"Ah. Right. Er... How's this hand?" Everard asks.
Henry chuckles. ”Four points, me friend. No worries. If we skunk ya, you can shower off in the Flying Falls. Chilly, but it’ll get ya clean!”
Henry laughs.
”Them falls makes me front porch mighty slippery. Me done some flyin’ falls of me own, if ya gets me meaning!”
He doesn't have a story about what happened to the valley?
"Now, I know this might be a bit of a longshot," Everard says, "what with you being a hermit an' all… But did you ever hear of the prophecy?"
Just to be sure, Everard recites what Zara told the team.
"Any insight into it, there, Henry?"
”Anyways, me family don’t live in this valley. We is ‘ermits...we don’t live close by each other, on accounts as we is ‘ermits. This valley ‘as always been a bit down since me’s come ‘ere, though it got worse when the baronet disappeared. Still, me keeps to me cave, me don’ts go out at night. Goblins too stupid to find me ladder, same with trolls, and brigands knows me got no money, so me is pretty safe ‘ere. If you’se ever in the area ‘round nightfall and needs a place to stay, you’se are always welcome to stay...fer a few games o’ cribbage and some food.”
”As fer your prophecy, me knows nothin’ about that stuff, but you should ask Erasmus. ‘e knows all about them magical stuff. ‘is ‘ouse is ‘igh up on a mountain in the northeast corner o’ the valley. Me ‘ears it’s quite a sight to see, too!”
Zayla takes the scroll, glances at it, and stuffs it in her pack. She remains otherwise quiet throughout the conversation.
Unless you have any other questions, we can assume you finish the cribbage game (Henry beats you soundly) and you bid him a good day. Making your way back into the stone porch, you see that Henry was right about the water from the falls making the rocks slippery. It takes a great deal of care to get yourselves onto the ladder (at least this time there’s no illusion covering it up) and down to the bottom.
Next?
You’ll have to head back soon if you want to sleep in the Inn.
"I suppose we should go seek out this Erasmus person eventually," Zayla says once they're back at the bottom of the ladder. "We should probably head back in for the night now, though."
Thank you for your hospitality, Henry. For a hermit, you are a great host.
"We'll have to do this again sometime, Henry," Everard says as he shakes the Hermit's hand. "Be seeing you!"
Once the group is on level ground again, the Fighter nods towards town. "Let's be going, friends. We have a big trip ahead of us; don't want to be late, don't want to be slow."
You head back to town, arriving just after supper time, as the sun touches the western mountains. The shifty-looking man you noticed by the well the first day leans nonchalantly against the wall just beside the town gates, casually tossing a dagger into the air and catching it.
”You folks just made it back. Forest isn’t a nice place after dark. Certainly not as pleasant as an evening stroll on the lamppost streets of town.”
"Yeah, we'd noticed," Everard replies in an offhand manner. "Thanks for caring, though."
"I don't know," Zayla says. "I've found the nights we've spent in the forest to be reasonably pleasant. Well, except for the things that want to kill us, I suppose."
”Yes, those things can ruin the experience. If you like, I would be willing to help you out with some information about the forest, for a small fee, of course. For 30 gold coins, I could tell you where to find a large tribe of goblins, ready for a treasure plunder. For 50 gold coins, I can give you a map to a magical meadow with enchanted flowers. For 100 gold coins, I can tell you the password to Baba Yaga’s magic hut.”
Zayla pauses and looks back at the man. "You just happen to know the password to Baba Yaga's hut? How did you come across all this wonderful information you so conveniently possess, and why should we believe it?"
”Ehen I was younger, I used to romp through the forests as well, looking for adventure. I don’t remember exactly where I was, northwest, I think, but I was camped in some bushes and I heard an old woman’s voice call out. Peeking through the bushes, I saw that I had camped next to a clearing. The ground looked sick, and there was a long high wooden fence with skulls perched along the top—their eyes flowed—, and within the fence, a stooped woman in a cloak. Her hut was on chicken legs, and when she spoke the words, it sat.”
"We'll have to give it some thought. That's a lot of gold," Everard says, diplomatically. "Don't suppose you'd give us a … discount?" Halfway through his schpiel, Everard's eyebrows draw down as he looks at the scruffy man. "What's your name again, mister?"
”Bruno, and no, no discounts. There’s not much work to find in Spielburg, so I can’t give my services away.”
"Bruno," Everard repeats, unsmiling. "Sure. I'll remember that. C'mon, gang; let's get some chow. Heck, I might splurge on a hot bath."
Felix gives a nod to Bruno as they go.
You are awoken very early the next morning with a gentle shake and Shema's warm smile. "A most excellent breakfast and hot coffee await you downstairs when you are ready. The morning is a cold one indeed."
Cold is an understatement, as all the warmth of the last few days has vanished, replaced with a thin layer of snow that still slowly falls from the swollen clouds above, though you don't think significant snowfall is likely to be a worry. Shema's breakfast keeps you warm as you race the rising sun on your way to the Pfeferdern farm. The light is barely a half hour old when you arrive at the centaur's farm, finding the imposing man-horse ready and waiting at the end of his lane. Heinrich wears an old, well-oiled suit of studded leather armour that protects his chest and flanks. He holds a large spear in one hand, with two more stuck beneath a leather bandoleer. A large heavy wooden shield completes his equipment. The chips in the shield testify to its once extensive use. Miracle of miracles, Heinrich nods approvingly as you arrive.
"You made excellent time. Are you ready to proceed?"
Stealth
Perception
"Absolutely." Felix is ready to be on the way.
Everard draws his sword and rests it against his shoulder for the day's march.
"As I can be, sir. Let's be off, gang; people are counting on us to save them. Let's be heroes!"
