As they move, Rabalar points out the areas where the dangerous vermin were last seen. "Spiders were up there."
Cpl. Rain
Aye...I will get some men to help get the young lady out of the woods. He turns to the other body farther in the woods. What about him?
Ferona sighs softly, wanting nothing more than to see this piece of refuse rot where he lay. "We need to take the corpse with us. So far it is the only concrete evidence we have encountered of those who may be responsible for the murders in town."
Grond continues following Rabalar up the stairs.
Party Entering the House
The group makes their way up the stairs with Soros in tow. The young Suel turns around and puts his back to the wall as the group walks up to the landing. He makes a point to keep the light of the staff up so it helps with lighting up the landing area.
D'ogryn then Grond make it up to the top. Both stop and D'ogryn points out the layout of the second floor with his hands as they both inspect the area. Grond can clearly see there was fighting as he can see the scuff marks on the wooden floor where the dirt and cobwebs have been displaced. Neither D'ogryn or Grond sense anything that would represent danger to the party at the moment. It is bit darker on the upper floor as there are less openings for sunlight to creep into and the halls are somewhat closed off from most of the windows. The only real light is from the daylight from the main door coming in from the bottom and Soro's magical light. The air is still up here and there is a smell of death...not strong but Grond can smell it through the strong odor of mildew and other foul odors.
"Where to? To grab the chest?" - Grond whispers - "And what is that smell?" - he adds, peering around the gloomy areas around them.
Nodding in agreement with Ferona, Brother Peran heads back to the fallen guard and starts to give her the final rites of St. Cuthbert, whispering the litany as his voice would surely crack if he tried to speak in his normal voice. Once the other guards come to collect their colleague, he directs them to the 'other' body.
"This one also needs to come, but worry not of treating this one with respect...he deserved none in life and certainly does not require any now!"
Narcisso nods in appreciation to Naia's words about his mother. He hadn't thought to mention how many years ago her death had been but knew some people never fully got over such an event. While he had fond memories, that was all they really were anymore. He wonders for a moment if anyone would even remember him if, or when, he died.
"A harpoon? For whaling, that makes sense. I had just never seen one before, and my weapon training was likely not much better than what your mage got. I've just practiced with mine a bit more than he likely has. If one would call sticking the pointy end into a goblin practice!" He grins at a memory with that statement. "But I'd hardly describe you as just a lass who can throw it hard! Not "just" anything if you've stood up in defense of your home. While I don't know fully what happened here, I see that you've captured someone and you're caring for wounded. There's obviously a tale to tell and I know Grond would agree with me that we'd like to hear it, probably once you get back to town and report to whoever is in charge."
"Since we've likely got some time to pass, guarding your prisoner, perhaps you could tell a story or two that your Gran used to tell? As a bard I'd love to hear such tales. We do songs and stories you know! All sorts of entertainment, some bards even dance. Although I sort of passed on that option, for now."
"Where to? To grab the chest?" - Grond whispers - "And what is that smell?" - he adds, peering around the gloomy areas around them.
Ferona sighs softly, wanting nothing more than to see this piece of refuse rot where he lay. "We need to take the corpse with us. So far it is the only concrete evidence we have encountered of those who may be responsible for the murders in town."Cpl. Rain
Aye...I will get some men to help get the young lady out of the woods. He turns to the other body farther in the woods. What about him?
Cpl. Rain looks to Ferona and back to the body. "I will take care of it. Men should be along shortly and we will get both out of the woods. I will take them to Barracks. I am sure Lira will want to tend to her body." He looks to the young girl wrapped in his cloak.
As he finishes you can hear the movement of men down the trail. They are talking to each other...the corporal calls them over.
Four young men come out of the trail and into the area. Cpl. Rain gives them instructions on what to do and to be careful with the bodies. He tells them to cover up the man and to take both to the barracks and inform the Master of Arms and the Jailer.
He turns to your group. "If you like I will guide you out to the main road."
You can hear the young men tending to bodies talking...lots of talk of evil spirits and foul signs...all of it under their breath but it is obvious this is not being taken lightly with every thing else going on.
