Hexa chortles in his reptilian way at Sams amazement, holding up his symbol of Mazludeh as his focus of his strange powers. "Mazludeh give Hexa St'ength. Hexa t'ankss and Mazludeh givess again."
Mikmek's words made him close his eyes as he waited for the others to respond to his initial question. When Sams speaks up first at the difference and number of 'lizard people' Hexa chortles throatily again. "The Scaled are few in dis land Sams. Hexa's tribe no tread far der sswamp and Hexa unssure how Sootscale dwell."
He nods to Mikmek then once the silence remained prolonged. "Mikmek says Tartuk stand alone. Speak to Chief Sootscale, fight with Hexa. Den Tartuk die quick."
He considers for a moment. "Wit' Tartuk dead, Mites broken, Little Scales help kiel MItes. Warband attack Easier for Ahto, yes?"
"That could work. Assuming his entire tribe is as honorable as Mikmek here. It would be great to have allies out here." He hoped that's what they could be. At least the kobold's probably were more trustworthy than the mites could ever be.
Once you break camp, Mikmek guides the party onward to the southeast.
Seemingly after every half mile, he promises that the Sootscale cave is just around the next bend or drop in the land.
After the fourth mile, he is correct.
An outcropping of large boulders emerges from the weathered face of a nearby hillock. A narrow opening in the rock leads into darkness below.
A fallen sign leans against the side of the cave entrance, offering the words "Oaktop Silver Mine" in faded Taldan words.
A cage made of branches and sticks sits on the other side. Inside the cage, a single miserable mite cowers in the corner, sobbing and shielding its bulbous eyes from the rising sunlight.
Another kobold, its scales a dark gray similar to Mikmek, hops out from behind a rock atop the outcropping and accosts the approaching party.
Mikmek responds excitedly.
The sentry's eyes light up with excitement to match Mikmek's and waves for the party to follow into the cavern.
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Seeing everyone in agreement Hexa nods, Help Sootscale, Kill Tartuk, Save Tree and kill mites. Easy. When they broke camp he followed Mikmek, intent on being the first one seen by the little scale tribe.
He follows Mikmek to the cave front, Tal carrying the dead Little Scales which were covered under a bedrolls to prevent the sun from reaching them. He takes in his surroundings and notes the old sign, huffing at the old relic of failed invaders of the past before reaching the entrance. His gaze falls heavy on the mite, he half thought of ending it's misery but left it. For now.
Being introduced to Nakpik he holds out a claw before speaking to both little scale in hushed tones.
Wishing to bolster their courage for them Hexa holds up his symbol of Mazludeh. As Mikmek knew from Hexa's healing the day before, that Mazludeh was a benevolent goddess.
As Nakpik leads the way he looks to Ahto and everyone to make sure they were ready before following. Head held high as he told Tal to come with. He pulls the statue of Sharptooth from his pack and holds it in his hand.
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Wonky sees Ahto in the morning looking worse than before.
"Oh, Ahto! I wish you would let me help you - it would not take very long. Now, I think that the Red Ache has set in. When we make camp tonight, I will make a poultice for you to wear over both of your wrists so as to draw the yellow bile. Most people think that the Red Ache is a preponderance of blood, but that is preposterous - Septim Darwheelius clearly showed in his treatise on disease entitled, "My Treatise on Disease" - he was not very clever with his titles, sadly - that the Red Ache is a hepatic-based inflammatory state, requiring yellow bile drainage. Anyhow, after we have dispatched this kobold impostor, we can talk..."
Wonky sees the pathetic mite sobbing in the cage.
"Now that is just not playing fair," she mutters, trying not to pay attention to the pathetic scene.
She perks up at Hexa's preparatory words.
"Just one moment, Hexa!" Wonky prepares an elixir from her belt pouch, pulls out three gold pieces, places them in her mouth, and then swallows the elixir around the gold pieces, spitting them back out again. She then makes sure Sprocket's pack is secured, ruffles his ears, and straighten back up. I am ready for action, Hexa!"
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Wonky sees Ahto in the morning looking worse than before.
"Oh, Ahto! I wish you would let me help you - it would not take very long. Now, I think that the Red Ache has set in. When we make camp tonight, I will make a poultice for you to wear over both of your wrists so as to draw the yellow bile. Most people think that the Red Ache is a preponderance of blood, but that is preposterous - Septim Darwheelius clearly showed in his treatise on disease entitled, "My Treatise on Disease" - he was not very clever with his titles, sadly - that the Red Ache is a hepatic-based inflammatory state, requiring yellow bile drainage. Anyhow, after we have dispatched this kobold impostor, we can talk..."
