Survival Make camp.
Stellan reaches the hilltop and looks around, seeing nothing of import, he starts setting up camp, building a fire that's shielded from easy sight, gathering reserve firewood to last the night, picking the spots for rest that are slightly concealed, picking camp guard spots that will see out better than be seen, etc. He will work with anyone else trying to prep. "I'm not much a cook, but I can boil water and such if need be, anyone with real skill?" Stellan asks the last with a bit of eagerness.
Udoeak shrugs. "We had Jeremiah going around with us, and he could cook fairly well, but I don't think most people are particularly keen on letting an alchemist cook for them. I could give it a shot, though.
Andrei smiles "I figure that at some point I am going to consume something you make, might as well start now."
Wondering up to the tree "This tree would make a great place for one group of bandits to leave messages is to other groups, I wonder if that any nooks or crannies that keep a piece of paper dry." He will look for such nooks or crannies.
"As long as the food and your extracts get made in different pots I don't see a problem," says Anwel with a small smile. His voice catches a little when he mentions food, however, and his eyes look wistful, like he's remembering the friends who have dropped out of his life. He keeps joking, but it sounds a little forced. "I don't want to wake up tomorrow big as a house!"
Anwel works one of his shoulders loose from his pack and lowers it to the ground. He kneels and pulls out some parchment, quills, and ink, and sets about his plan of trying to map just the area between where they were and where they had come from. He puts the trading post in the upper left corner of the parchment, works out his knuckle-scale again, and begins slowly working his way down the map. It's slow going, thanks to the featurelessness of the land and the lack of confidence Anwel has in his dead reckoning. The sooner he gets his hands on some real equipment from Oleg, the better. After a while, with the food nowhere near done, Anwel marks the position tree-topped hill with a symbol that looks like an upstretched claw, and puts the map away.
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Gorax watches Anwel as he fastidiously draws out the map, he walks over and looks over the elf's shoulder down onto the parchment. With a shrug he turns away again, returning towards Stellan "It don't make much sense, just a few scribbles and stuff? I'll see if there's any fresh grub around." and the big man cheerfully wanders across the grasslands.
Anwel scowls at the big man's all too accurate description of his painstaking work. He throws up his hands and spits his words at Gorax's retreating back. "There's a reason real surveyors use the tools they do. It's because they work and this doesn't. Not really. But someone in Restov thought it'd be clever to make us buy equipment we can't afford with coin we don't have."
The words are out, complete with sarcastic, biting tone, before Anwel can choke them back. He doesn't blame Gorax. The big warrior couldn't have known what a sore point it was for Anwel that they weren't getting any help, or the real reason for that wound. Of course, now that he'd blurted it out, Gorax, or any one of the others who heard and cared, might ask questions. Anwel mutters an indistinct, two-syllable phrase under his breath and clenches his fist. Hidden beneath the curl of his fingers, his fingernails seem to file down to points and dig into the skin of his palm.
Andrei comes over, "That would be because 'they' don't think we will succeed why waste money on people that will be dead soon. But I was planning to prove 'them' wrong. And once we have the whole world will know of us." Andrei gets out a book, ink and a pen out his pack and starts writing in the book.
Stellan's too busy with the camp set up to hunt, so if no fresh food comes in, he'll see about using any supplies brought with. He'll see to the horses as well of course. Since Udoeak is willing to do the cooking, he leaves that task to him, Stellan will inventory. Stellan asks, "We seem short on game and flora in this area, does anyone else have supplies brought with? I have a few meals of trail food but it won't last long divided between us." Stellan fusses about like a mother hen.
As the conversation turns a bit chilly, Stellan turns about and tries to see the problem. His eyes sweep over his familiar and Vinur heads to Gorax and Anwel.
Sense Motive: and add two, forgot a mod .Anwel, what's eating him?
Sense Motive: and add two, forgot a mod. Gorax, Just talk or is something deeper going on?
