Ezekial tumbles away from the raven and delivers a punishing slash to Tartuk with his kukri. Connor continues to attack from the kobold's flank but his unable to hit with his battle axe. Seres steps up and slaps Tartuk with an enchantment. Aldarion provides Ezekial with divine guidance.
Tartuk tilts his head back and laughs maniacally as he steps 5' to the wall and draws two wands. Tartuk's raven familiar darts at Connor and attempts to scratch at his face, but is unable to penetrate his helm.
Seres turns at the raven and blasts it with an electric jolt
;
;
Connor bats at the Raven, annoyed.
Ignoring the dirty little bird, the would be knight moves to follow the kobold setting up another flank.
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The gardener whirls his sling high, then releases a bullet. Alas, the bullet succeeds only in impacting a loose stone on the ceiling, releasing dust and small pebbles to the ground.
He loads another bullet, and crosses his fingers...
Ezekial squeezes into a likely flanking position versus Tartuk and holds for Connor to move up to the opposite flank. Connor swats at the raven but the bird dances away from his axe. The cavalier then moves up to engage Tartuk but is unable to hit the nimble kobold. Ezekial likewise also misses the sorcerer. Seres points to the raven and blasts it with an electrical jolt that sends it hastily flying away down a side tunnel. Aldarion fires at sling bullet at Tartuk but the shot is wide.
Tartuk's maniacal laughing turns into howls of anger. "You will soon learn to fear the dark gods of this land!"
Focusing to maintain his concentration, he points a finger at Connor - a flash of arcane energy suddenly fills the cavalier with irrational fear.
"I don't fear the Gods. I put my faith in them to do the right things by me!"
Connor swings halfheartedly as the kobold opens himself up and then follows up with an overhand swing.
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"What if I already fear them?" Seres asks, stepping back into the melee to try and keep the shaman pinned.
With a final slash of his kukri Ezekial drops Tartuk to his knees. The purple scaled kobold grips his mortal wound and looks Ezekial in the eyes as he whispers, "Death is a release from this prison ..."
With a sigh he breathes his final breath.
Chief Sootscale nods his respect to you as Tartuk falls, "He and his gods were a cancer on this tribe. You may claim his possessions as your reward."
He then solemnly approaches you, "From this day on, I declare the Sootscale tribe to be your unwavering allies. Call upon us, and we will come to your aid!"
You note that Tartuk has a master craft, cold iron sickle, a wand, ornately wrought bracers, and a journal. The kobold soldiers point you to the cavern which Tartuk used as a lair.
|
Unsure how to properly react Ezekial bows and tells the chief In honor of this day and our new alliance I shall learn the language of the Sootscale tribe. You may likewise call upon me if you are ever in need.
Ezekial will examine Tartuk's gear. Looking at the sickle he tisks that it is of small size. Perhaps we can trade it back at Oleg's he thinks. He is unsure what to think about the bracers and wand but will page through the journal. If it is in common he will skim it but if its written in Draconic he will say This journal shall be the textbook from which I shall begin to learn this worthy language.
After this Ezekial goes to search Tartuk's lair.
Ezekial, Chief Sootscale is obviously taken aback and impressed with your desire to learn draconic. As you hold up Tartuk's journal, the chief frowns, "It is good that you desire to learn the true tongue, but that is not written in draconic. The shaman spoke a strange cant while with his vile bird. Perhaps it is in that language."
The chief nods to Mikmek, "Teach him the ways and language of the Sootscales. Ensure our friends return safely to their settlement."
As you lower the book a folded paper falls out. Opening the parchment you see that it is covered with arcane symbols.
Within the cavern that served as Tartuk's lair, the walls are decorated by a rickety wooden frame formed from clean-cut branches lashed together with gut and twine. Banners cut from two-foot-wide strips of old blankets and horse hides hang from floor to ceiling, covering much of the walls. The sloppily painted banners bear dozens of primitive icons and mystic symbols of a fanged octopus head with glowing red eyes. A large cauldron filled with bubbling red liquid boils in the center of the room. Sitting on a perch near the cauldron is Tartuk's wounded raven. The raven glowers at you with seemingly intelligent eyes.