You hear one of them say something about the commander's nephew...Thout you believe and another named Naia...their party has not returned from some house on the outskirts of town. One of the men seems to think Naia is an attractive women... Which make's Ferona's ears perk up considering it sounded like this was some sort of scouting party or hunting party.
You recall that this girl...Zove, the young elven girl, belonged to a group that was doing something similar.
"Where to? To grab the chest?" - Grond whispers - "And what is that smell?" - he adds, peering around the gloomy areas around them.
Yes. This way...the smell is from the dead.
We came this way...retrace our steps and we should be safe...
D'ogryn walks slowly down the hall towards the east and then south down that hallway.
Yes. This way...the smell is from the dead.
We came this way...retrace our steps and we should be safe...
D'ogryn walks slowly down the hall towards the east and then south down that hallway.
Grond nods and follows suit.
When she gets a moment she decides to confer with her two companions. "The other guards here mentioned there is another scouting party that has gone missing. I believe they were investigating an abandoned house on the outskirts of town. It would behoove us to inquire further when we return. The missing party may be related to these murders...and I do believe poor Zove was involved in some way."
The Party - 4th Day of Readying, GodsDay
Morning - 9.5 Hours Past Midnight
First Floor
Second Floor
To the west Grond sees a hallway covered in dirt, cobwebs, and debris (leaves, small twigs, dead bugs, and other nasty things). There are three old wooden doors that are closed to the north and two windows covered in boards on the inside with sunlight leaking through to the south.
D'ogryn doesn't detect anything of note nor does Grond or Rabalar. Soros looks intent on focusing the ceiling for some reason.
"Do you see anything?" - Grond asks Soros.
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Naia leans back, and eyes the nameless bastard. She smiles ruefully.
”I’m not sure how much of this actually happened, or was remembered right, nor how much was embellished by grog or grandstanding - and then I’m only remembering it as best I can but - here goes.”
”Me gram, Dara, was a blademaiden, and her beau Hamkal, my grandfather, a warrior too, though he preferred spears, and axes, and, importantly for this story, shields. Their group numbered...well...I’m guessing the adventurer’s life is full of waxing and waning fortunes, deaths, injuries and worse. But when they arrived in Orlane, on the edge of the Rushmoors they were six: Dara and Hamkal; the half-elf Vartis, a swordmage healer; the dwarf scout Bùggfa; Sifaya the druidess, and Sifaya’s henchman, the half-ogre Br’luk. At first, the town seemed fairly normal, though Br’luk always seemed to cause consternation among good townsfolk. The group had only stopped en route to some other locale, but pretty soon things started to creep out. F’rinstance, plenty of the farms were abandoned, crops untended, homes empty. The local temple of Merikka also seemed a little empty, and the head priest was decidedly odd.
Still, a warm bed, home cooked stew and a cozy fire at the Golden Grain Inn seemed like a good idea. Br’luk was consigned to the stables, but the rest took rooms and turned in.
Sometime in the early morning our stalwart band were set upon in their beds - men, and troglodytes and the false priests of Merikka stormed in on them and took them prisoner - all except Bùggfa who managed to fall out a window and escape. Poor Br’luk was taken also, the sheer weight of numbers, and him being a sleeping lummox helping no end. Soon Gram and the rest were trussed and marched to a secret chamber, stripped of their gear and interrogated. Eventually they were taken out of Orlane, through the Dim Forest and deep into the Rushmoors. There, in the midst of brackish fen a circular dike held back the swampwaters from a dry island. On the island stairs descended into a labyrinthine dungeon of caves, pools, cells, traps, creatures and more cultists”.
Naia stretches a little and grins before continuing.
So Gram and her beau and their friends made the arduous trek back to the island in the swamp. Only this time they had to fight their way through a host of inconveniences as Gram liked to call ‘em. These bits were always my favorite part of the story! More troglodytes, a horde of cultists, traps to avoid. All the usual dungeon stuff. Finally they were ready to face the naga.”
Naia becomes a little less boisterous, and her tone is serious.
