Days before
At Wonky's request he had already decided to hand over most of the Fangberries he had gotten. Keeping enough to start a garden back at the outpost with Svetlana, though he would keep out the fang spiders...
The Days of Travel
Hexa Agrees with Wonky and the others on the bridge, he is pleased by the ford they found as they traveled to Sootscale Lands.
Hexa shares their boar meat with the Sootscales if possible and the tale of Tuskgutters fall, pointing to his wounds as evidence that the beast had been laid low. The fresh scars and puffy injuries a mark of pride for himself.
The travel over the days leads to his injuries healing and when he sees the Mite's defeated form he gives a growl of excitement. Though when he sees anyone to remove it. "Leave alone. claim and Sootscales could See..."
If he sees confused looks he tilts his head and considers for a moment before he clicks his teeth. if he sees nothing. "Or is there another reason to... Take down Ahto?"
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"Oh, I do not know about taking down the mite effigy," Wonky says, clearly torn. "On the one side, the kobolds are celebrating and proclaiming their victory and domination over the other semi-intelligent tribes in the region, and since they are our allies it also would serve that it is a celebration of our dominion as well. Taking down the effigy could be seen as a disservice to them at the least, and gross disrespect at the worst."
"On the other side of the boat, it is a somewhat uncivilised sign of the abrogation of the rights of any and all other such sentient species in this land: the mark of a tyrant, if you will. Could not the argument be made that our public execution of the bandits be seen as a similar display of such might, though in a more civilised manner? And could not one argue that the kobolds by definition are operating within the bounds of their own culture?"
Wonky pulls up her rhetorical momentum for a moment and stereotypically 'thinks' by tapping her finger on her closed lips and peering upwards into her tangled mass of green hair. She then shakes her head.
"I confess that I do not know the answer to these questions."
Based upon your knowledge of kobolds in general, and the temperament of the Sootscales in particular, you judge that they would not worry much over the fate of this morbid totem.
They would place far more value on their victory itself, as well as having regained their autonomy and pride from Tartuk.
Nevertheless, Ahto is able to take down the corpse and dispose of it properly, albeit in a way that appears natural.
.....
Traveling northward and continuing your survey of the land, you find a very rocky crag jutting out from the surrounding hills at a point about 10 miles northwest from the sycamore tree.
Sams curiously examines the outcropping, with Paval following close behind.
Peering through the overgrowth shrouding the crag's base, they discover a 5-foot wide cleft in the rockface that seems to lead into a small cave.
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"For each of us, there is a bridge too far," Ahto replies to both Hexa and Wonky's questions. "I know that many find my calling distasteful, even repugnant. I do not fault them for this. Many such critics enjoy the benefit of a world with one less murderer, rapist, or brigand - even if they do not wish to acknowledge it. Some attempt to force acknowledgement with displays such as this one, but I do not. Should the people bear witness to the execution of such despicable individuals? Yes. I believe witnessing the consequences of their foul deeds serves as a deterrent. One cannot forget the sight of seeing the spark of life disappear from someone's eyes. However, I believe there is no value or virtue in desecrating their remains. The corpse of that same murderer, rapist, or brigand is no longer a danger, and further injury to it serves no justice. Furthermore, displays such as the staked-out mite will attract vermin, which will bring disease - perhaps even plague. It is difficult to maintain order when half of your community is sweating from fever, vomiting blood, or covered in weeping sores."
....
As the party approaches the cave, Ahto moves cautiously forward, looking for signs of recent travel into or out of the cleft.
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Wonky comes to Sams on the morning before discovering the rocky crag. "Sams," the gnome begins, extending the small glass vial to the big man, "you said that you would like it if I could make you large again. You will find that this potion allows you to do so. What is more, the potion is shelf-stable, so you do not have to worry about using it today. You can keep it and use it when you need it."
"I hope you like it," she says with a shy mix of pride. "It represents the first of I hope many potions that I will brew for us. It also will likely have a tang of the fangberry to it, as that magical berry was a key ingredient in my preparatory work."
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Wonky approaches the rocky crag curiously once pointed out by Sams and Paval, intent upon the types of creatures that might live therein.
