rest. A stream of optimism flowed from Chief Rongo who decided to get a better view from above. A tap of comfort in his consciousness let Kahurangi push forth without worry.
Leaving his saddle to greet a skeptical man, the young shaman introduced himself to whom he learned was Oleg. The man was skeptical to take him in at first, young and with a bizarre flying and glowing creature, but his opinions were fast modified by the wise half-orc's healing hands; Oleg had recently injured himself in repairs about the place, and a simple touch from Kahurangi was all that was necessary to heal them. It was good the landlord was focused on his wound and not his surroundings, for the momentary dampening of light may have concerned him...
The healing touch was the first of two talents Kahurangi had acquired aside from his potency with spellcraft since reuniting with his grandfather. He'd had a rather morbid dream where the talent had been instilled in him. Following suit, not too long after came another dream whereby he came into a second proficiency - "hopping" as he called it. Both of the dreams really seemed like trials, rites of passage one might say, taxing on his body. Yet he came out stronger as a result.
But here was the start of a trial in his awake state. From around a corner strode forth an unarmored human, sure of himself in his steps. In his hand was a wooden instrument Kahurangi had learned as a violin not too long ago in Quantium. He sure is handsome... Yet for his distracted nature, a flow of caution from Chief Rongo pulled him out of his daze and allowed the grandson to see an aura of dusk around the man. Not truly darkness, but it was almost as if the light struggled to grace his face. Conscious of his own interference with the sun's rays, Kahurangi found the matter of import.
He walked forward and extended a green hand.
"I am Kahurangi of the Riverfork Tribe. Oleg has decided to let me stay here as needed - provided I earn my keep." The young man smiled at this new mysterious person. "Are you one of the recent departures from Restov? I'm surprised a musician would be traveling out in these parts."
Marcus flipped the silver coin towards Prophet's side of the campfire, sending it bouncing across the stone floor, skipping and tumbling erratically until started rolling like a wheel, curving behind the Half Orc, and then around to the opposite side, slowing until it came to rest in front of him, balanced on it's edge.
Marcus just shrugged.
When Jhod hears Gallidren's voice, it's almost as if he snaps out of a trance. "It is good to see you as well," Jhod says, nodding slowly as he places the small pendant back around his neck. "I had a feeling you were coming; I have felt a lingering darkness that hung over the Greenbelt, I could see it as it crept outward through the forests when I slept at night... but the shadows have receded somewhat since I saw you last; they still cling to the dark places, but they no longer hover over us like a fog. I thought perhaps you and your group might have had something to do with that." Jhod sighs, and looks up into the night sky. "Your man, the hooded one with the bow, arrived the other day with hostages in tow. He told me you were tracking a werewolf... but now you're here, missing one of your number. Does he yet live?"
Annika sighs and just puts her head down. She has nothing to offer the fey at the moment. Perhaps she can find a better gift at the trading post if the fey are still feeling mischievous when they make their way back. "Good day Jho," Annika says as they arrive at the trading post. "Yes, I believe we've done the harder part of dealing with the trouble. It seems that the beast is sustained by whatever dark magic profanes the temples still and we've yet to fully put it down. I'm afraid that without your help, we might not be able to. Only someone who can restore the sanctity of the temple can finish what we started."
Marcus shook his head for the twentieth time to clear the cloudiness from his vision. "I really hate this place." he grumbled. "Hauntings are obnoxious."
He glanced at the violin. "I never got to learn to play anything. Some in my tribe were good and singing or drumming, but we didn't have many delicate instruments." Kahurangi's rough skin told the tale he'd been through, weathered by the elements and hardship of the situations he'd been in. However, the half-orc's well-articulated words spoke of a learned background that contradicted the primitive spears he carried with him. "Oleg told me I had to earn my keep, mainly by mending wounds. You are here as a minstrel then until we find those sent this way?"
Gallidren nods as Kilarra speaks. "We indeed could use your assistance killing the beast. Several of our party members remain at the site to guard the werewolf and keep it contained. We plan to return as soon as possible. Will you accompany us?"
