Phaistea listens wide-eyed to Arryn, before she starts blinking at tears fill her eyes at his words.
"I didn't know," she whispers. "You always seemed sort of happy, and willing to talk to me, and ... I didn't realize. You're so brave, though, how you helped all of us escape?"
She looks into his eyes, holding contact as she talks. "We'd all be dead -- or probably worse -- if it wasn't for you and the others, and I'd be stupid not to be impressed," she says with a self-depracating smile. "I don't know if I feel the same thing as you do, or even think I'm worth you thinking that, but you're sweet, and handsome, and smart, and brave, and I think ... maybe? I'm not ready to say we should get married now, and I don't want to rush, but ... I want to see where things go."
She darts forward and gives him a quick peck on the lips, cheeks turning crimson, as she waits for his response.
--
Symond scowls as Dregg corrects him.
"It's not funny!" he says. "I need to be ready to protect everyone!"
He violently stabs the stick into the dirt. "If the hobs come back, they're dead, right? Or we are? I'm not letting anyone else get hurt!"
Dregg’s face turns grim and he nods. ”That sums it up, yeah. It’s the same out in the forest; most times it’s kill or be killed. The worst thing you can do if hobgoblins or stinkfaces or anything else finds you is to get caught. Best thing? Get away. Get help. You and me, we’re part of a pack now, Pup. And that’s what makes us strong.”
Dregg kneels down then and plucks the stick up out of the dirt, then gestures toward Garrivek and Aramis.
”See those two? Found the dwarf trussed up like a pig when we were fighting a bugbear. On his own, Beltbuckle over there didn’t have a chance because he’d got caught. And Red? She saved my life, twice, when I was fighting that bugbear. That guy was a lot stronger than me.”
He huffs, rubbing at one of his more recent scars. The half orc then flips the stick over in his hand, extending the handle to Symond. ”Point is, none of us alone can kill ‘em all, pup. Not you, not me. And we can’t do anything if we’re caught. So, first job: don’t get caught. Second job: get help. That’s when we’re strongest. Make sense?”
"Other lesson worth learning," Isabella speaks up from behind Symond, "dead is dead. Don't matter whether ya stab someone up front or sneak 'round an' shoot 'em in the back. Yer man's dead as mutton either way an' ya got more room ta run an' do it all over again if ya snipe 'im quiet-like. Good plan till ya grow yer muscle ta kill from a distance. So. Can ya draw an' string a bow yet?"
Arryn smiles back, but looks a bit pained. ”I’d like that, too,” he replies, giving her a cheek peck in return.
Back at the fire that night with the party (and no Phaistea) he turns to Aramis and whispers, ”I need your help. I know you don’t like me very much and don’t think I’m worthy of Phaistea, which is very true, but I need you to find out something for me. I asked her to be my girl and she seemed willing but said a bunch of stuff about how brave I am and how grateful she is that I helped get everybody out of town. I need to know that she’s being with me because she likes me, and not out of some kind of obligation or because she thinks it would be wrong to turn me down. She deserves better than that.”
"Strange," Garrivek replies to Dregg. "I figured the giant would beat us here, being a forester and all..." He drums his fingers on his armour and scans the treeline.
Seeing Aramis linger for a bit, looking worried about something and lost in thought, he nods at her. "Something's on your mind and it doesn't look good. What's bothering you?"
After speaking with Aramis he heads inside the caves and seeks out Drugan. "How was your watch, friend? Did you see anything suspicious? I'm expecting a wood giant to arrive soon, but he doesn't seem to be here yet. Strange." He listens to the dwarf guard's news solemnly, then nods. "You're a mentor to the others around here, right? To the other lookouts and guards? How are they doing? Need a hand? I've got some time to offer guidance and advice to any who might need it."
That afternoon Garrivek notices a few women tending poorly to some sheep. He wanders over with a grin. "Hey there. I'm Garrivek. Garrivek Runebuckle! You ladies need a hand? I can help." Garrivek attempts to help round up the sheep and tend to them, offering Yasha, Mithrielye, and Skeldra advice as he does.
Later, around the fire, Garrivek accepts his dinner from Aramis with a smile. "Thanks, I'm famished." When Aramis eventually sits down empty-handed, Garrivek eyes her with interest. He changes seats to go sit near her, bringing his smell with him.
"Hey, are you alright? I noticed you're not eating. Again. Don't think I've seen you eat a thing since I met you and it's been days."
Later, as Dregg, Isabella, and Aramis are chatting around the fire about Arryn's lack of a love life and the rangers, Garrivek nods. "Oh, aye. I've been everywhere. But, I've never been to a ranger hide-out or fortress. Not a clue where one might be, either. North, of course." He nods at Isabella, "And near water. That makes sense. Hmmm...."
Garrivek tries to think of areas in the north that are sheltered, have access to fresh water, and could conceivably be used by the rangers as a hide-out.