Within the eastern alcove of the den lies a pile of of mostly worthless shiny objects - quartz and mica crystals, bits of metal, broken weapons and armor, and other garbage. Sifting through the pile you find that it also contains 7,420 cp, 2,132 sp, 302 gp, a masterwork light metal shield, seven rune covered crossbow bolts, a pair of exceptionally crafted boots and a soiled leather bag.
"Anyone able to search these for magical emanations? " Connor asks as he helps Zeke (who must already be scooping up coins) with getting stuff into bags.
He will also cautiously peer inside the soiled bag.
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The leather bag contains 321 sp, 249 gp, 13 pp, a plain brass wedding ring set with a single pearl and a small pouch containing a fine blue powder.
"Wedding ring. Huh. Didn't whatshername lose one of these?"
Connor will.pocket the ring in case, to take back. He heads back to the kobold chief to extend a hand to him.
"Your offer is generous. And we accept. Be wary of human bandits in this area. If they don't know us by name, they are not friends of ours."
Connor turns to leave, but then reconsiders a parting thought, "The warrior, Mikmek, is a credit to your people. Honor him for the sacrifices he has made. If he is a measure of your tribe's valor, I look forward to fighting alongside you in the future."
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As you lower the book a folded paper falls out. Opening the parchment you see that it is covered with arcane symbols.
Seres catches the paper as it falls, opening it carefully and examining its contents.
***
Seres winces when he spots the raven. "Sorry about that business, mate. Nothing personal, you understand?" He frowns, then asks the others, "You don't suppose the shaman's spirit has possessed his familiar or anything like?"
***
"Anyone able to search these for magical emanations? " Connor asks.
Seres shrugs the looks over at Aladarion questioningly.
Seres, the parchment is a scroll of fly.
The raven hops up and down on its perch as Seres addresses it and then croaks several words in a strange language.
Chief Sootscale will walk with you out of the caverns, "The bandits have a stronghold southwest of here on lake Tuskwater. Follow the shrike river past the confluence with the Thorn River. Beware their leader - he is insane."
Mikmek and several other kobold soldiers help you prepare for departure. Per the chief's orders, they plan to escort you to where ever you choose to go next. Prior to leaving, Mikmek provides you a detailed description of the area surrounding the kobold warrens, allowing you to updated your maps.
Aldarion adds to Zeke's diplomatic gesture. "We shall indeed make fine allies, Chief Sootscale. We look forward to a new era of peace and prosperity for both our clans." He makes a formal but slight bow.
"Good memory, Connor. Yes, it seems Svetlana will be most pleased with us for finding it."
Looking back at Seres, the gardener shrugs. "I'm afraid I've not had much use for detecting magical enchantments in my years as a gardener and medicine man. But," he scratches his thin goatee, "there is an old meditation I once learned long ago... one which allowed you to see magical auras. Let me see, now..."
The sage places an open palm above the objects one at a time. He closes his eyes, and begins to hum. Opening one eye after several short repetitions, he seems to squint one-eyed at each item. Apparently unsuccessful, he then repeats this ritual. "Hmmm. I will have to think about it some more. There's something I am forgetting... it has been a while..." Aldarion's attention drifts off, as if to a far away place in his past.
Coming back to attention, the sage makes a suggestion. "Perhaps we should head back to the trade post. We have dealings with Oleg and Svetlana to conclude, and we can restock ourselves before planning and heading further south to deal with this insane bandit leader."
Seres nods. "Yes, let's head back and check in. We have been out in the wilds for several days."
You begin your trek north across the Kamelands to Oleg's trading post. Mikmek and five other kobold soldiers accompanying you. The kobolds show surprising endurance in their ability to run for long periods of time, but even so, they slow your pace down considerably.
The first day of travel is uneventful. That night Aldarion examines the loot from Tartuk's lair and finds that the bolts, boots, wand, powder and bracers all radiate magic. Mikmek writes down a hundred common words in draconic, along with their common translations, and helps Ezekial with the pronunciation and inflection. Connor continues his combat training for the horses. Seres and Aldarion mind the worg puppies.
On the second morning, you wake to a cold snap - the temperature has precipitously dropped below freezing. To make matters worse, Connor wakes with symptoms similar to those suffered by Ezekial two days before - a fever and a dull ache radiating from the tick bite.
Connor coughs and sneezes, shuddering in the cold but thanks to foresight from the tree singer he's able to stave off the worst of it.