Gallidren will then move on to the keep and will settle in for the evening.
In the morning he quickly dons his gear and prepares for the day's tribulations. If the newcomers are there, he will introduce himself and will esquire on their business in the Green Belt.
As Gallidren steps out from his room in the morning standing by the doorway is Creon.
"Observation: You have returned".
He pauses as if for the first time there may be some emotion that could shine through in Creon's next statement.
"Queries: Where are Prophet and Marcus? The wolf creature, did you discover its whereabouts?"
However, the Android's speech pattern is as devoid of emotion as it ever has been. Not counting of course Creon's harsh almost hateful attitude towards Bandits and Banditry.
You wake up cold and damp, lying on an outcropping of stone. As Marcus and Prophet get to their feet, just below them in the valley they spy what appears to be the ruins of some ancient city, with a river of molten lava trailing down the opposite hillside towards and at some points weaving through the ruins themselves. The wind howls incessantly against the stones and blows loose gravel and debris about wildly, and the sky above them is dark and overcast. To the north of them the ruined acropolis continues as it climbs up the side of a great mountain, its top blown away by what must have been a volcanic eruption, leaving the caldera to spew forth molten rock. Several flying figures can be seen flitting about the crater, but they're far too distant to make out any discerning features. As far as you can tell there's no sign of the werewolf, or anything else for that matter (other than the flying creatures), in the immediate vicinity. However, after a moment you get the same sense of foreboding that accompanied nearing the pool in the temple grounds, and while the inky darkness is nowhere to be seen it certainly feels as if such a thing would be right at home where you are now.
-----
In the morning, the group assembles outside in Oleg's courtyard, the old man himself out there as he hammers away on the stable. "'Ey, come 'ere!" he calls to the group, waving them over towards him. "It seems you lot're up to your necks in adventure, but I'm glad you stopped by. You've got a couple of guests here to see you, been earnin' their keep here for the past few days with whatever they could do for a few coins. But more importantly, word was sent to Restov that you all slaughtered the bandits that were causin' me troubles, and I've received a fair bit of coin and goods in order to keep up trade with ya'll. You can bring me anything you find out there that you want t'sell, and I can take it--they're even offering to send me extra coin if what you're carryin' is more expensive than what I can pay--and I'll have more goods for you too." He stands up from his position on the ground and stretches, an audible crack coming from his spine as he sighs with content. "Also, we're bound to have more travelers comin' through now with those lot causin' me trouble gone. I'd suggest stoppin' by when you can to see if there's anything they might need doin'."
"Oh, and you've got some visitors," he says, gesturing towards the guest house. "I'm not sure why, but they-- oh, here they come now!" As he speaks, the door to the guest house opens to the morning sun, revealing their visitors for the first time.
Jericho squints and blinks in the bright morning sun, and though he waves in greeting he does not immediately approach. He steps a short distance aside for a moment and faces the rising sun, his body language all but shouting that the light is painful to him. A medium-sized dog trots at his side, sitting beside him to wait. He takes a few moments to observe a Sarenite morning devotional before turning away from the sun.
With a small gesture and a muttered word he gathers shadows around himself creating a small bubble of shade that moves with him. Seeming more comfortable now, he stops flinching from the light and walks over to the group with a friendly smile, "Good morning, Oleg, and good morning to you all. Am I correct that you all are the group sent into this area to deal with the bandits and other dangers here? My name is Jericho Dask, formerly of House Lebeda. I have some skill in the arcane arts and if you will allow it, I would welcome an opportunity to join you in your task."
He is accompanied by a well-trained dog.
Standing off to the side and simply observing Jhod and Gallidren's then prayers. Nodding along with the explanation given, "Thank you Jhod. We will be ready to take you there after the sun has risen."