”Br’luk fought valiantly, but was charmed early in the piece. While Gram fenced with the slimy naga Hamkal and Vartis had to turn on their ally, and slew him. Sifaya used the water to pound the naga, but it prevailed and returned magicks at the druidess, and she fell unconscious in the water. Bùggfa tried a sneak around, but was discovered and constricted snakewise, even in the midst of the fight. The poor scout’s back broke and he collapsed right there. Vartis and Hamkal watched in horror as me Gram finally succumbed to the naga’s charm. Their friend, Hamkal’s lover, now their deadly enemy. On the battle raged, Vartis taking a fell blow to his midsection, the naga weaving in and out of close combat, Dara hacking at her former allies. It was all Hamkal could do to stay alive, his axe fending off his lover’s blows, shield obstructing his eyes from the naga’s fell gaze. ”
Naia pauses, and becomes wistful.
”Yanno, it’s not as if I ant heard this story, or snatches of different parts of it a buncha times since I were small, but it really is a story of blood and death and folk fighting dread hard to kill. And yet, it never seemed more than a just an exciting one of Gram’s stories. Until now. After the past couple a days, I think I geddit. But I haven’t learned much by it. The goblins near turned me into paste. These bastard thugs near spit me to the doorpost. Hmmm.
Anyway. That was it. Vartis was hurt bad, and had run out of spells. Sifaya was drowning. Bùggfa broken, possibly dead. Br’luk slain. Dara an enemy. And the naga wounded but still hardy. Vartis leapt at the creature while Hamkal faced Gram. And as luck would have it, or fate, or whatever one believes in, it was the naga that made everything happen the way it did. It swatted Vartis like a bug, the half-elf flew like a ragdoll, plop! Into the water. The naga rushed Hamkal, and forced his hand. He had been trying to fend Gram off and away, while she was intent on removing his head. So, he did it. He hacked her arm off, below the elbow. Chop! and it was gone, plop! into the water it went. The naga screamed as its new lieutenant was disarmed. Heh. Gram never lets Gramps rest for his awesome blow. Hamkal smashed his shield up and under the naga’s chin and lifted its cunning head clean away with a backhand sweep. And plop! The head joined Gram’s arm in the water.
‘Course with the naga dead, Gram was herself again, or beside herself as it were, what with the pain. I guess the grief came later. Sifaya lived, but she was heartbroken at losing her henchman, half-ogre that he was. And Bùggfa, well he did live, but he was never the same again.. Vartis disappeared with the elves. The group was done, and though there was treasure to be had, and Orlane saved by heroes, those heroes were spent. So they farewell’d Safiya and Bùggfa and returned to Saltmarsh. Had kids, a family, a business on the sea.”
Naia gives a wry smile.
”I guess that weren’t the uplifting adventure it might have been. Their last. Still, it makes for a fine tale.”
Narciso stays silent through the entire tale as Naia relates it. As she wraps it up he leans back and thinks for a few moments. Realizing that his silence might be taken wrong he smiles at Naia, "It is indeed a fine tale. And you likely have the truth of it, which would be why you say it isn't an "uplifting adventure" story. But I'd wager that most of the tales you might have heard during your life, from traveling bards or entertainers, or even old men talking across a mug of three of ale are.... embellishments of stories very similar to what you just told."
"In the end the evil forces were routed, the dread Naga slain, and the loving couple survived to retire, settle down and raise a family. The minor embellishments added would be things like, the scar that your Gran had on her arm from the disabling strike that her lover had to use, or the horde of enemy soldiers that were crushed by Br'luk before the enemy was finally able to kill the valiant half-ogre.... Or maybe in the story he'd become a full ogre, very intelligent for his kind and tamed by the very charming druidess Sifaya. And of course the story would grow as it was retold. Maybe the naga was a powerful sorceress, or maybe even a summoner of demons, and a few of those fell creatures would be added to the tale."
"No. That was a fine tale and an uplifting adventure. And a warning for those of us that are currently following an adventuring path. There will be hard times, and evil forces that we will face. If we are lucky, most of us will survive, defeat our enemies and win some treasure and be able to retire in comfort to raise a family. And then we can tell our stories to our children, or grand children...."
