My goodness!!! Well I bet the rest of the envoy are glad that you happened along, aren't they? The flamboyant Gnome pauses for a moment and quirks a brow, he looks like he's going to say something, or perhaps ask something, but then clearly thinks better of it. Good, good, good! Brickasnurd drains the last of his fourth tankard, and stands up, more than a bit wobbly. Whoa! That last tankard of Jak's pale ale went right to my head. I best be calling it a night master Illiam. He says, and then bows deep at the waist, sweeping one hand up in a wide arc, a true courtly courtesy. I thank you for the tales my friend. We should do it again some time. For now though, I'd best get to bed. Shop won't open itself in the morning. After shaking Illiam's hand and giving his farewell, Brickasnurd makes his meandering, and slightly unsteady, way to the door, smiling and waving at a many of the commoners as he does so.
After an early morning wake up call, before sunup in fact, from one of Jak's youngest barmaids, who introduced herself as Margery, a girl just out of her teens with auburn hair, green eyes and a petite figure, Chillel went to check on her uncles Evan and Dalton. She did so even before breakfast, and was much relieved to see that neither were symptomatic, but mentioned that they should head to Jak's whenever able to get a dose of the cure.
Dolok, after waking up somewhat astonished to find Master Figueroa out of bed and cooking breakfast, scolded him intensely and told him that Kairon said he should be on bedrest with plenty of fluids for at least two more days. It took some coaxing and convincing because the aging blacksmith woke up feeling so much better, but Dolok finally convinced him to get back to bed and rest. Dolok too went to check on his family, and told them to get to Jak's for a dose of their cure as soon as they were able, just to be safe.
Thus it was much later in the morning, a good couple of hours past sunup that the brave adventurers met, once again back in Jak's common room, to break their fast on some of his famous cinnamon pancakes and the beverages of their choice. A lot rolls through the minds of these brave heroes, things done, and things yet undone. Niggling the back of Kairon's brain is a brief mention by Lady Cirthana that Deldrin Baleson, the half-elf Sheriff, and a posse of his deputies took it upon themselves to destroy Brookman's well, burn out the Blackscour fungus, re-dig, and rebuild. A job that could have, and should have, been better done by the Lumber Consortium's laborers. Likewise Laurel's imprisonment weighs heavy on their minds. Yet, for all that, the thought that weighs the most, is that somewhere, in the town, the wood, the hills, the vale... Somewhere there is a force at work trying to kill an entire town of, mostly, honest folk. So, cinnamon pancakes and good company make for a jovial morning, but all the same, there are things to do, things to see about, and an enemy that must be found and destroyed.
Baradim sits back from the empty plate in front of him, licking his lips clean of the sugary sweetness and delicious cinnamon of Jak's most famous dish. The mood had been good, jovial, but there were pressing things to consider. There was a threat still remaining somewhere in the Vale, a threat that seeked to destroy Falcon's Hollow. It could've been the fey within the forest, angry at the mistreatment by the Consortium's forces. That enemy, while a good possibility, was also simply the obvious choice. The witch had the actual fungus needed to cause the plague and there was still those strange footprints that had come to the graves the day that they left.
"So, I am going to go to Milon's home today." The half-orc said somberly, looking at the bow he held. "This isn't my weapon of choice and his family could use the money such an item could fetch. Does anyone wish to join me?" It was not the most pleasant business but it was business to be taken care of now that the day had started anew.
"I'd also like to check the graveyard again, see if those footprints have returned or not. What do the rest of you have planned?
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Footprints? Illiam asks through a full mouth. He had been the last to wake up, finally awoken by the smell of cinnamon wafting up the stairs, and had sat down alone with a huge stack that he absentmindedly picked at as he manipulated cards in what looked like a game of solitaire, thought the complicated symbols on the cards were like no deck anyone present had ever seen.
"Footsteps by one of the fresh graves, the one of the widow that had passed away from the Blackscour. They came from the woods and then left back into the woods. They were barefoot, if I remember. Not that big either."
I agree that we should visit on the graveyard. Also, it cannot hurt to double check that there have not been bodies rising from the dead. We should also see Laurel Usessa to see if we can find out who was behind locking her up and getting her freed.
