Jakari returns Hadrah’s nod as she closes the wagon’s flaps. Frowning to himself, he turns to face Gerr and Faysal before speaking quietly, “perhaps we should speak with Lady Almah about the, um, prediction that apparently unsettled Eloais… it might be that somebody was unhappy about it, or unhappy about what it, ah, revealed, and decided to punish the messenger.”
"Yes, that seems a prudent course of action. Too bad I didn't know about this earlier, it seems a shame to disturb Lady Almah so soon after discussing with her."
Faysal motions to allow the others to lead while quickly taking a drink of water.
“Ah, alright,” he says nervously, as it becomes apparent the other two are content to let him lead the way.
He walks towards Almah’s wagon, glancing back occasionally to ensure the others are still with him. “Ah, excuse me,” he half mumbles to one of the Pactmaster guards as he approaches, “we would like to speak to the, um, princess.”
“Ah, alright,” he says nervously, as it becomes apparent the other two are content to let him lead the way.
He walks towards Almah’s wagon, glancing back occasionally to ensure the others are still with him. “Ah, excuse me,” he half mumbles to one of the Pactmaster guards as he approaches, “we would like to speak to the, um, princess.”
Faysal watches Jakari carefully, noting the hesitation the other man has begun to show. Shifting his feet and moving closer Faysal quietly says to Jakari.
"Is there something wrong? You seem a bit nervous. There is no need for that! Lady Almah will undoubtedly answer all our inquiries. She wants to see this end properly for her friend Eloais. Do not be meek, that is improper behaviour in front of a woman."
Jakari’s cheeks colour slightly at Faysal’s words, “um, I’ve never been very, ah, good with words… I tend to get a little, um, nervous when I talk to someone I don’t know.”
He looks over towards Faysal for a moment before continuing, “I doubt that makes much sense to you, Faysal. You, ah, make it seem so… easy.”
Gregory looks over at Chance: (clears throat slightly) "Have you found anything of value to the investigation? I may have, I will discern such things when I speak with Almah.
Oh, yes, I still don't have your name. I introduced myself to everyone earlier, the proper thing to do. If you didn't notice, I am Gregory, hailing from Katapesh."
"I am called Chance. Yeah, it's an odd name, but I don't really know what my parents called me. Good to meet you."
Jakari’s cheeks colour slightly at Faysal’s words, “um, I’ve never been very, ah, good with words… I tend to get a little, um, nervous when I talk to someone I don’t know.”
He looks over towards Faysal for a moment before continuing, “I doubt that makes much sense to you, Faysal. You, ah, make it seem so… easy.”
"Do not worry, this is just another goal for you to triumph over." Faysal begins easily with a long grin. "Everyone has their flaws to work through, I have already dealt with my own! It is time for you to tackle this one, Jakari and I shall aid you!"
Faysal gives the other man a long, friendly smile placing his hand on Jakari's shoulder. After a brief moment Faysal nods and turns his attention back to the investigation, awaiting the arrival of Lady Almah.
"If you can help us with your knowledge of gnolls then you would become more important to Lady Almah, as we may aid her and her retinue, including you, in any problems in the near future. I would be interested in what you know about Gnolls and maybe you can teach me how to speak Gnoll; I would teach you something I know in return."
Dashki laughs a rasping, dry laugh that reminds you of gravel and dead leaves. "Teach you about gnolls you say? Dashki know much about gnolls and the language, a lot much for someone like you to handle. If you want to learn for three, four years, then yes, Dashki teach you... but I need not learn what you know. Dashki knows what I need."
""What, may I ask fair Dashki, is so interesting about the lady's wagon? If there is some danger, no matter how small, we would need to know. Oh yes, we are here protecting the caravan, to include Lady Almah and yourself."
"Lady Almah's wagon? Oh... Dashki just thinks it pretty. So pretty..." The dirty man gets a faraway look in his eye, staring at Almah's cart for an exaggerated amount of time.