Cpl Rain and Four Town Guardsman
The young corporal oversees securing the two bodies. They create two stretchers with long young limbs, rope, and their cloaks.
Cpl. Rain then gives them final instructions...Take the two bodies through the trail I will be right behind you. Go directly to the barracks. Three of the guards acknowledge while the remaining man nods and picks up an end of the young girl's stretcher.
The four begin to make their way out of the clearing and onto the animal trail He turns to Antas...I will take lead and you can follow. Keep a sharp eye out...I doubt there will be any other hunters in the woods with the wolves nearby but you ya never know these days.
The young cook looks back down towards the front door. Seeing the shattered door lying in pieces gives him pause.
This house is old and falling apart. Watch your footing and let us hope we do not break anything else while we are here.
He looks back down the hallway to the east and then back to the west.
Pointing back towards the east...
The goblins came at us from somewhere down that way...
Placing one hand on the railing and walking slowly towards the hallway leading to the chest, D'ogryn keeps his thoughts on the task at hand.
Naia listens, and nods. A wolfish smile crosses her mouth.
”Not such a minor embellishment is me Gram missing her arm from the elbow down! You’ll meet her. Just don’t stare.” she jokes. She turns serious again, in the way you are becoming used to, an easy way with changing from mirth to musing to maudlin.
”As for the naga, I’m fairly sure she was an enchanter of some type, well beyond what her kind are known for, whatever that is.”
She makes a visual check on Edan by Thout, and the nameless man.
”C’mon lads.” she chides the lowering sky.
The Nameless Cutthroat and the Goblin
The goblin seems to grunt and complain but his language is both garbled and incoherent at times. Edan looks over to him as Naia tells her tale and check on him. He walks to the open side away from the stranger. It is clear the goblin is complaining...Edan pulls out his canteen and lifts the thing's head up and gives him his last bit of water. Displays the canteen is empty and puts the cork in it and ties it back on his belt.
The goblin seems to settle down...
The man, wounded badly seems to just stare at Naia and occasionally back at Edan. He looks at Edan and then spits on the ground but it causes him more pain and discomfort then he intended and grunts...
Edan turns to him..."You make this more difficult then it needs to be stranger. Only a fool fights a fight he cannot win...I don't see you as a fool. Filled with false pride...but not a fool." The Touv turns and walks back to Thout and check on him. The young dwarf seems to be sleeping. His face his covered in sweat and his skin is warm to the touch but his breathing is normal. Edan looks at Naia and nods as she finishes her story.
|
Antas considers all he has learned as he nods to Rain and follows along trying to mull things over in his mind.
that light crossbow seen time at sea and was made far off for sure in the holds of the sea princess, but the brass dagger has s a local blacksmith mark. Add to it that we saw the four sailors coming into town on horseback and found it mighty strange. Then we got someone dropping bodies in the pier and killin folk in the woods. I need ta talk with the black smith in town to see what he remembers about these sailors and we need ta find the rest before they get ta more mischief. There is a lot of problems we need ta solve for sure!
The young cook looks back down towards the front door. Seeing the shattered door lying in pieces gives him pause.
This house is old and falling apart. Watch your footing and let us hope we do not break anything else while we are here.He looks back down the hallway to the east and then back to the west.
Pointing back towards the east...
The goblins came at us from somewhere down that way...Placing one hand on the railing and walking slowly towards the hallway leading to the chest, D'ogryn keeps his thoughts on the task at hand.
Another nod from the half-orc - "Let me know if you want me to lead the way" - he whispers back, aware there is a limit to the situations in which 'scouting ahead' is the best option.
-----------------------------
Antas, Ferona, Peran - 4th Day of Readying, Godsday (worship day)
Late Afternoon - 6 hours past noon
-------------------------------------
The trek back to the edge of the woods by Peddlar's Road is taking more time getting out to the site of the young girl's death. The two bodies give the four young guardsman many problems in the woods due to the broken terrain and narrow trails.
Right now you in the middle of the open field you crossed and the Corporal as told his four young men to take a break for a moment.
