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"Your words are comforting." Falroun replies with a smile. "It would seem that it is not only Sarenrae's hands that are healing, but also her tongue."
It's odd. I'm a very young man with much to learn, but for no other reason than I wear the mantle of Sarenrae, many come to me for advice or comfort. That, in and of itself, has loaded me up with experience unusual in a man as young as I. The stories I've heard! You learn a lot about people if you just listen. He looks almost perplexed as he says this. Not what I was going for when I joined the order, but in a way the church is family... quite stretching.
...
The count takes the book on Vudran religion from the table and holds it out to Guy. "How about you keep this until the end of our voyage? I have a feeling you will probably make far better use of it than I would."
I accept this gift gratefully. If, as the Baron says, the tiger was not acting like a normal tiger, this volume may very well hold some key to what is really going on. Part of me hopes this to be true, and part of me is hoping for a nice peaceful hunt you know. But we live in a strange world, don't you think? Excitement and concern equally color his features.
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Having learned the hard way that one cannot just walk into the jungle, Varis makes sure to visit one of the local safari equipment shops.
Beforehand, he would ask Cleo to accompany him, as she knows life in the jungle and what is needed to make a journey through it safe.
Well a tiger hunt is propably not the definition of safe, but dying of some fever before the cat even has a chance for the kill would be even worse.
While she is trying to get her fish sold, he approaches her.
"Say, you seem to know how these things go. I was a fool in Bloodcove and my fellow adventurer's as well. We just went into the jungle without much preparation to finish our mission, and let's just say that the jungle is dangerous. Heh!" The tengu strangely stops his talk here for a moment, as if waiting for laughter at this "joke", then continues.
"I hoped you might be able to help me with the shopping. I don't trust merchants, they would sell me the whole building if able, not just what I need!"
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The isle was quite different from the eerie pillars of the Gloomspires, but feeling the air firsthand was much more pleasant here. It gave Lissanya a better feel for what she would need in the jungle. The weight would slow her down, but hopefully the pace would not be strenuous. While she gathered the essentials from the outposts store, her ears turned to the chatter of hunters and guides, listening to the wind for what news she could hear.
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Cleo turns away from her haggling. She blinks in surprise but then immediately smiles.
"Sure Varis! I'm happy to help!"
She looks over whatever it is he has (or is willing to show) and taps her chin.
"Well, we'll definetely need some traps. That's what I'm trying to secure now. Specifically a bear trap! Simple enough that anyone can use them and if any beastie springs it, it won't be going anywhere anytime soon."
"A Beast Lure could also help significantly, depending if they stock it. That way we don't have to spend days tracking down our predator."
"Otherwise a good knife always helps when you're having to survive out in the jungle for a while."
"Hopefully that helps! Or were you looking for broader advice on life out in the bush?"
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Guy is in shock. He thought wearing armor in the desert was unpleasant. This... THIS was torture. There is no way he is going to wear scale mail while trudging through a hot and steamy wall of vegetation.
Are we returning on this ship? Can I stow my armor somewhere?
He also takes a dubious look at the sandals he usually wears when his feet are not stuffed into the iron boots he's forced to hobble around in when in dangerous situations.
And I think I'll join you two on that shopping thing. I'll be needing some nice sturdy comfortable boots.
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"Oh I think I will leave the real hunting, with musk and all, for the baron and you, you seem quite capable. But I suppose a machete sounds quite helpful. And I could sure use something to cover my armor, or it will get scratches. I suppose a compass would help as well, huh?" Varis says laughing.
If Cleo feels like joining, he goes shopping with her and Guy, helping his shy companion find some good boots and lighter armor and finding some things for himself as well.
He also tries to see if there are any regional food specialities he can get a taste while they are still in town. No better way to get personal with a foreign culture than eating their food and drinking their booze.
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"It's odd. I'm a very young man with much to learn, but for no other reason than I wear the mantle of Sarenrae, many come to me for advice or comfort."
"Not that odd, I think. In a world where we are surrounded by things that often seem confusing and devoid of meaning, people tend to look to the divine and its agents for guidance, advice and hope." The count replies thoughtfully. "They long to share in the wisdom of the Dawnflower through you. And wearing the mantle of Sarenrae probably means that, young or not, you have likely learned more things than many will in their entire lives."