"Sprocket," Wonky calls out as she loosens her bow from her shoulders, "stay by me."
Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
Ahto's expression of words brings little response to Hexa, it was examples that the Scaleless had. Sickness, Strength, Death, and life were part of the cycle in the lands he came from. "Your calling I don't question Warcheif. If Hexa can't swim across, he doesn't cross." He gestures to the display. "They were weak, they die. The cycle continues, simple. Hexa doesn's know Plague if strong then survive, if not die. But Wonky teach of Plague yes?" The last of his words was his curiosity as to what disease and sickness were. He knew little of the things Ahto spoke of, but all were new experiences and knowledge.
He doesn't try and stop Ahto, only speak what he knew. Ahto would go his way as a Warchief would.
He looks into the roots of the Sycamore before the band leaves, looking to clear it of any of the mites leftover vermin so that it survived.
He was pleased to see that Wonky was busy, he didn't regret his choices and actively wanted to be of use to the Aoi'Si.
He even checked to see if Arisl wanted things as well, but with her studying he left her alone. Seeing that her silence as reply enough.
_____________________________________________________________________
Seeing the cleft in the rocky outcropping and Wonky moving forward Hexa follows after her, with his bow drawn and ready to fight. He calls for Chacta to Stay and Tal to follow if she can fit.
He has to hiss another warning at Chacta before the ill-mannered horse decides to listen, with a loud frumph with his lips.
He sidles up with Wonky, quietly stalking behind her as he keeps his eyes on and around the entrance to the opening...
Hexa finally convinces Chacta to stay put, alongside Sprocket and Tal.
The lizardman's cautious approach catches Wonky by surprise, and the gnome's sudden exclamation spooks a starling that was nesting just inside the cleft. The bird flies out with a squawk, and its sudden emergence elicits a squawk from Sams, as well.
Once the terrible peril has passed, the party examines the rocky opening more calmly. The narrow tunnel crawls 20 feet down to a wider cavern within.
Based on the traces of droppings within the opening, Wonky surmises that only birds, small mammals, or perhaps some lizards make their home within.
The sunlight creeps in from outside and reveals sparkling flecks embedded in the opposite wall of the cavern beyond.
Focusing her eyes to pierce the dim light within the small cavern, Aris realizes that this is in fact a vein of gold!
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"Another blessing and another responsibility," Ahto remarks to no one in particular. "The gold in this mine will be invaluable as the means of establishing a treasury. From there, we can keep accounts, purchase necessary tools and equipment, pay laborers and craftsmen, arm and outfit soldiers. It will be necessary to acquire trustworthy miners and guards to protect this site. We may need to build a barracks and establish a small garrison here."
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Once the gold vein has been discovered, Wonky pulls her eyepatch into place over her left eye and crawls into the cavern. She notices Ahto staring at her.
"Ah yes, an affectation of sorts. I always find it more comfortable to concentrate in the infrared spectrum with just a monocular gaze as opposed to both of my eyes. I will be right back!"
The gnome makes her way into the cavern to examine thoroughly the mineral lode, hoping to get a small specimen for further analysis, and to also estimate the size of the vein if possible.
Wonky takes out her strange-appearing gnome pincher as a means of securing a specimen of suit for her study.
Wonky scuttles back out after approximately a quarter of an hour of work, dusty but beaming.
The narrow confines and the worry that something other than a lizard or vole might be lairing inside leaves Wonky a tad nervous, but her overriding curiosity is rewarded.
She suspects that this vein runs rather deeply and could be transformed into a healthy mine, with the proper time and equipment.
The sample she extracts proves to be genuine gold, rather than merely pyrite, and is of good quality.
Hexa looks over the stone that Wonky returns with. Thinking for a moment before saying. "Do we hide this and leave scratches inside?"
Having been teaching Hexa she knows that his meaning of Scratches is like a mark or claim of ownership. Because lizardfolk scratches/claws were each unique and to take someones claim was to incite dispute or fighting for/to hold/ ones territory/property.