Moving to retire for the evening and rising shortly before the sun has has risen. Quietly stepping outside and finding a clear space that is hopefully out of the way. Kneeling down and facing the rising sun. Spending around twenty minuets in prayer, asking of guidance in this unique situation with the darkness.
Sitting a moment longer than need be to simply bask in the sunlight before rising. Brushing the dirt and grass from his legs before heading in to seek out Oleg, "Thank you for that. I would most assuredly like to make use of that. We has some issues with some overly friendly fey on our way back here last night. Would you happen to have some trinkets I could buy to offer to them in exchange for a an easier time?"
Looking Jericho up and down Nothing normal there. Offering the stranger a smile, "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Theodore Iscariot. Can I ask why you would want to go into those woods and risk your life like this?"
"Greetings and well met friends," Annika says with a wave of her hand. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance on this fine day. I am Annika Valarius, novice of the Aldori Order."
Kahurangi waited his turn as Oleg ushered the bandit-hunting party over to them; he was taught to respect his elders, and Jericho seemed among them.
"Annika and Theodore, a pleasure." Kahurangi bowed slightly.
"From the Riverfork Tribe, my name is Kahurangi. My request is similar to Jericho's, though it is prophecy that brings me here. I am uncertain if it is through you I will fulfill it, but my grandfather has helped me seek this area as that of its next step." The young half-orc scratched the back of a well-behaved platypus on his shoulder.
"In short, there is a rift in my tribe that may be healed by having them reunite in this land. That may sound odd, but it's less dangerous of a place than we've been in for some time." He smiled briefly. "From what I've seen in the River Kingdoms though, they have to deal with not just raw danger, but also deceit. Compared to you," he motioned towards those returning to camp as well as Jericho, "we are ill-equipped and under-learned. I cannot have them come to this region just to starve to be robbed. It is one reason why I must help you with the bandits - if you didn't finish them all off already."
The greenskin's black hair broke on his shoulders as he panned his eyes across those present. His own blue ones looked back at them, it being clear while he might not have the book-learning those having studied at an academy might, he had determination to improve on that deficit. "Could you tell us any details about your trip out there?"
Looking Jericho up and down Nothing normal there. Offering the stranger a smile, "It is a pleasure to meet you, I am Theodore Iscariot. Can I ask why you would want to go into those woods and risk your life like this?"
Jericho considers the question for a few moments. When he answers, his manner is serious and a flare of anger lights his eyes as he mentions his family, "My life has been risk. I feel there is the possibility of an opportunity that I have been wanting for a long time, and I hope to find it here. In short, my family has disowned me, and I have been looking for a way to prove to them that they made a poor choice. If there is any opportunity to do that out here, I must take it."
He takes a couple of deep breaths after he finishes speaking and seems to relax once more, regaining his friendly demeanor, "Besides, it will hopefully be more interesting than guarding caravans."
Gallidren nods to the newcomers. "Greetings, I am Gallidren Aerenduill. We've been chartered to clear the Green Belt of banditry."
He turns and looks pointedly at Jericho and Kahurangi. "We will need all the help we can get. If you are willing, I for one would gladly accept your assistance."
He will recount the events of the last several days for Creon and the others.
Kahurangi paused a moment before proceeding with his curiosity. "Are there many elves exploring the region?"
The shaman was surprised at the portion of the vigilantes with the fair folk in their blood, and this observation translated into mild concern, for his more rugged half was often at odds with them.
Marcus rubbed his eyes and looked around. "What the f$+@?"
"You seeing this?"
|
Another unsuccessful hunt. Three rabits and a duck, not at all enough for a follower of the Stag Lord, but the region didn't want to provide more... such are the ways of Eratil.
Where is the big hunt? I remember travelling through the region... when did I... about two months ago must be. The boars were majestic, indeed they were Jon. Perhaps the restless nature of the Stolen Lands has migrated here...
Used to long seasons alone with noone to talk but himself, and thanks to Erastil's blessings the animals he found, the ranger entered Oleg's Keep conversing with himself.
As he made his way towards the courtyard, his train of thought ws cut by the sight of a group speaking with Oleg himself.
