Prophet snorts. "It's your 'duty' to protect your damn self, and it's good fortune that brings someone else to help you. But I agree--if there's a village out there nobody knows about but bandits, that spells trouble for everybody there. And it may lead us to more information about the damned Stag." The half-orc leans back and sniffs. "Drink today, battle tomorrow, then? Set out at first light for that village? Unless you want to travel at night."
With the party in agreement to investigate the village, a few minutes later Svetlana emerges from the kitchen with more food for the whole group. Theo leads any among the group who care to join in a prayer to Sarenrae for their good fortunes before digging into the meal and celebrating their victory. Not long after the group heads off to the guest house, to rest up before they head out towards the bandit camps and the village they've heard so little about.
-----
"What business have you got here, stranger?" The group wakes to some shouting from the guards, already at their posts for the morning. Kreston in particular seems to be interrogating some man seeking entrance to the trading post. When you emerge from the guest house, you can spot an older man standing across from Kreston, wrapped in traveler's robes and carrying a gnarled walking stick. His hood is pulled back, revealing the face of an older man, his thin brown hair clearly ceding to his scalp. A scar mars his one cheek, and even beneath the robes it is obvious the man is older and frail compared to the young guard captain. He stands just inside the walls, and while none of the guards have pointed weapons at the men, all of them seem on edge.
"I heard there were men and women here from Restov, another expedition, and I figured this would be a safe place to stop in my travels. Where better to stay than with those strong enough to attempt such a feat? Besides, I am tired, and my horse needs stabling." The man holds his horse's reigns in hand, a young black-haired mare. "I am an old man, and tired. This is a trading post, is it not? I have skills I might sell, if nothing else would persuade you."
Annika frowns at the sight of the old man. "No need to get too aggressive Kreston," she says, approaching the pair. "At least let him introduce himself before you start demanding to know his business." She turns to the older man and inclines her head. "Annika Valarius. And who might you be?"
"My name is Jhod Kavken, miss. I don't mean any harm, I'd just like to rest my old bones here for a while." Jhod reaches into his collar, pulling out a brass pendant in the shape of a bow and arrow; Erastil's holy symbol. "I've been wandering a while now, before I felt a call to this place from Ol' Deadeye. I don't know what he wants me to do here, but I think it's important. That said, after a long ride through inclement weather I'd like to sit down and enjoy a hot meal." Behind Jhod, his horse stomps at the muddy ground, neighing softly as the light drizzle seems ready to pick up into yet another downpour. "I'd imagine she'd like some stabling as well. I'd like to get both her and myself underneath a roof before this storm picks up again, if possible." Just as he speaks, you can hear the low rumble of thunder picking up again, though you don't spot the flash of lightning. Jhod sighs, looking at Kreston again while arching his eyebrow expectantly.
"Alright, fine. You lot take him to Oleg, will you? Get the man a bed and a warm bowl of soup, I'd bet the dampness hasn't done his old bones any favors." Kreston looks irritated, but nods his head for his men to move back away from Jhod and his steed. "You and I both know we can't be too careful," Kreston says to Annika, looking out towards the woodlands. [b]"Bandits aren't above hiring or threatening an old man into giving them information if it suits them.
Creon stares at the old man. Another god-lover! If only they could see my memories, through my eyes.
"Ah, one of Erastil's followers. Truly, the Greenbelt must be a great place for you. Or perhaps it would be better if there were less bandits about." She chuckles. "Well, we can finish introductions when we're not being rained on. Come. I'm sure that Svetlana will have something cooking for breakfast."
Gallidren watches Jhod wearily, "Greetings, I am also a follower of Erastil. I would like to hear of your experiences so far in the Greenbelt."
Prophet eyes the old man suspiciously, but it's founded more on his general mistrust of strange travelers than any specific response to this individual. "Aye, bring him in. What skills have you, elder? Beyond disturbing sleep and proclaiming faith."
