Yatpank pulls out his sling and throws one of his little stones against the giant roc.
But it goes horribly wide.
Milo tugged the reins of his horse, remaining calm to show it there was nothing to fear. The horse is still uneasy, but does not flee. He lets two arrows fly at the roc, bolstered by the powerful spells of his friends. Seeing that the roc chose larger prey and is leaving Yatpank alone, he commands Nix to attack it as well. Nearly invisible in the darkness, she streaks towards the enormous bird, snapping at any part of it she can reach.
Three mosquitoes, their rusty red bodies as long as a human's forearm, rise out of the night grass near the roc. They buzz around the roc's back, attempting to stab their needle-like proboscises between its feathers.
bless (+1 attack)
magic fang (Nix, +1 attack and damage
haste (+1 to attack, +1 AC, +1 reflex save, extra attack if making full attack action)
Pretty steps northwest to get to an advantageous position, and strikes with impressive speed at the creatures belly.
Idris drops her bow as the Roc strikes the horses, and screams, "Let them go, you f#&&ing overgrown chickenhawk!"
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The roc snaps savagely at Nix as the wolf darts in. Fur, feathers, and blood fly and mingle as the two beasts strike each other. Pretty deftly slips behind the roc and delivers a trio of strikes to its vitals, faster than the eye can follow. Idris ducks under a flailing wing and delivers a punishing slash down its thigh, and Maja adds a feathered shaft to the bird's feathered breast. The beast-bane arrow flares with a sickly green light as its killing magic is awakened, and with another ear-rending shriek the roc collapses on its side, flapping awkwardly and ever more weakly until finally movement ceases and the roc lies dead with the two dead horses clutched in its talons.
Yatpank decides to do better with his knowledge check.
"This one female. Was stocking nest somewhere."
"Hm. That would suggest we need to hunt down the nest and possibly take out a mate. I don't know if the young could be trained not to attack livestock, but if not, we might have to kill them too. That's kind of unfortunate, but it'd be more merciful than them starving to death."
Pretty looks sad that her horse is gone. She took a liking to the poor creature, but it was her decision that put it in danger to begin with. She keeps contemplative, watching the dead equine. "Wouldn't it make a nest in a mountain or something? It would be useful to have one of those trained, but definitely not easy to sustain it."
"Oh, by the way, well done everyone! This was fairly quick, although not with some losses. Is Nix ok?"
Six Seraphinas shook their heads sadly as she surveyed the scene. "Poor beasts, Maja can anything be done for them? Or would it be kinder to leave them to their well earned peace?"
Upon hearing the great bird might have a mate nearby, she scanned the skies, listening closely for signs of another Roc or at least where the wayward horses had gone to.
As Maja mentions the horses Pretty rushes after the one heading Northeast, since she is pretty fast and can see in the dark.
Milo goes with Pretty to track down the fleeing horses. He rides his own horse to chase down the escaped mounts.
The wounds on Nix close up with Maja's healing magic. The wolf licks her hand when she is finished, before returning to Milo's side. "Thank you Maja. It's like she was never hurt at all," Milo says, inspecting the area where the wound had been.
At Maja's question about the roc, Milo nods. " Ducklings treat whoever is taking care of them as their mother. They'll follow you all the time and mimic what you do. Sure, it's more complicated to raise a wild bird of prey than, say, a duck, but I could do it if we find them while they are young. "
-Posted with Wayfinder
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”Colonization? Fascinating. Funny to think about, in a couple thousand years someone like me’s gonna be poking around the ruins where you lived trying to figure out how you made a living by digging up your junk!” Narthropple laughs. ”You should bury an altar to some stone fetish or something, just to mess with them. ‘And from this, we deduce that the plains elves worshipped a pantheon of anthropomorphic forest animal demigods. And subsisted entirely on grass.’” The dusty gnome quiets her merrymaking with an impressive pull at one of the Levetons’ human-sized pewter ale mugs. Carelessly discarding the empty vessel on the table, she retrieves a parchment map from a leather case and unrolls it. Narthropple reaches down her shirt and pulls out a pair of spectacles, which she unfolds and plants on her diminutive nose with a flick of her wrist. ”Let’s see… gotta find some mountains east of here, then go south and east once we get across ‘em. You wouldn’t have happened to see some in your travels, by any chance?” Her map is woefully incomplete, with no real details about your lands and only incorrect speculation about the path of the river Shrike.
”Tartuk? No. That’s an odd name for a gnome, anyway. Why’d ya ask?”