Stellan says, "The caravan master of the travelling folk once trusted me enough to show me his maps, they were beautiful works of art but it took him decades of effort to learn the skill and apply them. Unless it's a specialty with the tools needed, most just use itineraries, a journal, and let a skilled professional do the rest." Stellan frowns, "Anwel has a point though, this expedition seems a bit rushed, and haphazardly put together. The skill level is high and unusual in our group, but has little support otherwise. I was told other groups have been sent to other areas, we are the last. Maybe they ran short of funds? They talked about the lost of trade on the East Sellan, many have been hurt, putting down the bandits may restore some lost prosperity." Stellan bustles on, unaware of the deeper implications.
At Andrei's remark, Stellan replies, "I did not get that dark of an impression from them, myself, I think they are doing what they can, mostly."
Vinur feels his friend's concern about Gorax and Anwel and ambles over to them playfully. He barks and wags his tail, digging a little in the ground and doing mock charges at them. As he get close he sniffs at them as a canine will.
Almost any applicable roll (Arcana, nature, animal handling, etc) will note the interaction between the companions, though who is master and who is the familiar is not so clear. :)
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"Uh!" the big man seems surprised by the reaction, all the talk of support from the Sword Lords and equipment and skills. "Never did think them Lords gave us much anyway, other than grief. You fight for them, they take yer things in taxes. Now if I were a lord..." his voice tails, his eyes look wistfully at the sky. But as his heavy foot trips on a grey stone rutting out of the ground, he almost trip and reality strikes. "I's didn't mean no offence Anwel, don't be so touchy, I'm sure there are manys would like a good drawn map like that one. Is sure wees all come to use it and help us." as he tries to dampen down the emotion he brought out in Anwel, with his own blundering words. "Don't mean to insult yer skills or nothing." He thinks maybe the elf is upset with Gorax for not finding food, after an abortive search nearby. "Looks I knows things don't always goes to plan, I'm sorry about me hunt, but there just wasn't any game nearby and these plains are a bit short of plants I know can sustain us, Bojo nuts and the like. I'll find you something better tomorrow, really I will." rather crestfallen he starts to walk away not smelling the aroma of fresh caught fish or rabbits being cooked on the fire. "oh.."
Upon coming across Stellan's companion, he puts his hands out to the playful young wolf, "Comes here little fella." he beams at the creature, how could such a gentle and fun looking animal not want to be friends. I bet he'll forgive us not getting food in.
The party gathers around the tree to make camp. Fires are started, notes are scratched, maps drawn, and backpacks settled on the ground. The weather is peaceful enough, perfect for searching for some game.
Udoeak tries his luck with cooking recalling an old favorite recipe from times past. He thinks long to recall everything that it could require, all the while trying not to confuse this with his daily alchemical concoctions. With the fire started, he makes his way around the area, looking for something to eat.
Seeing him start to take off, Gorax takes off with him to assist in searching for something to eat.
Meanwhile, Andrei takes the chance to make his way up the tree to see what things he might be able to find. It's a tall tree so it takes you a few minutes. He uses caution as he climbs, checking each branch before putting his weight on it.
Anwel continues with his conversation with Gorax. The two playfully exchange their thoughts on "travel preparedness."
"My skills have nothing to do with it," says Anwel to Gorax, still obviously in a huff. His fist is still clenched and his shoulders are drawn in tight. He looks very uncomfortable. "Or yours, or anyone else's. Udo can tell you," he continues, shortening the other elf's name for the first time, "that I've made this point before, to the rest of the group the Swordlords sent us with. Maybe that's what scared them off." Anwel's lip curls ruefully as he admits that to himself. But his view has some more support among this group. Maybe there was hope for them yet. "Andrei's right: the Restovites don't really care whether we live or die out here. And he's right about something else: we keep on doing this, but we do it for ourselves, and the people living here, not for Restov." He refrains from commenting on Andrei's ambitions, confident that the others can divine his views on the matter.