"Did you light the fire? Do you know who did?"
Dashki's eyes move from side to side, and a nervous look comes over his face. "Dashki had nothing to do with fire. But... Eloais burned a hundred candles in his wagon. Maybe got unlucky... We are in gnoll country. Probably a pugwampi did it."
“Ah, excuse me, we would like to speak to the, um, princess.”
One of the guard snickers and says to Jakari and the other two men, "Ah, um, well, uh, um, okay, I, think, she'll, be, out, soon. Hey Almah, those people you hired are here for you." Apparantly the Pactmaster soldiers aren't as well-mannered as their prestgious names imply. With a flourish, the elegantly decorated wagon's cowel flys open and Almah steps out onto the ground. Even with such a short time passed, the princess possesses more color in her features than before and all traces of sorrow are gone from her figure. "Yes, my friends? Have you found the culprit already?!"
At the guard’s mockery, the colour in Jakari’s cheeks deepens further, and a muscle beneath his left eye tightens slightly. If not for Faysal’s reassuring hand, he may have turned and left. Instead, he looks over to the other man and gives him a small, but grateful, smile. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I will try.”
Turning towards the princess, a look of concentration is painted across his face, and he speaks deliberately, “I am afraid not yet princess, but we…” he hesitates momentarily, consciously suppressing his uncertain mumbling, “did hear that Eloais was concerned about the latest, ah-” he winces in frustration at his slip, but presses on, “the latest prediction he made for you. Would you mind sharing it with us? It might be…” he catches himself again, “important.”
Gregory wrote:
"If you can help us with your knowledge of gnolls then you would become more important to Lady Almah, as we may aid her and her retinue, including you, in any problems in the near future. I would be interested in what you know about Gnolls and maybe you can teach me how to speak Gnoll; I would teach you something I know in return."
Dashki laughs a rasping, dry laugh that reminds you of gravel and dead leaves. "Teach you about gnolls you say? Dashki know much about gnolls and the language, a lot much for someone like you to handle. If you want to learn for three, four years, then yes, Dashki teach you... but I need not learn what you know. Dashki knows what I need."
Gregory wrote:
""What, may I ask fair Dashki, is so interesting about the lady's wagon? If there is some danger, no matter how small, we would need to know. Oh yes, we are here protecting the caravan, to include Lady Almah and yourself."
"Lady Almah's wagon? Oh... Dashki just thinks it pretty. So pretty..." The dirty man gets a faraway look in his eye, staring at Almah's cart for an exaggerated amount of time.
Chance wrote:
"Did you light the fire? Do you know who did?"
Dashki's eyes move from side to side, and a nervous look comes over his face. "Dashki had nothing to do with fire. But... Eloais burned a hundred candles in his wagon. Maybe got unlucky... We are in gnoll country. Probably a pugwampi did it."
Dashki laughs a rasping, dry laugh that reminds you of gravel and dead leaves. "Teach you about gnolls you say? Dashki know much about gnolls and the language, a lot much for someone like you to handle. If you want to learn for three, four years, then yes, Dashki teach you... but I need not learn what you know. Dashki knows what I need."
(clears throat slightly)"Try me and see how much I can handle, I will surpise you.
Also, I can agree with you that Almah is beautiful but I won't fight over such trivial things."After Dashki's reaction to the fire question, Gregory does some TC(TC=throat clearing)
"So you have been in his wagon and seen his one hundred candles. I would imagine he would have been safe with a fire being a major possibility."
Dashki's eyes move from side to side, and a nervous look comes over his face. "Dashki had nothing to do with fire. But... Eloais burned a hundred candles in his wagon. Maybe got unlucky... We are in gnoll country. Probably a pugwampi did it."
Chance will say quietly, "So you do know who set it, and it's not a pugwampi. Confess, who did it and what is a pugwampi anyway?" Yeah, Chance can be a bit unfocused at times.