15% - normal encounter
5% - unusual encounter
Ferona takes advantage of the break here to talk quietly with her two companions, "While it is clear these sailors were responsible for the death of Zove and her companion, I do not...as of yet...see any connection with her murder and the murder of the young woman at the harbor. Still, stranger circumstances have unfolded before so I am willing to keep an open mind here. As for the riders being on horseback, it would make little sense for sailors to rent or purchase horses unless, A: they needed to travel inland, and B: they needed to get to their destination in a hurry! A visit to the stable master who sold them the horses would be a wise decision."
Party in the Haunted House
D'ogryn Floor Collapse 1 in 4 chance it collapses with one person (2 in 4 with more than one).
Grond Floor Collapse 1 in 4 chance it collapses with one person (2 in 4 with more than one).
Rabalar Floor Collapse 1 in 4 chance it collapses with one person (2 in 4 with more than one).
Soros Floor Collapse 1 in 4 chance it collapses with one person (2 in 4 with more than one).
VHN 25
RE 15
PHN 15
D'ogryn turns south down the hall and can see both doors to the west are still open as you left them when you brought the prisoner down. You pass the first door and can see it is still in the dimly lit room...although for the Suel he can't really see in the dark shadows.
Rabalar and Soros stop just as the hall turns south. Rabalar checks down the east hall and Soros keeps his eyes fixed to the west and towards the ceiling (more to the ceiling).
Lets see if we can get everyone putting up at least 1 post a day from Monday to Friday!
Narciso chuckles at Naia's reply, "Nay, and thanks for the warning about not staring. I've seen too many combat survivors missing parts. And an arm removed to save a life, while a terrible thing, is still a valid price paid. I hope to never have to pay that price myself though."
"But what I meant about embellishments was that the heroes in the tales never suffer maiming. The embellishment is that the missing arm is restored with but a scar to show for the encounter! The most popular tales don't even include things like the deaths of any heroes, usually glossing over such details by not mentioning them after their heroic actions in the battle that finally defeated the dread enemy. That's how you tell a tale of heroes and glory! Reality is gloomy and upsets people wanting to enjoy dinner and drinks. It should only be told to children when you are trying to scare them off of a life of adventuring!"
Glancing over at the goblin, "Does anyone understand that thing's language? I speak a few, but not that one. Or is it capable of speaking a human language?"
Edan
He looks over to the Goblin and back to Narciso. No...I think Rabalar might know but I never pressed him. He doesn't care for goblins...but I never asked why.
The world is not kind to those that seek their fortune by the blade... Most never leave this world whole. Naia your Nan is lucky to only have lost her arm. It is remarkable that all of you made it out alive. I can see why you look up to her. I wish I knew this tale before I supped with her and your grandfather!
He walks towards the door and seems to put his ear to the house as if to listen inside.
I can hear Soros and Grond talking... At least they are still alive and if Soros isn't screaming that means they haven't stumbled upon another infestation of pests! He seems to wrinkle his nose as he turns back around towards Naia and Narciso. Prefered the goblins...not fond of things crawling all over me.
Moving through the nearly familiar ruined house, the olf keeps his eyes and ears open, trusting D'Og to get them to the immediate prize so Grond, and maybe another in the group, can carry the chest outside.
D'ogryn checks the room to make sure all is clear before moving in.
This is the chest I was talking about. I have heard of some magic that helps fix things. My hope is that if we can not get it open...we can fix it so that I can open it.
This is the chest I was talking about. I have heard of some magic that helps fix things. My hope is that if we can not get it open...we can fix it so that I can open it.
Grond peers around inside the room, then hoists the halberd at his back, and moves to the chest to garner its weight.
Naia listens and nods.
"I guess you are right. The tale Gram told was a war story, not a heroic tale. No one ever seems to go to the privy in the sagas..."
Her glance darkens slightly as she considers their less appealing captive.
"I offered him succour, food, kindness. He gave nothing but sourness in return. I wonder - are they born bad, or is it just that that is what they teach each other?!?"
