"You am brave warriors who am doing great good for Sootscales," the chief says in his broken Common as Orin puts down the shaman's body, which Tartuk bravely runs up and kicks for good measure. "You am join us for great big celebration. You am be join Sootscales and be big important part of tribe!"
As he's saying that, Edrukk will take the book: "I'll give it a look overnight, see what I can figure out. Odd that it's in Gnomish."
"Great." Orin laughs "we're honorary kobolds now. Wonderful." he adds sarcastically.
Looking down at the chief Orin turns serious "Listen Chief, we intend to bring justice to the areas around here and as we upheld our end of the bargain we expect you to uphold yours. You be our eyes and ears out here and if you find anything you let us know so we can deal with it. If you break faith with us, well, just remember the mites." he leaves the rest of the threat unspoken.
Treshiell looks at Orin then back on chief Sootscale. "He does not seem to trust you. Does he have a reason not to?", she asks the kobold.
Sometime later Treshiell leaves the festivities to check if Erdrukk has had any success with the translating Tartuk's book. Treshiell and Thaal hoover over each of the dwarf's shoulders. Both witch and viper's eyes gleam in the light of the three orbs that circle around them.
"You am part of Sootscales now," the chief says. "We work together. We tell you about Sootscale problems, you take care of them!"
"Now, come, we eat good together to cement union!"
He leads you into the caves, to the kobolds' communal cavern where a number of the lizard folk -- all black or gray scaled -- gather for apparent festivities. A kobold lass begins ladling out bowls of a greasy stew with chunks of of some sort of meat and presenting them to the five of you. Then, with great ceremony, Mikmek pulls out a slightly moldy, very stale loaf of bread and proceeds to break it on the floor. Other kobolds rush to grab the scattered remains of the batard.
"אנו לשבור לחם כמו גדולים לעשות!"
"We smash bread together like big ones do!"
Later on, Edrukk scratches his head at Treshiell's question. "It's an odd one, lass, that's for sure. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't read it in this book:"
Apparently, Tartuk was actually a gnome. He was killed in a fight against a group of ogres who were tormenting his village, but his "accidentally heroic sacrifice" -- he writes he had actually been trying to surrender to the ogres and offer to help them destroy the village in return for sparing his life, but the ogres crushed him
before he got his offer out -- was enough to give his village a chance to defeat the ogres. The village unanimously voted to restore him to life, so they decided to use a scroll of reincarnate that had sat in the village treasury for years. In an ironic twist of fate, poor Tartuk came back as a kobold.
The fact that his new scales were the same deep purple as his hair in his previous life served only to ensure Tartuk’s shame. Enraged, he fled into the woods, where he nursed a deep grudge. He found a tribe of kobolds, joined them, used his magic and manipulative lies to rally them, and led his new army in an attack against his old village. The
resulting battle was furious, and only Tartuk survived. That was fine with him.
Since then, he's drifted through several River Kingdoms, periodically haunting towns and murdering gnomes he finds and at others insinuating himself into kobold tribes, taking them over from within, and then driving them to extinction by forcing them into wars they can’t possibly win.
The Sootscales were Tartuk’s latest project. He used a combination of lies, magic and his favorite tool -- a non-magical statue of a devil -- to seize control of a tribe.
Agnar accepts a bowl of the stew with a forced smile. After a few tenative bites, he gets the idea to pull out some of his rations to offer to nearby kobolds, taking big bites with a grin before sharing.
After hearing Tartuk's story:
"Sounds like fate gave him a deserving end. I can't think of a more fitting punishment for betraying one's people than the one bestowed upon him, however mistakenly it was done. There's divine providence in there somewhere...with a wicked sense of humor."
Rupert looks painfully at the greasy stew and wonders aloud, "I wonder what Taerine is fixin' for supper at the fort tonight. Ah' hope tomorrow night it's even better," he says, settling back and shoveling the stew into his mouth.
@Tartuk's Story
"Sure is strange," Rupert says, dumbfounded. "If I die, try not to bring me back as a Kobold, please." He immediately looks around to see if any of their new scaly friends heard him, or even understood him.
Morning breaks with only a little queasiness from whatever was in the stew. As you prepare to leave, Edrukk says he will continue to stay with the kobolds, to keep an eye on them and perhaps explore if there's any more silver to be found in the old mine.
Treshiell fixes her eyes on the chieftain. "Now that your problems are our problems, does that make our problems yours? Tell me, what do you intend to do for us?", she says as she breaks abit of modly bread and starts to gather the crumbs into a circle.
