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Miro chuckles at Gunari and Finarin's idea, picking up his own piece of fruit. He nonchalantly makes up a nonsense rhyme in his head, going more for tone and rhythm than anything else.
"Monkeys are quite pesky these days!
By day all they do is laze.
But when night falls round the fire,
their pitch gets nothing but higher.
Monkeys are pesky lil' shits!
With them around its the pits.
So lets lead them away,
and away they will stay,
when we win the battle of wits!"
The Pathfinders gather berries and fruit, both from the forest itself and their own ample supply. Under Ibid's direction, they leave a pretty decent trail of fruit and enough for the monkeys to gorge themselves. Gunari fills up several containers with beer, and throws in a few berries for good measure.
The sweet sound of the halfling's singing has the monkeys entranced. They sniff out the trail of berries and follow the curious melody (luckily not understanding the words - these monkeys only speak Vudrani) rooting out the berries from where they sit in the underbrush. When the get to the clearing the monkeys are delighted and jump around excitedly. Alas for the drunken priest, the monkeys knock over the beer in their haste to get to the much sweeter and more appealing fruit.
"Well done, indeed, my friends!" congratulates the baron when the Pathfinders return, "You are indeed men of many talents. I should apologize for my harshness. I have a particular dislike for apes and monkeys following the war with the Gorilla King when he invaded my homeland. They just remind me so much of the vicious charau-ka that still have occasion to haunt my dreams. The porters seem most pleased with the outcome, so you again have my thanks."
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"Miro, masterful work, as always," Ibid says, removing his hat and giving a slight bow to the halfling. "I don't how you manage to keep so calm and positive in every situation we've come up against, and easily talk your way out of any predicament. Well done indeed, sir."
With a laugh, the old man adds, "If I'm ever arrested and stand trial, I will be calling on you to speak in my stead. Guilty or no, I'm sure I'd walk free!"
Looking over the soiled section of dirt and leaves, the smell of beer rising to meet his nostrils, from the place the monkeys had tipped Gunari's offering. Ibid warmly pats Gunari on the shoulder, shaking his head and offering the warpriest his deepest condolences, "I'm so sorry for your loss."
Breakfast isn’t as grand as it should be, the porters apologize profusely for burning the salted pork while being distracted by the monkeys. The baron tries his best to handle it with good grace, but everyone hears him kicking something metallic when he goes back to his tent, or the loud muttering that follows, ”Let the damned dirty monkeys spoil my breakfast! I should have shot the little bastards when I first saw them…” It has perhaps been too long since the baron has camped out and he has forgotten just how little sound protection a tent offers. Despite the mess, the camp is packed up in short order and the next day of hunting begins.
”I must say, I am quite looking forward to this,” says the count, not seeming to even notice the excessive bites that a torn mosquito net - combined with the additional insects that a fresh bear skin outside one’s tent can attract - have afforded him, ”After yesterday’s success, I’m quite looking forward to getting out the rifle again and having another go!”
This seems to please the baron, who sits a little closer to the count in the howdah than he did yesterday, ”You did quite well, my boy, but don’t get too cocky. Patience and humility before the jungle at all times. Overconfidence can not only get you killed - it could lose you your prey!” No-one is quite sure if the baron got that last part the wrong way around on purpose or not.
As the aging elephant lumbers along the trail, Gunari, Ibid, Miro and Count Matsanda notice some baby snakes hatching just ahead. Not thinking too much of it, they nevertheless ready themselves just in case. Gunari has perhaps too much of a buzz going to notice the soft sound of leaves being crushed from behind them. Ibid shouts out a warning, but too late for many to react in time. An enormous cobra springs out from the brush and menaces the porters, who huddle together in fright. Ibid identifies the snake as an emperor cobra, it is venomous but he can't tell anyone much more than that. The fresh hatchlings are almost certainly its young.