"Yes, thank you, Wonky. We can look into it tonight, once we've camped again. Right now, we need to be focused on the kobolds and what we can do to win their support against the mites."
Paval silently follows the group, still pretending he doesn't understand the exchange between Hexa and the kobolds.
Mikmek begins to rush forward when Nakpik grabs his arm and stops him in his tracks. They chatter briefly, and Mikmek slaps the side of his muzzle, realizing he forgot something.
Nakpik slips down a side alcove and unlocks a rusted gate. Three ropes, ending in knotted loops, hang from holes in the cavern ceiling.
One by one, Nakpik grabs a rope, pulls downward, and catches the loop on an iron hook hammered into the floor.
Mikmek points to the tunnel just beyond. His hand gestures, accompanied by colorful sound effects of falling and splattering, make it abundantly clear that the entrance is guarded by pit traps.
Once the traps are disabled, the two kobolds escort the party inside. Much to Sams’ dismay, these tunnel openings are even more confining than the mite’s lair. Owing to some partial collapses and purposefully heaped rocks, even Nakpik and Mikmek have to clamber through the tight passage. Fortunately, the tunnels widen into a more comfortable level of cramped afterwards.
...
Passing by some hidden nooks, two more kobold sentries emerge and stare up in confusion at the big folks being escorted inside. They quickly fall in step behind the party.
You are guided down a tunnel turning to the left, which leads you past some sort of ceremonial chamber.
The walls of this cave have been smeared with what appears to be charcoal and blood to depict multiple representations, in red and black, of a looming, sharp-toothed reptilian devil. Two low stone tables sit in the middle of the room, one of which is stained with blood.
There is little time to appreciate these grim sights as your escorts hasten onwards down one more twisting tunnel that opens onto a, thankfully, larger chamber.
...
The air in this larger cave feels warm and close, thick with a reptilian stink mixed with smoke and burnt meat.
Numerous beds of furs lie scattered throughout the room amid smoldering cookfires, while to the south, a ten-foot-wide alcove contains a large mound of furs framed by dozens of sticks on which are mounted the skulls of many birds and small animals, all smeared with ash.
Another half dozen kobolds loiter in this common area - two of them roasting small lizards over the sputtering fires while the others mix some manner of paper mache.
One more kobold rises from its morose seat upon a worn rock. This one, possessing jet black scales, stands out from the rest. He is clad in strips of bark and red feathers. A long-snouted skull sits atop his head as a crown, and many brass and copper rings adorn piercings from his nose and frills. As he stands, he raises a bone club shod in iron to keep the tribe quiet as the party approaches.
Hexa nods to the others as they prepare and stares at Sams quizzically when he announces his dislike for tight spaces. Finally he gives Paval a knowing glance before following Nakpik and Mikmek past their Pit-traps which he makes a mental note of how they disable them. Just in case.
Going deeper gives Hexa a comfortable feeling at first, the smell of fellow reptilians was comforting but he didn't let it lull him into complacency. As more little scale joined them he took note of their weapons and the obvious route back to the surface. In case things went against them.
The ceremonial chamber leaves him with an aching anger, normally he wouldn't care but things had changed in him this last year alone. Seeing such useless acts and bloodletting for supposed divine beings left him angry. With the losses this tribe had sustained in recent months, it wouldn't be long until they joined the mites in being broken.
When they hasten past and into the final chamber he took in the scent with a powerful inhale, the belts on his wooden armor creaked with the swelling of his chest. Here the numbers were far greater but he noted their weapons and when the last little scale rises, adorned in rings and bearing a different prescence to the others is when he knew they had found Sootscale. Chieftain of the Sootscales.
Hexa kneels just inside the entrance of the larger cave, trying to show respect and not tower over the little scales Chief. With Tal close by he has her kneel down and he removes the fallen little scale from her back. Setting them gently on his bedroll alongside him before placing the Statue of Sharptooth in front of him. Not once does he utter a word as he showed respect to Chief Sootscale command of his tribe. With that done he waited for the Chieftain to speak first.
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Ahto follows Hexa's lead and drops to one knee beside him, confident that the lizard man has a better understanding of the kobolds than he.
"Do you wish to lead the negotiations?" He asks Hexa. "Your appearance is more familiar to them, and you speak their language. I can offer counsel, if you like, but you will have to translate their Chief's words for me."