"Did I understand correctly, that Laurel's trial is not until Oath day? By my reckoning, that is still 2 days away. For someone who should not be spending 1 minute imprisoned that is a long time! Not to mention how long she's already been in there! I agree that we need to help Milon's family if possible and check the graveyard, but I think the first order of business is to try to talk with ... that greedy, good-for-nothing, and get him and the magistrate to see reason and free Laurel at once!"
Footprints near five days old, and after a rainstorm?! Kairon's expression is of unfiltered disbelief. This I have to see!
He lets the moment hang just a bit more before carrying on.
I'll go with you, Baradim, to see Milon's family, in case they want some counsel. Maybe I could help, there -- or do ya know what faith they keep? May be I'm not the preacher they're lookin' for. He takes another bite of food, chews, swallows. Reckon the most good we could do would be to get Laurel turned loose -- somebody'll get sick or hurt, and they'll need a healer they know. Gettin' her back to work's best -- 'specially after bein' treated so wrong. More bad stuff's bein' added to this account we ain't balanced yet.
But all of it leads to Kreed, eventually . . . . And I have a promise to keep.
I will go with you and Baradim, Kairon. Neither expedition should take terribly long. And after that we can see about Laurel? I am sure there is no good reason for her to be in a cell.
"Those in mourning tend to visit the graves more than once. Our trespasser may have returned during that time while the soil was moist." Standing up with a slow nod, he'd grin at Illiam.
"Let us see what we can find. Afterwards, Kairon, Chillel, we'll go to see Milon's family. I do not know their religious leanings but...a priest of Sarenrae is never an unwelcome sight to most. Then, we can deal with Kreed and get Laurel released from imprisonment."
Once everyone was ready to go and destinations and decisions had been made, Baradim would head out with his faithful companion at his side back to the graveyard.
Stretching himself, Goruck allows those capable of magic to decide the course for the day. Enjoying a hearty breakfast, the half orc nods as the plan takes shape. As they start towards the graveyard he quietly adds, "I'll travel alongside Kairon's group."
"If no one objects I will go to the grave yard as well. Never know when you may need to burn a body!"
Heading out of town the most expedient way, again, takes the group south of The Perch's palisade wall, down the, still a bit wet at this point due to the recent deluge, grass hill to the town's cemetery. Approaching the lines of marker stones, flowers, and in some cases small flags, the group passes by what must have been the pyre that Lady Cirthana and Deldrin Baleson used to exhume and burn the bodies of those that died of the taint. Ashes, mud, bits of bone, and, even after being rained on so thoroughly, the residual tell tale stink of burning flesh. It is a cold and sober reminder of what exactly was at stake here.
Before the group can even approach the grave of the old widow, Kairon is the first to notice, but then the entire party sees them as well, thanks to the recent rains making the ground soft and supple, a set of footprints that have come down from The Perch and moved among the graves. This, of course, is not terribly concerning, but what is concerning is that the footprints seem to have no specific place in mind, they just meander through the graveyard.
Chillel squats near some of the footprints with Athena on her shoulder, human and bird looking for signs in tandem, at least apparently. She speaks thoughtfully and slowly:-
"Frustrating. I know what questions to ask but lack the skills to find the answers.
Can anyone tell what left these footprints? They look the right size for human to me. Any insight into the footwear if any? Anything they dropped? Can you tell where they originated? Any sign they did anything to the graves?"
Illiam examines the tracks for a short amount of time and realizes they are from a human, judging from the indentation the prints, a man, who weighs between 130 and 150 lbs, and walks with the assistance of a walking stick or staff, which means he's either suffered an injury to the lower extremities, or is perhaps advanced in years. The tracks go right to the small gate in the palisade wall that leads to the yard of Sharvaros Vade's tower on The Perch. As was originally surmised this man did not visit any one specific grave or family, but stopped at several different grave sites, including each of the graves that were dug up so the bodies could be burned.
Maybe we can finally meet him, see if he has anything to offer in sorting this out . . . . What about trying to sense if there's anything going on in some of these graves that weren't exhumed and burned? We never found out exactly why the text said to burn 'em, and the quickest thing I can think of is that the bodies'd come back, zombie-fied. The widow's eyes bein' open the other day was . . . unsettlin'.