The elephant sees the hatchlings and rears up in panic , shaking the mahout from the howdah and threatening to do the same for the other passengers. Amaranti, the baron and the count all manage to cling on for now as Amaranti also quickly grabs the recently released reins.
Ibid's arrow strikes true, and a spurt of dark blood gushes out of the gigantic snake. It hisses and rushes towards its attacker - much to the relief of the porters!
Meanwhile, the baby snakes harry the line of hunters, snapping at their heels with their sharp fangs. Raw instinct aids their movements.
While the baby cobras' fangs smart a bit, the venom is too weak to take hold. Ibid is a little worried, but the bites cause the elephant to shake in fear as it stomps up and down, rattling the trio in the howdah to the point where their teeth are clacking. It trumpets loudly, drowning out all other noise for a moment and giving all combatants reason to pause. When the blaring of the elephant finally stops, everyone's ears are ringing and the battle resumes.
Count Matsanda grips on for dear life yelling, "Get ahold of this elephant and stop it from throwing us off! Help!"
As the shock wears off and combat begins in earnest, Miro completes his lovely lullaby.
Unable to resist the lure of sleep, having had their meal of ranger and elephant, the baby cobras slowly coil themselves up and pass out.
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Cyrus starts at the ambush of the massive snake, or perhaps better classified as the group stumbling upon its nest.
"The Mahout! She fell!" Cyrus says with worry in his voice. A fall from that distance could be dangerous...
Wow! That is a huge snake!
"I have an idea! I've seen the merchants do this, when they aren't selling their junk... Except not with anything this big... It's all in the way they move..."
Cyrus begins to hum a common tune to snake charmers, and slowly sways his head back and forth, looking for the rhythm of the snake as it 'stands' in its theatening pose. He locks eyes with the beast, hoping connect with it on some level, imparting his hypnotic sway, and doing his best to keep his heart from racing to fast. He takes a deep breath...
In his swaying, he pulls his sickle out, in case this doesn't work...
"Don't worry about the elephant, boys, we'll get it under control!" screams the baron bravely from the extremely precarious howdah, "Best to down that huge snake before it gets a bite in at you, or the porters!"
Cyrus tries his best to hum a snake-charmer's song that he remembers from his youth, but it is drowned out by the trumpeting of the elephant. The cobra is also quite distracted by the man who stung it with his arrow and who also happens to be between it and its young.
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Ibid, seeing the enormous snake rear up and attempting to come for him, steps away from the threat without even thinking of the repercussions. His motion is little more than a mechanic reflex built into his muscle memory to retreat from such an imposing threat. As his feet step off the trail, into the overgrowth, Ibid hopes his actions won't be construed as cowardly by the Baron, but at the same time, the old man also knows he has to move further than the snake can reach with it's fangs before he can let fly a hail of arrows.
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Gunari looks at the situation... the small cobras don't seem to give him much challenge right now.
So, he moves to go toe to toe with the large snake, drawing his rapier as he moves up. He will use his Fervor ability to cast Shield of Faith as a swift action. As he gets toe to toe with the big snake he is yelling at the snake, hoping to draw its attention.
"Hey, you big dumb snake Attack me! You can't hit me, 'cause I am too powerful for you! Hey!!"
As Gunari approaches within reach of the snake and dares to move even closer, the creature lashes out at the bold warpriest.
In its rage at the fall of its young, and perhaps also confusion at the strangely waving Kelish ninja, the emperor cobra does not manage to connect with Gunari.
Seeing that the snake is distracted, Ibid seizes upon the opportunity to step backwards to find a better position to fire from.
His arrow flies true, striking the enraged cobra. The snake would love nothing more than to take a bite out of the strategically placed ranger, but it resigns itself to the reality of its own situation and draws its gaze towards the combatants in front of it - specifically the ingenious bard who made her children fall down.
