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The journey from Fort Bandu to the Kaava Lands is oppressively hot, but it gets easier as the days go on and the terrain transitions from rugged foothills to open grasslands before giving way to dense jungle. Following the directions from Fort Bandu’s garrison captain, it is not difficult to find Krihirik village, which lies approximately ten miles inside the jungle’s border— and twenty feet off the ground. Narrow rope bridges connect a few dozen tree-dwellings overhead, forming a small but secure community. Bright-skinned, bulging-eyed gripplis go about their daily business nearby. Crates and sacks of trade goods litter the jungle floor, and several gripplis busily inspect a bundle of swords, throwing down their spears and nets in favor of freshly forged steel.
A blue-and-brown-skinned grippli in practical traveling clothes bounds forward and holds out his webbed hands in welcome.
“More visitors come to trade with the Krihirik? You are most welcome here, though I fear we have little to offer at this time. Or perhaps there’s some other reason you came all this way?”
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"Well it isn't the weather!" exclaims a handsome blond Chelish man, although his good looks are marred by the scowl seemingly etched upon his face. "Iago Dalamitri, a pleasure to meet you trademaster, although I had hoped this encounter would have happened under drier climes." Taking a few moments to gather his thoughts and compose himself, he continues "These are my companions and we are hoping you can aid us."
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D'lack bows to the grippli
Thanks for the welcome. I'm D'lack Firestar, blood of Aratax the Red and Pathfinder like my comrades.
We've come a long way Fort Bandu and the old place of the Dwarfs. We hope to obtain from your tribe an object, able to fight the "Golden Guardian".
after a short silence is adds
As my comrade point out, you seems to need a lot of protection by the looks of the number of weapon you have here. May be you can be of help ?
D'Lack is clearly of mwangi ascendance. He wears explorer's gear and red robes with golden stripes and dragon patterns. Strange stones turns around his head.
His round beardless face is regal and his golden eyes proof of an ancient heritage.
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"Lots of enemies around" says the grippli to Guillaume. "Weapons very helpful."
When D'lack mentions the golden guardian, the trader looks rather excited. "Come with me. Talk with Krihirik elders!"
He calls up, and several rope ladders are lowered from the tree houses. The frog-men does a large hop onto a low hanging branch and quickly climbs up himself.
Rickety rope bridges connect half a dozen grippli tree houses to one another, though to the north, many more appear overgrown and abandoned. One dwelling is larger than the others, hangs over a small pond. Inside, three gripplis with mottled gray-brown skin pass a finely crafted short sword back and forth with admiration. Gwellik announces you all to those present.
"These are Mother Bogwynne our lorekeeper, Finyik - our hunt master and Diblop - our brewmistress."
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Iago looks from the rope ladder to his companions, looking surprised and impressed. "Alright, I'll admit it: I didn't think of that. Wish we had known last week, isn't that right Las?" With that said he begins the arduous climb up.
Upon arrival inside the hut, Iago greets the creatures warmly. "Hello everyone, I am Iago Dalamitri, late of Cheliax and other less boring parts of the Inner Sea region. Pleased to meet you and let me congratulate you on your latest shortsword purchase. You certainly have an eye for quality." he says with a smile that almost borders on insincere.
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Guillaume, used to the trading style of Cheliax, holds out his hand for a handshake before pulling it back in. Uncomfortably, he makes something of a bow and says And I am Guillaume - again, barely able to pronounce his name - of Egorian, Cheliax.
Lots of enemies, you says. Any more than usual? Is just creatures of the wild, or are you being threatened?
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"“We Krihirik have suffered much at the claws of the lizardfolk in recent years, and we hear rumors that the guardian of the Bandu Hills is causing trouble and fear that it might come this way. With so few warriors left, we can appreciate a stranger’s help, even if it would not normally be our way.”
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Thank you for having us, leaders of the Krihirik. I am D'lack Firestar, blood of Aratax the Red and member of the Pathfinder Society, like Nieford Sarrowsmith.