After the old man leaves Holgar mutters almost to himself, "Tat man 'ad guilt all ova 'is face. But wat's he guilty of? Eiter way, we should keep an eye on tat one."
"Me, I'm not..." Jhod looks concerned for a moment, then sighs. "I have my fair share of guilt, friend. Not many people my age don't... but that isn't any concern of yours." He walks with an uneven gait, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Before they enter the house to speak to Oleg, he stops for a moment. "That said, if any of you might have it in your hearts to help an old man ease his conscience... I might be able to repay you." He gives you all a cold smile, sighing a bit. "There's an old temple to Erastil out there in the Greenbelt; it's why I'm here. The head of an elk jutting out from an old, carved ridge of rock... something is wrong there. I don't know what it is." Shaking his head to clear it, Jhod sighs and looks forlornly to the party. "I don't know what's happened there, but I know I've been drawn here to fix it."
Gallidren becomes alert upon hearing of the temple of Erastil. He look's knowingly at Creon and then turns back to Jhod, "Aye, we have some experience with the temple that you speak of. Yes, there is definitely something amiss with the ruins."
Gallidren turns to the group, "I too would like to liberate the temple of Erastil from whatever malevolent spirit haunts it. If you are willing to pause in our prosecution of the bandits, I think Creon and myself could lead us back to the ruins."
Prophet frowns at the mention of 'something wrong' in the temple, and he shakes his head at Gallidren's suggestion. "Look, don't get me wrong. Erastil's a powerful god here, and I'd love to be paid for my time, but we know next to nothing about that place, and if the old man's been called to fix it then why should we get involved? It's his task." The half-orc taps the table. "You were all excited to rescue some poor villagers, probably for no payment at all, and now you're springing to go exploring some cave on the word of some graybeard?"
Creon looks from one to the other. "Assertion: I consider myself no friend of gods, but if Gallidren wishes to return to the temple, then for our friendship I will follow."
"I understand your misgivings, but I'm not of the adventuring sort. I'm an old man, and I likely won't make it back if I were to travel on my own. You lot, on the other hand, you seem like you're forging a path out here." Jhod sighs, still leaning heavily on the stick. He straightens up, clearly a bit of an effort for the old man. "I'd do what I can to repay you, and it might even be on your way to the... village you're seeking."
"Leaving a sacred temple in danger or defiled is simply wrong. If we can help, I'd say that we do. Surely Erastil would want his temple purified, even if Jhod can't do it entirely on his own. Though a reward for a good deed done is always welcome."
"I'm not a rich man, but I've spent long years in service to Old Deadeye, and I have some skill to show for it. Once the old temple is cleared, I might need to journey there myself to cleanse it, but that's likely better left until after you've returned." He sits down at one of the benches in the trading post, his walking stick in his lap. "I know it's an odd request, but I don't have many other options. Erastil showed me visions of that temple, but he didn't call me there; he called me here. He knew I'd need help."
"If Erastil believes that you need aid to complete this task, then it's hardly our place to deny it. Though... I must ask. Surely he would want you to help with the cleansing. Unless there was something more to this vision."
Gallidren nods, "I say we clear the temple. Jhod is welcome to join us if he wishes. Once the temple is secure, we can head to the village. Does anyone strongly disagree?"
Creon nods in agreement. "Assertion: then let us go. We have tarried here long enough."
"Just think helping a village full of people would be higher priority for some of us than tramping around in a cave for who-knows-what." Prophet shrugs. "Either way suits me fine."
"Aye ah'm inclined ta agree wit mean an' green, we can do more ta help te living ten those tat don't currently have an eart'ly body. On tat note, you wouldn't 'appen to know anyting about te village tat may 'elp us would ya old man? Maybe you'd like to come wit us to 'elp out te village? "
"I... I actually think this might be the first time I agree with your point Prophet," Annika says. "The temple is certainly important, but if there are people in danger, they might need our help first. Of course, the temple is also on the way to the village so we'd be going right past it on the way." She shrugs. "Both objectives are worthy. I'm fine doing them in whatever order we choose."
