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Julius holds up the brooch so Narkû can get a better look as well. Standing, he tosses some sand on places where a little monster gore may have gotten on his clothes and then proceeds to brush it off.
"This brooch appears to be one worn by some other Pathfinders. A group out of Cheliax calling themselves the Lions of Senara. Hmmm...I wonder what they are doing out here?"
Glancing at Sarala, Julius wags the brooch back and forth, "Think they knew something we don't about some things to find in this area?" His eyes narrow a bit and a strange little smile begins to form.
One of the dust digger's innards shifts as some gas escapes causing a small gurgle and tiny geyser of fluid to erupt. The sound brings Julius back from whatever daydream he was having, and he turns to look at the tentacled monster as if seeing it for the first time.
Looking back at the group, Julius again holds up the brooch. "This isn't really worth much. Not all of it is gold sadly. Split six ways, its value won't add much. Anyone have any objections if I offer it to me friend and associate Sarala? Assuming she wants it, of course."
He winks at the Vanaran.
"You shall not find any objections from me"
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Think they knew something we don't about some things to find in this area?"
"I think they were obviously unaware of some of the dangers and hazards inherent in being in this area."
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Julius laughs. "Okay, alright. Maybe you do have a sense of humor under that gruff exterior. I like it! But it's only one of them we've found so far. The others might still be alive."
Julius makes a fuss of pinning the brooch on Sarala's waist sash. Then he scans the area to make sure they haven't attracted the attention of any Gnoll patrols after the ruckus.
Seeing nothing that looks suspicious, the arcanist says, "I guess we'll have to be a little quieter going forward, eh?"
"They were probably out here, sticking thier noses in someplace they shouldn't be, and got eaten for it. You know how Cheliaxians are always thinking they are in control, and mix in some Pathfinder foolishness and you get all sorts of mess," Narkû finishes as he looks down at the viscera still clinging to himself.
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Current Effects: Whetstone edge on Falchion, +1 damage on next successful hit;
"Now I am no expert on the Pathfinder Society, or how it fields groups, but in my experience an established group, with a name and all will typically be between 4 and 6 people, typically having two martial individuals, a primary divine healer, a primary arcane caster usually one who disclaims they are "a blaster" and yet that's all they can think to do in a fight, there will be a ranged warrior, usually a ranger, and the sixth is often an ineffective rogue type, who disclaims any connection with the shadier elements of society, but the other five nod and wink and turn a blind eye, mostly because the individual is frankly not overly effective at anything, but they just really think he is a "hell of a guy," so they adventure with him. The more effective groups will forego the ineffective sneaky guy, and add either a bard, or possibly an inquisitor to bring a bit more utility to their groups." Thurrios takes a deep breath before continuing. "However, I also gather that there are times when the Society is forced to cobble together a "pick up group" or "PUG" that is less optimally formed, and will contain maybe three primary healers, or none, a bunch of overlap between capabilities, and a complete lack of coverage on some core group requirements."
Thurrios shuffles his feet thoughtfully, "Given that we have a named group here, we're likely looking at the first type, so which of the archetypes I described do we think this dead fellow falls into, so we know just who else we are looking for out here?"
Anapa simply stares. That was a lot of words. Not that he didnt follow. He was just not use to people talking that much. Quick. Efficient. Deadly. Thats what they did when they faught the Gnolls.
"Does it really matter? Either way, this group has one member short now. Which will increase our chances of capturing, beating or to over take them"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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"Are doing out here, or were doing out here? I'd hope that you'd do the courtesy of recovering my body if I were devoured by a horrible sand monster, like a proper friend. But I guess they're Cheliax," decides Sarala. She smiles at Julius's gift, "Aw, that's so nice!"
She looks to Thurrios and says, making a lazy salute gesture, "Ineffective sneaky gal here, at your service. I'm guessing this guy was someone who was walking ahead, though, so some kind of overconfident strong guy."
She glances about and then nods to Julius, putting a finger to her mouth to indicate she is hushing now and will continue to hush.
Thurrios gives Sarala an appraising look, "Do you have any ties to the shadier elements of society? I had mentally lumped you into the box of "secondary melee fighter," but I do not claim to be 100% correct in my estimations. As for recovering their body, it is my understanding that Pathfinder agents who have obtained a sufficient amount of renown within the Society are able to cash in that renown to have their bodies recovered by other Agents. In that respect the Society seems to function a bit like a brotherhood."
Thurrios turns to Julius, "you are a member of the Pathfinder Society, is there anything special you would like for us to do with the body?"
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Julius' jaw drops as Thurrios provides his analysis. His eyes glance around without moving his head at the others to see if their mouths happen to be agape as well.