"Ha Ha Ha Ha! That would be a glorious tale, but I fear the audience would focus on the humor rather than the heroics. Just imagine it.... The Lord Valoureous, Heroic Paladin of Iomedae, needed to relieve himself in the privy. He struggled mightily but his efforts were thwarted by a significant lack of fiber in his diet. In his next battle his cramping bowels weakened his sword arm and he was unable to strike his enemy before numerous arrows bypassed his shield and armor and his light was darkened forever. Thus endeth Lord Valoureous, Heroic Paladin of Iomedae. Now children, remember this tale and eat your vegetables!"
Narciso chuckles for a few moments after his tale, but darkens with Naia's words about the goblin. He stares at the goblin for a bit, then shrugs, "It's really hard to tell without the ability to speak or understand their language. I doubt that they are born bad, but their culture may include a belief that all races other than theirs is evil. Try to think of his life from his viewpoint. He faced your team in battle. You won. He is alive, but a prisoner. He can't communicate with anyone so he doesn't know what his future holds. If he was trained to believe terrible things about humans he might think that he is going to be tortured.... Or cooked and eaten. Or enslaved."
"He seems to have some intelligence, at least enough to have a language. From my experience intelligent creatures choose good or evil. Only totally non-intelligent are just born evil. Of course I've heard tales of things like demons that just are evil! So maybe I'm wrong!?!"
Moving through the nearly familiar ruined house, the olf keeps his eyes and ears open, trusting D'Og to get them to the immediate prize so Grond, and maybe another in the group, can carry the chest outside.
[dice=Perception]1d20+7
You don't notice anything that would alert you to danger. You do notice that you and your friends are making a lot of noise... creaking wood, crunching leaves, and lots of talking. The noise is echoing off the walls.
The Nameless Man
He spits as Narciso finishes about the goblin and seems to chuckle. The goblin looks at the man with a weird grimace and then turns his head to Edan and the rest and seems to relax...his look is bewildered. The man continues to laugh to himself... Albeit in pain as he does.
The Peddler Wood Party
The group makes it out of the edge of the woods. A wagon with horses and two additional guardsman await. The young corporal helps his men get the two bodies loaded on to the wagon. Has the four men get water and then takes the waterskin and drinks. He then offers it to Ferona and the rest of the group.
He turns to the two guardsmen that are with the wagon. "Take the bodies back to the barracks. Quietly...take the long way around. No stops. Let the Master of Arms know it is Zove and one of her slayers."
He turns to the four men that helped with the bodies. You four back to the barracks straightaway... Take the normal route...people will see you have nothing. No stops. Straight to the barracks! Get some hot chow and get some rest.
He turns to Peran who is the nearest one of your group. Have you any more need for of me priest? I need to let talk to Lira as she requested my presence when I arrived. I am sure I will be questioned about what happened and what you found. Is there anything you would like me to pass on?
The day is late and the three of you are now hungry and thirsty from the trek in the woods.
D'ogryn checks the room to make sure all is clear before moving in.
[dice=Perception]1d20 + 5
This is the chest I was talking about. I have heard of some magic that helps fix things. My hope is that if we can not get it open...we can fix it so that I can open it.
D'ogryn and Grond and the rest if they peer into the storage room
This room appears to have been used for storage when the house was kept in good repair. A large oak chest stands under the window, its lid closed and it appears to have cuts into it as if something or someone was attempting to get into it. Elsewhere in the room are three wooden chairs, all broken, two splintered wooden buckets and a mildewed sack. Just inside the door are two sacks. No dust is on these two sacks and they appear to have been put there recently.
The chest stands under window. There are spots of blood in the room and it is apparent there was a fight in the room. Blood is also on the wall up in the southwest corner and covering the mildew sack.
"'Ware the hole in the ceiling. Multiple goblins came down through it."
true, never know what will come out of those holes...damn cockroach.
The half orc peers up the hole before attempting to drag the chest a few feet, to garner its weight and if he might be able to carry it by himself.
Ferona nods gratefully to the corporal and takes a long swig of water from the waterskin before passing it to her companions. "Thank you for your assistance but we should retire back to our rooms back at the Rest. " She ponders the situation briefly before nodding emphatically. "Our presence may already be missed; we need to hurry quickly but stealthily!" Once Peran has indicated the group is ready to depart she takes the lead back towards the House of Hymns, still keeping an eye out for anyone suspicious.