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"Snake? What snake?" Amaranti manages to say just before elephant starts rearing. The Garundi almost falls out of the howdah, but manages to stay in. When he sees the mahout falling off, he tries to grab the man, but is too late. Only thing coming to his mind now is to take mahout's place. Amaranti leaps out of the howdah, grabbing the elephants head.
"Easy, great beast, easy. Snake do you no harm, you have thick skin. Together, you and I stomp on the little worm."
The elephant stops its trumpeting as the big Garundi pulls hard on its reins. With the cobras now sleeping peacefully, the elephant was already becoming less panicked. The gentle whispering in its ear comforts it - even if it doesn't understand Taldan.
Kaisharga slithers beneath the elephant (who became used to the eidolon during the previous two days) to strike out at the emperor cobra. While not venomous, the serpent creature manages quite a vicious bite on the cobra's flank. Turning away from the halfling, the cobra focuses on this new threat that is both dangerous and within range.
The cobra arcs up and lashes out at Kaisharga.
While accurate and deadly, the mother cobra does not tear as much flesh off Kaisharga as it otherwise might have. The eidolon is barely able to stave off the effects of the snake venom for now, the poison still courses through its veins.
With the elephant now calm and wheeling around to meet the emperor cobra head on, Count Matsanda digs deep to find inner reserves of bravery and pulls out his musket, firing off a very loud shot at the snake. The elephant barely reacts - it's either deaf, or very used to hunters firing guns from its back.
The bullet tears through the cobra's flesh, but still it menaces the companions. "Tremendous shot, my boy!" cries the baron, starting to enjoy himself now that the elephant isn't trying to throw him from its back, "Looks like it's still coming though, better look out fellows! If that eidolon of yours can die, Amaranti, I'd give it some antitoxin as soon as you can - that venom won't be out of its system just yet."
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Stepping back onto the trail from the woods, the elf is whistling one of Miro's limericks, lacking his breeches back up. "I do so love that Varisian wine but it ... runs through me like a Talden whore on ...."
"What ... is ... going ...on?!?"
Springing into action, the elf unslings his bow and lines up a shot at the cobra. Whispering arcane words, his bow transforms into a magical weapon.
The drunken priest tries his hardest to get the beast's attention. While a lighter blow than he is used to, Gunari's rapier causes the already battered cobra quite a bit of pain. It is clearly on its last legs (erm, so to speak).
Finarin tries to match his companion's prowess with his own rapier. Magically charged though it is, the weapon cannot connect with the surprisingly agile snake.
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"THIS IS A REALLY BIG SNAKE!!!" Cyrus yells as it is obvious his charming abilities are sorely lacking. Realizing there will be no grappling or snake wrangling going on with this monstrous beast, he does the next best thing. He disappears. Literally.
The adrenaline rush reaches its peak, and Cyrus *PoP* vanishes into thin air.
Completely unseen, Cyrus picks his way around the beast to put it directly between himself and the drunken priest, who is still desperately trying to get the snake's attention. Once there, he pops back to visibility as he slashes his sickle at the snake's flank.
for
Cyrus realizes that his guano crazy hand flailing and humming isn't getting him anywhere and the Keleshite opts for a much more devious strategy (albeit with less flavor). His sickle strikes the snake directly behind its head as it leans back in preparation for striking Gunari. The snake hisses one last time and flops to the ground, bleeding out.
To make sure the cobra is dead, the baron convinces Amaranti to get the elephant to stomp on the cobra's head. The baron then barks some orders in Vudrani to the porters. They rush to gather up the sleeping snakes and place them in several bamboo containers, "No sense letting these go to waste!" exclaims the baron, "Many Vudrans and quite a few Keleshites will pay quite a bit of money for a live hatchling. These snakes are highly prized as guardians for dungeons, temples, tombs and the like... and the younger they are, the easier they are to train."
Falroun climbs down from the howdah, more than a little rattled, "Well done, my friends, you are frankly amazing!" the count shakes the Pathfinders' hands each in turn, "We did well to use the Society rather than the local lodge for hunting companions. Truly wonderful work!"