"You need not worry, Rupert. We have no plans to kill you", Treshiell assures Rupert casually before returning to her thoughts. "So color transcends death. We wonder what was new and what was old."
"What do you know of gnomes?", she asks Erdrukk.
"We make great feasts for you," the chief responds excitedly. "If lucky, maybe sacrifice you for bring great luck to tribe!"
Edrukk gives you one of his patented odd looks, Treshiell. "Well, I suppose I know a bit," he says. "What do you want to know?"
Agnar raises an eyebrow.
"Well, Treshiell, how's that for respect? Sacrifice you to bring luck to the tribe... Perhaps I should show them a better way? It would be a shame for Thaal to lose the pleasure of your company."
"We will cross that bridge when we get there", Treshiell tells Agnar and abandon's her small circle of bread crumbs to look about the dungeons. "Perhaps this cave would look better without kobolds", she ponders. Reaching a decision she turns back to chief Soothscale. "The feasts we can accept, but the sacrifices we can not. We need eyes, not knives."
Treshiell fills the good part of an half hour with questions about gnomes. Some mundane but most nonsensical like if purple gnomes are more malevolent than others, if gnomes would consider eating an ogre (and how many it would take) and why gnomes are shorter than dwarves.
"But blind kobolds am very bad for tribe," the chief protests! "Am no able to hunt good, but still eat much. Am much better to not take eyes, am learned from personable experience!!!"
Bracers of armor +1
"What Treshiell means is we'd like your tribe to use your eyes for us. We are here to explore these lands. When we meet with you in the future, we would like to hear if you have seen anything interesting. If a new creature enters your tribe's lands, or other travelers come through, we would like to know. She doesn't want you to give us your eyes any more than we would like to give her to you for a sacrifice."
"You bigs am very strange," the chief says slowly, "but we tell you if we see anything. And if more icky mites am coming. They am very evil."
"Yes, they are", Treshiell says in agreement with chieftain Sootscale. "How many blind kobolds do you have?"
"Alright then, sounds like our job here is finished!" Rupert looks anxious to get back on the road. "Thanks for the good times and..." he pauses, thinking and choosing his next words carefully, "...interesting company, our new Kobold friends. Behave yourselves and all that!"
Treshiell rises the next morning a tangle of hair, dirt and clothing. She looks around the dungeon wonder in her eyes, like this was not where she went to sleep. Three orbs of light appear out of the shadows and begins a slow orbit around the witch sending her shadow dancing across the walls. Treshiell reaches for a clay dinner plate from the night before and beats it to the ground to the beat of a lamentful melody. The song turns more joyous and she collects the shattered pieces in a pile before her. The center piece starts to glow and tremble as she moves her hands over the ruined plate, light spreading to the other pieces as they merge once more into its unbroken state.
"Where are we going?" she asks.
While Treshiell is making her strange music with the plate, Agnar makes mention to Orin and Rupert in passing:
"We should ford a river or two on the way back. That way she'll get some of the dirt washed off of her. If we bring Treshiell back to Taerine looking like that, she'll likely feed us nothing but raw turnips and water from the horse trough."
While Treshiell is making her strange music with the plate, Agnar makes mention to Orin and Rupert in passing:
"We should ford a river or two on the way back. That way she'll get some of the dirt washed off of her. If we bring Treshiell back to Taerine looking like that, she'll likely feed us nothing but raw turnips and water from the horse trough."
It takes about 11 hours of hard riding to get back to the fort, but you arrive shortly after dark, a few lights twinkling from the top of the palisade as you arrive.
Dhavika welcomes you in, with a smile as Stevic, Taerine, Kesten and the rest of the Sirens come to meet you. As Taerine heads to find you some dinner, Stevic looks around. "You seem to have bloody lost the frakking dwarf. I hope nothing happened to him..."
"Edrukk's taken up with the native Kobold tribe," Rupert says, "He's goin' to be keepin' an eye on them for us in case things get out of hand, but if'n all goes well they shouldn't be a problem for us ever again. They might even be of some use in the future."
Rupert takes Lando to the stables, then returns to the group. "Anythin' exciting happen while we were out?" he inquires, and then prepares himself for dinner.
Treshiell surprises those who are expecting her usual behavior as she rides all the way to the stable, dismounts and leads her horse inside. Some straw has caught in her hair as she emerges and gazes over the crowd, looking like she's trying to remember where she's seen them before. "We think Erdrukk will like it there. Dwarves dwell underground. Perhaps he will come back as a kobold if they sacrifice him. What color would you think he'd take?"