Gallidren shrugs, "To the village then. We'll clear the temple on the way back."
"The village? No, I shouldn't... you all ought to set out as soon as you're able, and I'll need my rest. Waiting for me just puts those poor folks in danger." While Jhod isn't lying, at this point it's pretty obvious that he's not telling you the whole truth, either. The subject of the village clearly makes him uncomfortable, but he doesn't seem too keen on sharing his reasons. "Besides, I'd just slow you all down. Better for me to come with you once you're all in a bit less of a hurry."
"Cleansing the temple is a noble cause, but those in the village need saving first. Communities such as that are sacred to Erastil, after all." Theo chimes in after having been silent for some time, his hand resting on the pommel of his longsword. "Whatever's weighing on your conscience, it can wait for us to clear the temple," he looks to the others, head tilted as he asks for a consensus. "Right?"
Prophet shakes his head at Annika's comment. "It's not my point. A village is a village. Everything out here is dangerous and folks should know that. But you and the diplomat here seemed set on helping anyone and everyone we could for the sake of it." He shrugs. "Me, I think a village might be more likely to reward us for help."
The half-orc stands up and stretches as the others seem to commit more towards this path, but his eyes narrow as it becomes more and more apparent that Jhod is hiding something. When Theo speaks up, Prophet steps toward the old man. "Aye, it can wait... unless it's something we should know beforehand." He approaches the elderly traveler and folds his arms, glowering over him. "What aren't you telling us, wanderer? If we get killed out there, it'll be on your head if what you know could save us."
"Just an old man's regrets, I'm afraid." Jhod seems unwilling to say anymore on the topic, but you're all fairly certain whatever he's withholding is something personal. "Nothing I could tell you would save your hide anymore than that sword on your back, I'm afraid. It's much like you said; everything out there is dangerous. You lot best figure out where you're going, and get moving. I don't think that storm's quite done with us yet." As Jhod speaks, you all begin to feel the light downpour as it begins to drizzle again. "But if you make it to that village... there's a small temple of Erastil there, only a few people tending to it. If it's still standing, tell them I'm sorry."
Annika sighs. "Honestly Prophet, I don't care why you're doing good things at this point. You clearly don't care about helping people from the goodness of your heart, assuming you even have any at all. But if a promise of reward is needed to get you to do what is necessary to protect people, then fine. I'd rather have the greedy mercenary on my side and have him still be greedy than expect him to help because it's the right thing to do and be disappointed when he won't."
She looks over at Jhod. "I honestly don't know what has you so worried about this village, but it doesn't seem like something that will harm us. If you did something to wrong them, then perhaps helping to purge Erastil's other temple of whatever threatens it is some sort of divine penance. I can't speak for a god that I don't follow, but it seems like the kind of thing he might do."
"So! I suggest we get a move on. There are bandits to kill and townsfolk to help."
Gallidren nods at Annika, "I agree. Let's move out."
Creon also nods at Annika. "Qualified Agreement: yes, but I would prefer we kill the bandits this time, not adopt them. As for the village, I care little for the reward, but if our mission here is to retake these lands then every one of these problems - the village, the bandits, the temple - must all be addressed eventually. At any rate, we have a plan; let us go."
After about seven hours of travel, the party once again heads back into the forest, opting to take the northern route around towards the village. As Jhod predicted, the weather quickly takes a turn for the worse as the storm you rode through yesterday picks up once again. The crashing of thunder echoes through the glade as the lightning brightens the sky. As the party makes camp at the end of a long day's riding, the group hears a cry of pain from Annika at the edge of the small clearing they've decided to stop in for the night. A few moments later, another can be heard from Gallidren as well, not far away. Upon investigating, the party finds the both of them with their ankles caught in a pair of bear traps, staked into the ground only a few feet away by a metal piton and a length of chain. While not life-threatening, the metal teeth have sunk deep into the muscle of their legs, immobilizing them for the time being.