Anwel turns to Stellan, his expression suddenly thoughtful. His hand relaxes and disappears into his sleeve*. "Maybe you're right that the Swordlords simply could not afford to equip us properly for the mission they set," he says. "But if that's the case, maintaining our autonomy becomes even more paramount. If Restov cannot protect us, we must protect ourselves." Anwel sighs. "Furthermore, I don't think our activities here will help trade too much, or enough to matter. The Shrike is an unfriendly river, and if Restov can't outfit survey expedition they certainly can't build the Stavian Arches of the north!" By this point Anwel's sarcasm, while still evident, has lost some of its bitter edge and the joking lilt has come back. He notices the white wolf playing with Gorax out of the corner of his vision, and for some reason finds it impossible to stay sore in the animal's friendly presence.
*
The dwarf shrugs, "I was given this charter and the opportunity to measure myself against this land. I ask for no more. I can understand maintaining some autonomy, but all our authority comes from Restov."
"I've got some dried food that you are welcome to."
"I suspect it isn't the Swordlords that wish us to fail. Politics in Bravoy is messy currently and there are some that need to be seen to be doing something about bandits but the bandits are actually useful to them. They would have known about this Stag lord and that he had dozens of men, yet they sent 10 of us. That said I consider we got lucky, we all some to be quite surprising skilful. Any way enough politics, we shouldn't need to worry about it for a while."
Andrei wanders back up to the tree, and has a look at hollow. "There seems to be a unnatural hollow over here. Might have been caused by an animal or someone might hidden some thing here. Did anyone bring a spade?"
Andrei will clear away to the grass around the hollow to look better.
Stellan raises an eyebrow at the bitterness shown by Anwel then just looks concerned.
Perception Is Anwel OK?
Stellan nods at Bimbur's words. "When I took the charter I agreed to uphold the Swordlords interests here, though it's a oddly vague and specific document at the same time. But autonomy we have. If we map the land and kill bandits, I do not think what we do otherwise will concern them. And I think they'd prefer that we live, though if we don't, I doubt they'll proclaim a week of mourning for us either. I not sure they knew the supposed strength of the bandits here only that it was enough to be a problem. Finding problems here is our mission."
Perception Hollow?
Knowledge Nature Animal den or grave or not?
"No I didn't, Andrei, we should get one for future use, I suppose." Stellan shrugs, "Take a stick and poke at it, maybe that'll tell you if there is something valuable in that place."
"You are right, there is no reason to have brought a spade, but this would make a great place to leave messages or even supplies and I've got nothing better to do. Thanks Stellan a stick sounds like a good plan." having not even thought of the fact that it might a grave Andrei goes over the pile of wood and sticks have been collected for the fire and selects a long thin one and started poking the ground.
"Looking at it more, I'm sure it's not a den, and very unlikely to be an animal grave, no supporting signs around it. Hmm, not sure what it is, besides not hollow; Andrei you're closer, is it maybe a dried mudslide?" Stellan scratches his head in puzzlement.
"Looks like its been tampered with to me rather than natural. Might as see if someone is using to leave secret messages or stolen goods, dinner looks like it might take a while so we should have some time.". Andrei will start digging at the patch, using the stick to loosen the ground and hopefully set off any traps and then his hands to clear the loose earth.
Andrei smiles "That is fine I'm just messing around while other people do something useful like find food and cook it. It is probably just where someone else dug up a edible root or deposed of leftovers."
"Well, if it's important to get it dug up, for whatever reason," says Anwel, dropping into sarcasm for the last few words. He does, however, draw open the top of his bag and looks inside to see if there's anything there that can help. "A spade isn't the only thing that can help. Just get creative." Anwel pulls a smaller back out of the larger one and empties the contents - a thick book with a deep black cover - so it hangs empty. "Something like this can push soil out of the way. A dagger could break it up. A shield can serve as a spade in a pinch." He proffers his bag to Andrei, since the hole looks small enough that two or more people trying to dig would be too many.