Yatpank sees Seraphina’s worried skyward gaze. ”No more bigfeather. Always one, never two. If two, self-lords jump all on it and kill again. Yee-hee!”
True to the sage’s words, it seems the danger has passed. Slowly, the kobold travelers emerge from their hasty hiding spots, regarding you with considerable respect for your quick downing of the Roc.
Maja’s ministrations restore the stricken horses to health, but not to calmness. Their skittishness makes them severely difficult to ride, and you’re forced to swap them with some of the pack horses to continue. After you collect the fleeing horses, you are free to continue.
The rest of the journey goes smoothly. After a couple days of travel, the expedition arrives at the Trading Post. At your signal, Oleg trundles out and obligingly shoves the heavy gate aside.
”Lady Seraphina, Gentlefolk. So you lot’ll be the natives, then? Welcome to my home.” The heavyset merchant chuckles wryly as he looks at the assembled kobolds. ”I get all types coming through here, but I never thought I’d play host to a kobold. Come in, come in, let’s see how we can put you up.”
”Sootscale say thanks,” chirps Yatpank. ”Yatpank not think to sleep in wood-road-fort either! Self-lords come, things act crazy. Kobold sleep in wood-road-fort, fortman trade things with kobold. Yee-hee!”
Oleg scratches his head. ”I reckon I follow. Come on then, you’ll want to set your goods over there under that roof. They won’t go anywhere, don’t worry. You can see the things I’ve ordered for you while you’re there. When you’re ready, come on in the, uh, wood-road-house and get a bite to eat.”
For their part, the expedition kobolds seem a touch nervous and certainly out of place, but calm enough considering the circumstances. Following Oleg’s pointed arm, the laden Sootscales deposit their baskets in his storage area and head towards the common room.
”I’ve got to say, Lady, this is the queerest trade I’ve ever arranged!”
Kivan laughs at Narthropple's impression of future scholars.
"Ha, I would just love to see all of the theories and counter theories if I did such a thing. I would have to make sure to have multiple burial sites that all contradict each other just to start arguments as well."
Kivan takes a look at the small gnomes map and considers it for a few moments. "Well it seems nice and all, but this is really bad. I mean really bad. Here let me try and correct a few things here." Kivan then begins changing the map to better reflect the area and to show the correct way to reach the river Shrike.
When asked about his question Kivan decides to just explain a bit. "Oh, he was just a fellow that I encountered in the woods. He was a gnome who was reincarnated into the form of a kobold. Didn't know if you knew of him or not."
Before going to sleep for the day, Milo salvages some of the roc meat. Though it was best that the bird was dead, it would be a shame to let it go to waste. "Does anyone need any feathers for their pillow?" he jokes to no one in particular.
He does what he can to calm the horses who were nearly disemboweled by the roc, though he would probably be jumpy too if he had been in their shoes.
Milo's apprehension about the trading deal lessens as Oleg and Yatpank seem to reach some sort of understanding. He helps with unloading the pack horses and the kobold's goods before joining the group in the common room. "Good to see you again, Oleg! We brought you some... um... chicken. We have more than we know what to do with."
"Yes, please, and some scrambled roc eggs with bacon, if you would." Pretty seems happier, now that the horses are fine and still alive. "Do you have any idea where such a creature would nest, Milo? Anyone?"
Pretty enjoys the pleasant encounter, since this would make quite a story to tell to her children one day. At this moment it all sounded so weird, but she hoped it would be more common in the future. They had halflings in their society, so why not kobolds? Anyway, the rogue was afraid because the situation was very frail. She scouted around the structure of the fort, to guarantee there were no assassins anywhere. The tiefling also wants to get to know the new guards, if any.
She had acted on instinct as the great bird had swooped down upon them, but now that the danger had passed, Seraphina examined the corroded flesh and acid burned feathers of the dead beast from her breath attack. There appeared to be no residue left behind, but still she advised everyone to avoid eating from that side of the creature. ”Gracious, we must advise our friends not to impede my view of an enemy. I think that vapor would have damaged anything it touched. Milo, I don't suppose it is possible to backtrack an avian creature?”
Sera smiled and gave the nervous merchant a soothing pat on the arm. ”Ah, remember even the most trite of customs were once strange and new. I think the Sootscales will surprise you, given the chance. We should take some care though. Is Lord Corsan and his armed escort still here? Do you have any guests who are travelling through? We wouldn’t want to startle anyone and give them cause to worry.” She knew the common reaction to a group of kobolds that most folk would have and wanted to be sure not to bungle into hostile strangers by mere oversight.