Chief Sootscale's eyes shine with excitement when he sees the recovered statue presented to him.
He snatches up the statue and holds it in his hands with a fierce look of concentration, as if he were making a particularly difficult decision.
Finally, he shrieks in triumph, holds the statue over his head, and then smashes it down onto the ground, shattering it.
The other kobolds in the room freeze in shock before Chief Sootscale, a frantic grin on his snout, bellows to them.
Not so much a cheer but a wave of collective relief passes over the assembled kobolds. It is clear that the tribe has long awaited this moment.
Chief Sootscale turns to Hexa and the party.
"We thank you. We kiel bad shaman, free tribe. It be honor if warband help."
Having little time to speak to Ahto and the rest, his breath steadies as Sootscale snatched up the statue. However, the results were better than he expected when the Chieftain did what he did. Hexa was glad to be invited so quickly, it was a good time to become friends of the Sootscale Tribe, an oppourtunity they couldn't miss.
With a fierce look of determination, he looks at Chief Sootscale and nods.
Looking to Ahto he says. "Tribess all different, Hexa did what thought best, not anger Chief Sootscale." It was the truth, he assumed at the silence that Sootscale was one to talk first. Being an outsider you don't offend the chief, lest you dance with death.
He chuckled at Sams question, liking the straightforward blutness of He who Fights with Fists. "Hexa kind come in many scales, Ssams."
With that said he was now looking for the Purple Shaman Tartuk, commanding Tal to heel and follow him...
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Wonky appears fascinated as she wanders through the kobold warrens, taking it all in. Internally, her thoughts are a different matter.
Clearly, we are walking into the belly of a would-be beast. If these kobolds do not take a shine to us, it might be more difficult clearing them out than it was clearing out the mites. At least the kobolds are occupying a den that is not harming the natural world.
Sprocket follows Wonky along dutifully, growling briefly at the kobold sentries just as they appear, but ceasing at Wonky's words of warning. Once in the common chamber in front of Chief Sootscales, Sprocket sits, tongue lolling out of his mouth.
""This warband has freed us from the curse! Freed us from the Purple Shaman! The time has come to kill the usurper!"
Sprocket barks enthusiastically at this.
Wonky peers at the statue of Sharptooth, having not seen it before (as she was separated from the party when it was found previously).
"Why did we give Chief Sootscales a statue of an imp?" Wonky wonders aloud.
Paval moves over to Sams as the big man apparently needed some guidance. "They say it bears a curse of some kind. We are here to help deal with that. Next step would be taking out the source of this curse."
Chief Sootscale leads a procession deeper into the warren, through a wider tunnel that still bears the old cleft of miners' picks.
Wizened old timbers still support the roof and walls in places, shored up by leaner, more impromptu works by the kobolds.
The band squeezes past one last narrows of fallen rocks and stalagmites, then crosses a shallow pool of muddy water collected on the ground, to enter the shaman's sanctum.
On approach, Wonky and Aris can just make out the whispered sounds of someone invoking a spell. From the incantation, it seems like an abjuration.
The walls of this cavern are decorated by a rickety wooden frame formed from clean-cut branches lashed together with gut and twine.
Banners cut from two-foot-wide strips of old blankets and horsehides hang from floor to ceiling, covering much of the walls. The sloppily painted banners bear dozens of primitive icons and mystic symbols.
A large cauldron filled with bubbling red liquid boils in the center of the room.
A leering kobold of purple scales stands beside the cauldron.
As the party and tribe enter, he reaches his hand to the side and some manner of wand floats into his grasp.
"Why have you brought these soft, scaleless ones into our domain? the shaman demands in haltingly clear common.
A raven flaps down from its perch on an old lantern rung in the ceiling. The bird, its feathers matted with dirt, lands atop the shaman's hunched shoulders.
Surprisingly, the bird croaks out words in hoarse Draconic.
At Wonky's question Hexa speaks, low and simmering with anger. "It iss Imp rock Aoi'Si Wonky. Not Sharptooth, Tartuk liess to Sootscale. Hexa no undersstand, Why." He was angry because he disliked being confused and that the Little Scale were so ignorant to not know that Sharptooth was a fake.