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"Use my shield, it won't help much but I can try." replies Gorax, mumbling and grumbling. "Just as easy to go back get a spade. Must remember, get a spade when we get back to the outpost." Gorax does his best with what's available, even though under his breath you can her him grumble, "Might as well send a boy to do a man's job.....hoighty toighty elves clever ideas, just tell someone else to do it .. "
Andrei takes Gorax's shield and grabbing by two hands, starts digging into the ground. The ground is a rough mix so progress is slow but he sticks with it until Gorax comes over and tries to "show him how it's done."
The two of them continue on for about some time. Gorax slams the edge of his shield into the ground and flings out the dirt. Andrei moves away the freshly turned soil with his hands, piling up what he can.
Smiling and a little surprised Andrei turns to Gorax "Nice." Then bruching off the dirt and turning to the others "You might want to have a look at this."
Picking up the spell book "I don't think the original owner of this would leave this in the ground to get wet. My guess is that was hidden by bandits."
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Gorax leans back, the sweat dripping from his brow, "I'm gonna go back and get a spade, its too difficult digging like this. Look at the state of my shield now." He watches as the others look over the contents of the box, "And it wasn't really worth it, I mean its a nice ring but the other stuff looks pretty useless. Maybe a nice new sword would have d helped us, not that old stuff."
"When it comes to object like that," Udoeak says, coming up from behind the men, "There is often more to them than meets the eye. Anwel, could you take a look at these? They certainly have potential, I think."
"Not at all my friend, Udoeak speaks true. I was not expecting to find anything and instead this book is one of the most treasured possession of someone. The other items may or may not be valuable. I have no doubt that Anwel and Stellan are much better than me at this."
Andrei will cast detect magic and look at examine the items for 3 rounds.
[ooc]That spellbook is going to be interesting to Anwel and I, and possibly Stellan, although if there are any crossover spells, Anwel should get the spell first so he can pass it on to whoever else can have it. That is, of course, if the spellbook is salvageable.[/b]
Bimbur looks surprised when the cache is unearthed.
"I would not have thought to dig under that tree. Well done."
Stellan walks over and takes a look.
"Well, that's a surprise. I'd be careful with that book, by itself it could be anything but found with a wand it implies a spellbook. However spellbooks are not part of my craft. Let Anwel take a look, carefully, he should be able to determine it's true value. I didn't prepare any spells useful to identifying items of power so if I were to do so, it would be tomorrow before I could help."
Stellan thinks for a moment and says, "I guess it could have been hidden by someone who wanted to keep it from bandits or something. Most bandits use or spend loot, they don't bury it. Still I'm sure quite a story is buried there too, likely a tragedy though."
At first Anwel hangs back from the growing knot of people around Andrei, Gorax, and their find. Since Andrei hadn't taken his bag, Anwel fishes his black book out of his pack and replaces it. Since Gorax stepped away, he plays with Vinur a bit, though he mostly watches the pup frolic rather than joining in. Eventually, though, he hears his name too many times to hang back any longer. He stands up and steps gingerly between Udoeak and Stellan as the latter finishes speaking.
"If it is a spellbook," whispers Anwel, not wanting to disturb Andrei, "then you are probably right about a tragedy. I would not part with mine without a fight." Anwel's eyes seem to harden from their usual cloudy grey to a glinting silver. He can just about see the items now, a silver ring, a short, polished stick of wood, and the thick tome in Andrei's hands. "I do, however, think this is a bandit cache. If you were parted from Vinur you would leave him with food and shelter, no? Well, a spellbook left alone demands a waterproof box or sheath. Its owner would have known a cloak wouldn't suffice."