We need to keep an eye out for trouble and try to keep the noise down to limit attracting unwanted attention.
Naia laughs wholeheartedly at Narciso’s toilet-tale. She shakes her head when the bard speaks of the nature of evil.
”I dunno Narciso, if they are unintelligent, they are just acting natural. Good and evil are...ways...we have made to describe actions, or mebbe concepts we have borrowed from the gods. I don’t think a dire wolf is evil, it’s hungry. Nature doesn’t bother wi’ good or evil. We humans do. And elves and dwarves and the rest of course.” she adds hastily. ”I don’t know as to devils and demons, but I suppose you’re right about them...”
Seeing the Nameless Bastard laughing brings out her own malice.
”Keep laughing ‘bastard. Mebbe you’ll split your wounds or piss yerself and burst your bladder.”
Anger vented and insult appropriately bestowed the Temlow lass returns to the philosophical conversation.
”That bloody goblin though - sure, his gang tried to murder us. We slaughtered them. A couple times. I didn’t get angsty about it like I did when bastard-face here shivved Thout. An’ like ai said, I tried to show kindness, mebbe he just didn’t understand, but offering him food and the like is pretty universal...Maybe he dunt like fish, or thought I was trying to trick him with poisoned food. Or he thinks fish IS poison...”
Naia laughs wholeheartedly at Narciso’s toilet-tale. She shakes her head when the bard speaks of the nature of evil.
”I dunno Narciso, if they are unintelligent, they are just acting natural. Good and evil are...ways...we have made to describe actions, or mebbe concepts we have borrowed from the gods. I don’t think a dire wolf is evil, it’s hungry. Nature doesn’t bother wi’ good or evil. We humans do. And elves and dwarves and the rest of course.” she adds hastily. ”I don’t know as to devils and demons, but I suppose you’re right about them...”
Seeing the Nameless Bastard laughing brings out her own malice.
”Keep laughing ‘bastard. Mebbe you’ll split your wounds or piss yerself and burst your bladder.”
Anger vented and insult appropriately bestowed the Temlow lass returns to the philosophical conversation.
”That bloody goblin though - sure, his gang tried to murder us. We slaughtered them. A couple times. I didn’t get angsty about it like I did when bastard-face here shivved Thout. An’ like ai said, I tried to show kindness, mebbe he just didn’t understand, but offering him food and the like is pretty universal...Maybe he dunt like fish, or thought I was trying to trick him with poisoned food. Or he thinks fish IS poison...”
Edan
Edan seems to ponder both Narciso's and Naia's conversation for bit. I am not sure I agree with this Naia. I do think that most are born into nature with the desire to find balance in life...neither good nor evilj simply to live in some form of harmony with their surroundings and those that live and commune with them. But, there are those that are born into darkness and those into light. Their view is based on this and so they live in that darkness. Or that light from skewed perception of the world around them. Berna herself was born into darkness...from the seed of Meyanok. You probably have not heard of Meyanok but he is a god of darkness... A god of serpents, poison, discord, darkness, and famine. A true god of evil... He is the progenitor of Vara, Damaran, and Berna, who hatched from eggs spawned from the mating of Meyanok's anger and lust. The goddess was born in darkness but she did not stay there! She is now the goddess of passion and forgiveness...She represents the forgiveness of wrongs. So I think there is hope for that little fellow... I don't know about the other one yet... We might need to hang him and then forgive him! He gives Naia a smile as he says that tells her and Narciso that last comment was more for show than his sincere belief.
"I think noise may be our friend right now, D'Og. Vermin don't chase it, and if there are any surviving goblins, despite our prisoner's claims otherwise, they shouldn't be willing to risk themselves directly."
He watches Grond, and if there is ANY sign the chest is a little heavy, or simply too bulky, he moves to assist.
Naia listens politely, but her eyes screw up a little at all the theology.
"Like I said. Gods." she replies with a shrug.