“I am afraid not yet princess, but we… did hear that Eloais was concerned about the latest, ah- the latest prediction he made for you. Would you mind sharing it with us? It might be... important.”
Almah nods at Jakari's question, though her face shows traces of dissapointment at the news they didn't know the perpetrator just yet. "Yes, poor Eloais did read my cards many times during his stay. Lately, his predictions had been getting a bit... grim. His last reading centered around an auspicious card called 'The Cyclone.' Perhaps you know of it? Unfortunately, I didn't and still don't. The odd thing was, even though he consulted the fates for information about my future... it apparently spelled out an event in the future for him."
"Oh, yes! When I asked him what the reading foreshadowed, perhaps something relating to Kelmarane, Eloais said that it did indeed involve Kelmarane. But he said that the village was a small part of something much larger, a thing he called the 'Legacy of Fire.' I'm not quite sure what he meant by that either."
"Try me and see how much I can handle, I will surpise you. Also, I can agree with you that Almah is beautiful but I won't fight over such trivial things."
"So you have been in his wagon and seen his one hundred candles. I would imagine he would have been safe with a fire being a major possibility."
Dashki looks at Gregory curiously, as if he didn't expect the man to push any farther on the subject. "Uh, well... what you want Dashki to tell you?"
The dirty man nods vigorously, his stringy hair slapping across his shoulders, but his eyes hold new sharpness in his gaze. "Yes, Lady Almah very beautiful... but everyone been in that man's wagon. We all got our fortunes when he came to caravan. He stupid though, even if wagon was safe, that man could start fire."
Gregory can't remember anything about a 'pugwampi', not even if the creature is real or made-up.
"So you do know who set it, and it's not a pugwampi. Confess, who did it and what is a pugwampi anyway?"
Dashki puts his hands up, and shouts loudly, "No! Dashki not know who did this, I already say! I was at the campfire eating dinner when wagon went up in fire," he pantomimes a burst of flames rising towards the sky, "Dashki is a gnoll expert. I know it probably pugwampi. They terrible critters that crawl up from below the earth. 'Jackal Rats' I call them, because of their canine head."
"Pugwampis worship gnolls like god, infest the monsters' communities like rats. They make bad luck too. Gnolls hate pugwampis because that, so they try to kill them a lot. But they always come back. Maybe bad luck made candles start a fire?... Yes. Pugwampis, Dashki is certain it was pugwampis."
Knowledge History check for "Legacy of Fire": 1d20+5=13
Gerr can't remember anything about this so called 'Legacy of Fire', all he knows is that it does not play a role in any prominent legends he knows of.
Chance will look bewildered at the mans response, but then smiles "Ok, I believe you. Why didn't you say so in the first place", ignoring the fact that the man had. "If it was Pugwampis would there be a hole under the wagon? Let's go look." And Chance will lead them back to the burnt wagon. On the way he will ask, "You said he was stupid and could start a fire. Are you referring to something more than just having a lot of candles in his wagon?"
Once there, can we look under the wagon(did we put out the fire fast enough?). Otherwise, Chance will look for a shovel and start digging. He isn't afraid of a little hard work. Though, if it comes to digging he will cast an Endure Elements on himself 1st, no sense in courting heat stroke.
Faysal listens carefully as Almah explains, his face awash in confusion.
"That does seem strange, did he mention anything else at all?"
The Keleshite hesitates to continue to think things over. The information wasn't exactly what they were looking for but there's an unmistakable sense of excitement in Faysal's features.
"'Legacy of Fire'," He begins quietly more to himself. "It strikes me as something dreadfully heroic."
Dashki looks at Gregory curiously, as if he didn't expect the man to push any farther on the subject. "Uh, well... what you want Dashki to tell you?"
The dirty man nods vigorously, his stringy hair slapping across his shoulders, but his eyes hold new sharpness in his gaze. "Yes, Lady Almah very beautiful... but everyone been in that man's wagon. We all got our fortunes when he came to caravan. He stupid though, even if wagon was safe, that man could start fire."