He says while bowing to the elders.
We've heard from Nieford that you could have in your possession a weapon against the Golden Guardian. If you could give it to us or sell it, we, the Society, will be able to offer you help in the fight to come.
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Mother Bogwynne, the largest of the gripplis, slowly gets to her feet and hands the sword to the trader.
“Thank you Gwellik. You have done well in our time of need, bringing both weapons and travelers from afar to lend aid to the Krihirik.”
She pauses and looks over her guests in the meetinghouse.
“So, you seek a weapon to fight against the guardian of the Bandu Hills? Word of our tribe’s secret seems to have reached many ears of late The Krihirik have such an object, but it is a treasured possession, entrusted to us long ago—one we could not surrender lightly. However...”
She looks to Finyik, the hunt-master, whose old bones creak as he gets to his feet to speak.
“We are fewer in number with each season, for we are hemmed in by enemies on all sides. Those who would seek our remaining weapon would do well to bring us one in return, and this is the same opportunity we gave to those who came before you. Travel to Deepblood Ridge, where two beasts of the Kaava Lands reign, and bring back one or more of their eggs. These we can nurture as our own, far from the hungry talons of the lizardfolk who fear the beasts and would eat their young. Do this while surviving the dangers of our forest home, and you shall have our ratitude and our respect.”
Finyik sits down, and Diblop, by far the oldest and grayest of the
three, speaks.
“The great scaled ones are mighty creatures, the king and queen of the Kaava Lands’ many beasts. But the lizardfolk—may curses haunt their breed to the ends of the jungle— chased them off, leaving the nest vulnerable. Now is the time to strike! Those who can defy the lizardfolk and aid us now will be most fit to wield the weapon the dwarves gave us so long ago and end the vile guardian’s threat once and for all.”
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"“Your kind calls them dinosaurs. They are the mightiest creatures for miles in any direction, dangerous and untamable. The lizardfolk must have suffered great losses in chasing them off.”
He cracks a grin. "Of course, the others who also want our weapon are also on the trail. Let those who help us the most get the weapon!"
Deepblood Ravine runs from northeast to southwest in the eastern Kaava Lands. Most of the ravine’s western half is close to lizardfolk territory, and the eastern half is generally considered less dangerous.
Deepblood Ravine was once the home of a large tribe of lizardfolk, but the arrival of carnivorous dinosaurs in the ravine drove them out. Ever since, the lizardfolk have aggressively expanded their territory in
every other direction.
The lizardfolk of the Kaava Lands are generally more open than others of their kind when dealing with non-lizardfolk. Nonetheless, they are highly unpredictable, proud, and violent—a combination that has resulted in a many deadly encounters over the years. The lizardfolk of Deepblood Ravine, in particular, are aggressively pragmatic survivors. Their conquest of the Krihirik village is inevitable unless the gripplis can secure some advantage.
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Do you even know anything about nursing dinosaurs? Guillaume asks the Grippli. They don't hatch themselves, you know, you need to care care of them.
Guillaume has about as much knowledge about reptilian procreation as he has about Ulfen fashion, and truly has no clue about how to care for a dinosaur egg. I mean, do we have to sit on them?
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To Lasaraleen she replies "They are a small group of explorers Gwellik brought back from a recent trade expedition. They seemed eager to help us with our problem.”
Finyik gives the you directions to the nest and encourages you to set out as soon as possible, for the other explorers already have a head start. "An hour or so ahead of you."
Based on the Krihirik gripplis’ descriptions, a human with terrible scars on his arms leads the explorers. He carries numerous daggers, seems to know his way around the jungle, and wore a strange metal badge with a snake insignia. His colleagues sometimes referred to him by the nickname Fiveknives.
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"I say we don't waste any time and make our way there. Perhaps there is a way we could ambush the Aspis and take their prize. I mean, unless someone here has particular compunctions about playing fair." says Iago, eyeing Lasaraleen rather apprehensively as he begins marching away from the grippli elders. "Thank you for your time Elders, we'll be right back with your egg. Or eggs."