Illiam's sweep for magic reveals not even the barest hint of anything magical in the graveyard.
Feeling that tingling sensation once more, the swordsman drops to his knees among the dirt. Running the soft dirt though his armored fingers, he asks, "Shall we make to free Laurel then?"
Indeed, then perhaps to see the family of Milon. But let us not think too far ahead. I don't think freeing Laurel will happen just by us showing up and asking.
"Let us get going then." Baradim would say, whistling quickly for Kanga to come with him.
"But, ... wait! Guys? Aren't we going to do anything about Illiam's discovery of these tracks leading right to Vade? I've suspected him from the beginning as a possible one to be the cause of the trouble. Shouldn't we investigate this lead farther?"
We should and we will. But that may lead to direct conflict with Vade, and he is known as a powerful spellcaster. It may also take a long time. I think we should go and endeavor to get Laurel out of jail first.
"Okay, yeah, let's go see about Laurel!"
Letting the earth crumble beneath his touch, Goruck rises slowly. His tone brokers little arguement, being as solid as stone and the swordsman himself. "Indeed, let us give Laurel the cup of freedom so she may slake her thirst." The half orc stares at the footsteps leading away to perhaps a far more dangerous entity than anything that resided in the forest. "Vade is not something we should challenged half cocked. The battle is often as much a matter of the mind as an issue of the body."
Having decided that approaching Sharvaros Vade, which would first require getting past his walls and gates, without rock solid evidence is a terrible idea, the party makes their way back to town, up to The Perch. Thanks to a certain writ, and no lack of angry stares from some rather deadly looking warriors and magic-users the entire party is finally lead back into the Lumber Consortium's headquarters. Kreed, Payden, and several well armed guards are all taking up occupancy in the large circular room. Before anyone can even say anything, Kreed addresses you all. Before somebody erupts in a spout of supposedly righteous fury, he says looking right at Dolok, who, funnily enough looks very much like a volcano about to blow. Let me assuage your fears and let you know that I've already sent a missive to Vamros asking that he take a second look at his evidence, in the light of your accounts. He waves a hand dismissively encompassing the entire group, then continues. Payden's told me what the word about town is, and by that word I'd say the Consortium owes you something. The way Kreed says "something" makes it sound very much like his letter to Vamros is exactly all the payment the Consortium is willing to give for your services, which is rather ironic, considering, according to what you were told, the Consortium, aka Kreed, was pretty much behind locking Laurel up in the first place, as some kind of scapegoat to placate some angry voices of dissention. I'm certain knowing that Laurel was actively gathering ingredients for the cure, and that that cure was ultimately given away for free, will sway his ruling on her case. It's possible she'll be let out before the formal hearing on Oathday. It seems, by this little, seemingly prepared, speech that Kreed believes he has already addressed whatever it was you sought by coming to him, but he doesn't close there. I'll have that writ back now. It's a statement not a question. Seems to me you've done the work it was written for, and my guards have more pressing concerns than playing wetnurse to a bunch of city errand-boys and their tag-alongs.
In a loud, stern voice, "As I recall our duty was to get rid of this disease affecting the town right? We have found the cure which does get rid of the disease currently infecting a person, but that does not by any means stop it at it's source! started this intentionally and until we find out who that was and put a stop to their plans, this town, and thus is at risk! Rather than taking away that writ, you should be granting us further assistance! For one, you as the leader of this town, should have plenty of pressure you can put on the magistrate to speed up Laurel's release - as in "
"Also, we wish to speak with Master Vade and if you could provide assistance in any manner to contact him, that would be appreciated."
