Mahorfeus' Legacy of Fire (Inactive)

Game Master Mahorfeus

"Forbidden? Forbidden by whom?" he looks inquiringly at Sarala and Julius, "how often in the annals of your Society has it proven a good idea to seek out 'forbidden' caches of treasure, be it knowledge, gems, or other things?"

Jullius replies, "Uh...what exactly do you mean by 'forbidden'?" He mimics the finger gesture Thurrios implemented. Turning his head towards Felliped, "What exactly do you mean by 'forbidden'?"

Felliped is not given a chance to respond as Thurrios ignores Julius' question as the ifrit begins to pace and make some rather grand assumptions regarding the followers of the Dawnflower and the Pactmasters. Julius glances around at the other caravan members such as Hadrah, Narkû and Hadrod with an alarmed look as Thurrios begins spilling out their "treasonous" concerns about the Pactmasters' motives in front of gods and everybody.

Pressed further by Thurrios, Felliped is clearly intimidated by the inquisitor. But then Thurrios says,

""...appreciate being toyed with, Pathfinder," he spits out the term. "Your Society is well known for meddling in the affairs of men, nations, and gods, quite often with disastrous consequences. I do not question the intent of the Society in doing so, merely its competence."

"Wait...what?" Julius gives a Thurrios a look like he's grown another head. Forgetting the attempt he had been about to make to try and get Thurrios to be more circumspect as other caravaners were present for the "interrogation," Julius looks at Sarala in utter astonishment.

"Well known for meddling...? Quite often with disastrous consequences...??" Julius trails off and Sarala lets out a small tirade admonishing Thurrios for his insensitive treatment of the former prisoner.

Waving his hand, Julius dismisses the topic of Felliped and his emotional and physical needs like the unimportant part of the conversation they are.

Julius marches up to Thurrios and pokes him in the chest as repeatedly as he says, "Sir Thurrios the Furious Forgiving Redeemer of Ifritdom, you're sure not earning your name today! And aside from that, it's now clear to me you have -zero- understanding of what the Pathfinder Society is and what it does. I cannot even think of what you could possibly be talking about when you say 'often disastrous meddling' I have read and listened and personally researched much of the Pathfinder Society history, and I can think of nothing that would even come close to matching the description of what you are saying. You have no right going around disparaging our organization with such slanderous ludicrosity! We are explorers, scholars, and adventurers whose goal is to find and discover lost knowledge and treasures from civilizations and empires long turned to dust. Is our fault if some of those things turn out to be ill-intentioned on the part of their creators? You would rather someone with intention of using those powers instead of just finding them or learning about them to get their hands on on that kind of knowledge or those kind of treasures? The kind down below that temple??"

Julius takes a breath.

"The Pathfinder Society does the Inner Sea a service, Thurrios! It is true that many dark artifacts and forbidden knowledge are in our hands. But so to is the desire to safeguard that and keep it safe from those who would do more nefarious things, like the Aspis Consortium! You truly do not know what you are saying, and I pray to Nethys it is only because someone else filled your head with such ignorance and not your own thoughts that lead you to make such absurd claims as 'disastrous meddling'! If you think the Pathfinder Society has caused some disaster, name it, and I am confident I can explain it to your satisfaction and remove the wool from your eyes."

If it pleases the court, allow me to remind everyone, that we're getting into metagame territory here. It's fairly unlikely that the people in this conversation will really have any true knowledge of Pathfinder historical events unless said event occurred in the area for which a person lived. Anything else is probably conjecture or hearsay acquired as a local told an exaggerated tale they heard from their grandpappy who heard it from his grandpappy. Obviously anything actually printed in a Pathfinder Chronicles volume would be up for discussion as those stories are widely available...true or not. And I would expect those tales to be less likely to describe failings on the part of the PS.

Narkû watches on as the others yell at each other and just shakes his head in disbelief.

He turns slightly to Felliped and returns to his simple inquiry for knowledge.