If, as the Baron says, the tiger was not acting like a normal tiger, this volume may very well hold some key to what is really going on. Part of me hopes this to be true, and part of me is hoping for a nice peaceful hunt you know. But we live in a strange world, don't you think?
"Indeed, we do." Count Falroun nods in agreement. "I was thinking more about your expedition to that ancient temple your Venture-Captain spoke about when I offered you the book, but who knows? I have only thought about the tiger as a particularly fierce specimen so far - do you really think there might be something unholy about the beast?
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"Don't you priestly types have a spell or some such that helps deal with the heat?" The baron wonders as Guy asks about stowing his armor, but then shrugs. "But aye, the ship will wait for us here, so just have the Captain put the armor in a trunk for you. I'll be sticking with my good old chain shirt from my army days." He pats his chest which starts to jingle slightly. "No sense in risking a heat stroke before we even get close to that blasted cat."
The shop in the Golden Mangrove Lodge is surprisingly well stocked, offering all sorts of hunting supplies and traps, including outdoor clothing and alchemicals like Beast Lure. After some haggling, the shopkeeper accepts some of Cleo's better catches in exchange for a bear trap.
There is also an assortment of weapons and ammunition, including cold iron arrows since they seem to have become the de-facto standard ammunition for adventurous types, as well as several suits of armor that offer more comfort in the jungle than Guy's scale mail - from leather armor with and without metal studs, through a chain shirt, to the shop's premium piece, a steel breastplate with Armor Vents to make wearing it bearable in the wet jungle heat, at the steep price of 300 gp.
However, the early hour you have arrived means that not many people are out and about yet to pick up interesting gossip from, keeping Lissanya from learning anything new.
As for regional food specialties, Varis finds a street vendor hawking rice and lentil balls, and signs at the tavern promise seafood curry, deep-fried chicken, and sweet rice vermicelli as a breakfast dish.
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"Don't you priestly types have a spell or some such that helps deal with the heat?" The baron wonders as Guy asks about stowing his armor, but then shrugs. "But aye, the ship will wait for us here, so just have the Captain put the armor in a trunk for you. I'll be sticking with my good old chain shirt from my army days." He pats his chest which starts to jingle slightly. "No sense in risking a heat stroke before we even get close to that blasted cat."
Weeeellll.
Guy draws out the word while he searches for what to say.
Truth be told, I look for pretty much any excuse to lose the scale mail. I feel kind of guilty doing it, with all the training they put me through and all. I coooouuld use the spell, I suppose, and I probably should, and not only because of the armor.
He pauses dramatically and says
NOW who's giving the good advice!
Guy decides to keep the armor and cast endure elements each day while in the jungle. He's STILL very uncomfortable in it, but no more than usual.
Besides Endure Elements, Guy will ready Cause Fear, Bless, and Burning Hands.
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There is also an assortment of weapons and ammunition, including cold iron arrows since they seem to have become the de-facto standard ammunition for adventurous types, as well as several suits of armor that offer more comfort in the jungle than Guy's scale mail - from leather armor with and without metal studs, through a chain shirt, to the shop's premium piece, a steel breastplate with Armor Vents to make wearing it bearable in the wet jungle heat, at the steep price of 300 gp.
Guy does wistfully eye the breastplate, but simultaneously shakes his purse and his head. A grimace sneaks its way onto his face as he considers that though far more comfortable than the scale mail, he still dislikes anything that weighs that much hanging from his skinny frame. What he REALLY wants is mithril with a comfort spell on it, but that would cost a fortune and, though not poor, his purse contains a but couple of handfuls of gold and no more. Reluctantly he passes on and informs the others
I may as well stick with the Scale Mail, at least for now.
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As Varis is almost completely unfamilliar with the food that is offered here, having only eaten fried chicken before (and the recipe was completely different apparently), he walks around the perimeter for a while not able to choose what to try.
He finally decides for the seafood curry, as it seems the most fitting dish regarding they just arrived on a ship. And having eaten lots of this kind of food the last couple months, he hopes for some with a taste unlike any before for a change. At least it smells that way!
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"You're not alone with that feeling" Bomande muses. "I've seen a few clerics who didn't like wearing armor in my time. Usually worked out okay, as long as they didn't get close to anything with fangs and claws or steel. Wasn't pretty when they did. There was that Nethys priest I once met, he had one of those fancy wands the wizards always use. Bad idea in the Mana Wastes, as he found out, but should probably work out okay around these parts."