Dolok makes a fine point, Kreed -- we've gotten a temporary fix on this thing, but that's all. Seems t' me that having those responsible for starting the Blackscour still unknown, still unaccounted for, is a bigger problem than just th' sickness itself. In short, whether or not you agree: the job's not done yet. You'll be helpin' yourself more, in the long run, leavin' the writ in our keepin'. Besides -- we ain't put any of your crew out gettin' this far; any opinion otherwise, . . . Kairon sends a meaningful look Teedum's way, . . . is not near enough t' truth. The cleric's posture shifts the tiniest bit as he tries to keep anger from coloring his words. Got t' keep m'self together here -- 'cause this meet is like t' decide things for a long while comin'. 'N' if "errand-boys" and "tag-alongs" were th' folks it took to get this much done, especially considerin' the "tag-alongs" in question were folk you yourself near-insisted upon bein' part of it, you ought not be so quick t' dismiss us. Besides -- who else knows how t' make the cure? Say those responsible corrupt that new well, too?? What then, Kreed? You seem t' act as though y'don't have enough resources to turn t' fixin' the problem -- why else would y'need some out-o'-towners and locals not on your payroll to work on it? Way I figure it, the six o' us here are the whole reason you can look forward t' meetin' quotas here in a couple weeks. Seems that's worth quite a bit more'n "Yeah, ya did it, now get out." Gettin' Laurel released would be a less-than-acceptable minimum. 'Specially since yer the one what got 'er locked up in the first place. Do better.
Kairon barely pauses before he takes a new angle in the conversation: And a couple more things, Kreed. First: does the title Deepwood Fey Encounters mean somethin' t' you?
Chillel, who has been looking at Kreed's goons in a way as cold as a lethal blizzard, raises her eyebrows slightly when Dolok is less fiery than expected, then once again as Kairon outdoes Dolok for anger. When Kairon has finished she speaks calmly and rationally:-
As my friends indicated, your Lumber Consortium has gained a great deal by the sickness being cured. And you personally Thuldrin, seems to me you would have lost your job and your power in town at least had most of your lumberjacks died and the lumber business in this town come to a total halt. Yet here you are insulting and impeding us.
And a word of friendly advice. Get a large team of your lumberjacks working on rebuilding the well. Immediately. The deputies have their job to do, and people in the town may start to wonder why you and your Consortium have done nothing about it until now.
Baradim has stalked quietly behind the group, moving through the Perch and into the Lumber Consortium's headquarters. Things were going exactly as it seemed to be; Kreed was throwing around his authority and his belief that what he wanted would simply be the law. There was a new confidence in Baradim's steps, in all of their steps, and the hesitation that was once there seemed less than it was before.
Each person made their peace known and from behind, Baradim would whisper a small prayer to the spirits to guide his tongue. When he spoke, his skin seemed to lighten up and his eyes seemed to shine just a bit more than before.
"You know you dislike us Kreed and we dislike you. We're not friends, we're not even business partners, but we are aligned against a common threat. is targeting Falcon's Hollow. Perhaps the witch, perhaps the fey, who knows. What I do know is your jacks aren't going to find them. They don't know the woods like we do. They don't have the talent and skills like we do. They can't do what we can." He would step closer now, Kanga prowling at his heel and growling softly as the guards formed a tighter ring around nearby Kreed. He stopped before it was too much of a threat, looking the man in the eyes.
"You will need our help. We will keep the writ, we will be properly rewarded for saving the town, and you will let the deputies return to their proper work and have your men who are not deputies be allowed to go back to their proper duties. You -owe- us. Wouldn't you rather go forward with us as allies for now rather than as enemies?"
As the group's rebuttals flow like honey from a bee's nest, Goruck focuses on Kreed. What's his angle? It doesn't make much sense for him to cut ties with us while our fame is still fresh in the minds of the people. Surely he can't believe those who trekked through miles of forest and fought off beasts would so easily acquiesce to the slow bend towards the neutrality he offers?
As his fellow half orc walks with confidence of a saint among sinners, Goruck quietly adds a tidbit. "We fought off wolves by the pack and tatzylworms blinded by pride. The most venerable of trees nor the most ferocious of storms could halt us in our approach." Pulling his mask free to stare properly at Kreed alongside Baradim, he continues, "Respect is something that should be give, but often is a fabric that mocks and diminishes the wearer who chastises his fellows with belittlement and ignomy."