"Felliped, do you know anything about Chupacabra, Kezurkian or who Xulthos is?" Narkû asks while he chews on another piece of meat.

"... so if Sarala doesn't eat meat, she can get her portion of meat and other things, and I can get my portion of meat and other things, and then we can put them together and split them with me getting both portions on meat and she gets the other stuff, but she is small and probably doesn't need all the other stuff, so I can have a bit of that other stuff as well... he smiles as an idea of food pops in his head.

"Sarala, I did it mean earlier-earlier, back in the town, I meant earlier today, when he was telling us his story. It is clear that he was, shall we say, less than thorough in his reporting of his group's intent."

And separately in response to Julius...

"It is surely not my intent to judge all members of your society everywhere and paint them with the same brush. I am certain the vast majority, yourself and Sarala for example, are well intentioned, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions, as my father was wont to say. By what measure would you judge these here? We're their actions well intentioned? If you say they were, I will ask 'were they sanctioned by the Society?' If you say their intentions were not honorable, then it reflects poorly on the Society, despite their mission not being sanctioned, for while rogue agents are not doing things at the behest of the Society, they do still represent it in their deeds and dealings. It may not seem fair to judge the Society so harshly, by not giving credit for the unapproved honorable actions of its Agents, while holding it accountable for dishonorable intent by rogue Agents, but I believe only such a conservative measure of merit can be applied to such a large organization. Would not an army of Crusaders intent on ridding an area of demonkind have its reputation justly blackened should a few malcontents among its host take to rapine and brigandage?

Sarala makes a few more clacks with her teeth and takes a few slow breaths, focusing on bringing out her calm again. "I just mean, it sounded to me like he included the parts that he thought were relevant, 'cause I asked him to give an overview. He was telling me his story! Your questions were fine, but he's been cooperating with us and is clearly an ally, so the way you were acting towards him was awful." She glances to Julius for a moment and considers as she chews on a boiled root vegetable.

"We've got nothing but our intentions, wherever they might lead. You, me, all of us. We form our intention into action and just hope that it works out. Felliped's admitted that they were out for fame and fortune, unsanctioned by the Venture Captain, and that it was a mistake. But that's pretty grey still, and the most I can say about it is that they didn't do enough research before diving into danger," says Sarala, shrugging lightly. "But again, we're learning from the mistakes of others. And if there were an army of Crusaders with some doing raping and pillaging, I'd expect the rest of 'em to put an end to that. And I'd expect the Society to do the same. Still, sorry I lost my temper. I'm not supposed to do that."

"Well, surely one would hope. As an aside, when you write this up for your Society, don't mix up the words 'rapine' and 'rape' for they are not the same. So now, where were we? Oh right, we were trying to do enough research before diving into danger, unlike Felliped and his friends."

Sarala scuffs her foot across the ground and puts her hands in her pockets. "Misheard you, sorry. Julius'll be doing the writing for the most part anyhow. Just be considerate of helpful people, that's all I'm saying."

Julius shakes his head in befuddlement.

"Your logic is utterly confusing, child of the Dawnflower. Unless I am misunderstanding you completely, you say any organized group should be held accountable for the actions of individuals who are not sanctioned by that group. This statement alone would be the undoing of every religious church we currently pay homage. Is not your own very occupation to hunt down and deal with those heretical to the faith of Sarenrae? What then is the purpose of your actions if I—we—are to hold the followers of Sarenrae accountable even for those whom you yourself have condemned and done your utmost to undo? Why bother at all since the religion at large has received such an uncleansable stain upon its name? If we are to hold to the standards you advocate this moment, there would be no sense in pursuing the concept of truth as we would be holding everyone we meet accountable for any lie they have ever been associated with or accused of being associated!"

Waving his hand in dismissal of such illogic, Julius says with a frown. "I for one will never be beholden to such hogwash. If that is what the Dawnflower teaches, then she will lose my offerings going forward. Nethys' teachings are much more broadminded, and I have always considered him to be my patron as it were. Let Pharasma judge me by the standards he has taught me and none other. And so I say!"