Clearing his throat, Julius says, "If you are suggesting the Pathfinder Society encourages members who complement each other's abilities so they may succeed, I can certainly agree with that." He shifts from one foot to the other. "But as far as some of your other underlying implications...I think you may be a little quick to judgement there..."
Julis' suddenly smacks his forehead. Chuckling and shaking his head, Julius winks. "Of course...inquisitor. How silly of me to forget so soon." The twinkle in his eye and the wink to Sarala suggests he had in fact not forgotten, and he was just taking another opportunity to tweak Thurrios' nose a bit.
Narkû stops listening after hearing Thurrios says, 'Now I am no expert... blah, blah, blah.'
He gets out his whetstone and offers, "Anyone need a blade honed?"
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Current Effects: Whetstone edge on Falchion, +1 damage on next successful hit;
Narkû takes the temple sword and assess it against his own weapons.
Hmmm... looks like a sickle sorta, might even be able to catch someone by the leg or foot, if you swung low enough. Got a nice weight to it, but I know I can slice through more with my scimitar. But it doesn't hurt to get a good edge on this blade. It doesn't look as if it has struck anything harder than a rotting melon yet though.
He take a few minutes and puts a clean edge on the blade as they continue on thier missions.
whetstone
Price 2 cp; Weight 1 lb.
A whetstone allows you to sharpen a blade by sliding it against the stone at a precise angle. Honing a blade with a whetstone requires about 15 minutes of work and grants the weapon a +1 bonus on your damage roll the first time you hit with it. This only works on nonmagical blades.
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Current Effects: Whetstone edge on Falchion, +1 damage on next successful hit;
"I have my own, but thank you for the offer. It is good to see someone else who keeps their blade in good shape." the Ifrit gives the half orc an knowing smile. An un spoken thumbs up!
-Posted with Wayfinder
On to the city!!!
With the dust digger slain, the party continues on toward Kelmarane. Thankfully, the rest of the journey through the pesh fields passes without incident. As you move closer to the village, the sound of rushing water grows louder; flowing in from the north is the Kelmarane River, passing right through the east side of the village.
From this close, the village looks truly abandoned. Most of its buildings are in ruins, many lacking roofs or even walls.
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Julius attempts to survey the area to see if he can glean anything that would be of use to determining the best approach.
"Uh...This doesn't look anything like the map those rangers drew...does it?" Julius seems to be having a little trouble reconciling the town's layout with its natural geography preventing him from contributing any strategic suggestions on the matter.
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Sarala squints her eyes and points, "How deep is that river? Is there any way but the bridge to cross it without swimming? 'Cause some of you guys are wearing a lot of metal." She puts her hand up in the air and then drops it while making a deep Kerplunk! at about eye level, before she lowers her hand slowly to imply a sinking motion.
"Well, we could stand here yapping, or we could go on in and find some trouble? Slowly of course!"
"Come follow Narkû, Narkû will take off Narkû's armor when we need to swim the river."
He then turns and move to the east to find a place to cross at.
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Current Effects: Whetstone edge on Falchion, +1 damage on next successful hit;
It takes only moments to reach the small river which, at a glance, does not seem to be moving terribly fast. It does not appear to be very deep, either. This particular stretch is only about 30 feet across.
Thurrios will wade on in, Tempest drawn and ready for a fight.
As Thurrios wades in, he nearly takes a plunge, realizing that the river must be at least ten feet deep.
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Julius calls out to the two in the water. "Oy! Hold up! I have an idea."
Julius sets his pack down in front of Narkû and Anapa. "If you don't mind, boys, please help me when I ask. Thread the packs onto the line from your end. Then guide them across as you swim. If you want to thread and tie your heavy armor to that end, we can pull it across once all packs and everyone is across. But get the pack on the line first of course." With that Julius wades out to where Thurrios is currently testing the stream.
"May I borrow this?" Julius asks the inquisitor as he works to detach the dangling rope from Thurrios' pack. Once freed, Julius tosses one end to Narkû or Anapa and makes his way across the river offering the rope to Sarala as he passes her.
Upon reaching the other side, he braces the rope on a rock, stump, or bush and grasps the line tightly.
"Okay!" Julius calls out trying to be heard, but also not super loudly
It does not appear to be very deep, either.
We clearly disagree on what this means!!
It does not appear to be very deep, either.We clearly disagree on what this means!!
Sure, but +2 doesn't help any of those rolls, haha.
Narkû takes the end of the rope, holding it while the others make it across, then takes off his armor and bundles it together before attaching it also to the ropes.
This is what Narkû was planning anyway, watching the fireheads get wet, he thinks with a toothy grin.