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Narthropple watches attentively as Kivan sketches on her map. "Wow, a lot of this was just plain wrong. There's a cartographer in Pitax that's gonna get my boot up his arse next time I blow through. I owe ya one, buddy. You said you're interested in Cyclopean stuff too? I'll make sure to stop by with something for you later. Unless I get turned into a kobold, I guess. Gross! Think of all the little clicky-clicky scales. Would be a pain to keep from getting all rough and scratchy. Anyways, we've rested long enough, still got some time left on the road today. Thanks again!"
The gnome thumps you on the shoulder with a surprisingly heavy hand for her small body. From the knots of muscle running up her arms to the well-worn leather garb to her carelessly tied back hair, nothing about Narthropple suggests a particular desire for manicures. She scatters some gold on the table for the Levetons, shoulders her pack, and leads her companions back on the trail.
Each of the kobolds offered a feather by Maja take one, marveling at the size and strength of the massive yet lightweight feathers.
Svetlana is indeed hard at work in the kitchen. The warm yeasty scent of baking bread spills from the main house with every opening of the door to the common room, and Maja finds her in the kitchen splitting her attention between tending a smoky oven, a boiling copper cauldron of carrots and potatoes, and a haunch of venison spitted over the cooking fire. A window is wedged open to let the cool spring air provide relief against the heat of multiple fires, and a half-empty pitcher of iced water perches on a countertop. Svetlana straightens from her work, wiping dough off her hands on her apron and offering Maja a sideways hug to spare her the flour. "Why hello, Sister," she greets you. "Good to see you again! Oleg said you'd be bringing an unusual trading group through today and I thought it'd be best to be ready. I don't know their customs, but I figure some meat, potatoes, and bread can't be too ill received, right?"
Outside, the kobolds are filtering into the common room, looking about curiously at the strange surroundings. For the diminutive lizards, walls of wood and carpeted floors must be as strange as adze-hewn tunnels and rush nests to you. Following your example, they hop onto the bench seats of the Levetons' common room tables. The Sootscales show a distinct preference for the seats closer to the hearth, and a few are bold enough to claim the stuffed chairs around it. When Svetlana starts bringing out food, their attention is cemented on her and they watch eagerly as she serves plates of her hearty fare. Unsurprisingly, the Sootscales' table manners are atrocious. The thought of waiting for all to be served before eating never crosses their minds, and those served last get agitated watching those served first. Knives and forks are likewise disregarded as the little lizards employ their natural teeth and claws to the task at hand. Napkins are for peoples foolish enough to waste perfectly good grease. Before long, the fruit of Svetlana's labors has vanished as if into the air itself.
Yatpank remains outside the longest, lingering with the trade goods and taking inventory. "No visitors at the moment besides Mast- Lord Corsan and his escort. A couple gnomes came through from the west yesterday, headed to the grasslands to the east. Some kind of historians, they were, all talk of digging and mapping. Kivan took well to them. Most talk I've seen out of him since we've met."
Wait, how did you know that?
His task completed, Yatpank rejoins the group as all head to the common room. "Trade is good," chirps the old kobold. "Fortman has all things Sootscales asked. Very good things for kobold. Yatpank ask for one more thing, yee. Fortman has fire-drink in wood-road-fort? Yatpank has silver to pay."
"Aye, I've some fire-drink. You don't need to pay me, friend. I made a good commission brokering your trade. It's on the house." Oleg follows Yatpank's confused look and laughs. "My apologies, I forget to speak simply. It is free, a gift. Come, I'll show you my stock and let you pick."
Pretty finds no trace of assassins as she patrols the interior of the fort. All seems well. The men that Kesten sent with Kivan are Arkady and Maksim of Grayhaven, and Harris and Gael whom you know from earlier. They keep separate from the Sootscales and wear their swords, but appear at ease and non-hostile. The four retainers have drawn up chairs around a table outside the stable, and the three who aren't on watch game at cards and dice to pass the time. Although it's only morning, a half-full bottle of ale stands on the table next to two fallen empty ones. The men pick their teeth and smoke as they watch the arrival of the kobolds, returning to their cards once the Sootscales move to the common room. It appears that they're playing a popular tavern game called "Three-Dragon Ante". Although it's invariably a gambling game - the point of which is to amass the largest horde of gold coins - no money is stacked on the table. Instead, the men seem to be playing for wooden chits.