Julius raises his hands and summons the power of the ether around them and launches two spears of ice into the sky to display his faith in the god of magic. Two ARs used to do so. Then he makes some arcane signs and speaks in the tongue of magic as he intones a prayer to Nethys.

"You describe the problem quite well, but your conclusion is a little flawed. What you pointed out, but did not account in your ledger, is that Sarenrae does police her flock. That is exactly my function. What Sarenrae does provide for, is forgiveness, for all who seek it. And she teaches it even against Her enemies. There is clearly no requirement for individuals to worship Sarenrae, nor technically a reason for them to recognize her existence, although that would quite literally be denying that the sun rises each morn. But for those that do follow Her, they should follow Her properly, and will be given the opportunity to repent and start doing so. When the subject has nothing to do with religion, still repentance, and forgiveness are the preferred choices, even in interpersonal relations. However, followers of the Rough Beast shall be given no quarter and no opportunity for redemption."

Thurrios looks inquiringly at Julius, "is it your assertion then that the Pathfinder Society punishes its miscreants? I must admit my ignorance on the details of the inner workings of your Society. You will understand that, from my perspective, the Society might seem like a group of artifact stealers and plague bringers. Not literal plagues I suppose, not that I recall anyways. And that nothing we have heard from Felliped regarding his friends would lead one to believe they were other than that. Had they come and acquired this 'forbidden' treasure, that they might have loosed a great calamity upon the peoples, possibly an actual plague. What form of punishment is usual for the Pathfinder Society to mete out against such as they who operate outside its sanction?"

"Being eaten alive by gnolls?" Felliped offers meekly. It is difficult to tell whether he is being serious or just trying to inject levity into the situation.

"As they are likely agents of Rovagug, they would not be a very acceptable form of punishment, regardless of how effective they might be."

"You, sir, cannot have it both ways. I did no such thing not taking into account you are the police force of Sarenrae. I said as much! And pointed out the uselessness of even doing so from an outside world perspective if such a thing as redeeming your own miscreants does nothing to assuage the damage dealt to the organization's reputation as you have proclaimed is true for any such group. Just because Sarenrae offers forgiveness, how then should those who do not actively participate in her worship see you? What matter does it make to me if I am slighted by one of your heretics, if I am then forevermore able to hold the worshipers of Sarenrae accountable with no hope for them ever to soothe my anger as I am allowed to view them as a whole and never for the separate pieces which make the unit what it is."

Julius mouth twists in distaste. "And as for artifacts stealers and plague bringers...! Once again I challenge you to name your assertion such a thing has ever occurred in the annals of history. Locating lost items is not stealing. Retrieving grand things created to have a purpose just because the last one to own it chose to selfishly seal it away in a tomb is not stealing. The only plague the Pathfinder Lodges have ever brought upon the face of Golarion is knowledge the bane of ignorance! I, for one, will entertain ignorance as little as you do your heresies."

Julius has completely lost sight of the original task, that being to acquire any information regarding Kelmerane, the temple, and anything else. Given the arcanist's propensity for intellectual things, it is unlikely he will stop debating unless someone intervenes.

Sarala keeps quiet for a bit, hands still in her pockets and watching the exchange still scuffing her foot on the ground before deciding to interrupt. She speaks first to Julius, "I think we can talk about this another time, 'cause we still have some info to gather before the night ends and," then to Thurrios, "Whatever you might think of Felliped and their band, we need to take measures to find Oxvard's fate and rescue him if possible. Their venture captains will look after handing out appropriate consequences and I'm sure you wouldn't want to advocate for poor Oxvard getting chewed up by gnolls."

She straightens her posture up a bit and then says to Felliped, "So, with that in mind, I think Narkû asked you a question."