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After three days of travel the group arrives at Oleg's Trading Post. As the fort comes into sight the kobolds bid you farewell. Mikmek clasps each of our hands. "Mikmek look forward to the day where we fight together again. Remember the alliance - we not forget."
With that he salutes you and begins the trek back to the Sootscale warrens.
At the fort you are surprised to see soldiers at the gate. As you approach, they lower their halberds to block your access. "State your business here!"
You note that the soldiers wear the livery of Brevoy on their tunics.
|
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Ezekiel bids the kobolds farewell in their native tongue. He is feeling almost proficient in the arcane language and is a little proud of himself.
As the group is challenged by the guards Ezekiel scowls at them. Gimmi am break he says under his breath. Best Send for Oleg and Svetlana too. We've some news for them that they will not want to wait for.
Connor moves forward and whips out the writ, "Tell Oleg we've returned," as he shoves it in the guards face.
"And find someone to take care of the horses while you're at it."
He then pushes past the crossed pole arms, removing his gauntlets in the process.
Did we remember the radishes?
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Aldarion indeed tends to the ill Connor with broth and herbal remedies.
He bids the kobolds a farewell with a formal half-bow as they depart.
Aldarion smiles warmly, and perhaps a bit smugly, as Connor presents his writ to the guards when the party approaches the gates.
The guards glare at you but, after reading the writ, begrudgingly allow you to pass through the gates. Within the courtyard you are greeted by the fragrant smell of roasting mutton. You note that the fort appears to be in noticeably better condition than when you left it - the holes in the palisades have been repaired and the courtyard grounds have been adorned with several gardens.
Walking into the gatehouse you are greeted by the rich smells of coffee and baking bread. Svetlana and Oleg sit at the dining room drinking coffee with two soldiers and an older man dressed in leather armor and a forest green tunic. Svetlana stands upon seeing you and moves to hug each of you."Our heroes return! We were becoming concerned!"
Oleg also stands to shake your hands. "Ten days in the wilderness! Welcome back to civilization my friends. What news do you bring?"
One of the soldiers stands to introduce himself, "I'm Lieutenant Kesten Garess. Oleg was just telling us about your exploits in fending off the bandits. I'm honored to meet you."
The man in the green tunic nods at you, "Greetings, I am Jhod Kavken. We are in dire need of heroes. Pagans have overrun the Narlmarches. I would speak to you about this once you have settled."
You note that the man wears a holy symbol of Erastil around his neck. You also note that his grizzled face is crisscrossed by battle scars.
You recall the scandal when an affair between Kesten and a lowborn woman named Tania, a weaver’s daughter, became public knowledge. His father Evan, a cousin of the Garess family patriarch, disowned Kesten, who fled to Restov to serve as a mercenary.
As the agents make their way through the guarded and repaired trading post, Aldarion's mind begins to weigh the pros and cons of a strengthening Brevian presence. While pleased to find Oleg and Svetlana well protected from bandit raids, a gnawing feeling haunts the sage in the recesses of his mind, and in his gut.
Maintaining his calm presence of mind, the gardener bows respectfully as he is introduced to the new arrivals. Grasping right forearms with the lieutenant, "We are pleased to see our hosts well protected by your capable-looking guard, Lieutenant."
Inwardly, Aldarion hesitates to acknowledge the presence of a man whose apparently ardent faith is diametrically opposed to his own, which cherishes all that is verdant and good in the natural world. He does well to mask his reservations, however, and politely nods to the Erastilite in turn. Greeting him with a forearm embrace as well, the smiling sage replies, "Indeed. I look forward to it."
Connor shakes the Lieutenants hand as well. "Well met, I noted the repair work you've done while around here. Oleg and Svetyana must be very thankful."
Connor searches the man's face for a moment, but doesn't recognize him nor recall the name so sits to eat, "I am reminded of a small task you requested, Svetyana. I pray we found the right one?"Connor passes over his belt pouch with the found ring in it.
He turns back to the new men, "What brings you here, Lieutenant? Not passing through if you tarried long enough to fix the place up."
He nods at the Erastil priest, but doesn't address him yet.
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Svetlana gasps upon seeing the ring, "My wedding ring! I thought it lost forever!"
Oleg is likewise startled to see the ring, "Very impressive my friends. I hope you duly punished the swine bandits whom stole it. I am truly grateful. Please accept 1000 gp credit at the trading post as a token of our gratitude."