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"Oh, I do mean to take this with us so that I might be able to do some more analysis of any impurities extant within the vein once we return to the trading post," Wonky explains to Hexa, "but claiming the site as our own I would not think is necessary at the moment. There are no other competing forces in the area for this site that we are not friendly with, but for the sake of legality..."
Wonky defers, looking to Ahto.
Paval had been silent for quite a while, riding at the back of the group. Any who looked at him would have seen him simply staring off in the distance while his right hand was gently petting the horse's neck or stroking it's mane.
When the others were inspecting the gold vein a stepped of his horse and started talking, just as Wonky did, "Ahto, do you have sometime? I have a problem probably best addressed by someone with your..." Only then did he realize he was talking at the same time as Wonky, "Oh. sorry."
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"Posting a claim to the site and documenting that claim in our records gives us legal right to it. It may seem overly formal now, but in the coming years, it may become essential to know the exact date this mine fell under our jurisdiction."
Hearing Paval's inquiry, Ahto turns to him. "Certainly, Master Fagyaszt. If Mistress Prong or anyone else has not further questions concerning the mine, I would be happy to assist you."
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Paval seemed rather nervous, "Ah yes, uhmm. Let's say, hypothetically, someone made a deal with some ancestor spirit. In exchange for knowledge the spirit got to ride along, only as a passenger. But now the spirit is more and more manifesting it's own will, to the annoyance of his descendant. Would you know of a way for that descendant to get more control back? All hypothetically of course."
As he gets to the end of his question Paval is restraining his right hand, which appears to struggle, with his left.
Owing to the time spent together, traveling these lands and striving to establish order, Ahto knows that Paval is being sincere. There is no malice or mischief intended; in fact, Master Fagyaszt seems on the verge of grappling with desperation as much as with his disobedient hand.
While the inquisitor's theological knowledge does not include such matters, his research and study on the planes leaves him familiar with the basics of such a possession. Of course, Ahto notes that having it isolated to a single appendage is somewhat unusual.
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"It sounds very similar to a possession," Ahto replies. "Usually a possessed person loses control of their body to the possessing entity, at first for brief moments, and then longer and longer over time as the entity gains a stronger hold on the host. The only way to rid oneself of such an entity is to submit to an exorcism. Of course, in the case of the possession being in a single limb, removal of the limb might be an effective if extreme alternative."
At the mention of amputation Paval held his hand close to his chest, something the hand did not object to. He then decided to drop the pretense, "I don't want to get rid of him, he's my grandfather. I do want more control back as he behaves like an old lech. Last time we were at the outpost I could only just stop him from groping Svetlana."
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As Ahto and Paval have their semi-private discussion, Wonky attempts to widen her tutoring circle.
"Sams," the gnome offers, "I am teaching Hexa how to read and write, along with the finer points of the Taldane tongue - the Common tongue. Would you like to join in our discussions? You might know some slang words that I do not. It could come in quite handy for our scaled friend."
Wonky attempts to ask in a nonchalant way so as to not insult Sams, but she guesses that literacy is not Sams' strong-suit.
Aris offers a sheet of paper she carries, drawn from the party's stores back at the trading post. Using Wonky's ink and pen, Ahto drafts a quick claim notice to place within the cave mouth of the potential gold mine.
While there is little Ahto can do for Paval's out-of-hand predicament here in the wild, the inquisitor reasons that consulting his holy texts back at Oleg's may provide some illumination.
With that, and as Wonky's tutoring circle attracts a new member, the warband marches onward - both to survey the last patch of land along this stretch, and to return home to Oleg's.
On the following day's march, some of the party is lost in thought. Aris mulls the prospect of serving a more stationary role at the trading post, while Wonky focuses on adding to her maps of the region.
Paval, meanwhile, copes with the latest spasm of his right hand, which moves about as though his grandfather's spirit was trying to scold him.
Ahto, Hexa, and Sams, however, notice something unusual in a wide, bowl-shaped depression within the plains' expanse.
There is a stretch of ground - perhaps hundreds of feet in diameter - strewn with countless bones of varying age. Drawing closer, you are able to identify the remains of deer, boars, elk, bears, and even a few humans.