"I did give credit and say that you pointed out my role, did I not? As for examples, well, we needn't look too far I believe, since your brethren here have seen fit to 'liberate' just such a treasure so 'selfishly sealed away.'"

Thurrios turns his attention to Sarala, "with that said, Sarala is quite right, there is yet another member of your band of reliquary requisitionists that might seemingly need to be rescued." And without looking back at Julius, he finishes, "lest you think I did not hear your last, calling my beliefs heresies does not offend me, or the Dawnflower, for as you are an unbeliever, your opinion is thereby worthless on the subject."

Sarala catches Julius with a finger in the air as he seems to have been about to expound further. His eyes roll to the side in Sarala's direction and then his mouth close with a clack. His posture relaxes and his finger drops. He gives Sarala a sheepish look.

"Heh, heh, I guess we are getting a tad carried away. I mean look at me. Trying to argue with a close-minded inquisitor. That's almost as unreasonable as debating Anapa about Anubis' traditions!" Julius shakes his head at his own foolishness. He gives everyone a rueful smile.

He reaches back and scratches his back with his eyes cast to one side. "Sorry about all that. I just get a little fired up sometimes."

And to Thurrios, Julius says, "And as usual you twist my words. I referred to the heresies you track down and eliminate, not your own beliefs. As you yourself said, to deny Sarenrae is to deny the sun. That you would claim I am an 'unbeliever' is beyond ridiculous." He rolls his eyes at the ifrit who seems to try and intentionally misunderstand Julius whenever possible.

Felliped seems lost amid the great debate, his fear of Thurrios gradually waning as he becomes increasingly confused.

"Huh? O-oh right. Sorry," he says when Sarala speaks to him, seeming thankful for the change subject. He taps on his chin for a moment and chews on his mustache, trying to recall any details pertinent to Narku's question.

The bard starts to speak quickly, seeming much more in his element when he is sharing lore.

"Can't say I've ever heard of chupacabras. Then again, I'm not from around here. Might be more of a local thing.

"But the name 'Kezurkian' does sound familiar now that I think about it. I can't speak Gnoll, but I have a handy little spell that lets me understand it anyway. Had to scrape the materials for it out the bottom of my pockets though. Anyway, he is a demon that is patrolling the upper tier of the village. Not very good at his job, apparently. The gnolls were complaining about how he'd scream bloody murder at the sight of even a stray bird or tumbleweed. They've almost taken to ignoring him completely.

"I have no idea what kind of demon he is, but they're all a little similar. Forget electrical magic and poison - they're useless. Acid, cold and fire aren't much better, but they'll go through if they pack enough punch. They're resistant to mundane weapons - you either have to have something made of cold iron, or a weapon that's aligned. The thing you really need to watch out for is their ability to summon other demons of their kind. That can really turn the tide of a battle if you're not careful.

"As for 'Xulthos'... sorry, that name doesn't sound familiar either. Sounds pretty weird though, if you don't mind me saying."

Narkû scratches his head a few times as his brow curls up, obviously wrestling with some thought. His eyes quickly scan the kitchen area.

"Narkû will ask Garavel if he has any cold iron weapons, but if he doesn't Narkû will come back here for a couple of those cast iron pans," he says with a big smile.

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Current Effects: Whetstone edge on falchion and scimitar, +1 damage on next successful hit;

"A demon you say? Anapa will be glad to hear of such an opponent, I'm sure. Any idea which of the demonlords it serves?"

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Felliped shrugs. "I dunno. But if it's been bound here in the Material Plane, I guess that doesn't matter much."

"I suppose then that there is nothing for it but to go out to handle the creature," Thurrios states and as he shoots an impish grin at Julius, "and perhaps see what sorts of ancient valuables have been selfishly horded away by their previous owners. Shall we?"

"Now that's more like it! After all if it's an important artifact of your beliefs, it shouldn't be left to rot in a gnoll-ridden town." Julius says with a wink.