He nods towards the green canopy outside the lodge. "In the jungle, though, you don't always notice when some critter is creeping up on you, so it's probably a good thing to have a layer of solid steel between you and whatever is trying to eat you today."
The seafood curry certainly smells interesting - spicy, but also with a tantalizing hint of fruit - and it seems to contain all sorts of mussels and prawns that make for an interesting change from the fried or cooked fish that were usually served on the ship. Perhaps the barkeep and the serving maid even know some interesting news to go along with the dish... the reputation of tavern personnel as being veritable fonts of information doesn't tend to be entirely undeserved after all, and they're likely to be among the few people that speak Common in these parts.
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"Seems that area is pretty popular lately. Still, you better be careful out there." The barkeeper tells Varis when informed that they are headed for the Urapangi Lowlands, which the waitress also calls "the monkey swamp".
"Look, I don't mean to scare you, but there's been several hunting parties out in that part of the jungle that have disappeared over the last few years." He further explains. "It's the monkeys, I tell you!" The waitress injects. "They've got mystical powers, and people that don't show them the proper respect come to bad ends."
"Who you got that from, the porters? They say a lot of things, a lot of nonsense, especially." The barkeeper shrugs her off, before turning back to Varis. "You're with Baron Rudyahm's party, aren't you? Well, I was here when he came back from his last expedition, and that sure was no monkey that got a bite out of his leg. It's a miracle he even made it - I'm surprised he's coming back here, hope he gets luckier this time around."
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He nods towards the green canopy outside the lodge. "In the jungle, though, you don't always notice when some critter is creeping up on you, so it's probably a good thing to have a layer of solid steel between you and whatever is trying to eat you today."
Guy shudders, then mutters beneath his breath, "He sure has a way with words... I swear, I almost think he hopes something jumps us. Between him and that bartender I'm not getting any sleep tonight."
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"He is here to get his leg back in a sense! Well not literaly, its long eaten by the tiger, but he will get revenge. But I shall keep my eyes open for evil monkeys AND tigers now! Thank you!" Varis says to the barkeeper and and waitress, then finishes his.
When he notices Guy's uneasiness, he pats the young man on his back reassuringly. "Don't worry friend. You have me with you! I know how to deal with monkeys, they can't be worse than the monkey demons I fought before!" and laughs deeply and loudly.
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"Oh sure, you just laugh it off." The waitress retorts at the Barkeeper's dismissal. "Just wait until some damn fool goes and disturbs the monkey temple, and stirs up something horrible there."
The Barkeeper rolls his eyes. "The elf said not to talk about the monkey-temple, remember? And the only thing to disturb there is probably dust motes and creeping vines."
"Ha, and what difference does not talking about it make when every shady fortune hunter in town's already whispering about it? Perhaps the elf should have paid his porters enough to keep their mouths shut, yes?"
"Old Deadeye's grace, Falroun, where did you find that poor creature?" You hear the Baron's sonorous voice carrying over from out on the dock nearby as you've just finished your meals. "From the looks of it, she's seen more summers than I have. And I think her limp is worse than mine as well!"
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When he notices Guy's uneasiness, he pats the young man on his back reassuringly. "Don't worry friend. You have me with you! I know how to deal with monkeys, they can't be worse than the monkey demons I fought before!" and laughs deeply and loudly.
"And if you fail, I'll see that they don't pluck your feathers for trophies." A faint smile played across pale lips as Lissanya sidled up to the conversation.
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At first Guy is convinced that Lissa just called him a chicken and goes all stiff, ready to send out a prickly rejoinder, but then figures out that he must be speaking to Varis and relaxes. Still hurt, but more by his own quickness to take offense where none was intended, he heads out the door to defend Falroun, not that he really needs defending.
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"Old Deadeye's grace, Falroun, where did you find that poor creature?" You hear the Baron's sonorous voice carrying over from out on the dock nearby as you've just finished your meals. "From the looks of it, she's seen more summers than I have. And I think her limp is worse than mine as well!"
Guy enters the scene with a great big smile on his face.
Falroun, how can I thank you enough! Just the beast I was hoping for! As you probably guessed, Baron, I am not much of a rider. Having a nice steady animal to carry me about as I wear 30 pounds of steel will make life much easier. And if it grows sick? Well, I am a cleric of Sarenrae! I'll just cure it. I'm afraid anything more spirited than this old nag would probably leave me sprawling more than riding. I can't believe Falroun found such a perfect animal for me.