At the center of this macabre field is a ruddy dome of moss, grass, and twigs seemingly heaped upon the ground.
After examining the bones, Wonky is relieved that while she paid little heed to the central mound, she did not get too close to it.
She develops a hypothesis based upon certain consistent features found among the remains.
First, all of these creatures likely fell prey to some kind of solitary ambush predator.
Secondly, the lack of noticeable bite or claw marks upon the bones suggest that this predator relies on a venomous bite, rather than an exceptionally strong one, to bring down its prey.
Initially, Wonky's mind jumps to the conclusion that this was the work of a giant spider, but the lack of webbing and the openness of the terrain should discredit such a notion. However, she then recalls a particular variant species of spider that she has read about, which finally draws her attention to the mound at the center of the bones.
In the end, Wonky concludes that the party has happened upon the lair of a giant trapdoor spider.
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"I would be wary," Wonky suggests after identifying the creature's lair as a venomous spider, "for I do not have a means at present to counteract a poisoned wound. Perhaps if we were to make note of this locale and return, it would give me the time that I would need to craft an antidote back at the trading post."
She smirks.
"Or you could just be sure that you avoid being bitten."
With the area properly surveyed, and this arachnid hazard duly noted on the map, the party uses the afternoon to return to Oleg's.
To your happy surprise, the trading post is yet busier than before, as a number of wagons are parked in a half-circle camp just outside the palisade gate.
The merchants from Restov have arrived!
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"Ooooh! Merchants!" Wonky's cheerful but weary step lightens and accelerates as she sees the merchant wagons. "My tools!!!" she exclaims, breaking into a run.
Sprocket barks happily, chasing after her.
The gnome reaches the first unfortunate soul she sees at one of the merchant's wagons, a breathless and (likely) filthy mess of a gnome, green hair all askew. "Greetings and salutations, mercantile representative! I am Wonky Prong, Jr, one of the Restov explorers exploring the Stolen Lands under the benevolent eyes of Lord Surtova. A fortnight ago, or perhaps even longer, I had asked Master Oleg, the proprietor of this trading post, to send for some provisions that I required in order to continue my work here, and --- you will pardon my enthusiasm --- I am so VERY excited that you have come!!" Wonky generously pumps the extended hand of the person up and down, be they man, woman, child, or other.
"Do you have the tools that I asked for?"
Hexa leaves the spiders domain with a grimace, such a threat was destructive to the land. Also could catch hunters in its traps. He made a mental note to buy items for killing it later.
He hunts as they explore, only taking what they needed and being thankful for what they got in addition to the boar meat they had enjoyed for days.
When they arrived back at Olegs Village, the increased activity brings his head frill to full mast. He was curious and watched as the Aoi'Si moved at a run to check on things. Hexa strode in slowly, leaving the merchants for later. He stops aside the encampment and summons water to cleanse himself of the smells of the road and combat. He douses himself, Tal and parts of Chacta until satisfied that the smell of death had been driven off. Once clean he leads Chacta and the plant goods to the person who would appreciate it most.
He leads Chacta and Tal to just outside the kitchen before telling them to wait there for him. He ducks down as he enters the smallish kitchen looking for Svetlanan.
"Spare that hapless porter, Miss Wonky," Oleg says, bearing a bundle wrapped in softened leather. He sets the parcel on one of the fireside benches and beckons the eager gnome over.
He unfurls the leather to reveal a complete set of crafting tools - tongs, files, thick gloves, a whetstone and small-headed hammer, pliers, and so forth - wrought in Restov from imported Iobarian iron.
However, as Wonky excitedly examines her trove of tools, she makes an odd discovery. There are a number of extra items tucked within: thin, tapered metal picks that would serve little benefit when making and maintain weaponry. They would be better suited to far more precise mechanisms...such as locks.
Oleg offers a quick, impassive wink when it becomes clear to him that Wonky has caught on to the smuggled thieves' tools.
...
The caravan master also produces two pieces of mail: one for Paval, and one for Ahto.