Julius yawns now. "But first, sleep. Sarala needs her rest after all. Such a delicate flower she is." Julius grins and sticks his tongue out at the monk while squeezing one eye shut.

"Yeah. A flower that could kick your butt." She pauses for a beat. "Which I guess is pretty much any flower," Sarala teases in return.

I'll see about moving us along once I get off work. You'll still have time to interact with the NPCs in the morning, but go ahead and post anything you want done before you go to sleep (like Narku's question to Garavel).

Narkû tracks down the Majordomo and asks questions of him.

"Sir, are there any cold iron weapons that Narkû can use when he goes back to the ruined village? Narkû has learned that there are demons there and they need cold iron to be killed. Narkû would want two-handed weapons, but anything that does damage is good."

As he waits for the answer, he asked a couple more of Garavel.

"Also do you know the name Xulthos? Or why the Packmasters would have sent troops in the past to the village?

The following check can be made by anyone that interacts with Garavel for any length of time.

Narku finds Garavel two doors over from the kitchen, within the monastery’s library. He is with Almah as always, the merchant princess having apparently chosen the room as her abode. The Pactmaster Guardsmen are nowhere to be seen, evidently residing in another room for the night. Almah pores over some old maps of the region, raising no objections to the half-orc’s entry. Garavel is quick to receive him, perhaps eager to find out what he wants – it is hard to tell, stone-faced as he is.

The majordomo strokes his lantern jaw thoughtfully in consideration of Narku’s request. He glances over at Almah, who looks away from her papers to exchange a nod with him before returning to her studies.

“We have a small supply of surplus equipment. Likely of inferior quality to what you and the others already possess, but there may be some cold iron. I will have the guards open the crate in the morning.”

Garavel seems far less receptive to Narku's other questions. Almah almost seems to make a point of ignoring the exchange entirely.

"I do not know of that name. And the Pactmasters often send soldiers to protect their assets. Kelmarane is no different. Now, if that is all, I should be retiring for the night."

As the sky starts to darken, Hadrah shows you to a common room across the hall, which has been cleaned up considerably since your last visit. She encourages you to sleep there, as the roof is (mostly) intact. Hadrad, her husband, and almost everyone else has taken to sleeping in the nave, which is more than large enough to accommodate everyone, if a little exposed.

The caravan's mercenaries are content to take the watch there, rotating through their six members in pairs. The red-armored guards similarly rotate through their four members one by one, standing guard at Almah's door.

Excepting the twin Howls of the Carrion King that punctuate midnight, the night passes uneventfully within the safety of the monastery. You wake just in time for breakfast, Hadrod and Hadrah having prepared several portions of sausage, eggs, bread and fruits. The mercenary named Dullen makes a scene out of begging for seconds, to no avail. However, they are all too happy to give Zastoran a second plate when he explains that it is for Marossa. Dullen's compatriots appear to find this very amusing for some reason.

Within the nave, Garavel looks on as two of Almah's guards unload a sizable wooden crate from one of the wagons parked within. They immediately set to work with crowbars, prying open the lid; within is a small cache of metal weapons of various shapes and sizes. They sift through the contents, inventorying the weapons they have available. None are in pristine condition, but all appear to be perfectly serviceable.

The other adventuring group Almah had hired on is still noticeably absent.

Anapa has been awake since before dawn.

Refreshed Anapa joins in on breakfast. Enjoying it in silence. He eyes the crate of weapons

"Where might be the others? Are we the only ones? That seems like a lot of weapons for the amount of people present"

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Last Night:

Perception: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (2) + 0 = 2

"Narkû thanks you Garavel. Narkû looks forward to seeing what other weapons were brought. So no additionally knowledge of Xulthos or about the Packmaster men, but Narkû will keep digging for both Mistress Almah and you. Knowing information is the best way for Narkû to beat Narkû's opponents."

At Breakfast:

"So was the other group suppose to be here this morning? If so, did you prepare enough breakfast for them also? 'Cuz Narkû and Dullen can always eat what they can not." Narkû asks at the thought there may be more breakfast available.