Well, not a single lie there. I am a lousy rider, it might be comfortable riding than walking, right?, and if I would have asked I'm sure the Count would have helped me out! Though by the end of this I have a feeling I'll be volunteering the thing as bait.
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Hearing Lissanya's comment, Varis fluffs his feathers and stands proudly presents his chest. "Huh! I surely won't fail! But if somebody is taking my feathers, then it might just as well be a friend. You can take one back with you as a memento for dear old Varis! They are great on hats." Varis says with a laugh, poiting at his own hat.
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Both the baron and the count look at Guy with surprised expressions as he enters the scene. They are standing next to an ancient-looking elephant with deeply wrinkled skin and beady eyes, whose grey hide has developed patches of a slightly ashen tone as well. On her back, at a rather frightening height, she carries an ornate howdah with two comfortable-looking seats. "Effendi, my Nela is an extremely gentle soul. She will not be giving you the slightest hint of trouble!" the mahout holding her chain assures Bomande.
"Oh, I have no doubts that she is a gentle soul - even elephants probably mellow with age!" The baron retorts.
"Unlike some other people..." Count Falroun mumbles under his breath.
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Well, he would not have said what he said had he seen the mount first. And it was my intention to have Guy look at the mount before he spoke. But the plan is still workable. I'll change it up a bit since I doubt even Guy would fall off an elephant, even a spirited one.
A slight mod to the speech...
Falroun, how can I thank you enough! Just the beast I was hoping for! As you probably guessed, Baron, I am not much of a rider. Having a nice steady animal to carry me about as I wear 30 pounds of steel will make life much easier. And if it grows sick? Well, I am a cleric of Sarenrae! I'll just cure it. This is a kindness both to me and the animal.
Unless... Perhaps I've misspoken, and this elephant was meant to be ridden by the two of you? I would hate to come between the two of you just because I dislike trudging about in armor and enjoy the company of a fellow scholar! Perhaps I am making a bad assumption here. If so, please forgive me.
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Bomande looks from Guy to Falroun and back, considers the matter for a moment, and then nods curtly. "Yeah... why not? Falroun, you get up on that elephant with the priest, then at least I won't have to worry about anything eating you without getting by me first."
Falroun looks quite nonplussed. "But Bomande, your leg... you cannot mean to walk all the way through the jungle! At least let me..."
"Nonsense!" Bomande retorts with a dismissive handwave. "My leg was looking a lot worse the last time it carried me through this jungle. Besides, I'd never hear the end of it from Yoliri if anything were to happen to you."
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After some deliberation with Count Falroun, the mahout manages to make some extra room on the howdah's rear bench by rearranging the group's luggage, so it can actually carry another passenger. The baron makes it clear that he considers this quite unneccessary, but the count is insistent that the old man should not be walking all the way through the jungle.
Once everyone is assembled, the expedition departs the hunting lodge for the Segang Jungle... Baron Bomande takes the front seat in the howdah, while Guy and Count Falroun are lifted up into the back seats. The mahout, as is customary, sits down in front of them on the elephant's neck. The swaying of the platform feels odd at first - and the height quite intimidating - but, as promised by her mahout, old Nela proves to be a good-natured and gentle beast, and the raised position offers an excellent view of their surroundings. There is only a thin stripe of open terrain between the outer palisade of the hunting lodge and the jungle proper, where everything but a path just wide enough for the elephant to walk is overgrown with lush vegetation, strange noises seem to come from every direction at once, and the leafy roof above turns even the bright day into greenish twilight.
Aside from the mahout, the local help Count Falroun has hired consists of a half-dozen porters who carry additional luggage besides that stowed on the elephant. In Jalmeray, it is currently the height of its warmer season, and so the air is hot and sticky under the jungle canopy. Even so, while the march is physically taxing, the first day of the safari starts out relatively quiet. Game is scarce because animals are skittish this close to the hunting lodge, the baron explains, and the real trophies are to be found deeper in the jungle.
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The heat was oppressive and the march long. It made Lissanya appreciate the strength of the great beast behind her carrying so much of the expeditions load. The added weight of her pack would certainly have slowed her down. Lacking obvious tracks to study due to the animals avoidance of the lodge, she passed her time studying the tracks left by Varis and Cleo ahead of her.