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The jungle canopy shades the understory during the day, casting the ground in dim light even at noon. Some parts of the wilderness are especially dense with vines, tree trunks, and broad-leafed plants that try to soak up what little light reaches the ground. Other stretches are relatively open thanks to the relative darkness. Thankfully, the Kaava Lands are slightly less humid than other parts of the Mwangi Expanse and not as hot as the Bandu hills!
The Kaava Lands teem with wildlife, from squawking birds and stinging insects to humongous trees that create a dense canopy above. Vines, roots, and large-leaved plants cover much of the ground. The gripplis’ directions lead northwest through the dark, virtually trackless terrain. The myriad sounds of the jungle grow louder, and the undergrowth grows thicker, as the Krihirik village vanishes into the distance.
About four miles from the Krihirik village, the terrain suddenly drops off into a deep ravine. The far side of the ravine is sixty feet away, and its craggy faces descend one hundred feet to the ravine floor below. The gap in the jungle allows a glimpse of the sky above, but the trees grow to the very edge of the ravine, and their dense canopy still blocks out much of the light. Several of the trees have massive, shaggy-barked trunks sporting countless twisting limbs. The trees’ strong roots grow deep into the earth and some even dangle over the side of the ravine.
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Iago's mutterings are somewhat subdued. "Why can't the rest of this gods-forsaken land be like this?" Arriving at the ravine though, puts all of his muttering to a stop. "Huh. Didn't think I'd run out of rope. Anyone have another fifty or so feet of rope?" he asks as he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a grappling hook and a coil of silken rope.
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At least the heat and humidity are not as bad here. That was just dreadful. I need to buy some conditioner when we get back. I will check my pack for a rope.
Lasaraleen removes her pack and starts to dig through it.
Ah here we go. 50' of silk rope. Hey are those some kind of pine tree or is it palm tree. It is definitely a tree...or type of tall bush or shrubbery.
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With 100' of rope the group is easily able to climb down the bank.
However by the time you are at the bottom you realize that each of you must have brushed up against the tree, probably while using its roots for hand holds.
Each of you has a very strong odor emanating from you, and all the either there are a lot more local insects at the bottom of the rift than at the bottom, or you are now a heck of a lot more attractive to them.
There is little you can do to remove the smell, so the group heads fragrantly onwards.
Fallen trees, rocky streams, hanging vines, and other obstacles litter the ravine floor, making travel through this area just as difficult despite the sparser foliage. After several hundred feet, the terrain gives way to a natural trail running through the middle of the ravine. In most places the trail is a mere five feet wide, though it widens to fifteen or even twenty feet in some areas. The ravine walls and the distant canopy still block out most of the natural light along the path.
Where the path narrows again, a humanoid corpse—one hand stuck in its vest as though desperately trying to reach for something—lies sprawled in the dirt next to a thick, thorny plant. Countless biting ants swarm over the corpse, making its features difficult to discern.
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Iago raises an eyebrow, his face wrinkling in disgust. "I think they already have. I think it's time to get the old bug killer out." He reaches inside his bag for an alchemist's fire and a couple flasks of oil. "Dammit, it even got inside the damn bag. Why must everything here be sticky and smell rancid? Ahem, here we are. The alchemist's fire will set them... Well, on fire, and the oil will exacerbate that. I'll throw the oil if someone wants to throw the alchemist's fire. But I suggest we do that now before they notice us. Insofar as bugs notice things."
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What a mess ! I hope we will find water to clean it up ! says D'lack who don't seem to like behing "tagged" by the strong odor.
Looking at the numerous ants, he says to his comrade.
I could call the Fire of my ancestor to begin destroying these creatures.
Just, stay behind me and prepare your alchemist's fire.
if no one says anything to stop D'lack he moves towards the ants and prepares to cast burning hands