Gregory can't remember anything about a 'pugwampi', not even if the creature is real or made-up.
(TC)"Are these "pugwampi" common here or do their activities lead to fires and the like?"
"I would like you to tell me common Gnoll words, I will memorize them, and we'll continue from there. I am wanting to know things like "leader, stop, power, friend, helpful, beware," can you tell me these things? Oh, and common Gnoll battle tactics."
Gregory will follow Chance to the wagon and ensure Dashki follows, under the guise of him telling him words and memorizing. When upon the wagon, Gregory will: if digging is involved, more things out of the way; if no digging, examine for anything suspicious.
Jakari’s expression relaxes as the princess speaks, either due to the information giving him something to focus on, or some soothing quality in her voice. Once Almah is finished he remains in silent contemplation, searching his memories of the stories of his childhood for some mention of the Cyclone or Legacy of Fire.
"Ok, I believe you. Why didn't you say so in the first place. If it was Pugwampis would there be a hole under the wagon? Let's go look."
"You said he was stupid and could start a fire. Are you referring to something more than just having a lot of candles in his wagon?"
"A hole... under the wagon... perhaps. Pugwampis do come from the ground... but they do not usually live in it. Probably would be tracks of some sort." Dashki emits a sound that seems a lot like a growl. "He was stupid, thought if he spent enough time with Lady Almah, she would..." Dashki's eyes smolder in anger.
"That does seem strange, did he mention anything else at all?"
Almah shakes her head. "No, nothing else. After that he refused to do anymore readings and never left his wagon. Eventually it became his death."
"Are these "pugwampi" common here or do their activities lead to fires and the like?"
"I would like you to tell me common Gnoll words, I will memorize them, and we'll continue from there. I am wanting to know things like 'leader, stop, power, friend, helpful, beware,' can you tell me these things? Oh, and common Gnoll battle tactics."
Dashki nods. "Yes, we are in gnoll country after all. But they usually do not start fires. Bad luck causes many mishaps, yes, if one was near Eloais's wagon... it probably was cause. Words you want know are, in order, 'yark, grral, krock, tark, yekkar, bortk'. Gnolls usually travel packs of three or four, sending one to scout and the others backup. Other than that... gnolls fight ferociously."
Jakari cannot remember anything.
"Thank you Princess, I am sorry to have bothered you again so soon." Faysal begins, bowing in a flourish to Almah. He looks around the camp again in order to find the other companions who travelled this far from Katapesh.
"Ah, there is one last thing Lady Almah. Who is Dashki, could you point him out for me?"
Chance is puzzled, "But you said they were terrible critters that crawl up from below the earth and I do wish you wouldn't stop mid-sentence, it makes me die from curiosity. She would what?"
Do we find anything under the wagon?
Seeing Faysal bowing, Jakari offers the princess a bow himself, albeit a somewhat less graceful one, “Yes, thank you for your time… princess.”
Straightening himself, he glances around the camp to assess the situation. He notices his travelling companions speaking with someone near the remains of Eloais’ caravan, but something on the west side of the camp catches his eye.
Dashki nods. "Yes, we are in gnoll country after all. But they usually do not start fires. Bad luck causes many mishaps, yes, if one was near Eloais's wagon... it probably was cause. Words you want know are, in order, 'yark, grral, krock, tark, yekkar, bortk'. Gnolls usually travel packs of three or four, sending one to scout and the others backup. Other than that... gnolls fight ferociously."
(TC) "Thank you Dashki for sharing that information with me, I will use it to much effectiveness.
Are there any questions that you have for me or the current situation?"
"Ah, there is one last thing Lady Almah. Who is Dashki, could you point him out for me?"
Almah nods, an odd smile on her face. "Ah yes, our gnoll expert. Dashki is right over there, the man with the long black hair." She points to the group searching near the burnt-out wagon, which included Dashki, Gregory, and Chance.