The grandiose words are those of the Abadaran High Banker of Restov, but you recognize the tight handwriting as belonging to the tongueless acolyte who transcribed all of the high priest's dictated missives.
Cutting through the customaries and honorific preambles, you find that the church is very pleased with your progress in taming the wild lands. In fact, the High Banker also passes along a commendation from none other than the Archbanker in New Stetven, who is personally impressed by your solution to dealing with apprehended bandits.
The High Banker, known to be a little too interested in following the intrigues of local nobles, expresses concern that expansion into the Stolen Lands may widen the rift between Rostland and Issia; nevertheless, he reaffirms the importance of bringing civilization to the region.
A promise of future correspondence, including additional instructions, fades away into the polite morass of the stilted closing.
The letter within smells like a public house, similar to the go-between venues you and your sister have long used to secretly stay in touch.
You are well familiar with your sister's cant, using poetry and proverbs from the shared education of your youth to pass along hidden meanings.
Elena wants to join you at the outpost, and she will begin secretly making arrangements, but it may take time to manage such things without drawing unwanted attention.
...
A bevy of other tools and supplies have also been transported by the small wagon train, and the merchants are already haggling with visiting hunters, trappers, and even the indentures and Garess' guards.
Paval smiled as he received the letter. If only the caravan master knew who had written it, it would have been carried in on a velvet pillow. That it wasn't was better though.
The smile quickly faded after seeing what was written within though and Paval couldn't help but sigh at the bad news. He then folded the letter and put it away in one of his pockets. There was no point in answering right away so he wouldn't. Maybe in a week or two.
Instead he made his way over to Svetlana, "I was wondering Svetlana. Would you be able to use an extra set of hands around here? I mean, now that this place is getting set up more and more I'm thinking of asking my mother to come this way so that I can be sure she's doing well. The thing is though that she can't bare doing nothing. She is a great seamstress and I find she can do most things she puts her mind to. I do think I might wait with asking her until we have more quarters set up though."
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"Oh my, Master Oleg," Wonky says with an awe-struck voice, "I do not think that I have ever seen anything so pretty. Thank you, thank you."
The gnome shakes Master Oleg's hand up and down firmly, rolls the tool kits back up in their leather pack, and runs off to her quarters, Sprocket right on her heels, barking merrily.
Halfway through opening up her tools, Wonky realises something and races back to speak to one of the traders.
"Sir, do you happen to stock sling bullets? And, if I may be so bold, would it be within my continued good luck that you would carry the variant sling bullets known as sponge stone? I have the gold to purchase them straight away."
Wonky waits anxiously.
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Ahto gives a nod of thanks to the caravan leader, then takes the letter to his tent, breaks the seal and reads its contents. He dutifully stores the letter with his other records and documents, then retrieves a fresh sheet of stationary and begins writing his report. He starts with a self effacing note of thanks for the High Banker’s praise of the group’s collective work taming the land. He then moves on to describe the most recent events and areas explored. He also includes a request for the recruitment of skilled craftsmen such as carpenters, smiths, and stonemasons. He thanks his elder brethren for the faith they have placed in him, and assures then that he will do his best to keep up the progress. He carefully folds and seals the letter with wax - applying the signet of Abadar to the still warm paraffin. He then returns and hands the letter to the caravan leader. ”Please see the High Banker receives this upon your return,” he asks politely.
Svetlana warmly greets Hexa and Paval beside the cooking fire even as she remains busy preparing dinner not just for the trading post's usual residents but also for the numerous guests.
"If we're going to continue growing busier at this pace, I would greatly welcome the additional help, Sir Paval," she replies pleasantly despite the harrying multi-tasking before her.
The caravan master accepts Ahto's letter with a slight bow. You suspect this woman is an Abadaran herself and ascribes great reverence to bearing these correspondences.
For Wonky, one of the attending merchants displays the caravan's humble stock of weapons. They mostly include knives, daggers, bows, hatchets, and other implements that would be useful to frontiersmen.
Thankfully, they do have a couple pouches of sling bullets, even though they do not have such specialized ammunition as sponge stones.
Although a small purchase, the merchant exudes a happy confidence to make a sale.