Garrivek also thinks back on all the history, lore, and secrets he's overheard of the rangers, hopeful that some of the tales might suggest a region they frequented in the past that would be a promising place to begin their search.
Symond shakes his head as Isabella asks about stringing a bow, though he admits to using his sling a bit, even if he's not a very good shot. He's gotten a couple squirrels, but usually misses, he admits.
--
Drugan doesn't have much to add. It's been mercifully quiet in the caves, and they've even managed to get a couple sheep to help supplement their food, though the women appear to be horrible shepherd -- so bad that Garrivek's advice doesn't seem to even begin to help.
Later, as he tries to think of where they could find the rangers, Garrivek is pretty sure there are some smaller rivers to the north. Absent any other clues, that might be where you could start.
"Right. I'm borrowing him for a bit," Isabella announces to Dregg. "Your way is good, but needs him to bulk up, yet. My way can help him, too, and maybe keep him alive a bit longer."
Unless Symond or Dregg disagrees, Isabella unstrings her composite longbow and starts giving Symond the first lessons in ranged weapon maintenance.
Symond can't even come close to stringing the bow...
Seeing Aramis linger for a bit, looking worried about something and lost in thought, he nods at her. "Something's on your mind and it doesn't look good. What's bothering you?"
Aramis hesitates a moment the speaks quietly to Garrivek. "Same thing as you, I imagine. Herge should have beaten us here. He didn't. Why?" She pauses a moment, looks around to make sure no ones watching, then leans closer, wrinkles her nose at the smell, and whispers, "We've had bad luck with bringing new folks into our group. Enemies posing as friends led to the deaths of some of our own. I just... I worry every time we bring someone new in."
Aramis quickly steps back and straightens herself. "Be wary, alright?"
Later, around the fire, Garrivek accepts his dinner from Aramis with a smile. "Thanks, I'm famished." When Aramis eventually sits down empty-handed, Garrivek eyes her with interest. He changes seats to go sit near her, bringing his smell with him.
"Hey, are you alright? I noticed you're not eating. Again. Don't think I've seen you eat a thing since I met you and it's been days."
Aramis smiles. "Oh, don't worry yourself. I'm not hungry."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Back at the fire that night with the party (and no Phaistea) he turns to Aramis and whispers, ”I need your help. I know you don’t like me very much and don’t think I’m worthy of Phaistea, which is very true, but I need you to find out something for me. I asked her to be my girl and she seemed willing but said a bunch of stuff about how brave I am and how grateful she is that I helped get everybody out of town. I need to know that she’s being with me because she likes me, and not out of some kind of obligation or because she thinks it would be wrong to turn me down. She deserves better than that.”
Aramis cocks her head at Arryn, looking a little confused. "She told me she liked you ages ago. Well, not ages. But, it feels like ages. Why? Did you mess it up?"
Aramis pauses with a smirk, giving him time to respond, then smiles at Arryn, not wanting him to stew in uncertainty any longer than necessary. "I'll ask her tomorrow. Maybe the day after. If I ask her now she'll know I'm asking for you. For now, just be with her." She shrugs. "Win her over with that charm you think you've got. And... don't worry. Yeah? Folks around here have enough to worry about. She could do with some joy in her life."
In the morning, you being making your way back north, in search of the giant, who Isabella's able to find after most of the day's worth of travel.
He's sitting on a fallen tree, about 200 feet away from a pair of apparently sleeping owlbears, which have clearly been peppered with several of the giant's sleep arrows.
"AH, YOU FOUND ME!" he booms in jovial greeting. "I FOUND THESE TWO FELLOWS ON MY WAY HERE, GOING IN THE SAME DIRECTION, AND THOUGHT I SHOULD KEEP THEM FROM YOUR CAMP."
”We definitely appreciate it. More owlbears? Are these things really so common, or is there something out there driving them towards us?”
"Or are the wretched meat-eaters going through a baby boom?"
Herge scratches his head, not quite sure what you're talking about.
Once you explain, he does look a bit perplexed.
"THAT DOES SEEM ODD," he says. "THEY ARE NATIVE TO THIS AREA, OF COURSE, BUT THEY'RE NOT MIGRATORY -- OR COMMUNAL. IT'S ODD THAT THEY WOULD BE GOING THE SAME DIRECTION."
"Unless something's running them off ... or their food's run out."
”I see four possibilities. One: this is a natural migration brought in by lack of food, as Isabella says. Two: some random big baddie, like a dragon, has made an appearance in their natural territory forcing them out. Three: hobgoblin activity in their natural territory has forced them to us. Four: Rangers gathering in their territory have forced them out. The first two options don’t help us at all, and the third may bear checking out, while the fourth definitely helps us. I see a 50% chance that heading north and following their trail back to their territory would not be a waste of our time.”
Looking around, Isabella's able to find what looks like the owlbear tracks heading back north. Following them, you soon see another strange indentation in the ground, almost as if something were dragging a tree, that matches the path of the owlbears.