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Guy is studying the book lent to him, occasionally breaking out into a "Who would have thought it!" or a Well, I'll be resurrected!"
He does want to start conversation with the count on some of the more interesting facts. Does the count seem chatty or broody? After the smack-down the Baron laid on him, Guy would not be surprised if he wants to brood for a while.
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Count Falroun is looking at your surroundings with a mix of curiosity and apprehension - he often points out the remarkable sights and vibrant colors you pass by, but is also easily startled when a parrot flies screeching overhead or an insect swarm comes buzzing past. He probably wouldn't mind some good conversation, as far as Guy can tell, although too much talk might draw the baron's ire.
Baron Bomande on the other hand seems calm and relaxed, occasionally sharing some pertinent facts about the jungle, but mostly cleaning his gun and watchfully observing the green-tinted twilight surrounding you. At times, he also just sits in his seat with his eyes closed, though his breathing suggests he is not asleep - perhaps mentally preparing himself for the confrontation with his nemesis.
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You continue your journey deeper into the heart of the jungle, and as daylight begins to wane, the expedition sets up camp in a clearing atop a low rise. The camp consists of four spacious tents, one each for Count Falroun and Baron Bomande, and two more for the pathfinders and the hired local help, grouped around a central firepit.
The night passes uneventfully. Early in the morning on the next day, however, you are awakened by a loud crash coming from Count Falroun's tent...
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Varis jumps up immediatly, not taking the time to put on his armor - this could be fatal in such a situation.
His sword drawn, he squeezes out a "Wake up! Trouble!" to warn his fellow pathfinders, but makes sure to keep the voice quiet enough to not alert what might possibly be the evil tiger!
He hastily leaves the tent and rushes towards the noise, ready for a fierce battle.
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A thrash of slender legs kicked the blankets away, chain links from her armor tearing threads from the fabric. The bird's urgency infected Lissanya and forced a choice between timeliness and defense. The finely crafted buckler lay beside the bedroll as she snatched up bow and quiver, swiftly departing the tent.
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Guy groggily lifts his head, no more than a couple of inches from the pillow and thinks I sure hope the Baron is not attempting some kind of 'training exercise' for poor Falroun, remembering when his father helped him get started for a day on the farm. He is so out of it that if there IS any trouble, he will probably miss all but the clean-up. He murmers "Its bound to be nothing" and lowers his head back onto the inviting pillow.
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Varis and Lissanya hurry towards Count Falroun's tent, reaching it shortly after Baron Bomande.
The interior of the spacious canvas tent is richly decorated with portable darkwood and silver furnishings. Torn mosquito netting hangs above the bed, and a mirror, basin, and various shaving implements lie scattered on the ground. A black leather boot lies on the floor next to the crumpled remains of a large black spider.
"What the hell happened in here?" you hear Bomande inquire as you enter the tent. Once inside, you see the count lying on the bed clutching his bare right foot in pain. "Something in my boot bit me — a spider I think!" Falroun replies in a fearful voice. "I fell back onto the bed in surprise. Sarenrae's mercy, Bomande, what if it’s poisonous? I could lose the foot! You brought some antitoxin, didn’t you? Fetch it quickly!"
Unfazed, the baron replies, "Ah, bit of luck then. The spiders of Segang aren’t dangerous, not like the scorpions. It’ll probably smart for a bit, that’s all. Next time, check your damn boots!"
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"Varis, can your claws tend wounds as well as make them?" The quip was light-hearted as Lissanya crouched by the mangled mess. A prod with her bow confirmed her suspicions. "I must concur, Baron. Large and intimidating, but not deadly." She straightened, then shot a worried glance at Bomande. "The spider, I mean."
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Count Falroun seems to calm a little after Lissanya confirms that the spider is not dangerous. "Well... if you are both certain that it is harmless..."
"Completely." Baron Bomande gives Lissanya an appreciative nod. If he sees any ambiguity with her statement, then he isn't letting it on. "Good thing we have some people here who actually know their way around a jungle. Good thing he listens to you, too. If we'd always waste good medicine on harmless spider bites..." With that, he shakes his head and goes back to his own morning preparations.
"I'm sorry for the trouble." Falroun says sheepishly as he collects his shaving implements from the floor. "I guess I may have overreacted a little."