Baradim's words, for whatever reason, seem to carry some weight and traction with the Gavel. He paces back and forth looking at his massive map of the Darkmoon wood, scratching the scruff of unshaven stubble on his chin. When he finally looks up, he looks only at Baradim. You are right of course. He says, and the tone in which he says it makes it feel like it pains him to do so. Perhaps all of his bluster and command was only to save face with his underlings? A man of authority must at least continue the guise of being in charge of all things, after all. Fine, keep the writ. Smoke out whomever is behind this and bring me their head. As to Brookman's well, I'll send out a message and see if any of the jacks volunteer. If they do, I'll set them to replacing Deldrin and his men. Thuldrin pauses here, and then looks at Kairon. I'd ask how you know about my search for the book, priest, but I'm certain I'd get only lies or half-truths. Perhaps it hasn't occurred to you, but the fey are the enemies of everything I do here. Brownies, pixies, satyrs, and worse, have been hampering our production since we moved here. An ancient proverb from the East says a man must know his enemy. I'm trying to do just that. If there can be no diplomatic solution with these fey, and believe me, I've tried parlance more than a half dozen times; Syntira's ambassadors are cold and staunch on the best of days. No, diplomacy has failed, therefore I look for every advantage. If these creatures have a weakness, I must find it, and exploit it. He pauses again, looks down at his map, over at Payden, and then back at the group. Is there anything else then? If not, please, by all means, find the hidden menace. Don't be surprised if the road you travel leads to Syntira, the nymph queen of the wood, and to death. She is not a creature to be trifled with, and she would wipe this whole town from the face of Golarion if she but had the power to do so.
Since it seems the only kinda business you're havin' any success with is in makin' insults, Kreed, maybe you oughtta change your line o' work. Woodcuttin' just might not be the thing for you. Seems civil service ain't yer strong suit, either, which brings me t' my second: why did it take so long for anybody to start workin' on fixin' the well? Why's the sheriff 'n' his men doin' the work all on their own, rather'n you pickin' a trained crew t' get it done, "Mayor"? The sarcasm and scorn lacing Kairon's voice as he speaks the honorific are thick enough even Goruck would be challenged to cut through them with his blade. Seems t' me you need to give that job over t' somebody who'll actually do it, "Mayor" -- the job o' leadin' this town. Carin' for it. Protectin' it. The folk here deserve better than you t' do any or all o' that.
So much fer keepin' my cool. But I ain't hit 'im yet -- got t' count fer something.
Kairon listens for Kreed's response about the well, and then breaks back into any ensuing conversation. He steps forward quickly, obviously angry, perhaps even drawing some nervous twitches from Teedum and the guards. He braces Kreed, looking him straight in the eye (or as much as his 5'8" frame allows). Pretty sure I've heard all I need to. Can't imagine why anybody at all'd have somethin' against this town -- no, sir. Unless o' course they knew who was "in charge" 'round here. The priest's voice drops into a lower register, gets quieter: Call me a liar again, Kreed. You do that.
Kairon spins on his heel and storms toward the door, passing the writ to Goruck. Too much manure in the air up here. I'll be at Jakk's.
Kreed laughs, a good, loud, exuberant laugh at Kairon's insult exchange. You don't have a whole lotta sense do you priest? You think I got this job or kept it because I send my jacks to every little errand needs doin', 'specially when a good number were too sick to do anything!? No, I lead here, because I get results, and I make profits, and that's what keeps the whole damn world goin' round s'far as I can tell. You walk through town ever? There's a big fat river runnin' right by it. There's plenty o' fresh water around, people just need to not be too lazy to get it and put it to a boil. He pauses for a second then, as Kairon stares him deep in his azure eyes, not the least bit scared or intimidated, he retorts. Might be the people deserve better. I reckon people everywhere think they deserve better 'n what they got, but right now, here, in this place, I'm what they got, like it or not. I'd be careful about how you spout off at the mouth too, cause a lot o' stuff comin' out o' yer face at the moment sounds an awful lot like sedition. I've locked up men for less, but your hunter friend there is right. I owe you somethin', consider me not lockin' you up your reward. As Kairon turns to leave making his comment about the stench in the air, Kreed looks at Payden and the guards circled around him and mutters, Seems to me things just started smellin' a whole lot better just now. His men all laugh under their breath at the thinly veiled insult.
"You poke insult at those who saved your town, no wonder diplomacy has failed. You know nothing of the woods, you're not even a real Valer." Baradim says plainly then, shaking his head slightly. "Search for your weaknesses, you will only find failure, I am certain. I will endeavor to clean up the mistakes you make."
He would turn now, moving with Kairon. Unless anything else further was said, he would make his way out in the air and take a deep breath. He hated negotiations with scum, it always left a poor taste in his mouth.