Raising an eyebrow with curiosity, Jonathan walked closer with only a nod to Oleg when their gazes met as he listened what they were discussing.
Catching the presentation halfway through, Jonathan took off his hat and combed his long hair using his right hand, which was missing the little finger, before clearing his throat.
"By Old Deadeye's string, were I to try and hunt for a little longer I would have missed ye. Blessed be his love of timely appearances hahahaha!" the rugged hunter joked to break the ice as he cleaned his heavy looking jacket of the road's dirt, focusing on a seemingly invisible to anyone but himself stain on the flap. The man seemed to posses the kind of wisdom you find on old farmers who have endured twenty winters without flinching but before a group this size he was troubled coming with the words needed "By any chance are ye the group I heard about? Ye know... those who want to protect this region's communities." he continued before coughing a bit.
Ye didn't flinch when the bear bite off his finger and are now stuttering to speak against what seems to be friendly people?
The hunter straightened and did his best impresion of a formal bow. "My name's Jonathan Crestfallen, a humble servant of ye and Old Deadeye's, whose wisdom I try to carry and live by. I heard ye were stopping here from time to time and... well, I wanted to offer my help. Ye won't find anybody more capable on the far reaches. I'm a hunter as my father and his father were and Erastil's blessed me with a part of his essence, so ye could say my bow is as precise as it can get."
After speaking for so long Perhaps too long, Jonathan, they didn't need to hear yer whole lifestory hahahaha the man remains standing with his hands absent-mindedly tidying the rest of his clothes and making sure the rabbits and duck aren't bleeding on him.
Hmm, I did not expect that here. Returning the slight bow, "It is a pleasure to meet you as well Kahurangi."
Watching the half-orc talk and grinning, "That is certainly a noble cause." Turning back to Jericho and listening I almost feel back at home now.
"Thank you both for your answers. And there are a lot of varied people exploring this region." Spotting another headed this way and quietly listening to his stumbling explanation. Well it is certainly easy to become popular out here.
Nodding his acknowledgment, "It is also a pleasure to meet you. I am Theodore Iscariot." I suppose it does not matter since Gallidren is being so forth coming. I mean we could have talked about it some. I had no idea he was so friendly.
Jericho grins broadly at the acceptance, "Excellent! I will go collect my things." So saying, Jericho turns and heads back to the guest house, his dog pacing along at his side.
A few moments later, he must have been fully packed already, he steps back outside and heads for the stable. With a gesture and a word, the dog settles down next to the stable door to wait. Several minutes later he leads a beautiful chestnut out. All his gear looks to be neatly stowed and ready to go.
Sense Motive
"Statement: Welcome. There is more to be done to clear these woods of Bandits and their Leader.
Query: What is the purpose of that spell that seems to linger about you Jericho Dask?"
Creon turns to Gallindren, "Clarification: Are we now committed to return to Prophet and Marcus at their Camp or is there another task we must perform first?"
Sense Motive 1d20+1
"Statement: Welcome. There is more to be done to clear these woods of Bandits and their Leader.
Query: What is the purpose of that spell that seems to linger about you Jericho Dask?"
Creon turns to Gallindren, "Clarification: Are we now committed to return to Prophet and Marcus at their Camp or is there another task we must perform first?"
Jericho looks at the Android curiously, never having met one before, "It protects my eyes from the full brightness of the sun, which I find to be rather uncomfortable."
After a few moments, he grabs his sword and lets out a growling breath. "I'm guessing we'll need the Kordator on this one. You mind keeping a look out while I get ready? This takes a bit, but I'd rather wander around fire and brimstone land with a pissed-off spirit giving me strength."
"Pissed off spirit, huh? You sure we ain't related?" Judah said, half serious.
He gathered his pack and his spear and kept watch while Prophet prepared.