"Now let Narkû see what is in those crates."

Sarala gets up early to do some physical conditioning, and goes on about how much better she is feeling to anyone who is willing to listen to her talk.

When it comes to breakfast, she notices the conspicuous absence of the other team, but stays silent as her teammates ask about it. When Narkû speaks, though, she offers, "If you want my share of sausage, be my guest, Narks. If you have any fruit left, I'll go tradesies, but if not then don't worry about it."

Narkû quickly grabs up his plate and slides all the fruits, which seemed to be just barely staying on the edge of his plate, over to Sarala, as his knife expertly stabs at the sausage.

Thanks!

He turns and gives Dullen a smile.

Thurrios, still wary of what the Pactmasters know about the "treasure" in the temple, chooses to let the conversation be started elsewhere, while he observes.

Julius looks up from where he's studying his spellbook, a sausage tube sticking out of his mouth almost forgotten. He raises a quizzical eyebrow and looks around at the mention of their missing colleagues. He looks as if he wants to say something, and his eyes go slightly cross-eyed as he looks at what seems to be preventing it. Grabbing the sausage, he bites down and begins chewing the meat. Waving the other sausage half like some kind of teacher's pointer, Julius gestures to his current party companions.

"To be fair, if the others are near as adventure thirsty as the rest of you, then most likely, they didn't have a sensible arcanist with them to remind them to check back in and deliver random Fellipeds to the camp." Julius smiles smugly and stuffs the rest of the sausage in his mouth.

He turns his head back to his spellbook and holds out his plate to Sarala without looking so she may have the fruit he has not already eaten.

Sarala gladly piles up all the fruit that she can get to continue her meal. "You know, it might have been 'cause of a safe night's rest that isn't in a gross harpy's gross hut and gross snake head stew- no offence Thurrios- but I feel really great this morning! I sure hope the others are alright, too, though. We should make plans to search for them if they don't report back sometime soon. I'd hope they would do the same for us if we disappeared!"

"That is a great idea Sarala. We would like others to search for us if we went missing. Yes. I agree. If they do not arrive soon, we should go look for them"

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Almah arrives at the scene with Felliped in tow. The bard's first peaceful night in several days appears to have done wonders for him.

"The weapons are spares, mostly," she says to Anapa, nodding toward the crate, "Once Kelmarane is resettled, we will need to arm a militia. For the time being however, they are at your disposal."

Just about any mundane martial weapon can be "borrowed" from the crate.

Having sifted through the crate's contents, Garavel approaches Narku with a sheathed blade in hand. He holds the longsword out to the cavalier, unsheathing it just enough to expose the base of the blade.

"This is all we have, I am afraid. We were not anticipating demon-hunting on this venture."

Anapa looks up from his meal
"Demons? I was not yet informed of this... where is this abomination? "

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Sarala starts looking through the weapons that are brought out. She tries to get a good look.

"Well, it doesn't like you have any of those... oh, you know, the sticks with the other sticks that are tied to the main stick and you, you know, you spin it around and you go. Whack, whack, whack! And they hurt the guys you hit them with really bad... Or what about a whip that's made out of knives that you like, cut people with the knife whip? Whooosh, aaaaaaaugh!" Here, she mimes blood coming out of the hypothetical wounds this weapon would cause. "Or a sword with the seven little sword bits that come out so that you can make with extra stabbing? Or! Or, like a sickle connected to a chain that you can throw and people get cut up from you swinging around the chain. Not as great as a sword whip, but I'd take that too." She looks up from the weapons and sighs dramatically, then puts her hands up in the air so that she can make an extra exaggerated shrug. "I can think of some other awesome weapons, but this looks like boring axes, spears, swords and that kind of stuff. I'm not even sure how to use stuff like this, but I'm sure you guys might find a use for them." Her hands go back into her pockets.