Kesten nods at your question Connor while taking a sip of coffee, "Oleg sent a request to Restov several months ago for assistance in defending the fort. Unfortunately, due to the increasing tensions with House Surtova, Restov could not immediately free up any soldiers for the frontier. Since then, the Swordlords have begun to mobilize additional men to expand the army. My unit is part of a newly constituted frontier guard."
Kesten then pauses and looks morosely out the dining room window. "Prior to joining the army I had been a mercenary. I'm hoping to use this opportunity to ... well, let's just say restore my honor in Restov. Anyway, our mission is to help you and the other expeditionary units hold the portions of the greenbelt liberated from the bandits."
"Ah, so you have a mandate from the Swordlords, excellent," Connor pauses, almost expectantly, to see if the man produces proof.
I'm curious. Is this man truly authorized or is he independently trying to redeem his honor. I certainly can relate to the latter.. Either is OK, but my friends and I would find it beneficial to know which way he bends ...
After a moment of introspection and regardless of how the man responds, Connor keys in on another comment the mercenary leader made, as the cavalier reaches for a hunk of bread.
"You mentioned other expeditionary units, specifically . You know of others in the region? Oleg? Did they come through here?"
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Kesten nods and flashes you a cold smile. "Aye, I have orders.
He then raises an eyebrow, "Oh, you didn't know? You aren't the only ones they sent out into this god forsaken wilderness. I'm aware of at least three other groups with charters."
Oleg shakes his head and shrugs, "We haven't seen them."
Oleg and Svetlana help you feed and care for the horses. After unloading your gear, rinsing off a week of filth and taking a long nap, you return to the dining hall for dinner. The smells of mutton stew and garlic potatoes greet you. On the table, flagons of cold beer and spiced wine have been laid out.
Jhod Kavken is already there when you come down and is well into his cups. After exchanging pleasantries on the quality of the beer, Jhod goes on to tell you that he is a priest of Erastil from a small village in Ustalav. He also tells you in a very matter of fact way that he was exiled from his village for the overzealous lynching of traveler whom he incorrectly attributed to be responsible for a spate of murders. Only the fact that the man happened to be a bandit sent to spy on the village spared Jhod from total excommunication.
As the night grows long, Jhod eventually confides in you, "I seek nothing more than to redeem myself with Erastil. Since leaving Ustalav, I have had a reoccurring dream of a lost temple of Erastil within the Narlmarches. In my dream, the overgrown temple ruins are guarded by a giant, angry bear. I believe this temple to be real and I believe that Erastil desires that the temple be restored. Alas, after several unsuccessful forays against the pagan bandits in the forest, I fear I am too old to penetrate the Narlmarches. Perhaps you can assist."
During the evening, Lt. Garess also joins you for drinks. As he slowly gets drunk, he shares with you colorful stories of his past. One particular story draws his ire. "A mercenary I worked with months ago was a Varisian man named Falgrim Sneeg. Falgrim robbed our group and fled into the Greenbelt to become a bandit. I hope to catch him alive and return him to Restov for punishment. If you see him in the Narlmarches, I would be obliged if you return the bastard to me."
At first, Seres pays little attention to the new arrivals, content to enjoy the outpost's shelter and warm food. But as Jhod rambles on drunkenly, he cannot help but respond. "We are already surveying the land, so I think we would be happy to check the Narlmarches for this temple. However... should we encounter this giant, angry bear and slay it, would not Erastil turn a disapproving eye upon us?"
Connor answers before Jhod can with the comfort of one who has expereince with a religion, "Old Deadeye would see it as a hunt, not as a desecration. As long as we treat the animal as prey, I believe we are well within his realm, nay, his favor even."
Jhod nods, "Aye, slay the bear, it is indeed the will of Old Deadeyes"
Seres shrugs, taking a sip of his mead. "Certainly, we shan't lightly ignore the will of the gods..." He covers up his scorn with a faux-cough.
To the group, he adds, "Which way were the Narlmarches from here?"
Seres shrugs, taking a sip of his mead. "Certainly, we shan't lightly ignore the will of the gods..." He covers up his scorn with a faux-cough.
To the group, he adds, "Which way were the Narlmarches from here?"