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Fulfilling the baron's request, Amaranti guides the elephant forwards and instructs it to stomp on the cobra's head a few times. There, riding the giant beast, the Garundi feels immense surge of power. Sighing happily, the man casts a meaningful look on the eidolon.
"This you should be. I wish to ride a giant beast, and gaze the world below. Spit out the poison now, and start eat. You need to grow more!"
Just before asking Amaranti to kill the giant cobra, Baron Bomande leaps down and feeds Kaisharga his vial of antitoxin, "Here you are, brave snake, take your medicine. Oh, I know it does not taste good but better than the taste of death I assure you!"
Miro responds to Amaranti's pleading glance, and quickly sings a song to help fortify Kaisharga:
"Poison, poison, go away,
Clear the veins and do not stay."
Most pleased at the Garundi's control over the elephant as it crushes the snake, Bomande barely notices the Mahout gather herself up (mostly unharmed, except for her damaged pride) and return to the howdah, "Well done, my boy! That's how it's done on a hunt. Finish it off from the safety of an elephant's back. No need to waste more bullets, and you preserve the pelt this way!" As if responding to the baron's story, the porters begin skinning the snake, reserving the edible meat in clay pots and carefully avoiding the venom sacks near its head.
The count continues to be pleased with himself, boasting a little to the porters as they clean and reload his gun for him. Clearly, there is still much toughening up to be done, but he kept it calm during the battle and that's definitely a step in the right direction - as far as the baron is concerned. The two dominate the conversation as the party continues on into the dense jungle.
Just over two hours after the snake-meat stew for lunch, the party arrives at a burbling stream. The elephant takes a big slurp of water into its trunk, and (since it is hot), drenches itself (and its passengers) before the mahout can react, "الحيوانات القذرة!" she screams as she smacks the elephant with her riding crop, "شرب قال نحن لا يغسل!"
The baron translates for Amaranti's benefit, "'ਗੰਦਾ ਜਾਨਵਰ' ਉਸ ਨੇ 'ਪੀਓ, ਸਾਡੇ ਗਿੱਲੇ ਨਾ ਕਰਦੇ ਕਿਹਾ'.*"
The porters laugh at the exchange, and collect the cool, sweet water in earthen jugs and pass them around. The half-drowned baron walks up and down eastern bank of the stream - initially just to dry himself off, but now getting more and more excited, "Yes... yes... yes! This is definitely it," he says at last, "This is the same stream we came upon before. Yes, I'm certain. Five years ago, we followed this exact stream and that is where the tiger ambushed us. I remember telling our group that the game is always better along fresh bodies of water like this one! This is it! My friends, the hunt is upon us!"
Putting his shirt back on after wringing it out, the count's ears perk up, "Well, that's fantastic, Rudyahm. Truly fantastic. I admit, I had my doubts that we'd be able to find the same spot in this dense and oppressive jungle, but you've managed it! I'll leave you to your hunt and take the porters and the elephant to the hunting lodge we were planning to stay at tonight. We'll wait for you to bring us the beast there."
The baron frowns a little, "Not coming, my boy?"
"This is your moment, sir," replies Matsanda, "You are in very good hands and won't need me. I wish you all the best in your revenge, and have every confidence that this tiger (if it still lives) will die very soon. We'll see you at the lodge!"
The baron nods and doesn't argue any further. The boy has done well and there's no reason to drag him along against his will. Besides, there's a tiger to hunt!
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After the Count and Baron have their smaller interchange, exchanging brief goodbyes, Ibid steps to Falroun's side. "Farewell, Count Falroun Matsanda of Alkenstar," the old man says in a formal tone. "It is a shame you won't be coming with us for this final leg of the hunt. You are quite impressive with that musket. But I do understand you wanting to let Baron Bomande Rudyahm go through this last experience more or less on his own. Let us know if there is anything we can do for you before you head out."