Kesten shakes his head at Rupert's question. "Of course not, Randall! What could possibly happen while I and my lovely Sirens are here to keep an eye on things?"
"Hopefully there's no more major trouble from those mites. I'd prefer it if our future explorations don't have us squeezing down tight tunnels. I'm sure Edrukk will be fine. Those kobolds took quite a shine to Treshiell. They won't be doing harm to any of her friends."
"I've never doubted yeh, Kirsten," Rupert retorts, emphasizing the wrong name on purpose.
Treshiell's eyes between Rupert and Kersten as she follows the conversation. A orb of light materializes and hoovers above the head of the person that's holding her attention for the moment, and switches target as witch does. Thaal's eyes follows the conversation in a similar manner but the viper follows the person Treshiell doesn't.
"It's Keeees-teeeen, Ronald," the captain replies, stretching his name out as if speaking to a slow-witted child. He bats at the lights, but gives a broad smile and wink to Treshiell as he realizes she's the source of them.
That brings a glare from Taerine, who comes and grabs the witch's arm. "Come along, dear, you've gotten filthy again. Stevic, be a dear and get a bath going."
The remaining Sirens keep an eye on the rest of you, though Hari comes over to silently take a look at the loot you've acquired as Orin begins sorting through it.
Treshiell let Taerine lead her away. Before she disappears inside the house you can see the witch tilting her head towards Thaal and say "Water. We're in civilization now."
Treshiell climbs down into the bathtub without obstructing. As Taerine comes back she finds the young girl with dead fish floating in the tub, pushing it from one hand to the other. Her viper lies resting entwined in her hair, his tail swinging back and forth like a living pony tail. A score of spiders emerge from under the vat and scatter into the shadows as Taerine approaches.
Later that evening Treshiell enters the common room cleaned up except for the dirt she has managed to accumulate between the bath and the common room. Her bare feet might not even have bathed at all and there is some smudges on her face. She sits down next to the fire, gaze focused somewhere deep in the flames.
Taerine shudders a little at the spider, then sputters at the sight of the dead fish. "This is a bath, Treshiell, not soup," she says, in an even tone. "Having a dead fish in there with you will not get you clean!"
"Forgive my ignorance, Kesten, but I'm a foundling and new to the group. Are you and your soldiers a permanent addition to the trading post? I know Rupert and the others cleared up some bandit trouble here early on in their explorations. Are you staying on to fend off any new attacks?"
"See anything you like?" Orin asks Hari as she takes an interest in the items they've found "Want to make an offer on any of it?"
As Kesten begins to reprimand Rupert Orin walks up behind the Rogue and offers his support "Listen, Crispin. If you can't be bothered to learn our names, except for the ladies, how can we be expected to remember your name. Things are changing out here and you could be a part of that change, if you start taking it seriously. Otherwise that change can leave you behind and you'll remain little more than a guard at some outpost in the back of beyond." He looks over at Stevic "No, offense." He then turns and regards Kesten with a long hard stare "So what say you? Do you want to help us mold the future of this wilderness or are you content to remain a wetnurse for every trapper or merchant that passes through?"
Diplomacy:
Rupert grins at Orin, thankful he broached such an awkward but necessary subject. "Yeah, buddy. I know you're name's Kesten, but yeh can't seem t'remember any of our names: Rupert, Orin, Agnar," he says, pointing at each of his companions while he does it.
"Nobody's doubting your abilities, yeh' wouldn't have made it here if you weren't competent. But, yeh' also won't make it much further if you can't even be trusted to hold a couple o'simple names to memory! Things might get pretty big out here, and we gotta be prepared for whatever the future holds for us."
Diplomacy aid another
Taerine shudders a little at the spider, then sputters at the sight of the dead fish. "This is a bath, Treshiell, not soup," she says, in an even tone. "Having a dead fish in there with you will not get you clean!"
"It is dead", Treshiell says and hands Taerine the fish. "It was dead when i found it." Then she gazes deep into the hostess eyes. "Don't you care for spiders? I found them to."
"Of course it's dead. Why wouldn't it be?" Taerine asks in bemusement. "I don't mind spiders. They have their place, but I would prefer that place be outside. Maybe you should leave everything you find outside, dear, hmmm?"
"Perhaps. How much are you looking for the spear, chain shirt or buckler?"