"Oh, yeah, Anapa. I forgot to say. There's a demon out there. I could try punching it, but I don't think that's gonna work out for me very well."

"I told you Anapa would want to know about the demon!"

"Nothing so exotic," Garavel says humorlessly.

Felliped, on the other hand, gives a hearty chuckle.

"Makes sense that they'd have to be weapons just about anyone can use," the bard remarks, stepping forward to claim a weapon of his own. Anything in the crate would be an improvement over his broken spear. He quickly decides on an ordinary longsword and sets about strapping it onto his belt.

"You have all done remarkably well so far," Almah says to you all, looking to each of you in turn, "I believe that Kelmarane's liberation may be close at hand. Closer than I had thought possible. But there is some bad news, I am afraid.

"Father Zastoran has informed me that Marossa is in no condition to rejoin you on your mission. Given her rather severe addiction to pesh, she is currently in withdrawal. In no condition to move around, much less fight gnolls."

"I am sorry, Almah," Garavel interjects, his visible regret a contrast to his usually stony demeanor. "If I had known sooner..."

The merchant princess merely waves him off, shaking her head as she so often does.

"The fault is not yours, Garavel. I am the one that told you to acquire slaves if necessary. Hers is not an unusual condition... it is something I should have anticipated."

She looks back to your group, her expression firm.

"It goes without saying that you will be one member short. I trust that this will not hamper your efficacy?"

"I wish her luck on her road to recovery. It will be long and hard, but worth it for all in volved. We will push forward with out her." he affirms

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"While it is most ufortunate for her, I cannot imagine that losing a pest addict will really slow us down. Should she improve, please express to her my well wishes, and that I would love to wield Tempest by her side again in the future."

"I understand," says Sarala, "It's a shame that she's not gonna come, she is a good musician. I hope she feels better and can break the addiction."

She nods to Garavel's reply, remarking, "Well, if you ever kick up any kind of weapon that looks unusual, let me know, 'cause I have an interest in that kinda thing."

"Very good," Almah answers, satisfied - or perhaps relieved - by your responses. "There will be other ways for her to prove her worth here.

"For now, the village should remain your top priority. Be cautious - the Kulldis have undoubtedly noticed your handiwork by now."

"Those who acquired the service of a demon needs to step lightly" he repsonds
"They are treading on very dangerous ground"

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"Oh, yeah, I mean... when a bunch of gnolls don't show up to dinner, people notice," says Sarala. She then nods to Anapa and says, "Well, apparently this is a particularly stupid demon too, according to Felliped's report. So if having a demon is treading on dangerous ground, then having a stupid demon is probably even worse. I'm about ready to head off into the wilderness again. You guys?"

"Ready. Hunting we shall be"
he readies his weapon and makes sure his armor is on correctly

"I'm ready."

Narkû is ready."

Almah, Garavel, and Felliped all walk with your group to the exit to see you off. Just as you are about to depart, Almah moves to stop you, a look of worry flashing over her face.

"There is one more thing. As I said before, the village remains your top priority. But should you find the time... I would like for you to find out what happened to the others. I had sent them to patrol the old trade route, as well as the area east of the river. It is quite possible that they could return at any time, but if anything has happened to them..." Her voice trails off, before abruptly taking on a harder tone. "...it could be evidence that the Kulldis have a reach beyond the village."

The merchant princess quickly turns to walk away. Garavel simply nods at you all expectantly before turning to follow. Only the Pathfinder bard is left standing with you.

"Speaking of missing friends..." Felliped starts, watching the two walking away. "Should you run into Oxvard, give him my regards. Best of luck to all of you... though maybe you don't need it."

Sarala nods firmly at Almah's request and then speaks to Felliped "Yeah, we'll keep an eye out for him. I think it's better to have good luck when you don't need it than bad luck when you do, so thanks. Send us as much luck as you've got from over here while you're not using it anymore."

She gestures off, and follows the direction she pointed in.