With only a cursory glance of the area, Prophet finds yet another trap near their camp, and takes a moment to trigger the pressure plate with a nearby stick. "Oh my," Theo says under his breath as he finds the two of them caught in the traps. "Aren't trappers supposed to mark their locations for those passing through?" he remarks as he bends over to inspect the trap embedded in Annika's leg. He gives the jaws of the trap a good tug, but doesn't seem to be able to pry them apart, and opts to stop for the moment rather than have the jaws potentially dig farther into Annika's calf muscles.
"Observation: if there were trappers here they would have been trading with Oleg, and Oleg might have told us about them. I suspect they are not trappers. Not in the commercial sense, at any rate."
Creon attempts to pry open the jaws around Gallidren's leg.
Annika grumbles slightly as the rain storm just gets worse and worse. "There weather around here can't be this bad all the time, can it?" she questions. "Surely." She pulls her hooded cloak tighter around herself and tries her best to ignore the constant downpour. She's rather grateful when they finally make their way to a suitable campsite. She tries to bite back a scream as the trap slams shut around her legs "Son of a..." She drops to one knee, biting back another cry.
Gallidren grits his teeth and attempts to assist Creon with opening the trap.
Prophet set off with the others shortly after the decision was made. After only a short while down the trail, he reached around and pulled his greatsword from its sheath, as well as the candles from his bag. "Have to do it on the move again," he muttered, then looked up to the rest of the party. "Excuse me while I do this. I should keep up fine, just don't expect me to say anything for a little while." With that, he closed his eyes and began to hum.
After several minutes of this, the half-orc begins taking the candles in hand from where they were balanced on his shoulders. At the same time, his hum turns to a chant once again, low and calm at first. It grows with time though, and escalates a little with each candle placed--this time by wedging them onto the edge of the blade. He doesn't press them hard, and by all rights it doesn't seem that they should stick, but they remain in place as he lets each go. Once all are placed, he reaches into his bag and pulls out the flint and incense. These he runs along the sword's surface in the same manner as the last time, chanting as they scrape along six times. His eyes open as he brings it up again, and anyone looking can clearly see that the orbs are milky white.
The seventh strike lights the incense, and he slowly and unerringly lights each candle. Finally, he places the incense on the tip of the sword, where it balances despite the precarious position. At this point Prophet drops the flint back into his bag and grips the hilt with both hands, ceasing his chant as though waiting.
M̷̕a͘l̨̨͡ą̵z͏̷̢ ͜T̢͏a̡͢r̷̢ņ͝͡. Y̶̷o̷͢ú̸ ̶̀c͟a͏l̸̀͟l͝͏ ͟a̡̧ǵ͝ai͟n ͡s͏͢͡o͜͜͏ ̵͢͟s͏o̕ơ̸n̛.͝ The Kordatar's voice is as strong as ever, but more sated this time. Pleased to be welcomed again.
There is always danger in the world, Kordatar. There is always a place for the strong of heart and arm.
T̴͟h̢e ̵̸A̸n͝҉g G̷̛͘i̸̧j̡a͜k̷͝͠-͏I̴s̢͝h̡͘͠i̷.͡ Th̨̨̛e̵̷҉ ́͘͞ć̸h̶͠ild͝r̶͜e͜n ͢ó̡f̀҉ ̸̡̛w̢͢aŗ.͘ ̀Ý̸o͜u̵̢͟ ̢͘t̴̡͞h͏in̶k̵̡͡ y͜o̴̕u̡͡r̷s̀e͏l̀f̷͏ ̴͟͝on͜e ́͜o̧f͝ t̸h͝ę͜s̢e,́͢ ͏c̵h̷i͟l͝d̵̷ ͝o̷͟͢f ̸͏͢M̴a̢͘ń̨͞?̶̢ The voice takes on an almost threatening tone, but Prophet is used to this.