You think it's actually treant tracks, which seem to go toward the camp before reversing direction and returning toward the north.
"Need some help with this," Isabella muses. "Almost think I got it..."
"Yeah. Treant," Isabella says. "Thanks for the assist."
Dregg grunts in acknowledgement, ”Mmm. So, what do we do about these treants? Follow after ‘em?”
”Could treats be sending the owlbears here?”
"They could be running 'em off. 'Specially if they're working with the Rangers and want ta make trouble for the Hobs."
Dregg frowns in thought, sawing his jaw back and forth slowly as he considers things. After a time, he huffs, ”Well, we should go after ‘em then. Either they’re causing what will turn into trouble for us, or we can maybe convince them to help us do the same to the Legion.”
Aramis nods in agreement. "Yes, we should visit the treants. Will you come with us Herge? I'm sure your presence would be a boon for us, in speaking with the trees."
Garrivek drums his fingers on his armour rhythmically as the others offer their opinions. "Treants hey..." Garrivek mutters, thinking on it for a moment.
"DO YOU NOT WANT ME TO STAY AND WATCH THESE OWLBEARS?" Herge asks. "I WILL GO WITH YOU, I SUPPOSE, IF THAT'S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT, AND IT'S TO HELP THE TREES."
Garrivek knows the basics about treants, that they are solitary creatures responsible for guarding a forest. They tend to take an especially long view of affairs and never act brashly or without much deliberation. He's also heard that some prefer to be called arboreal regents these days. He's not completely sure if that's new or just something the plant creatures finally decided to tell the various humanoid races in the last year or so.
Aramis considers the owlbears again.... "No... You're right. The owlbears can't reach our camp. Thank you Herge. You should keep watch over them."
Garrivek nods. "Good work with those owlbears, Herge. Keep it up."
Garrivek shares what he knows about treants with the others.
Herge agrees to stay and make sure the owlbears don't get closer to the caves, while you follow the tracks. It takes another day but you eventually arrive at a wide glade with a clear, rocky pond approximately 20 feet in diameter in the center. Seven blossoming cherry trees lean inward from the edge of the pond like conspirators. Hundreds of small, sharp knots of wood cover the ground around the pond and the trees.
"Yeah, this has 'trap' written all over it," Isabella says in a conversational tone of voice as she loads and winds her crossbow. "Lookit: caltrops, treant-style. Any bets those cherry trees are them?"
Arryn takes only a step forwards holding his hands out in front of him, clearly empty.
”We come in peace, to meet with the Regents of the Fangwood. We mean no harm to you or the forest.”
"The forest is in need of your aid. Hobgoblins have been burning trees. May we speak with you?"
He eyes the trees, curious if they truly are the treants or not...
Dregg works his jaw back and forth as he watches Arryn and Garrivek make their entreaties. ”Heh. You two are gonna look like idiots if those are just plain trees. Heh heh.”
Aramis smirks, but doesn't add anything to the conversation, instead, waiting nervously to see if the trees are alive, and if Isabella finds any traps.
Two of the larger trees suddenly animate, raising their branches and waving them around in what seems like a vaguely menacing fashion.
Dregg leans over and asks Garrivek, ”Is that arboreal regent for ‘go away!’ or ‘help, I can’t talk’?”
Isabella clears her throat and starts to speak in the tongue of the wild:
Aramis nods.
To Dregg, Garrivek says quietly, "No, they can speak just fine. Maybe they just don't want to talk with us."
He drums his fingers on his armour while Aramis and Isabella speak.
Finally, he steps forward a pace and bows deeply. "Our enemies bring destruction to these woods. Perhaps we can help each other?"
"We have come here at the suggestion of Herge the Wood Giant, who is also our ally and friend. At this very moment, he protects our refugees from prowling owlbears."
The tree creatures give no indication that they're understanding or accepting your words, though it's hard to tell which. As Garrivek steps forward, they raise their branches menacingly.
Garrivek however notices a third of the cherry trees, the smallest of them (though still a good-sized tree), move a little, and suspects that their may be another treant in the glade.
Arryn takes a step back, trying to remain non-threatening.
”Perhaps we should continue on in our search for the Rangers, and try again here on our way back through?”
Dregg shrugs, ”Should’ve brought Herge along.”
Aramis sighs. "Guess so..." Then she nods at Arryn. "Yeah, let's give it a shot."
"Yeah, I suspect if we continue trying to be friendly here they may become hostile. We can return later."
It takes you 10 days of searching, but you eventually find what you suspect is one of the rangers' hideouts: a massive fort constructed from weathered blocks of smooth, gray stone.
Two massive towers on the western side of the fort are connected by a high wall with a gatehouse festooned in ivy. Mushrooms blossom amid ferns along the ground. The wooden double door of the gatehouse is banded with iron, but one door stands slightly ajar.