"But you said they were terrible critters that crawl up from below the earth and I do wish you wouldn't stop mid-sentence, it makes me die from curiosity. She would what?"
Dashki growls, a sound that is slightly frightening in timbre. "Yes, Dashki say they originally come from under earth. But do not live in it! Pugwampis live in packs above ground most time, with a chieftan to watch over tribe." He spits on the groun, his expression annoyed.
His expression turns sour when further asked about Almah and Eloais, and almost a bit... happy? "They close. Close. I have to say anymore? That why he stupid, he never able to be with her."
He notices his travelling companions speaking with someone near the remains of Eloais’ caravan, but something on the west side of the camp catches his eye.
There is an old man there that you noticed before, but now he is pouring the contents of the green vial onto the ground, shaking his head in frustration and quickly mumbling words you can't make out.
"Thank you Dashki for sharing that information with me, I will use it to much effectiveness.
Are there any questions that you have for me or the current situation?"
"Hmph. No questions, other than why Almah pick you people for her job? You all talk too much." Dashki displays a subtle grin that Gregory can't discern as insulting or jesting. "Dashki much better candidate."
The three travel over to the wagon, the blackened structure just as sorrow-inspiring as before. Eloais's body has been removed in their abscence, most likely by a Pactmaster guard or perhaps by Garavel.
After a good ten minutres of searching, they discern there is no evidence of a hole anywheres near the deathsite. But Gregory and his keen eyes notice a trail of tiny footprints leading away from the wagon and into the surrounding wastelands.
Jakari continues to watch the old man’s activity for a moment, and then moves over towards him. “Ah, hello?” he says as he draws closer, “I am Jakari… is something wrong?”
“Ah, hello? I am Jakari… is something wrong?”
The old man promptly throws the now empty vial on the ground, shattering it. "Damn it! I just can't seem to get this potion right!" He takes a few deep, wheezing breaths and finally seems to notice the ranger. "Oh! Hello there! Nothing's wrong, oh no, I just can't seem to get this concoction right... you don't happen to know anything about potion-making, do you?" After a moment, the aged human slaps himself on the forehead, "Forgive my manners! I'm Father Zastoran, Cleric of Nethys, alchemist extrodinaire."
The young Garundi draws back from the shattered vial reflexively, his eyes widening slightly. As the priest speaks though, Jakari composes himself. “Sorry,” he says with an apologetic look, “I don’t know very much about, ah, alchemy. I only know some simple herbal remedies, but I have just arrived with some others… perhaps one of them might be able to help.”
He glances down at the remains of the man’s work, “What, um, sort of potion where you trying to make?”
“Ah, hello? I am Jakari… is something wrong?”The old man promptly throws the now empty vial on the ground, shattering it. "Damn it! I just can't seem to get this potion right!" He takes a few deep, wheezing breaths and finally seems to notice the ranger. "Oh! Hello there! Nothing's wrong, oh no, I just can't seem to get this concoction right... you don't happen to know anything about potion-making, do you?" After a moment, the aged human slaps himself on the forehead, "Forgive my manners! I'm Father Zastoran, Cleric of Nethys, alchemist extrodinaire."
Gerr wanders up behind Jakari and overhears the old man's introduction. "Father! I am Gerr Herricksen, a loyal follower of the Lord of Magic. Father, can you shed any light upon this strange scene? Did you see, hear or sense anything when the attack came?"
"Yes, Dashki say they originally come from under earth. But do not live in it! Pugwampis live in packs above ground most time, with a chieftan to watch over tribe."
Chance finds that this Dashki is trying his patience, but manages a diplomatic reply, "No, you didn't mention that fact."
"They close. Close. I have to say anymore? That why he stupid, he never able to be with her."
Chance sighs, "Because she's a princess, people should be able to "be" with whomever they choose. Gregory, I think Jakari can do some tracking. I'll go see if he is free. So are these Pugwampis tracks Dashki?"