______________Confronting The Shaman_____________
Hexa tiger like growl echoed loudly in these caves, Tartuk's words were a challenge and calling him scaleless a deep Insult. Especially since his tribe didn't take intimidation lightly and he wouldn't let Tartuk control the little scales further. The symbol of Mazludeh hung visibly against his scarred scales, his wooden armor creaked as he steadied his breathing as he moves to the front of the group. Diverting the Shamans attention with his scars, muscles and fearless manner as he called on the lean dexterity of the tiger to aid him in combat making him appear leaner and growing hair from the back of his head down his back to his tail tip.
Towering over the little scales and the Chieftain as he looks down at the purple-scaled shaman, Tartuk. He wasn't there to mince words, he would do as Chief Sootscale asked without hesitation. As soon as he was at the front he lunged forward pulling out his handaxe and keeping a clawed hand free as he went for the kill. He'd not let Tartuk speak further if he could and fighting a Shaman was suicide at a distance...
Hexa would gamble his life in cutting down Tartuk up close so he could rip his throat out and still his foul tongue...
Paval - 19
Hexa - 19
Kobolds - 12
Chief Sootscale - 9
Aris - 9
Sprocket - 9
Tartuk - 6
Sams - 6
Ahto - 5
Wonky - 4
After the shaman and his familiar taunt the warband, Tartuk's defiant confidence fades as the imposing Hexa edges his way to the forefront.
Hexa jumps forth and aims for the purple scale's head with his handaxe. However, an invisible force deflects the swing at a crucial moment, and Hexa's attack inflicts a more glancing blow on Tartuk.
Tartuk stumbles backward with a low screech of shock that quickly evolves into an incantation.
A wave of cold dread washes over Hexa, but in his righteous frenzy, the scaled warrior remains steeled against the bulk of the magically induced fear.
Ahto's bolt misses the shaman and glances his familiar, tearing a loose feather from its length and eliciting a rasping caw of protest.
The wave of fear irritated him like in the mite cavern he shook his head hard to throw it off to no avail. With his muscles still quaking afterward, he dropped the handaxe and went after Tartuk with his bare claws. Intending now to tear the cowardly Shaman apart and show the Sootscale that he was worthy of trust as he advanced on Tartuk once more.
He claws at Tartuk then, aiming for throat and Torso as he tried to injure the Shaman more and ends his flurry of wild clawing with biting at Tartuk with his sharp fangs as his wooden armor creaks in protest to the vicious motions.
Paval draws his sword and skirts the room, trying to circle around the shaman as Hexa makes his frontal assault.
Hexa fights against the magical force that protects the shaman from the rake of his claws.
However, as the scaled hunter lunges forward with his own teeth, he manages to breach the unseen barrier and briefly gnash upon Tartuk's shoulder.
Most of the assembled kobolds simply cheer on as the source of their misery is finally rooted out.
Chief Sootscale seeks to redeem his honor before his tribe, and he rushes forward.
He brandishes and swings his iron-bound bone club, but the wild attack misses handily.
Zmrazit!
A ball of ice forms quickly in Aris's hand, and she quickly tosses it away as frigid mist cascades down her arm. Her aim is true enough, and the snowball impacts on Tartuk's chest.
Aris concentrates for a moment, conjuring forth a dog. Unlike Sprocket, though, this dog is lean, lanky, and with coarse, patchy fur. It growls and rushes forward toward Tartuk.
Aris' magic bypasses the protection of the shaman's shielding spell, and the sturdy snowball bruises and cracks some of Tartuk's ribs.
Although he manages to endure the magic cold, Tartuk stumbles, clearly nearing his body's limit in this coup.
Tartuk steps back from the onrush of opponents, nearly wedging himself between the wooden frames lining a narrow passage at the rear of his chamber.
As he moves, he bitterly howls in Gnomish, of all tongues.
Tartuk punctuates his words by raising his wand and croaking a rough command, sending two green bolts of magic energy crackling at Hexa.
Sams' mighty uppercut catches Tartuk beneath his purple snout, and the blow lifts him clear off the ground.
The shaman's unconscious body flops against one of the wooden frames, and the crudely painted banner falls atop the shaman like a blanket or shroud.
A resounding cheer rises from the kobolds as they watch Tartuk fall.
Hexa recovers his handaxe, then turns back to stand over Tartuk. He looks to Ahto briefly as he leans over the fallen Shaman. Then he recalls Tartuks last words before he calls over to Wonky and Arisl instead. "Aoi'Si, Tartuk sspeak but Hexa not know..."
He fumbles the words, not knowing how to make them sound...