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After the Sootscales have feasted, the common room settles into something of an impasse. The kobolds look around and the Levetons look back, neither sure of the customs of the other. "Well," ventures Oleg. "The day is yet young. What's the latest from your keep? Plans for the day?"
Idris watches the Sootscales eat, and if Svetlana seems annoyed at their manners, will whisper to her, "I'm sure they don't mean any rudeness, they've been walking for days to get here, after all, and I'm pretty famished myself."
"Rocs tend to live in the mountains, but with a wingspan like that, they can fly pretty far from their nests to find food. Anvar, the dwarf traveling with Varn mentioned they were setting up their holdfast at the base of some mountains out to the east. Probably a good starting point. No way to track the bird back, though."
"Good to see you're here safe, Kivan!" Milo takes a seat on the bench next to Kivan. He marvels at just how much the tiny kobolds manage to eat. Nix investigates the Sootscales, waiting for them to drop any scraps. Finding that they eat every last morsel, she curls up next to the fire. During the meal, Milo recounts their confrontation with the roc, pointing out how Yatpank's advanced notice and their planning made short work of the bird.
Pretty notices once more the presence of the second part of the band. After the feast she is kinda concerned about the hunger of the ones in the open field, but they should be ok on their own.
Kivan smiles at the gnome woman's thanks. "Don't worry it was my pleasure, and thank you for your kind offer. If you or your companions need someplace to rest after traveling feel free to come over by our new city and rest a while." Kivan accepts the thump with a bit of a quizzical look not understand what it might mean, but thinking back to his encounters with humans he thinks it must be some sort of friendship ritual, so he smiles and nods as they leave happy to have new friends.
Finding that he has nothing but time on his hands Kivan thinks about reading more of his books, but he realizes that he already finished them a few weeks ago. Going back to his quarters Kivan decides to experiment with a few of his new spells. Kivan first uses False Life for the first time to experience having necromancy bolster his life force. Deciding to go outside afterwards Kivan will cast Fly and spend a few minutes just traveling through the sky like a bird before finding that flight holds no interest for him and landing. Traveling back to his quarters Kivan decides to use Summon Monster III to learn more about archon culture from a lantern archon.
Kivan sat in the corner further from the fire and closest to the shadows. He also kept his hood up though he nods to Milo's cheery greeting. "It's good to see you as well Milo." After hearing the tale of the roc Kivan actually chuckles. "You shouldn't worry about my safety you are the ones who faced a roc and lived to tell the tale. I just rode through some forest with an armed escort that could flee easily if needed. I'm only sad that I was unable to test out some of my spells on it. Luckily I still have had a chance to keep in practice."
Pretty cannot help but to notice how Kivan had changed. It was weird to see. The more she kept looking at him the more she realized something was wrong. He was returning greetings in an usual manner, made no comment about the kobolds being so... wild, and was having a normal conversation as if he was definitely not weird. She made a mental note to investigate what happened later.
Seraphina had a puzzled look on her face as she wondered over something, but she said nothing at this time. She seemed pleased to find Kivan in brighter spirits than usual. "You may soon have your chance, Kivan. It seems we may have encountered but one of a mated pair. Perhaps you can help us hypothesize about where their nest might be?"
She spoke to the Sootscales in Draconic, trying to help encourage them toward making a favorable impression. "Svetlana is widely regarded as a wonderful cook. If you agree, it would be customary to compliment her food. Another common human custom is to give thanks for your host's hospitality by trading stories of news or interesting travels or adventures. I would be happy to translate if any of you would like to share."
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”Business is always good,” says Oleg with a small chuckle. ”Even when there’s not much of it. We’ve put back enough canned and dried goods to last us a good long while, and coin to buy vittles for a longer time yet. Recall, I came out all this way for a spot of peace and quiet. If travel’s light, I get my wish. If travel’s heavy, I get good coin. Either way we come out on top. It’s been more to the light side of recent, which suits me fine. I’m spending my time building an, ah, addition to the house. For the newcomer. Crib too, an’ some new shelves. Bit rusty on my woodworking – been many a year since I’ve turned hammer and saw towards anything trickier than a wall. “
”Haven’s a nice name for your town,” comments Svetlana. ”I’m sure it’ll be just that, with you all to watch over it.”