"Get ready to pull, there is a lot of weight on this line."
With the end of the rope tied around this waist, Narkû dives into the expected coolness of the river.
he exclaims as he flounders around.
After a moment Narkû adjusts to the non-magical affect of reduce person, and he makes it across the river with the assist of the rope.
Thurrios sputters and spits out water as he emerges from the briny depths of the overly deep river. "Leave the swimming to the undine I say!"
Marossa gratefully accepts the rope when it is her turn to go across the river, shivering as she comes out the other side with her simple dress clinging to her skin. Marossa shakes slightly as she tries to get most of the water off of her, a blush forming on her face though she turns to Julius and says, "Thank you for the help Assayad, I'm not a very good swimmer."
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Seeing the shy blush on Marossa's face suddenly makes Julius much more aware of the woman's form as displayed by her wet clinging dress.
Red suffused his face as he struggles to find the right place to look.
"Uh...yeah, s-sure. It was no big thing...r-really..." the arcanist stammers. "Ah...so, uh...I know this stuff, and..."
Waving his fingers and stammering his way through a spell, Julius casts prestidigitation, and begins to slowly cause the rest of the water to slide off of the former slave girl. Though the process isn't super quick, eventually Marossa is safe for Julius to look at again. Which he does tentatively at first to make sure the young woman doesn't cause the quite the same reaction as before.
With a somewhat nervous smile and a last look at Marossa's blush, he turns to Sarala and begins to cast the same spell. He doesn't meet his close friend's eyes though. Imagining the grin that must be on her face, Julius thinks, I'm not going to hear the end of this for a while, I just know it.
"Anyone else wish to be free from being wet? Uh...I don't mean wet, but not covered in water. Not that water isn't wet, but..." Julius closes his eyes for a moment and can feel the heat of his face. Taking a breath, he starts over completely.
"Anyone else want to be dry?"
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Blushing furiously at Sarala's literal jabs, Julius finishes using his magic to get her dry. Swallowing whatever lame rejoinder wanted to try and escape his lips at that moment, he looks positively embarrassed and stares at the ground once he's done.
Then as if he can't help it, he raises his gaze to meet Sarala's. Slowly, a smile creeps its way onto his face.
"I was pretty pathetic, wasn't I?" he says quietly to his friend. Julius begins to chuckle, but it escalates. Soon he is shaking with quiet laughter as he tries to keep from being too noisy on their infiltration mission.
Narkû stands in his loin cloth watching and listening to Julius, while shaking his hair dry.
Hearing the offer he speaks up, "Narkû not need drying, but can you dry Narkû's armor, so it don't rust?" He then dumps his pack and unbundles his armor.
"No, but I appreciate the offer"
Following Julius' advice and Narku's example, Anapa does not have any difficulty crossing the river. A few castings of prestidigitation later, almost everyone and their gear are left more or less dry. The party continues its approach toward the mill, following the river upstream.
Climbing a small incline, you finally arrive at the village. Like many of the buildings in Kelmarane, the old mill has seen better days. Much of its surface is botched by what appear to be scorch marks, and the entirety of its roof is missing. Nonetheless, the mill's water wheel is intact, creaking as it steadily turns in the direction of the river's flow.
Aside from the mill, you see that there is another building on this side of the river. It is relatively more intact, and from here you notice small puffs of white smoke rising out of an open hatch on its roof.
There is also, conveniently, a small bridge joining this small section of the village to the rest.
"Gnolls approach. Everyone take a moment to prepare for battle and we will assault them."
Casts guidance on himself.
Narkû does see any danger, but is wise enough to the others warnings.
With a fluid motion, his falchion slides silently from its scabbard.
He shifts forward in the group, coiling the muscles in his legs, ready to rush foward at the slightest sign of trouble.
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Keeping their joviality quiet, Julius continues to sheepishly accept Sarala's digs and jabs over his previous embarrassment. The closer they get to the village, the quieter they become until Sarala indicates to Julius that she is going to be stealthy again and ceases any verbal communication.
As they approach, the arcanist wishes he had paid more attention to the lessons in quiet steps the Vanaran had tried to give him. he strains his eyes looking around for any sign they have crossed the threshold of enemy territory as well any more crazy monsters coming up from below.
Stopping as he sees the patrol, he reviews what he knows about gnolls.
Julius readies a throwing javelin and hopes he doesn't embarrass himself.
They widely revere the goddess Lamashtu, Mother of Monsters; it is a known belief that they were first contrived when the deity mated with a hyena.
You know there to be numerous tribes of varying strength in this region, the Kulldis only one among them. Though they are often at unrest with one another, all are subservient to one ruler, a mysterious gnoll known only as the Carrion King.