He ignores his injuries, intent on making sure Tartuk doesn't recover. Kicking the wand away...
"I...don't think he is a lizard, Sams." Aris pauses, looking at their unconscious enemy. "Do you think we could keep him from dying so we can have a talk with him?"
She turns to Hexa. "He spoke the same language Wonky does, which seems odd. 'I never asked to be reborn like this!' I doubt he's always been a kobold. Either that, or he's an excellent liar who somehow learned a language that's not overwhelmingly common here."
The shaman's wand clatters across the cave floor after Hexa kicks it away.
His raven familiar flits away, dodging a volley of grasping hands and swinging clubs from the kobolds who chase after it.
Chief Sootscale shuffles over with his bone club raised above his head, intending to cave in Tartuk's skull.
However, Hexa and the rest of the warband ward off the eager chief for now.
The shaman bleeds from wounds inflicted by Hexa, but Sams' finishing blow means that Tartuk is not in immediate danger of dying - so long as he is not left to the "mercy" of the tribe.
Aris and Wonky notice a peculiarity with Tartuk's scales. Kobolds are known for displaying a variety of scale colors, but Tartuk's deep purple scales are unprecedented.
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Hexa nods to Arisl, accepting her wisdom before looking at the now stable Tartuk. Ahto's magic may have been wasted but that was out of Hexa's hands with Sootscale demanded Tartuk's head. "Tartuk can no longer lie to Sootscale. Sootscale may try to punish Tartuk by tribe..." He leaves Tartuk to the others, slaps Sams on the shoulder roughly in a sign of approval for the vicious blow he dealt to Tartuk's snout before focusing on the task at hand.
He calls Tal over then and looks to Sootscale before kneeling down again and taking the lead in negotiating further with the Sootscale Tribe Chieftain as Ahto suggested earlier.
"Chief Sootscale, Tartuk will no longer threaten tribe. We will take him and he will pay for all his wrongs done to our people. Our enemies the Mites are wounded and leaderless. Warband slayed most of their great beasts and scattered their weak warriors beneath the old tree. Some remain in the old tree though and I ask for Warriors so we can crush them. For any warriors Sootscale provides, Hexa will give them healing and protection as given by Mazludeh so we may crush them."
Hexa is straight to the point in his words to Chief Sootscale. He holds up his symbol of faith and displays a fraction of his strength through casting a few of his spells. First, a healing spell on himself to demonstrate. Showing that his goddess, unlike Sharptooth, was very much real...
The healing magic brought a shiver to his scales and as some of his wounds heal he adds.
"As Chief Sootscale can see, Ahto's Warband..."
He indicates Ahto and the others before gesturing to himself as being included.
Chief Sootscale's eyes dart between Tartuk's prone form, Hexa, and the mouth of the tunnel where a couple kobolds, including Mikmek, linger.
A determined look grows on the chieftain's snout, and he sharply raises his club and smashes a gourd bauble that fell from Tartuk's belts.
The motion and sound mimic that of smashing a small skull.
The chieftain turns to his few tribesmen still watching and raises his arms in triumph and shouts to them.
Satisfied by the chieftain's declaration, Mikmek and the other kobolds scatter into the warrens, either to celebrate or also chase Tartuk's familiar.
Once they are gone, Chief Sootscale turns to Ahto and the others and says more quietly in hissing Common Taldan:
"Take him. No want ssee him. Never again."
He then addresses Hexa.
Chief Sootscale picks up the wand dropped by Tartuk and offers it to Hexa.
Hexa nods in thanks to Chief Sootscale and takes the wand as bidden, tucking it inside his wooden armor belts for sale keeping. Hexa remained kneeling before Sootscale to keep their heights from being extremely off.
"Hexa will do as asked and can trade for Sootscale tribe, get Scaleless tools. Need only ask and will tell Warband of your decision."
He stands then and looks to the others, knowing who understood the exchange and focusing on those who did not. Mainly Ahto and Sams. "Chief Sootscale askss take only Tartukss t'ings, him and his bad magic from tribes den."
When Soots
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Ahto retrieves the manacles from his belt and fastens them tightly around the shaman's wrists. He also uses a piece of thumb-thick wood and a strip on cloth to make a gag, so that he cannot speak spells when he awakens.
"Please tell the Chief that we will take this traitor and see to his execution," Ahto says to Hexa.
Tartuk is easily bound and shows no signs of waking soon.
He wears a set of wooden bracers with brass clasps, as well as a pair of surprisingly well-made boots crafted from supple leather, dyed green.