Deciding to follow suit with Jericho, Kahurangi trotted alongside. "This is Chana. Looks like our horses don't look too different!" He gave her a few pats and rubs before getting her to go. "That other one hasn't spoken yet. He seems a bit ... odd." That appraisal was a bit out-of-character for the shaman, himself being a conglomerate of abnormalities. Yet he'd never seen an android before. There was something just slightly ... off about it to him.
After returning with his supplies and horse, Kahurangi asked for the priest's benediction. "Jonathan, if you don't mind, before we bid off, could you give a few blessings for Chana and Chief Rongo?" The youth gestured towards his horse and platypus, respectively. "It would be good to know Erastil watches over them."
His grandfather grazed Kahurangi's ear with his bill, and combined with their link, the younger of the family knew his ancestor felt he was being superstitiously-protective. Oh, stop it. It couldn't hurt anything.
Gallidren nods at Creon. "Correct my friend, we need to return to the temple as quickly as possible to assist Prophet and Marcus with the werewolf. It is imperative that we clear the temple of the scourge of this beast. The temple must be restored - it is the will of Erastil."
He turns with some impatience to the others as he dons his gear. "Speaking of which, we really should get going. I fear for the safety of our friends. Let's pack up our gear and get moving."
Gallidren will purchase 40 arrows from Oleg and will restock his rations.
"And preferably before the werewolf breaks free and we have to beat it in to submission again," Annika adds.
"And preferably before the werewolf breaks free and we have to beat it in to submission again," Annika adds.
Kahurangi frowned. "There is no way to cure its affliction?"
Jericho's eyebrows climb in surprise, "There are others standing guard over a werewolf and a cursed temple?! We should not tarry any longer!"
Suiting actions to words, he swings up into the saddle, "These are Steak and New Boots." Jericho gestures at the horse and dog respectively. "Mind Steak's teeth, he does like to nip. New Boots is a good boy, though. I have mostly forgiven him, and now he knows his name he is stuck with it."
"It's... infected with something else. Some kind of dark magic infuses its entire body with shadows. It keeps it alive even through mortal wounds and drives it into a bloody rage. I don't even know if she's still conscious or if she's been reduced to pure instinct and anger."
"Had I been a faster student when I was younger, I might have been able to do something for her. It sounds beyond me though." Kahurangi's frown had internalized, now being disappointed with himself.
"Yes, let's set-out." As he hopped into the saddle, the young seer looked to the heavens for guidance.
The edges of Creon's mouth turn ever so slightly down at the mention of the will of Erastil, "Response. For the sake of our comrades I agree, we should return swiftly".
Gods. How can their spell over us to serve their will be broken?
A memory rises, once more unbidden, Creon forces it down shaking his head visibly. Must retain my focus here in the present.
"I don't know anything of this strange magic you believe to be maintaining this creature's life, but if the site can be consecrated with Erastil's blessing then I will do so. Hopefully, that's all you'll need to be done with this." He sighs, almost nervously, as you continue through into forested areas, before a series of acorns plop onto his bald head; the first in another series of tricks from the hidden fey. Before you may camp, the mischievous little creatures manage to muck up the feet of what horses you have--setting a trap with tree sap and leaves to do so--as well as dropping pebbles and other items into their clothes when they aren't looking. At one point, Creon adjusts his hood and a miniature rock slide tumbles down onto the ground. "Have you all angered some sort of forest spirit?" Jhod asks, his confusion evident in his voice, as he helps prepare camp for the night.
"What the... ok. Dreaming? I was tired, right?" Marcus closed his eyes and tried to force himself awake. Then he pinched himself.
Query. If we have angered these fey, what actions must be taken to have the fey desist?"
Jericho looks about with a mix of frustration and fascination, "I have never encountered the fey before. Are they likely to enjoy fine whiskey?" Jericho looks about for some kind of container.
He raises his voice slightly and speaks into the surrounding wilderness, "If you will kindly play your games with other travelers than us, I will share some of my whiskey with you."
"Not particularly." Marcus grumbled. He let out an exasperated sigh and started walking toward the tower.