The Sootscales listen to Seraphina’s advice, and take turns going around the tables praising Svetlana’s food with pauses for your translation. One of the kobolds proclaims that Svetlana’s cooking is “better than Sep-Sep’s rabbit”, a claim that causes consternation with another Sootscale – the aforementioned Sep-Sep. After a sharp look from Yatpank, Sep-Sep concedes politely that Svetlana’s fare is “as good as my rabbit”.
Likewise, the Sootscales have some stories to tell. You hear of the time when a careless Sootscale got caught in a snare of his own devising and hung upside down for most of the day until a sentry found him. You hear the story of a great flood that threatened to submerge the entrance to the lair but was held back by quick sandbagging. A particularly old kobold recounts the time of the previous priest and recites the legend of how the teachings of Erastil came to the Sootscales. Your rescue of the tribe from the clutches of the gnomish imposter is recounted, then Yatpank lightens the mood by telling the Levetons how he tricked you and a bear into thinking he was injured to lure the animal into a trap, complete with pantomime and caricatures of your worried faces. Several hours pass in the storytelling, and the mood grows comfortable.
After making the most of the Leveton’s hospitality, the Sootscales decamp to swap goods. Oleg and Yatpank tally the goods traded and come to satisfaction, whereupon the trading party divvies up the goods for the return trip into individual loads. The trade concluded, the Sootscales rest in preparation for their journey, sprawled out in the common room. Even here, they post a watch – at least three kobolds at any given time are awake, although feigning restfulness. When the sun dips low on the horizon, the kobolds stir and take up their burden.
”Sootscale thank you, Fortman,” says Yatpank in parting. ”Good trade. Sootscales come back, make more trade later. Soon be not strange to see kobold in wood-road-fort, yee!”
”Good-trade to you as well, Master Yatpank,” replies the heavyset merchant. [b]”You’ll be welcome here whenever you stop through.”
With that, the Sootscales depart for the trip back to their lair, which passes uneventfully.
Kivan puts his mind to the problem of where rocs would live.
"Well I remember reading a few things about rocs, but only a few. They are relatively rare after all."
Kivan listens to the tales seeing how kobolds communicated with stories to lighten the mood and keep history. Kivan doesn't see anything he needs to contribute so he just sits back and takes a few notes on kobold culture.
As the evening comes to a close Kivan waves the kobolds off as they leave.
Milo gets an idea when Kivan mentions practicing his spells. "Say, Sera and Maja were casting spells on us while we were fighting. But Nix needs practice to get used to being faster, for example. When we get back to Haven, would you be willing to practice with us?"
After dinner, he sits back, content to listen to Oleg and the kobolds' news and translated stories.
Following Maja's lead, Milo investigates if he can get the ingredients for Kivan to craft a collar for Nix that would help her fighting prowess.
Pretty is definitely glad about the results of the trade. That would definitely open some new connections, both to the Sootscales and the Havenites. She still had some concerns about having a competitor beside their city, but the kobolds had their own culture and would probably never want to become a fully integrated community.
As morning came Pretty went up the wall, trying to spot the other party of kobolds in the distance, to later gather with the others. "So, are we going back now, or exploring some new places on the way? We still have some days before the end of Erastus."
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Pretty can just barely make out the camouflaged and stealthy figures of the other Sootscale group. If you didn't know what to look for you'd be hard pressed to see anything out of the ordinary at all.\
Kesten Garess stands before the assembled founders of Haven, already garbed in traveling gear. The comfortable cotton blouse and trousers are gone, along with the silk smoking jacket. In their stead, Garess is clad in thick canvas clothing reinforced with leather to resist the wear of the saddle. A cuirass is his only armor, though his sword rides at the ready in his scabbard.
"As I understand, then," he says to the collected group. "I am to ride for Restov to raise a sizable company of soldiers. Experienced sword-hands, of Rostlandic or other local birth if possible. Emphasis on being orderly and mannered - relatively, that is, for mercenaries - and of suitable disposition to secure Haven for an indefinite period of time. All names to be discretely checked for security. No newcomers to Restov accepted so as to eliminate Daggermark agents. Informed immediately that kobolds are not to be harmed unless absolutely necessary for the defense of Havenites. As near to fifty of said soldiers as possible. To be paid for out of the treasury, one month's salary paid as advance."
Kesten thinks for a moment. "Do you desire me to arrange for standardized equipment, or shall I have them provide suitable arms? A question of appearance, mostly. Any merc worth his whiskey can fight with a whole slew of weapons. On the topic of appearance, shall I arrange for a tabard, heraldry, a pennant, unit standard, or other device?"