Earlier, Aldarion perks up at the mention of three other groups and their absence from Oleg's post. "I wonder where they are, then..."
...
Throughout the evening, Aldarion spends much of the time listening to the stories. He performs a supportive smile or head nod on occasion while sipping his spiced wine very slowly.
Aldarion is a man of faith. But for him, religion is neither a creed nor a badge of honor to be paraded through rhetoric about the will of the gods and such. Rather, his is a spiritual oneness with the very essence of nature itself. Faith is an inward journey, of experiencing life itself. It is most certainly not a trophy bear to be slain in the name of your deity of choice.
Nonetheless, he humors the Erastilite. His response seems sincere, save for the twinkle in his eye when Seres pretends to cough, "Indeed we wouldn't want to thwart the will of the gods, of course. We shall indeed seek to reclaim the lost temple."
He then begins to muse aloud, "Though the thought of a lost temple to Dead Eye makes me wonder... about the peoples here before. Before this realm was overrun by bandits, I mean. And before the kobolds and the mites perhaps called this their home."
Answering Seres's query, "We touched the northern tip of the Narlmarches when we found the radish patch, actually. That was due southwest from here. Perhaps we can revisit the patch, retrieve some radishes for our wonderful hostess," he grins and holds his wine glass up to Svetlana, "And see about this lost temple while we explore the northern Narlmarches more thoroughly?"
Aldarion reassures the lieutenant, "We shall be on the lookout for this Mr. Falgrim Sneeg, then."
As the evening stretches on, the gardener looks forward to a well-earned night of rest. He checks on the others for signs of lingering illness and wounds, though.
Seres nods, "The Narlmarches it is, then. I will pack up some extra rations in the morning."
You awake the next day to a pleasant spring morning. Donning your gear, you prepare the horses as Svetlana prepares you a hot breakfast. As you eat, Svetlana, Lt. Garess and Jhod chat about what they've heard from visiting trappers.
"There used to be a bridge crossing the Shrike River to the southeast, but bandits ruined it. They say the old bridge keeper Davik Nettles haunts the place now."
"Aye, the primary trade route from the River Kingdoms to Brevoy is the East Sellen River, a major waterway that runs through a swampy region to the west called the Hooktongue Slough. The trade route’s been closed for several months, though, due to an increased amount of violence from the boggard tribes that dwell there—hopefully the frog folk keep to the swamp and don’t turn their bulging eyes east toward the Narlmarches!"
As the sun rises over the horizon you leave Oleg's trading post and head back into the wilderness. After several hours of riding, you come to the outskirts of the Narlmarches. The darkness of the forest looms in front of you. After several hours of searching through the undergrowth, you once again find the jet black moon radish plants. After filling your sacks with the white radish, you look around you in the thick forest, debating which direction to head next.
Connor will buy a masterwork lance (310gp) and a masterwork breastplate (350gp) ... thought about an agile breastplate, but the extra 200gp seems a bit excessive.
"Let's continue to the southwest ... that's where the bandits trail went, correct?"
Connor will also buy a military riding saddle
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"Svetlana should be most pleased with these," the sage says admiringly of a few large radishes in particular.
"Indeed," Aldarion answers Connor. "I am sure they realize by now their 'friends' are not returning to camp... let us head there then."
Judging by familiar geographical landmarks, Aldarion tries to recall familiarity with where they left off when originally setting out on the old trail of the bandits that they fought at the trade post...
Aldarion, Connor, you recall that the trail you followed from Oleg's diverged at the radish patch. The bandits that you release headed northwest. The original bandit group traveled from the southwest.
Aldarion, based on the directions provided from your interrogation of Happs, you know that the bandit camp is in the southwest hex. You are able to again pick up faint traces of their tracks.
The party mounts up and heads southwest. After several hours of slow travel through the thick forest, you run into the Thorn river, which runs north to south. You continue to follow the tracks south until the tracks merge into many other tracks. It is clear that you are near the camp.
There is a hidden platform in the trees south of you. A camouflaged crossbowman stands guard on the platform. He does not appear to have noticed you.
"What are you all staring at? We have places to go. Let's move!"
Seres nods, about to add a rejoinder to Connor's statement, when something in the trees ahead catches his eye. His eyes widen and he quickly hushes the others. He points to the camouflaged archer as he sidles into the shadow of a tree.