"Or if you change your mind, and will help take down this beast," Ibid says with a smile.
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After a few moments of pleasantries with the Count, the old man takes his leave and moves along the water, paralleling the stream until reaching Cyrus. When Ibid is confident they are out of earshot of the others, he leans in close to the youth and speaks, "Do you have a death wish?" The old man stammers, clearly frustrated.
"I know you can handle yourself in a fight, I've seen it with my own eyes, but I don't know what that stunt was you tried to pull. You need to be more careful, instead of acting like you're okay throwing your life away! The fangs of that emperor cobra could pierce a stone block, like that"
"What do you think those fangs would do to you?" pausing for a moment, standing in silence, Ibid's head shakes in frustration.
"You need to start acting like your life is worth a damn," the old man's eyes stare into Cyrus', with a veritable fire burning behind his own gaze. "I know it's not your fault, but you don't know what others have sacrificed to give it to you."
After another moment, Ibid turns and walks away.
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"My Lord .... many thanks for the lavishness you have provided to my brothers and I. I wish you a safe travel back, but methinks Count One-shot will be ... just fine." With the slightest of bow, the elf whispers, "And should the need arise again, please do not .... hesitate to call upon our ... services again, or those of our ... society."
"I won't be leaving your company completely just yet," says the count, smiling, "I'll meet you back at the hunting lodge. You should be able to set out for your temple in the swamp tomorrow or the day after. I'd hate to miss out on the stories of how you killed the tiger! We'll also be sending you back to Absalom. I'm not sure yet if I'll accompany you, but we'll definitely have a feast (or two!) before we part ways for good."
The baron barely hears his son-in-law as he's already unpacking large bags and boxes from the howdah. "We'll need these later, I'll explain when we get to an appropriate spot!" he says to the Pathfinders, "Okay, please distribute these containers amongst yourselves. Now, ready? Let's go! I'll need all of your help if we are to down this vicious tiger."
With that, Bomande leads the way up the stream, waving a fond goodbye to the count. Following the stream, the wildlife is indeed thicker here. The companions startle several deer, boars and more besides as they travel upstream to where the baron remembers seeing the tiger.
Eventually, they come to a clearing.
The jungle opens up into a wide grassy clearing bisected by a shallow, burbling stream. In the center of the clearing lies the partially eaten carcass of a gaur. Its throat has been torn open, and the grass all around the dead bison is covered in dried, sticky blood.
"This is definitely where we should set up," says the baron, "The kill is fresh and the tiger will be back for it before too long, most likely at night."
Bomande surveys the area and finds several sets of tracks, "Antelope tracks, they've been through here recently. They've likely trampled over the delicate tracks left by the tiger. No matter, help me set up these machans. They're portable hunter's platforms, primarily made of webbing and they'll help us to stay safe on higher ground when the tiger arrives. Finarin, if you could unpack them neatly over there, Amaranti you spike these into the trees, Gunari please help Amaranti, there are many spikes, Miro, please climb up one of the trees and keep watch, Kaisharga can hide in the bushes while this is going on, Cyrus you seem well suited to climbing up and helping fit the webbing onto the spikes and Ibid, please make sure they are structurally sound (I think Gunari said he knows a bit about structural integrity also, get his help)." The baron barks out orders, and for perhaps the first time, the companions are starting to feel like employees more than friends. The baron is just in the zone, though, and is used to getting his way. The preparations must be just so...
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Ibid points to a location nearby to the fresh kill, indicating a location from which he would have a good view of the firing lane.
"I think I'd like to set up my firing position there," voices the old man, his arm outstretched and pointing at the nearby tree where the machan will soon to be deployed.
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Ibid helps the varisian warpriest set up the machans, trying to verify each station is structurally sound and will support their weight when it counts. Spending his time double checking the various stays and supports, in the unlikely event Gunari is intoxicated.