Kivan seems a bit surprised by Milo's question, and he nods although a bit hesitantly.
"I can do that, but most of my spells are meant to harm or hinder our enemies rather than assist my allies. I can go get some spells to assist getting Nix used to magic but I will need to head into Restov to get them or else I'll pay a lot for them. I probaby wont be able to get them this month but maybe next month we can start."
"I feel that there's no reason to not explore, so let's go."
Idris sees Kesten off. "Standardized equipment probably isn't necessary if they have their own material already. If not, we can acquire it. Their initial pay would be reduced to compensate for having to pay for it."
"We should explore the area to the south of Haven, I think. I'd like Bara to come with us."
Seraphina was pleased to see the Sootscales offer their compliments and share their stories. Things had gone about as well as could be expected.
She responded with glee upon hearing Svetlana and Oleg's news. "You are expecting? How splendid! The first child born to our new nation. Simply wonderful, I hope for the very best for you and your family."
In the quiet of the late evening, Seraphina read her mother’s latest letter and felt such a swelling of pride within her breast as she that she thought her heart might burst forth from her chest. She understands, nay, approves her wayward daughter and she comes to visit soon! She thought to herself, much relieved. But then as she read the final lines, she felt the sting of trepidation as it coiled around her heart like a treacherous serpent. She worried over what she would see there in her mother’s eyes, but knew that it was time to face it, whatever she might feel over her daughter’s changes…
She set to composing her reply with the intention to send it along with Kesten Garess when he left to gather troops. She did not trust her correspondence in the hands of just any messenger any longer.
She nodded in reply to Kesten's rundown of his instructions again. "With our home field boasting the advantage of higher ground, I would prefer to have skilled and equipped archers among our forces. Don't be in any hurry to conscript those you suspect to be of a less than savory character. We want protectors, not predators. I trust you to know the difference." She said with a wry wink before pressing her sealed letter into his palm. "Please see that this passes through only trusted hands on it's way to Stoneclimb. It's been some time since the Assassins have troubled us... I worry over what occupies them."
I am so pleased to hear you will soon come to our new lands! I shall pray for the roads to clear quickly so that I may see you again as soon as I may. Please encourage Uncle Gurev to come as well, if he wishes, and my brothers, if they can leave their duties for a time. Do not travel light though, Mama. I have made enemies who may try and harm or capture you for leverage. Do not give them an opportunity, come in force and only with those guards whom you have trusted for years.
It has never been my intention to be away from you and our family for long, but my path seems drawn on by fate. I look forward to the time when we may discuss these matters in person, but I promise you, if you wish to stay with me, I would be overjoyed for your company. Whatever changes in form, aspect or status I may undergo, my heart is ever devoted to you, Mama.
Sending all my love and joy that I shall hold you soon,
Seraphina
When a free moment presented itself, Seraphina went to speak with the young smith with a handful of copper coins. "Tell me, can coins be flattened into thin plates? I have a thought that I could make something special with them, but not as they are now. Can you help me?"
State whatever you'd like to accomplish the rest of this month as your character and we'll move on to the next month. You can find all the mats you need for the magical items you'd like to craft, within reason. A 100,000 gp diamond will take some finding, but a well-made amulet or masterwork sword is easily found.
Milo thinks about what Kivan says. "I hadn't thought of it that way. But you're right. You usually cast offensive spells, Maja tends to cast spells to help the group, and Sera does a mix of both, now that I think about it. Alright. If you have time and spells to share, I'd appreciate it."
Once the group has returned to Haven, Milo finds a clearing well away from the distractions of the small town. In the evenings, after the work of building the new houses and showing Idris's recruits the ins and outs of using a bow, he goes to the clearing with Nix. He sets up a sort of obstacle course using logs, rocks, empty crates from the initial shipment of good from Restov, and whatever else he can find in the area. Then, he spends the hours before darkness commanding Nix to weave in and out of the obstacles, climb on top of others, run across unsteady logs, and scent out pieces of meat. If Kivan, Sera, or Maja stop by, he asks that they cast their spells on Nix so she can get used to their effects.
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Seraphina follows the persistent ringing of hammer on anvil to locate Haven’s young blacksmith at work inside a timber and canvas framed shelter built around an anvil and charcoal forge.