As dinner is served, with the party and merchants invited to partake - and Oleg brusquely chasing off visiting hunters looking for a free meal - it soon becomes clear that not everyone who traveled with the caravan was a merchant or porter.
You are approached by a lean man with thinning hair and a bristly jawline. Although he looks very much like a hunter, a man used to the wilds, there is something else, something unplaceable, suggested by his bearing.
"Pardon me," he says meekly, as though unsure of his own words. "Miss Svetlana told me about all the good you've done around here, and I was hoping you might be able to help me."
He pauses, waiting for approval before continuing.
Svetlana warmly greets Hexa and Paval beside the cooking fire even as she remains busy preparing dinner not just for the trading post's usual residents but also for the numerous guests.
"If we're going to continue growing busier at this pace, I would greatly welcome the additional help, Sir Paval," she replies pleasantly despite the harrying multi-tasking before her.
Hexa nods at her words, much was needed to be done. A village would grow weak if only a few things get done. He brings Chacta, still freshly cleaned and pulls the saddlebags off nodding to Svetlana. "Warparty brings gifts for Svetlana." He pulls out the radishes, the radish seed pods and the fangberry's they had accumulated for her.
He also produces the skull and the hide of Tuskgutter. "Vekkel still in the village? Tuskgutter is no more. Warparty claim's bounty..."
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"Hello, sir!" Wonky pipes up brightly. "I am Wonky Prong, Jr. I do not know if the kindness that you attribute to us is completely earned as of yet. We are mere servants doing the will of the regent-king, but it is nice to meet new people. What is your name?"
Wonky takes a break from passing dishes to and from Sams to focus on the timid-appearing man.
The moon radishes alone would delight Svetlana, but she is positively astonished by the additional gifts of the seed pods and berries.
"It has been quite some time since I've been able to fully exercise my green thumb," she says, somewhat excitedly, "But cultivating my own moon radishes will certainly be an engaging challenge. Especially since we no longer have to worry about spending too much time outside the post's walls. None of our visitors have mentioned even spotting any bandits north of the Shrike in almost two weeks now."
.....
The newcomer accepts a seat alongside the party, and he seems to both breath and speak more easily now that he has been so welcomed.
"My name is Jhod. Jhod Kavken. I am a priest of Erastil. I've come because there is an old temple dedicated to Erastil in this region, fallen into ruin and guarded by a ferocious beast. If we could find this temple, lay the guardian beast to rest, and reconsecrate the grounds, I'm sure it would go a long way towards civilizing these Stolen Lands."
Could he be persuaded to be more candid?
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"Well met. I am Ahto Ulrych of the Church of Abadar. A temple to Erastil would be welcome in these lands, as a adherents of his faith are known for their respect for law. I must ask, though, Master Kavken, what is the part of the story you are withholding. Everything in your manner and tone suggests you are reluctant to disclose certain relevant details of your proposition. I am afraid that we cannot offer our assistance without first knowing all the risks."
Paval nodded at Svetlana, "Good, I'll write her as we figure out the housing. And you can drop the "sir" Svetlana, we're all friends here."
----
As the others talked to the cleric Paval simply stood back. He never got along with the priest of Erastil back home, that small minded fool was unbearable. So he left the talking to those less prejudiced.
Kavken shrinks back slightly at being prompted, but then he recomposes himself with a sigh.
"You are quite right. I must be forthcoming if you are expected to trust and aid me. I learned of this lost temple through a vision sent to me in dreams, surely by Erastil himself to guide me to redemption.
"You see, my position within the church is very tenuous, to say the least. I hail from a parish in Galt, but I was cast out after, in my zealousness, I made a terrible mistake that created a tragic scandal. Only an undeserved providence protected me from outright excommunication.
"It may seem like folly to trust in the dream visions of a fallen priest, but I trust, wholeheartedly, that this temple is out there. Restoring it will be the start of my penance, but I cannot hope to face the guardian alone.
"In my vision, I saw that an angry bear lairs within the temple, but there was something not right about the creature. It seemed unnaturally crazed, spurred to great strength and violence by some taint."