Anwel waits for Andrei to finish his examination, though his body seems unnaturally rigid, like he's holding it in place. Maybe these items, tarnished though they are, could help him hide from or fight back against his mistress. When Andrei signals that he's done, Anwel approaches with slow, measured steps and sits down cross-legged. "Like Stellan, I did not expect to find such objects today," he says in a cautionary tone. "And also like Stellan, I can prepare better tomorrow. But I will try to learn what I can." He first takes the wand and holds it between his fingers, tracing the grain with his eyes and sensing its connection to the world. He does the same for the ring, though he tries to connect with the fluid crystal of the metal in that object's case. When he feels he's divined all about that he can, Anwel sets them aside and turns to the book.
This presents more of a challenge. Sheets of paper left out in the damp would tend to stick to one another. Anwel thinks for a moment, then his hand vanishes inside his sleeve. A moment later it emerges holding a pair of thin tweezers. Carefully, he inserts these in between the book's cover and the pages, and prises them apart without harming the pages too much. With his free hand, he snaps his fingers, and the front cover is suddenly dry. He repeats this procedure for each page that has writing on it, ending up with a few dry pages on the left and a sodden mass on the right. He then dries the rest of the book together, since blank pages would mean nothing to anyone. The tweezers dissolve into fine metal shavings, and Anwel sets to reading the text.
Stellan seems a bit surprised at Anwel's whisper but replies in kind, "Good point. I'd be more than upset at a separation from Vinur." Stellan watches as Anwel saves the spellbook from total loss and studies the items. So easy to get the right tool and dry out that book, I should be more noble but I do envy that. Stellan keeps his thought to himself. "Those items look interesting. But I'll not interrupt you." Stellan returns to his tasks.
The ring however does not strike you magical. Peering closer you confirm your thoughts when you see some faded markings on the ring - "To my dearest ..." and then its illegible. It must have been a memento that belong to a woman of some importance.
Lastly, you look through the spellbook and while its almost completely destroyed by the weather, there are a few spells you can make out. You find identify, mage armor, reduce person, silent image, and unseen servant.
After some time, Anwel completes his examination.
The excitement over, Andrei thanks Gorax and goes down to the fire and makes some more notes.
Anwel shuts the covers of the book, and the now bone-dry pages rustle against each other like leaves. He gathers all the objects up in his arms, and stands up. "You were right, Stellan," he says heavily. "This is a spellbook, and it looks like it was pretty extensive. By now, though, most of it's lost. I managed to recognize two spells from my repertoire, and to decipher three more.
"The first is a more powerful version of the spell Andrei just used. It helps the caster learn an item's purpose and function. The second is the opposite of a sp-" Anwel stops himself. He'd been reciting almost automatically, like he would in a session with Meldon or his mistress. He corrects himeslf. "an extract I've seen Udoeak use. It shrinks someone. The third creates an invisible, obediant servant.*" Anwel's voice becomes sharp and hard, and his tongue clips the words short, as he describes this third spell. His mistress conjured and kept such slaves, though Anwel suspects she used a different spell to do so. From what he'd seen in the book, the servants should be made like his invisible armor, while his mistress' had been of coiling shadowstuff.
"I would like to scribe these spells so they will not be lost," says Anwel. "The book is still fragile. But I don't have the materials or tools.** Still, I believe I can keep it safe and dry until I do." Anwel stoops slightly and places the book on top of his pack, where it balances with uncanny poise. He then stands up and holds out the wand.
"I used something like this in the war," he says. "The use of ash in its making is unmistakable. It makes fire." Anwel pauses for a moment, as if thinking something over. "Well, it's more complicated than that. What it really does is create energy from nothing. This heats the air and causes something in it to burn. I'm not sure how powerful this wand is or how long it will last, but we should get some use out of it.***" He shoves the wand into the thick gray sash that serves as his belt.