Taking the piece of paper from Kairon gingerly, Goruck properly stores the writ in one of the many pouches decorating his chest before replacing his frown with the flat expression of stone. "Profit may turn the world, but it is prinicple that hoists it upon its shoulder."
His piece given life, the swordsman long strides carry him among his friends. Shaking his tattooed head, he says, "I have been privy to more cordial interactions between tribes that enslaved and pillaged another." Running a thumb down his scabbard, Goruck questions, "So how do we proceed?"
Chillel raises her eyebrows in reaction to the escalating insults between the party and Kreed. As the others leave she nods her head to Kreed and his cronies, apparently in politeness, and silently follows.
Once some distance has been gained from the Lumber Consortium's HQ she answers Goruck's question:-
Well, for my part I think we must find out who or what was behind spreading the sickness in Falcon's Hollow before pursuing a conflict with Kreed. I can't stand him either, but if he isn't behind the sickness, we can't both fight him and who or whatever is. I don't think Kreed has the ability to spread the illness and it seems he is cutting his own throat if he was. I think he is just selfish and arrogant.
Syntira, the nymph queen of the wood, came up in our pleasant little chat with Kreed. I think we should seek her out. Some suspect her or her minions of being behind the illness. I think not but it is possible. We should be cautious.
Dolok looks ready to burst in flames or better yet make 'Kreed' burst into flames, especially at some of the more hostile arguments being made. He barely contains himself from trying to burn down Kreed and any who side with him.
When the others turn to walk out, Dolok will hesitantly turn to walk out, but not without first looking to Kreed: "Laurel better be freed or else!" as a ball of fire puffs into existence in each of Dolok's hands and then winks out.
*****************************
Walking out right behind the rest of the group Dolok will breathe a deep sigh. Looking around to the rest of the group, "I think we should go pay a 'visit' to the magistrate next. We need to ensure that Laurel gets released as quickly as possible. I believe we need to look into that before we head back out into the woods again. And while I realize Vade is quite powerful, might it not be a good idea to try to investigate him a little further while we are in town?"
I agree on both points Dolok. Let us head to the magistrate now. Can I urge everyone to calm down and be less abrasive with Magistrate Harg than with Kreed. Much less abrasive, polite even. Please.
"I am with Chillel. Kreed's motives are greedy and self-serving. The Magistrate has been one of the few to stand against the man, I would not wish to have him or his deputies as our foes."
His eyes turned towards Dolok at the end of that, staring at him hard and nodding. "So please...keep your flames in check, friend."
I think we all need to keep our anger in check. Chillel says with a quick smile of appreciation at Baradim for his support. She then looks somewhat pointedly at Kairon as Baradim stares at Dolok.
I didn't punch 'im in 'is smug, stupid face, did I? I'd say I did a right fine job of keeping m' anger "in check". Kairon comes to a complete stop and turns to the others. That said, though -- I'm sure I'm not gonna be much help talkin' with Harg; seems at least two o' the three folks "in charge" in this town need a good beatin'. Maybe a couple of us should see if Vade's willin' t' talk while the others go talk t' the magistrate. Gonna be a lot easier for me to be polite with someone who hasn't yet proven t' be a . . . "such and such" . . . . It's clear there are a great many words he would use to describe Kreed, and Harg, too, but he's also clearly attempting to "practice" keeping that anger in check.
"Yeah, Kairon didn't throw any punches, and you can check", stopping to spit on the ground quite noisily, "Kreeds hall out thoroughly and you will not find so much as a scorch-mark from me! So I'd say we both did a fine job of holding in our ire! I'll not burn Magistrate Harg on the spot either. I'll wait and give him a chance to do that which is right, but then again, I would like to speak to Vade as well. I've always been curious about him and what he does in that tower of his! Kairon? Would you mind if I tag along with you?" He then turns back to the others, "And I'm trusting you all to see to it that Laurel gets released immediately!"
This is your town, Dolok -- yours, Chillel's, and Baradim's. I'm the one "tagging along". Some "high'n'mighties" may have said a bunch o' words and wrote more down, sent me, Goruck, and Scipio up here on a "mission", but I'm just here t' try 'n' help. More'n happy to go with anybody to talk t' the old wizard . . . Well, among present company, o' course.