The druids I think Mischa says, loath as she was to admit it, the loutish warrior Bec had made a good point about going to the outfitter's last.
Don'worry, Lord Casimir. I'll watch'er back while ya talk with'em. Bec thumps the butt of his spear on the wooden floorboards before nodding to Berk. Thanks Berk, and fer th' ale too. Keep some ready, eh? I'll be wantin' a pint or two when I get back! He grins at the brewer, showing large, even teeth, then turns on his heel and slams his head into the low doorway, grimacing and muttering curses as he stumbles out into the morning light.
"To the stones it is then." Casimir says as he heads out the door.
Just west of town, located on a small rise near a stand of woods, are seven massive stone monoliths arranged in a druid's circle.
It just so happens that a druid is at the circle this morning. A female half-elven druid, she is a lithe figure, barely five feet tall with long auburn hair and large green eyes. She is humming to herself softly as you approach.
Barely keeping her anger in check Mischa turns to Bec before they get close to the circle. You have shown nothing but ignorance and disrespect for the short time I have had the misfortune to know you. You will keep silent while we speak to the druid. Turning to the young noble she says coldly. Keep him under control
Bec draws himself up and looms over Mischa. I don't take orders from witches. Try anything, an' I'll 'ave ye 'n irons.
Loutish ignorant brute. I have no need to try anything with you. Mischa says haughtily and, ignoring Bec's threatening posture, addresses Casimir again As I said, keep him silent and strides away towards the stones.
Casimir grabs Bec's arm to hold him back from following after Mischa. "Let it go Bec. I know she isn't what you or I would call exactly friendly but we might need her magic if we are to defeat the ogre."
He then laughs a little.
"Besides there will be plenty time for fighting once we get to where we are going I am sure."
With that he walks beside Bec and heads for the stones.
Bec looks down on the hand on his arm and then up at his commander. As you say, m'lord. His head bobs down once in deference. I still don'trust 'er, but I'll follow yer lead, never doubt it. Bec narrows his eyes on the retreating elf witch, but falls in beside Casimir, using his spear to trudge up the hill toward the ring of stones.
"It's probably best if we let Mischa talk to the druid woman anyway, since they probably share some kind of woodland bond. Even I may be quiet on this one." Casimir says with a sigh.
Sheryn-ella stops humming and stands from her task of pruning the mistletoe and other herbs around the stones, she looks at Mischa through her big green eyes she raises one of her hands and folds her thumb over her middle finger and ring finger. Extends her index finger and little finger to form a crescent and speaks in a soft, soothing tone.
"Blessed be thy feet, which have brought thee in these ways,
Blessed be thy knees, that shall kneel at the sacred altar,
Blessed be thy womb, without which we would not be,
Blessed be thy breasts, formed in beauty,
Blessed be thy lips, that shall utter the Sacred Names of the gods."
After this she takes a more relaxed posture and continues.
Mischa does not return the hand signal but does smile.
A look of concern comes over Sheryn-ella's face.
"Farmers have noted many wolf packs are moving out of the hills. I have been to this Skulltop before. A few years back I recall seeing smoke come out of one of the eye sockets on Skulltop Hillock. Perhaps there is a way into the cave through the eye sockets as well."
She then reaches in her pouch and draws forth 8 berries.
She then hands the berries to Mischa.
Mischa +8 Goodberries
Mischa accepts the berries with thanks.
"This will be my last moon here. I have already sent a message with my great horned owl companion to the order about the ogre, I am now awaiting his return. I suppose that they might wish me to stay here and keep an eye on things with the ogre on the hunt. Please let me know of what you find."
She goes to move back to her garden of herbs.
Did you catch any of that? Bec asks Newt in a low voice.
The good druid has been kind enough to give us healing supplies and has also told me that it may be possible to enter the cave on skulltop through one of the eyes. Mischa says brusquely. Let us move on to the hermit Tarik
"Do we go all the way out to the edge of town before visiting the outfitter? I was under the impression that we would visit the old hermit last." Casimir says impatiently.
Uh, Tarik's fought th'ogre before m'lord. He could tell us 'bout things we wouldn't think of. If ye wan't'go ta th' Outfitter's first, we'll do as ye say, he shrugs his massive shoulders and scratches behind his ear, briefly, as if hesitating, but I'gree with th'witch on this 'ne. Tarik, then th' Outfitters. Saves us a backtrack later.
Did you catch any of that? Bec asks Newt in a low voice.