"My, you're a touchy lot, aren't you. In Brevoy, your name gets remembered when you've made something of it. Make your mark on the world, lads, and no one will ever accidentally call you the wrong thing! Get a bard to sing songs and tell tales about you, lads, that's my advice."
"To answer your question, good cleric, we shall be staying out here and providing protection to this trading post for as long as we are needed. I'm sure in time we shall be recalled to Brevoy to deal with other problems that arise in the homeland."
Stevic grunts at Orin's speech. "Why in the name of all the flaming demons and devils in all the flaming hells would I take offense. I was trying to find some quiet in the back of beyond. Then all you lot showed up one day. My luck, a whole rat-spawned city'll bloody grow up around my ears next."
Orin looks at Stevic "I can agree with you on that, Stevic. But just imagine the opportunities that would present. Instead of catering to the few trappers and merchants who travel through here you instead you would have a ready made base of customers to whom to sell your wares. Rather than just eking by you could turn a handsome profit."
"Yes, Christian. I suppose you are correct. I mean other than ending a war between a tribe of kobolds and mites that was disrupting trade along the Rostland road, what else have we done out here? Oh yeah, there was that incident with the bandits. There was about what, a dozen or so, that we managed to kill or drive off. Thereby saving Master Stevic and Mistress Taerine from death or worse. But you're only as good as the last thing you've done. Oh, by the way what was the last thing you have done?"
Orin crosses his arms across his chest, just daring Kesten to correct his misnomer.
Intimidation check:
Agnar leans back in his chair and nurses his ale, a slight smile on his lips as he listens to the verbal fencing going on.
"Yeah, but I'd still have to deal with the flaming people," Stevic comments. "I've got a whole rotting fort here, so don't think I'm bloody just 'eking by.' "
Stevic responds. "Though I suppose I could get Taerine a new ring, since you lot don't seem to have found hers," he says quietly after a moment.
Kesten rolls his eyes at your comment, Orin. "Who was there to witness those deeds. Clear the whole area of bandits, and people might start to know your name. Take my word, if you want people to remember your name, you have to make them remember your name. And there are plenty of people in Brevoy who know the name of Kesten Garess! ... But if you're so touchy, I'll try to make more of an effort to remember. Who knows what the future will bring, after all."
Agnar's face darkens as he hears Stevic mention the ring. "Someone took your wife's ring?"
After silently communing with the flames for sevral minutes Treshiell catches on to the strained atmosphere around the fire. She looks up and let's her gaze shift from one to the other around the fireplace. "Have we made enemies?"
Morning finds Treshiell dancing in the middle of the courtyard, inside a homemade stage framed by six orange leaves laid out in a circle, all held in place with a nail. Three orbs of light accompany the young witch flying through the air at an impressive speed. Dirt does once again give the girl an earthly tone, mostly around her hands and feet, and her hair is adorned with twigs, weeds and leaves. Thaal lies nearby basking in the sun, appearently uninterested.
Treshiell dance slows down once anyone approaches and eventually comes to a complete stop. She has painted intricate patterns across her forehead, nose and cheeks using mud. The patterns extend past her neck and down her arms. "Where are we going today?"
Orin scratches behind his ear "About the ring, Stevic. I'm pretty sure I know where it is. When next we venture out I will make sure we get it and bring it back."
"Have we made enemies?"
"Nah, lass, it's just a discussion," Rupert says. He grins awkwardly, trying to soothe over any unpleasantness of the conversation. He spends an hour or so pacing the grounds of the fort in thought, then goes to bed early, happy to have a set of walls around him.
Orin scratches behind his ear "About the ring, Stevic. I'm pretty sure I know where it is. When next we venture out I will make sure we get it and bring it back."
"You're flaming right we're going to get that ring back. It's a symbol of commitment between two people and that's not something a rotting bandit can just walk off with without some flaming retribution getting shoved straight up his buttocks! By Erastil's horns, Stevic, you'll get that ring back, with the flaming bandit's head as a pillow for it to rest on until you put it back on Taerine's finger yourself."
Agnar stands there a moment, eyes blazing, before he seems to come back to his senses. Embarassed, he mumbles something about his horse needing a brushing, and excuses himself.
"Relax, my friend. That particular bandit has been put paid to and she danced a nice little jig on the end of a rope to boot. No the ring was stolen from the thieves by the mites, which was in turn taken from them by the Sootscales during one of their raids. When next we leave we will swing by their caverns and request that it be returned.