After hearing his response, Chance will look around for Jakari and head over to him, but will wait politely while he finishes talking to the old man before saying "We found some tracks by the wagon, would you be interested in looking at them?"
"Thank you again Princess, I promise not to cease this investigation until the culprit is found."
After finishing his business with Lady Almah the Keleshite politely excuses himself then moves to join Chance, Dashki, and Gregory. He waits stoically for an opportune moment to enter the conversation.
After a good ten minutres of searching, they discern there is no evidence of a hole anywheres near the deathsite. But Gregory and his keen eyes notice a trail of tiny footprints leading away from the wagon and into the surrounding wastelands.
Gregory stares at the footprints for a moment, trying to recall anything he would be familiar with or have seen.
Whatever the results, Gregory will point out the tracks to Chance and Dashki.
(TC)"Dashki, do you recognize these tracks?"
“Sorry, I don’t know very much about, ah, alchemy. I only know some simple herbal remedies, but I have just arrived with some others… perhaps one of them might be able to help.”
“What, um, sort of potion where you trying to make?”
"The potion I was trying to make? Oh, it was a failed attempt at a potion which enchants a weapon and makes it stronger in battle. I was hoping I could help some of the soldiers here in camp could use it sometime in the future..." he trails off and glares frustratingly at the broken vial on the ground. "But it looks like that won't be happening anytime soon."
"Father! I am Gerr Herricksen, a loyal follower of the Lord of Magic. Father, can you shed any light upon this strange scene? Did you see, hear or sense anything when the attack came?"
Father Zastoran nods and smiles warmly at Gerr. "Ah, another follower of The All-Seeing Eye. It is wonderful to meet you Gerr Herricksen. Alas, I do not know much of what transpired when the fire blazed into existance. I was reading a book by the fire-pit, but those blasted mercenaries were too loud and I couldn't concentrate on my texts. I'd just stood up to return to my wagon when the fire started."
The old cleric shook his head in apology. "I can't tell you about who was at the fire when it started, but I can tell you who wasn't. The six mercenaries in this caravan were with me at the fire-pit like I said. So it couldn't have been any of them..." Zastoran gazes past the group and towards the burnt wagon, a sad expression on his face. "I did always think of Eloais as a charlatan, and Lady Almah is much better off without his attentions. But... she seemed so fond of him..."
Seeming to snap back to reality, the wizened man focused back onto the group in front of him. "So, why are you people visitng Lady Almah's caravan?"
"Thank you again Princess, I promise not to cease this investigation until the culprit is found."
Almah nods and breaks out into a kindly grin. "Ah, I thank you again Faysal, you and your friends are rising over and above my expectations. I truly am glad I have all of you to help."
"Because she's a princess, people should be able to "be" with whomever they choose. Gregory, I think Jakari can do some tracking. I'll go see if he is free. So are these Pugwampis tracks Dashki?"
Gregory stares at the footprints for a moment, trying to recall anything he would be familiar with or have seen.
"Dashki, do you recognize these tracks?"
It jumps out at Gregory that these tracks are canine in nature, the three little nubs and long imprint behind them quite obvious in the cracked dirt. But they are smaller in size than any dog the rogue has seen before.
Dashki kneels down and begins to examine the tracks after Gergory, his long hair trailing on the dusty ground. A minute passes. "Yes. Dashki knows these are pugwampi tracks. I told you!"
It jumps out at Gregory that these tracks are canine in nature, the three little nubs and long imprint behind them quite obvious in the cracked dirt. But they are smaller in size than any dog the rogue has seen before.
Dashki kneels down and begins to examine the tracks after Gergory, his long hair trailing on the dusty ground. A minute passes. "Yes. Dashki knows these are pugwampi tracks. I told you!"