"Yep. Tell you later." Newt says with a bit of uneasiness. Anyone looking at him could see that he was minorly unsettled by the druid since he had never seen one before.
Mischa, a bit put out by siding with Bec, agrees. What we find out from Tarik will guide what we may need from the outfitter. Let us be on our way
As the group heads outside of town and to the south they eventually come to an old hut that is located on the western bank of the river. As they prepare to approach there is a grizzled looking old man chopping wood just outside the hut.
As the group gets closer you can see he has but one arm and the other is completely missing. Tarik stops chopping the wood as the group approaches and spits "Go on now, get outta here, don't want done of whatever it is you are selling." He waves his one good arm in the air as if to try and 'shoo' you away.
Ho there Tarik! It's Bec! Not sellin' nothin', ju'need t'talk to ye 'bout somethin'! The large youth pushes forward so that the grizzled adventurer can see him better. You've heard 'bou' the ogre, haven'ye?
"Heard about it? Boy, I have came toe to toe with that beast. When it first came here." he then turns really sour.
"Did you come here to make fun of me boy?, To make fun of the fact that that son o b&%~! took my arm?" as he says this Tarik pulls the axe from the stump of wood in front of him.
Lord Casimir steps forward to try and diffuse the situation "We have heard of your mighty effort of Tarik. That is why we have come seeking your council, for only you would be able to provide us the kind of insight that we seek. Only one that has bravely come away from a fierce battle with the ogre and lived to tell the tale. If we must also fight the ogre this day would it not be better that we talked to you first than if we all went unprepared and were slain?" he says nervously.
Lord Casimir did not know if his act would hold up to a veteran warrior but he crossed his fingers and hoped he had pulled it off.
If you had come to me for aid before you tangled with the ogre single-handed, old warrior, then maybe you wouldn't have gotten hurt. If you had come to me after then perhaps your arm would be saved.
The words are sardonic but the tone is one of deep respect. Mischa could understand someone who cut themselves off from the rest of the world after all and his taking matters into his own hands when the rest of his people wouldn't is also something she can relate to.
She essays a (very) short curtsey towards Tarik to emphasize her respect.
Newt steps forward and speaks.
"I know! Help us learn about the Ogre. When we prevail, you will be vindicated. You may not have your arm back, but knowing that it is put down will rest your mind. No sense having that weight burden you forever. There are better things in life to be happy about. You're alive! I like being alive very much, and I enjoy seeing new people, yourself included. Help us, brave ogre fighter. Your tale will be sung for years to come!" Newt says with enthusiasm and confidence.
"Wow, that sounded better than I thought it would. Hope he listens to me."
Bec listens to Mischa for once and holds his tongue.
Tarik ignores the young noble and the witch. He thinks it all sounds like a script written in a book and Lord Casimir sounded almost as if he was trying to manipulate him. However what the gnome spoke seemed to be sincere.
Ignoring the rest and turning to Newt, Tarik responds "You seem like the only one of your companions that really is sincere in your cause and in seeking my aid. I tell you what little en' you make this fellow here and his girlfriend" pointing to Casimir and Mischa "chop the rest of my firewood here and when they are done then we will all go sit down and discuss the matter further. Do we have a deal?" he ask inquisitively.
Mischa's eyebrows shoot up and her eyes start to narrow with anger before she catches herself and realizes that she treats the people who come to her secluded hut in a very similar way to gauge their sincerity. Either you have no eyes, or no sense you old fool. she says and smirks as she walks up and grabs the axe from him and starts chopping the wood. She chops her own firewood all the time after all.
Tarik quickly snaps back at Mischa's comment "But I will have firewood." he laughs. He then turns to Casimir "You to boy, don't let your girlfriend do all the work."
Bowen mutters to Mischa:
To Tarik he says, "What my short companion failed to mention is that time is not on our side - we aim to catch the ugly brute in his lair. And if it comes to a fight, it'll do us little good to be winded and sore from splitting logs.
"Just tell us what you know and let us be off."
Lord Casimir boils on the inside. There was house boys that did this kind of menial work. He was a noble, not a manservant he thought to himself. It was warm out and he would get all sweaty chopping the wood and his armor might get dirty, he so wanted to make Bec do it, but then he was afraid that he would offend the old coot, or worse yet offend Mischa. He didn't like the witch at first but she was growing on him.
Lord Casimir walks over to Mischa, "Let me know when you need a break and I will chop for awhile." he then looks around "Unless someone else has a axe I could use?"