Tallus Biddlet, late of Westwind, is too involved with his labors to notice the entrance of his ruler. Shirtless, but clad in a thick leather apron to shield him from the worst of sparks and slag, the wiry young man holds a small length of glowing iron firmly with tongs while his hammer pounds it into the shape of a nail. A dark-skinned youth of ten or so years works the billows, keeping copious air flowing into the forge to stoke the coals into the high heat need to work metal. After a few minutes’ work, Tallus finishes the nail and flicks it into a pail of water where it hisses and boils. Straightening, Tallus wipes his brow and catches sight of Seraphina.
” ‘polegies, Lady Medvyed, I didn’t hear yeh come up, over the hammerin’. What kin I do fer yeh, this fine day?”
Tallus listens to your questions and thinks them over. ”Well, Lady, yeh could hammer coins flat an’ join ‘em together. Called ‘forge-welding’, it is, when you put two things agin each other in th’ forge an’ hammer the twain together. ‘Twould be a right lot of work to make a decent size o’ plate from coins. Easier t’work wit’ an ingot. Melt a sight o’ copper down, pour it into a clay mold t’make a bar, then work that. Workin’ th’ copper’ll make a stronger plate than one full o’ lines from coins welded together, too. If’n you’re tryin’ to make a complex shape, castin’ it in copper t’start out wit would be a sight easier too. Now, you cain’t make armor from copper, what have yeh in mind?”
Kesten listens to your instructions and acknowledges them with a curt nod. “Keenly observed! I’ll look for archery as a strong qualification. Master Corsan, I shall seek a good price for your gloves. Until I return, Ladies and Gentlemen.”
Mikmek listens to your description of the type of arcane workshop you’re interested in building. Squinting his eyes with concentration, the diminutive engineer sketches out some plans on a piece of parchment. ”Something like this?”
Idris’ recruits are fairly raw, but take to their training with a will. They willingly cross blades with you, but are quite apprehensive about sparring with Bara. Stripped down to short breeches and a loose work shirt, her impressive musculature is on full display. Bara leaves the sword-play to you, and focuses her efforts on training your recruits in wrestling, grappling, and knife fighting. After the first few throws, the hapless recruits start to trust that the inevitable dagger at their throat is just there to emphasize the point, and that the half-orc isn’t looking for an excuse to kill them. After several weeks of intense training, the recruits look less like a gaggle of dandies and more like the hard-eyed killers one could trust to stand between the town gates and an enemy.
The recent arrivals to Haven don’t seem terribly suspicious, and you are easily able to snoop on their comings and goings. For the most part they are normal citizens of the north, seeing the opportunity to be had in settling a new land in the tradition of the River Kingdoms. The only unusual new settler is Hamid al-Habesh, the dark-skinned child taken in by the blacksmith. Hamid arrived on a trading caravan and stayed behind without discussing his plans with anyone – when the caravan left, Hamid remained. From his complexion, name, and accent, you easily mark him as a Qadiran. He keeps to himself, spending most of his time sweeping, cleaning, and working the billows at the side of Tallus Biddlet. It seems that Tallus pays the lad fairly, slightly more than the usual going rate for an apprentice, but Hamid spends very thriftily – he makes his home on a bedroll next to the forge and dines thrice daily on plain bread and soup.
The business of escorting kobolds and running the kingdom finished, you turn your attention to exploration with the twin goals of charting out the lake to your south and hopefully finding the roc’s nest.
Location: Hex S8 (Plains, River, Lake)
Date: 14 Erastus, 4710 Absalom Reckoning
Temperature: 76° F
Weather conditions: Clear Skies, no wind.
Food: 20 days' supply
On a refreshingly cool summer’s morning, you strap your gear to the saddle of your mounts and head off to the southeast. The sensation of pushing back the unknown is at once familiar and strange – just when you’d laid the cornerstones of your settlement, here you are in the wilds again.
You follow the coastline south and east, finding territory fairly similar to the shoreline upon which Haven is built. The lake tends to meet the land abruptly, with only a slight beach of smooth pebbles to show the transition.
Near midday, you happen across another river that feeds into the lake. Much smaller than the Shrike, this new stream is also shockingly cold – much colder than the main river you’ve found so far. This suggests an origin at the top of a snow-capped peak or from glacial ice rather than a lowland spring. The river varies between twenty and thirty feet across but only reaches a depth of two to three feet.