”Shut up and just listen. For a moment there, I was afraid you were too dense to understand what I was saying, but here you are, so you can’t be a complete idiot. I don’t like new people, and I don’t like amateurs, which you are, whatever you may think. However, you are a card-carrying member of the guild, and however pathetic our current chief may be, he’s ruled that none of us can take you and your friends out. Something about being heroes, which definitely puts you back into the complete idiot column. But he thinks heroes is what we need to solve the little problems of our valley and bring back the traders and tourists, which is good for business for everybody. In the meantime, I hear your heading out to the forest again tomorrow. I don’t know if you plan on exploring any caves, but if you do, stay on the lookout for yellow spotted corts. Do you know what they are? No of course you don’t. They’re a purple mushroom with yellow spots. They grow in caves. Certain nasty creatures enjoy eating them, but I wouldn’t recommend it unless you want a severe case of being dead. I use them to create this.” He pulls a dagger from his belt and holds it up near Felix’s neck. In the lamplight, he can see a grainy purple substance lining one side of the blade. ”If you’re lucky and strong, that poison will just freeze your limbs. If you aren’t, it freezes your heart, and you don’t come back from that. My supply of the mushroom has run out, and I can’t make more poison without them. Bring me back half a dozen if you find them, and I’ll give you a fair trade.” He holds up an extra-fine rapier of masterwork quality (with no poison) and lets you hold it. The curves of the handle are slightly feminine, but it’s balance is top notch and it’s steel is fine. Felix has never seen its like before. Bruno snatches it back. ”Do we have a deal?”
Stealth
"First we need to get our giant friend, then he'll lead us to where we need to go."
How about. "So we start off to the north and go from there?"
"Didn't you say you know where the Meadow is, Mr. Pfefedern?" Everard asks, respectfully. "I'd say lead on, but... please don't take this the wrong way, but you are the key player of this mission. All those lives depend on your skills. I'd like to offer to shield you during this trip. Any harm that comes, should have to get through me to get to you."
”I know generally where it is, though we will likely have to search a bit. If we are pure in heart and motive, it will not hide itself from us.”
Heinrich ignores the part about shielding him and takes off at a slow trot, a pace he holds for an hour or so before relenting to slow down to your snail’s pace. Snowflakes continue to drift lazily from the sky above, forming a thin white blanket on the trees and ground (where it can get through). You make it to hex C6 by lunchtime and stop for a bite to eat. The snow begins to fall more thickly as you set out again and your earlier belief that the snow will not hinder you gives way to concern about the thickness of accumulation.
With only a couple hours of daylight left (and that fading fast as the clouds thicken even more), you reach the valley edge and begin the process of searching the northern cliffs and hills for the meadow. Heinrich has purposely brought you to a part he is certain us east of the Peace, so you can confidently search in a westerly direction.
Half an hour into your search, there is still no sign of the Peace, and the snow is falling quite heavily, obstructing all sight beyond a hundred feet or so. Everard spots some tracks in the snow, like those of a very large and heavy feline.
Two sets.
And fresh.
"Hey," Everard says, quietly, as he beckons the others over. "What do you call a very big cat that stalks the forest in the middle of winter?"
”Assuming that was not the setup for one of those human jokes, I would assume a cheetaur,” Heinrich says as he comes over, ”Two by the amount of those tracks, and they passed by not ten minutes ago. They may be in the area. We need to find a defensible position where we can put our backs to a wall. You can’t hope to out-manoeuvre these creatures.”
"Cheetaurs? That sounds both frightening and kind of exciting. Is there a good place nearby to set up our defence?"
Zayla casts mage armour on herself.
”I don’t remember one behind us,” Heinrich says, ”But perhaps ahead.”
"Ahead it is then." Felix readies his own sword.
Everard unslings his shield, readying homself for battle.
"Hug the rock," he says, businesslike. "Stop them from flanking us. I'll take point, then Mr. Pfefedern. Use me as a barrier and stab them over me. Zayla, artillery. Felix, try to get behind them once I've got their full attention."
”We need an area with a flat cliff. Cheetaurs can climb boulders like these and then they’re behind us and above.”
However, as you move forwards, he falls into his assigned position without complaint.
You continue slowly, trying to peer through the growing gloom and thickening snowfall. Your vision is now limited to fifty feet, though your hearing is not. Though the snow dampens sounds, you can hear the snow crunching beneath heavy feet somewhere in the murky darkness of the storm and an occasional feline hiss that lifts the hairs down the backs of your necks. The footprints you see are now crossing your path, moving in a semi-circle around your position. The cheetaurs seem to have caught your scent, and are hunting you.
"Here is the truth about a game of cat and mouse," Everard says. "The mouse never wins. Spook 'em, and don't let them get between us!"
Everard utters a warrior's wordless howl, a mindless scream of bloodlust that says here comes death or dinner, and either way it's pissed off and plans to tear through your insides with a blunted edge...
Initiatives
Felix is up first. He senses something coming at you through the falling snow, but he can’t yet see anything.
VP: 25, 25; WP: 12, 12
AC: 16/12/14; CMD: 20
F/R/W: +6/+6/+2
Felix will hold his action so he can act with the rest of the group. "Stay in formation. Move as one." Felix lets out a groan. "This must be bad. I'm quoting one of his books."
Suddenly, the storm seems to coalesce into an eight-foot tall monstrosity of feline and horse. The creature’s ears lay flat against its head as it swipes at Everard, drawing blood, then bounding ten feet further away, to almost disappear back into the storm.
Then it happens again from a different trajectory, though this time Everard gets his shield between the massive paw and his fleshy bits.
Everybody is up. These beasties are each ten feet away, and they both have Spring Attack. Please remember the visibility rules posted above if you wish to attempt any ranged options.
Bump..