(Infernal)"Canine tracks, interesting"
(TC)"Chance, these tracks are canine but smaller than anything I've seen. It may be an offshoot of the canine family or something new."After Dashki exclamation about the tracks being of Pugwami origin: (TC)"I can agree with you Dashki, for now. (To Chance, if he's still there) I propose we follow these tracks, though we should get more people before moving out of the immediate vicinity of the camp. It may be a trap, better to error on the side of caution."
After hearing his response, Chance will look around for Jakari and head over to him, but will wait politely while he finishes talking to the old man before saying "We found some tracks by the wagon, would you be interested in looking at them? I think we may want to follow them."
"The potion I was trying to make? Oh, it was a failed attempt at a potion which enchants a weapon and makes it stronger in battle. I was hoping I could help some of the soldiers here in camp could use it sometime in the future..." he trails off and glares frustratingly at the broken vial on the ground. "But it looks like that won't be happening anytime soon."
“Ah,” the ranger replies to the priest, nodding in understanding, “I’m no alchemist, so I don’t really know how these, ah, things work… but wouldn’t a potion just run off the blade?” he gives Zastoran a bashful smile, “maybe some, um, gum acacia would help it adhere?”
Seeming to snap back to reality, the wizened man focused back onto the group in front of him. "So, why are you people visitng Lady Almah's caravan?"
“Our reason for being here?” Jakari says unsurely, “Well, um, I don’t really know the details. We were told Lady Almah needed our, ah, skills, but the fire has delayed any explanation she might have given…”
After hearing his response, Chance will look around for Jakari and head over to him, but will wait politely while he finishes talking to the old man before saying "We found some tracks by the wagon, would you be interested in looking at them? I think we may want to follow them."
Noticing Chance waiting to speak, Jakari looks over to listen to him before turning back to Father Zastoran apologetically, “Sorry father, this might be, ah, important. Maybe we can talk more once whoever started the, um, fire has been dealt with?”
Faysal waits patiently, eager to see if Gregory finds anything. Though he is careful to stay on the sidelines and not interfere with the work the Keleshite can't help but peer in to look around himself.
"Canine tracks?" He begins quietly. "You are Dashki no doubt? Are these, pugwampis," Faysal's pronunciation of the word is slow and deliberate. "Intelligent enough to start a fire? If not are there any creatures native to these regions that might raise them?"
Faysal waits patiently, eager to see if Gregory finds anything. Though he is careful to stay on the sidelines and not interfere with the work the Keleshite can't help but peer in to look around himself.
"Canine tracks?" He begins quietly. "You are Dashki no doubt? Are these, pugwampis," Faysal's pronunciation of the word is slow and deliberate. "Intelligent enough to start a fire? If not are there any creatures native to these regions that might raise them?"
(TC) Gesturing toward Dashki "This is indeed Dashki and he says these are pugwampy tracks, we will see."
Gregory squats and has a contemplative look for a short time. He then produces a box with a black butterfly, careful to avoid its detection (sleight of hand 17+3=20) and examines it.
(Infernal) "Let's just see what we can do here"
As they walk back to the group, Chance will fill Jakari in on what Dashki has told them so far. "I tend to trust what this Dashki says is what he believes to be true. Whether it is or not..." he shrugs. "So I guess we could follow the tracks, but is there anyone in camp we haven't talked to?" As they arrive at the burnt wagon, "I wonder if pugwampy would steal a goat? oh, neat, what is that butterfly." Butterflies are special to Desna.
Gregory appears to not notice the remark about the butterfly, it almost appears as if he is shielding it from sight, examining it.
Chance will not try to grab the butterfly or anything like that as that would be rude. But he does show an intense curiosity about it, trying to get a good look at it from a polite distance. "Interesting, a black butterfly. Where's it from? It's certainly not a Child of Desna." (a Swallowtail butterfly).
“Pugwampi?” Jakari muses, walking over to examine the footprints. “It would definitely, ah, save us some time if this, um, Pugwampi had taken Rombard.”
“a Butterfly?” he asks, looking around, “where? I thought that, um, all butterflies were, ah, sacred to Desna… is it just some?”