Further down the coastline, you are attracted to a hilltop rising against the shoreline in a manner very similar to the mound on which your keep is perched. For roughly three miles, the shoreline rises above the water to present a swath of 40-foot high cliffs that limit access to the water below. The cliff tops are thick with stinging nettles and are otherwise featureless, but Milo and Pretty both spy a hidden trail that scrapes down the Cliffside to a secluded pool at the lake’s edge. It seems to be a game trail, of sorts – no humanoid hand turned its labor to carve the ledge from the cliff face. It seems instead to have been crafted by the passage of something hard and flat, repeatedly, over a great many years to widen and smooth a natural fault into a passable trail. The trail descends directly to the pool, which looks to be about fifty feet in diameter. From this distance, there is nothing remarkable about the pool save that it is an unusual geographic feature to find on a shoreline of an inland lake. Such a pool would be more commonly found near an ocean, filled and replenished by tidal action.
When the boy is not around Pretty tries to get some information about him from the blacksmith, Tallus. Spending such a long time with him, it's probable the man knows something. Then later she will approach the boy, just to ask how he's doing and what does he think about the town. She thinks the boys might now want to tell his stories to an unknown person, so she will give him some time to think about it, while making friends with him.
Pretty is happy to be on the road again, although she is worried about how many days will they spend on this exploration. A lot could have changed while they were gone.
At the cliff she spots and denounces the existence of a trail to the others. "There's something living down there, but I can't think of anything right now, can you?"
The cool morning weather and chance for exploration is a welcome change to Milo, compared to the strenuous work of building the mill followed up by training in the afternoon. Nix trots alongside the horses, occasionally disappearing behind a hill or into the tall green grass to chase a rabbit or follow a game trail. "Based on the tracks, I don't think the roc lived here," Milo jokes when he notices the unusual trail. He follows Maja in looking at the trail and then investigating the pool.
Kivan nods at Kesten's words and hands him the gloves hoping to break even at least.
Kivan agrees with Mikmek's plan.
"Yes, something like that should allow the proper place to think and study. I would be very grateful if you would do this for me Mikmek."
Kivan looks down the trail wondering what kind of creature could have created it.
Kivan is sure to let the other approach ahead of him this time, so if there was a nasty surprise in the water he wouldn't be the closest to it.
Idris draws her sword and unslings her bow in order to be ready for anything.
Seraphina smiled warmly at the young apprentice as she waited for the blacksmith to notice her. She considered Tallus' input on making copper plates while tapping her lips thoughtfully with a forefinger. "Hmmm, I have a certain... affinity with the metal. Acid does not corrode it, merely causes it to react in striking ways. Shall I show you?" She reached into her robes and withdrew a small vial of acid, opened her palm and poured a bit onto the copper coins on her palm. A green froth bubbled forth and streamed down her arm, not harming her coppery skin in the least and once it had bubbled away, revealed the coins now stained in a marbled pattern of red, burgundy and greenish blue patinas. "Do you see? Not acid nor time can mar it's beauty, only enhance it. I want to raise a memorial with it, etch the names of lost loved ones upon copper plates and unite them in chains that will be swayed by the wind. As time passes, it will change us all and the names too will be changed. Like our love for them, their names will never fade completely but the color of our pain will be reflected there. At first sharp and bright, glaring in the sunlight, but in time it will soften. Take on a different quality and tone, just as the colors will. Do you understand? Do you think it will work?"
Her usual Mage Armor in place, Sera reached into her pack and withdrew with a thunderstone in hand. "Well, should we make a ruckus and see what happens?"
She tried to think what might have made the trail...
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Examining the trail, you pick out some details that aren't immediately obvious. The center of the trail is smooth and flattened, but irregular scratches on both sides of the smooth path indicate objects being thrust into the ground and then scraped forcefully. The marks go in both directions, up and down the trail. A creature that crawls on a flat belly and has clawed legs thrusting out on each side would make such a trail. Perhaps a giant turtle of some kind?
Your suspicions are confirmed as you reach the edge of the cliff and come into plain view of the pool below. An enormous reptilian head, armored in coal-black scales and armed with a ferociously pointed beak, thrusts itself out of the pool's depths. The giant turtle gapes its beak and hisses a warning to you, a raspy rattle that echos off the cliff face. A cloud of mist sprays forth along with the sound, flecking the area around the turtle with drops of steaming water. Blank, dark eyes regard you with unthinking hostility.
Pretty is wide-eyed at the size of the creature. First the Roc and now this, soon enough they will find the owners of the megazords. "Look at the size of that thing! Do we need to kill it?"
Seraphina reacted similarly, a look of awe on her face. "What are our options, do you think? Milo, could it be possible to make friends with such a creature? I suppose we might be able to subdue it, but what then?"