I think you are the greatest of them all. You are the champion of the Angijak. You are the power of the blood and the spirit. Between us we will take blood.
A pause, and then: A͜͠s̶̨̛ḩ́d͜a̡u̷t͘a̛͠ś ̛͡v҉̸r̸a̷҉su̶̕͜b̡̨a͝t͘l͘͏a͏t͢,͏̨ ̷͡͏M̴͠al̢͘͠a̷̧̛z͘ ̶̨T̷҉ąr͜n̸.̢̨͢ The sign of appeasement from the Kordatar.
Nar udautas.
With that, Prophet opens his eyes, and they are once more their customary amber. "Mi͝r͢dautas̡ vr̛a̕s."
At the camp, Prophet curses as he hears the shouts of pain, and he glances over to see the elves clutching at their legs. He quickly scans the area and triggers another trap with a nearby branch, then strides over to the injured travelers. "Ma̶ba͏j͢ b̡ot ob̡ ͞arm̸a̡uk," he mutters, kneeling down before Annika's trap and placing his hands on it. "T͞his wįl͟l͠ hur̴t́ lįk̢e a͡ ́ẃhor͠e."
Prophet leans down, grasping both jaws of the trap in his hands as he grunts and struggles to pull them apart. As the teeth of the bear trap begin to pull away from Annika's flesh, Theo grabs one side of the trap while Prophet shifts his grip, and the two manage to pry the mechanism open. "Lady Saerenae, I ask again that I might borrow your healing light to aid my comrades," Theo says, placing his hands on Annika's wounded calf. While her wounds are not entirely healed, Annika feels a soothing warmth spread through her muscles as the gaping holes left by the trap begin to close, and the flow of blood is stemmed as the small puncture wounds left form together and begin to scab. "It isn't fully healed, by with a good night's rest all you should have to remember this by is a nasty scar." Theo glances up at Prophet, having noticed him spring the other trap. "Still, someone must have set these."
The paladin walks over to Gallidren, aiding Creon and the elf to release his own trap, and places his lightly glowing hands on the wizard's calf as well. "The woods here must be full of these; we'll need to find them, or at least be cautious as continue on tomorrow. We can't afford to be caught in these again, not if we're aiming to take on another bandit camp."
Annika groans as the trap releases her foot and stumbles back a pace, getting her leg well away from the steel trap. "Thank you," she says simply as Theo heals her wounded leg. "If anything goes wrong, I should be able to take care of it from here myself." She stands up straight, testing her weight on the leg for a moment to be sure that she can walk correctly. "This is going to be a hassle trying to get through," she mutters, looking out into the trees. "A serious hassle."
Creon looks pensive, as the others nurse their injuries. "Suggestion: I can scout ahead and establish a safe path through this area. I assume if I take sufficient care I should be able to spot most of these traps. If, say, Prophet comes with me then in the case where I do get caught we have a backup plan."
"That's probably best left until morning, but it sounds like a solid plan," Theo remarks, stretching near the fire. "We'll need to be well-rested for our ride later tomorrow, since it looks like the storm will be keeping up at this rate. For the time being, we should just make sure there aren't anymore near the campsite." It's fairly easy to search the rest of the area, and it appears your immediate location is safe for now. "Assuming nobody objects, I'll take first watch for the night," the paladin says, rolling a log closer to the fire. He sits down, pulling his longsword from its sheath and running over the blade with a whetstone. "If you all need rest, I can take this shift alone, though I'd appreciate the company."
"Assertion: Friends, I suggest I take the second shift - that is probably a more efficient use of my night vision. I can take it alone, but it might be more efficient to pair up."
"I can take either first or last," Annika adds. "My vision's better than most humans, but I can outright see in the dark. Best I keep watch when there's a little light to help me out."