"I think tigers prefer beer drinkers..." Ibid tries to laugh at his terrible joke but can't muster the effort, and sighs instead.
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Cyrus scouts ahead as the party makes their way through the jungle, eventually reaching the clearing. All the while, struggling to maintain focus on the scouting task at hand, while deep in thought.
Sacrificed? for me? Must be... but... how?
When the party arrives at the clearing, Cyrus doesn't even think twice or bat an eye when the Baron begins barking out orders. After all, he has been here once, and has the limp to prove it right? He eagerly goes about his tasks, setting up the hunting site, and continually going back over the tracks the party is making, trying to remove as much evidence as possible that they are here.
During one down moment, sweat dripping from his forehead, scratches on his arms and hands from climbing the trees to ensure the webbing is hung properly, he hangs from his somewhat comfortable perch, looking down as Ibid and Gunari point at one of the support lines, debating over its location.
"C'mon Ibid... How about this. Would I be right if you drank this tankard?"
He chuckles at the friendly banter between the two, admiring the friendships that have been formed and cemented all around.
As the preparations wind down, just before the waiting begins in earnest, Cyrus finds a moment to speak with Ibid.
"You were talking about my dad, weren't you? back where we killed the snake?" He pauses for a few uncomfortable seconds. "The sacrifices? I just want you to know, I get it. I hear you, and Finarin. Even Gunari, though it seems like he encourages it a bit." Cyrus lets out a heartfelt chuckle that slowly turns awkward again in the silence.
"I've never had friends like this before. This society has showed me things I didn't think were possible. I get why you are concerned for me, and I think it's more than just the memory of something someone gave up a long time ago. My heart stopped when that snake bit Kaisharga. That thing probably could have swallowed Miro in one gulp. I can't imagine how it would feel if one of you went down. So I get why you react the way you do." He fumbles with the collar of his shirt for a moment.
"So I'm sorry. For putting myself in a situation that might make you, and the others, put yourselves in a bad situation for my reckless sake. About my dad, you know I'm not going to let it go either... The history you just hinted at. You are protective of my life the same way that you seem to be protecting my emotions, and my memory of my father. I want you to know I appreciate it, and I have come to realize that you need time to prepare yourself to tell me, as much as I need to prepare myself to hear it. But at some point, you are going to have to accept that the danger, the risk, is inevitable. Sometimes harm's way is the only way." Cyrus takes a deep breath, and sets himself confidently now, no longer awkward.
"Tonight, hopefully we will meet with the tiger we came out here for. You are going to be exactly where you need to be, firing from the relative safety of the tree. And I will be where I have to be, face to face with this nightmare. It may not be the most safe way, and I probably won't ever be the same because of it. But it is what is necessary. For me, and for all of us. I just needed to make sure you knew that I get where you are coming from. And that you know that I am ready for it."
ok, was I talking about the Tiger just now? Or the story? Or... both?
Cyrus looks over, realizing some others may have been closer to hearing range than he originally thought. He nods to Finarin, pats Ibid on the shoulder, and moves back into the camp, to sweep the area another time for traces of their presence, and sweep the perimeter of the clearing.
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When the party speaks of tactics as a group, Cyrus offers a suggestion.
"I don't want to presume where each of you would be best suited, but I think if I hide here in the nook of this tree, not to far away from the kill, I would be supremely suited for a quick strike ambush. It would be best to wait until the Baron, Ibid, and the others fire first from range, but a surprise ground assault would be the perfect complement to the attack from the perches in the trees. I could even get a shot off with this crossbow as well before I move in. Also, I think the Baron is probably the best one to initiate the attack. The report from his musket would be the signal to launch. What do you think?"
Cyrus eagerly listens to the responses and whatever debate there might be about the beginnings of the plan. The excitement of the coming battle was beginning to build, and the adrenaline was creeping into his system.
This is going to be epic...