"This last," he says, holding the ring up so it glints in the light, "is not enchanted, though I suppose it is possible to enchant someone with it." He smiles, and twirls the metal loop in his fingers. It disappears, and Andrei suddenly feels its weight on his hand. "Make sure it goes to your dearest," he says jokingly, and the inscription 'to my dearest' flares bright white for a moment. Still smiling, Anwel stoops down again, this time to put the new spellbook in the bag with his own. He briefly regrets not having anyone in his life to whom he can give the ring, but that had been decided for him long ago.
Interesting. If you were to inscribe those first, I might be able to translate them into formulae, and possibly make extracts of some of them. The size reduction spell I'm certain shouldn't be a problem, but I am unsure of the identification.
As the wand's use is revealed, Udo shrugs, and as the ring is brought out, Udo returns to tending the fire and cooking, lost in thought.
Andrei listens quietly nodding occationally, when Anwel is done he asks "Mind if I have a look at the ring again. There is someone who would probably like it back." Examine the ring carefully to see if he can read the rest of inscription.
"Anwel and Stellan, I've heard of magic that can trace an individual from a item that is important them can you trace the giver of this ring, assuming they did not also die?"
Anwel freezes for a moment as Andrei brings up the subject of magical traces and observation at a distance. The waterproof bag containing the spellbooks slips out of his grasp and, fortunately, into his pack. What payback!
"No," he says in a tone that is meant to be firm but which has a clear nervous under-warble. What did Andrei know? What would Anwel tell him if he pushed? "I cannot do this thing. It is very powerful magic." Anwel obviously doesn't want to talk about scrying. He tries to change the subject.
"But sometimes ordinary knowledge holds where magic fails, Andrei. Do you know who the ring might belong to?"
Stellan gives rueful shrug. " In these lands predicting tragedy is no feat, maybe we can change that."
After Udo speaks Stellan continues, "Same with me as Udo, Anwel could teach me but spellbooks are a riddle that take many years of training to make use of. I know I can learn most divination magics given time."
When Andrei speaks of location divinations Stellan gives a start and then looks very sad. Slowly adding his words to Anwel's, "Those are powerful magics, ask me again in a decade or two. Even then they may not work here, The Stolen Lands are strange and often such magics do not work at all. The best practitioners of such magics are Harrowers or your fellows in the arts. As for mundane means ask back at the trading post. If Gorax is serious about going back for a spade he could take it there. I'd wait till the next convenient time but to each his own."
Andrei also reacts slightly to anwel's percieved fear and suggestion of mundane methods by reaching up and touching his shirt in the middle of chest.
"I'm sorry about my ignorance of magic, while I am able to do a few minor acts I have never studied it and hadn't realised that these powerful magics were so evil. Thinking on it, it dooes seem like these magics are usually used by the Evil Queen or Assassin to find their victim. If talk of such evil magic distresses you we need not talk of it again." Andrei looks thoughtful and then flashes a grin. Magic like that would be very useful for finding the regent when the time comes.
"As Stellan says, there is no harm asking at the trading outpost, Happs or Oleg might know something. I have heard many stories that involve the giving of rings but off the top of my head I can't think of any with that inscription. I don't think Gorax was serious about going back, particularly since we have dug our hole now."
Bimbur is not very interested in the book, but the ring is interesting to him. "What does the ring do?"
Anwel nods at Andrei and answers his grin with a small, rueful smile. "Thank you. Like Stellan said, we can wait some time before discussing such things." A decade or two isn't as much time for Anwel as it might be for the witch or the duelist, but it would also be a long time for his mistress, unless she abandoned the twilight of magic for the truly dark.
"As for the ring, Bimbur," says Anwel, "It's a pretty bauble but doesn't do more than exist." As if reminded of soemthing Anwel walks over to the oak and lays a hand on the lightning-scarred trunk. He looks deep in thought, or in prayer. His lips move slightly, as though through a liturgy, but even if you can read lips, the words seem unfamiliar, the sounds coiling, insinuating, and strange.