"I can see in the night, and waking up between a full sleep will keep my spirit at the ready." Prophet sets his things down and looks around. "I'll take second or third, or wherever you need me. Wake me whenever."
Ş͢l̢e̷͢ep?̢ ͝No̵w͡?́ ̸̀W̛i̸̕͞t̨͠h̀ớu̶͘t̨ ̶́͜a͟ǹ̵y̵͏ ͢a̵͟c҉tiǫ̵͞n̕ ͜mór̸e̵̛ ͏͏ţh͢a̶͟n ̢͜o͝p̸͡e͠n̡͘i̡ņ̴g ̧a͟ ţ͏r̸a͢p ̕o͜n̛͝ ̨̕͏a̷͠ ̧͟l҉̨͝u̢lg̡͞i̵jąk̸̵'́͢s͢ l҉҉̸e̢̧͞g?̀҉ The Kordatar's voice echoes in Prophet's mind as he lies down, and the half-orc has to force it out.
I think I can promise blood and battle tomorrow. Vrasubatburuk ug butharubatgruiuk.
The medium has a sense of wary appeasement. V̢́ę͏r̵y̧̡͜ ̶͞we͘҉̧lļ̕.̀͡
Gallidren rubs his ankles and nods at Prophet, "Thank you brother."
Gallidren will take either the first or last shift, depending on which shift Annika takes.
While the party keeps diligent watch as the night goes by, they don't run into any problems with men nor beasts while camped; likely something to do with the large amount of traps set and placed. The night drags on, punctuated by frequent bursts of thunder as the storm rages overhead, drenching anyone on watch or not in the safety of their tents. By the morning, however, the storm finally seems to have passed as you all break camp. For several hours, Creon forges a path for the group through the wilderness and the myriad of traps, steering you all away from any potential trouble.
However, you all soon start to hear what seems to be the call of an animal in distress; anyone with knowledge of the natural world quickly identifies it as the call of a deer or stag. If you investigate the source of the noise, you come upon a brilliant white stag with its leg caught in a bear trap. The animal struggles helplessly against the jaws of the trap, blood staining its leg as it writhes and pulls. The beast hasn't noticed any of you yet, although if you draw close enough it will likely see you.
Creon moves forward to the stag and attempts to free it before it can do itself more harm, while motioning the others to help.
Gallidren will assist Creon with the trap. "Carefull, these wild beasts are easily spooked."
"Then we'll be careful when we help it free," Annika says, carefully following after Creon. "But it still needs help."
As the three members of the party attempt to free the trapped animal, it kicks and rears until it lays eyes on Gallidren, at which point the beast is still enough for you all to pry the trap off of its leg. The beast snorts as it pulls its mangled leg clear of the trap, before you all catch a detail you missed; the stag's eyes. Instead of the eyes of a normal stag, pure golden orbs hover in the beast's sockets. It glares at the party before its eyes settle again on Gallidren; the wizard feels a pressure in his skull when he locks eyes with the stag. He sees again the head of an enormous stone elk over a placcid lake, but the scene now drips with an inky darkness.
The words reverberate through the clearing, ringing in your ears as the stag rears up on its hind legs, the blood dripping from its wound now black and sickly. Still bleeding, the stag lands on all fours, and lowers its head as it charges from the clearing. A trail of black blood leads farther into the forest, but even before your eyes it begins to dissolve into the earth. While Theo is either too distracted to notice or simply not as well schooled in religions other than his own, both Annika and Gallidren recognize the similarities between this beast and Erastil's herald, the Great White Stag.
Annika jumps back as the stag rears again. Her eyes meet the stag's and she feels something... unearthly behind them. And somewhat familiar. "What in Shelyn's name..." She shudders at the stag's voice, if it can be called that, reverberates through the clearing. "Wait!" she calls out after the beast as it disappears. "What disease?" But the stag is gone. "Could that have been... but why would the Great Stag be here?"