Tarik looks at Bowen, "Well son if you are in a rush and all, then why don't you help your friends chop the wood. The more choppers the faster you can get done."
Bowen's hand protectively grips the haft of his axe protruding from behind his shoulder.
"This was made for chopping skulls, not wood," he growls. "And it's a family heirloom besides."
Mischa doesn't really pause in her work. She feels she has something to prove to the aged man. Of course she probably had a good century on Tarik but humans age so fast. This hermit has been away from the town for so long I doubt he cares that the ogre has carried away two villagers to eat she remarks casually hoping she can help Bowen goad Tarik into coughing up his information faster.
Tarik responds "If the ogres got 'em they is as good as dead. He took me arm in one hefty swing of his club. Smashed every bone in it too. I still managed to drive his sorry ass back to his cave, even wit one arm. Made him think twice bout attacking, that's when he came up with this scam of taking offerings from the town to keep from attacking it. I even amputated my own arm and bandaged it up during the process as well, so I don't think chopping a little firewood is gonna hurt you, family heirloom or not. Chop Chop. I will answer your questions while you work. Looks like the elven girl gonna best you manly folks anyway." he looks over at Mischa and kind of looks her up and down. "Not a bad site for these old eyes either. Kinda boyish and rough around the edges but shes got spirit."
As soon as she starts feeling slightly winded she will stop not wanting to seem like she's panting or out of breath and serenely hand the axe to Casimir. Turning to face Tarik with hands clasped low in front of her the only part of her body that's even visible is her face, all else is billowing robe. She says Six may succeed where one failed and fortune may smile on the poor girl taken from the tavern if we hurry. But how were you able to drive it back when so injured?
Tarik looks at Mischa "Well first off I am... well was a pretty god shot with a bow so I managed to get him from a distance with a few good shots with me lucky arrows. I have been back up there a few times since kinda scoping him out, trying to watch his routine. One of the eye sockets on the hillock is definitely a chimney of some sort due to the fact I have seen smoke coming out of it on more than one occasion, can't remember exactly which one it is though, right or left. There is also a hidden entrance around back through some caves if you can find it. That should give you a few options on entering the caves. Ogre seems to be the quietest at night, must be sleeping or drunk considering all the ale the towns been giving him." he again looks over Mischa "You ever thought about maybe dressing more like a girl? Would probably help your chances with your boyfriend here." he says looking at Casimir now chopping wood.
Bec waits for Casimir to show signs of slowing down, and then moves in wordlessly to take the axe and chop the remainder of the firewood. He does his best to be careful, neither rushing nor dawdling, and keeping his mind focused on the task.
He has no chances so it does not matter Mischa says dismissively waving her hand at Casimir. Then proceeding. It would be an honour if you would accompany us to the cave. Seven would fare even better than six and you know more of the ogre than any of us.
Looking at Mischa Tarik responds "Girlie my adventuring days are long over, I would only slow you down. Honestly I shouldn't have tangled with him in the first place at my age. I also don't trust the mayor, I tell you! Raising taxes every year. I'd bet the flock the ogre is in league with the mayor, and the gold he now demands is lining the town's coffers!
He then looks lost in thought a second before continuing. "You see there is an old tale that tells of an ancient warrior of great renown that is supposedly buried under Skulltop Hillock. His tomb is suppose to contain many magical treasures. I wouldn't doubt that ogre is just a scare tactic to keep people away from the hillock while the mayor or someone else strips the tomb bare."
He pauses briefly as if struggling to catch his breath. "Yall come on inside I have something for you." he says as he heads for the door to the old hut.
Bec shrugs and buries the axe in the chopping block after splitting one last log. He wipes the sweat from his brow and grins at Newt. Magical treasures, eh? He follows the maimed woodsman inside.
Once the group comes inside the rather old hut, it is sparsely furnished and quite dusty, the old adventurer walks over to a weaved straw basket and removes the lid, pulling forth from it a single arrow with a black-feathered shaft.
"This here is my only lucky arrow I have left. The other two was buried in the ogre the last time I saw them. Seeing how I have no longer a use for it." he says while looking at his missing arm. "Then I will impart it to you. Use it wisely and make sure you got a clear shot before using it." he lays the arrow down in front of the group.
The tip is engraved with magical runes as well as runic symbols that cover the shaft, the arrow is of suburb craftsmanship and design, the black feathers still in perfect condition.