In addition to his wand, a small sickle of blackened iron hangs from one of his belt.
The many pouches and satchets hanging from his belts contain bits of food, tiny bones, about a dozen gold coins of Brevic mint.
One of the pouches, however, contains only about a palmful of dust that smells of jasmine.
A ripped and torn pack, still slung on his back, contains a book - its vellum cover bound by tin fittings, and its pages filled with cramped, uneven writing in an strange, very unfamiliar language.
Tucked among the final pages is a single, loose parchment scroll penned with a far more careful, methodical script.
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It is quite curious that he spoke in the Gnome tongue before he was knocked out," Wonky offers as the group carries the unconscious shaman out of the kobold den. "We should most definitely confiscate anything from his person that could carry a magical dweomer, like those bracers or that sickle."
"Ooooh!" Wonky exclaims as she finds the book within Tartuk's pack. "He appears to have been a bibliophile!" The gnome buries her nose in the book in an attempt to decipher its contents. Not detecting a language that she knows, she passes the book on to Aris. "You were always better at linguistics than me at school."
Wonky instead tries her hand at identifying the pouch full of jasmine-scented dust.
Hexa does as Ahto asks, relaying his words to the Chief.
Hexa looks for any other item that the little scale were willing to part with. Hoping to find something useful for the War party to use among Tartuks evil magical things and stolen treasures.
________________________
When it came time he bids the little scale fair well and good light for many days to come. He nods to the fallen he had left in the main cave. Intent on them meeting some day in the next life. When he sees Mikmek he displays his symbol of Mazludeh like an offering.
"If Mikmek wants to become Hunter, Hexa will teach him and any who want to know new strength."
Once thet were outside the caves he pulls the wand from his belts and hands it to Arisl. Kneeling as he does so, presenting this magical treasure for her to take.
Tal gives a grunting sound, tired of tight places and loud small creatures underfoot.
A number of "treasures" are heaped in the eastern alcove of the room, sitting in bowsl, pots, threadbare sacks, and open piles.
Most of it is largely junk - bits of quartz and mica, broken weapons and tools.
There are thousands of coins, however, ranging from piles of copper bits and silver links, to pouches with handfuls of gold crowns and even a dozen or so platinum dragons.
The kobolds file back into the reclaimed chamber and begin scooping up their tribe's liberated wealth.
Quite a few quick, snapping scraps erupt and die out as they argue over who gets what.
They are so concerned about claiming their share that they pay very little attention to whether Tartuk's skull, slung over Ahto's shoulder, is actually crushed.
Chief Sootscale raps upon some of his tribe's backs and rears with his club to push them aside.
For himself, he snatches up a dozen or so crossbow bolts the color of smouldering embers and a small, well-made steel shield for himself.
Aside from what the party has already taken from Tartuk, the Sootscales leave nothing else behind.
.....
Wonky examines the dust, which appears to swirl and change colors as she stares at it.
She is quite sure that it bears magical properties but cannot discern them without magical aid of her own.
Aris offers assistance, and it becomes quite clear that this is Dust of Illusion.
The user can sprinkle this dust upon a subject, envision an illusionary form, and the subject will be glamered to resemble the imagined form.
She estimates that there is enough dust in the pouch to apply this spell twice.
Having seen its use in Tartuk's hands, both academic adventurers are reasonably sure that this is a Wand of Magic Missiles.
Its strength and remaining reserve of power, though, remains to be determined.
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"Oooh! That wand might make me a bit more effective in combat. I am even now rethinking the aspects of my stonebow and how I might extricate more torque out of the bowstring by employing accessory pulleys specifically made for someone of my stature. Unfortunately, that requires some time and some construction materials. Until then, I could use that wand to guarantee my ability to support any melee that we get ourselves embroiled in without any risk of the 'friendly fire' phenomenon, or so as it is described."
Wonky takes a gander at the bracers worn by Tartuk as the group travels, attempting to discern their arcane talents, if any.
Finally, she examines the sickle to see what it is made of.
The bracers radiate a moderate aura of conjuration magic, likely a form of protection.
It is thus very simple for Wonky to surmise that they are Bracers of Armor, though possessed of only the lowest tier of power.
The sickle, on the other hand, while not enchanted is crafted from cold-forged iron.
Hexa looks at Wonky then Arisl, unsure of which Aoi'Si to give the magic stick to. Waiting until one of them took it before standing again.