Thoyoitu ignores the conversation while he searches for traps.
"whether or not they'd aid us is tough to guess... They are not likely to aid anyone, but if they are highly territorial... if they could be convinced the swampdwellers were trying to encroach on their territory, it might be possible to manipulate them into some action.... but I wouldn't expect them to be cooperative, nor would I want to count on success with such an endeavor."
Before the party picks a direction, Thoyoitu sees some odd patches in the ground and steps over. Looking closely, he sees that there is only a thin film of mud covering water filled holes in several spots. Reaching his hand in, gingerly, he touches downward-facing shoots of sharpened wood. Had someone walked this way without knowing about the small pits one would likely step into one fo the many holes, foot falling through the film of mud. Their leg would then be caught by the spikes, leaving the victim trapped with an inured limb.
You could navigate around the traps now that you know that they are there, or avoid this way entirely as the other side seems clear enough. BUt there may be other hazards that way.
"This way has traps. We should check other side for traps and environmental hazards as well before making a decision on which way to go."
Victor grumbles
"oh joy.traps."
The left path with the roots that Desula suggested appears clear, while the right path of muddy coast along the edge of the fetted pond is trapped
Tzardusk looks for a safe path and in the right direction while the party is paused...
Tzardusk is able to guide the party along the way, picking through the large roots and climbing over stumps. Several times there is a crack of a broken limb followed by the splash of a booted foot falling into the water sending ripples across the murky surface of the pool. The party progresses around the pool.
Still slow going, it is a good hour and a half before the party finds signs that they are making progress. Before them, at the bottom of a depression in the ground, is a ruin of broken skin-tents and the remains of a fire-pit. Blood stains the trees and floor. There are no corpses, but any bodies here would likely be eaten by the local fauna, carried off to dark dens, within a couple hours. The ground is particularly muddy and the way down to the camp looks particularly slippery, but navigable. There is no immediately apparent signs of life there now, none that you can tell from up where you stand at least.
"Shall we check out their camp? or just continue on... Whatever happened there, it looks like it was messy... Likely not much left, but there might be something to learn ... or not. What say you?"
"I say a search of these grounds is in order."
You approach the camp, climbing down the hill you are on, looking over the damaged skins. You are able to find a small cash of supplies, but it is all waterlogged, and ruined. The camp does appear to have been set for at least 10 creatures, and on the edge of the camp are a few posts hammered into the ground where captives could have been chained.
It is likely that there was a fight here but you can't tell who and what exactly was involved.
There are most certainly no traps here at all. };)
You determine that the camp was certainly inhabited by raiders, like the ones you fought off earlier today. What is odd is that the camp was likely flooded at least for or five days ago and has not been inhabited since.
Tzardusk and Kalagan know that the storm from two days ago (the one that crashed the [i]Wyer'enshaad[/b]) should have flooded any lowlands that were at risk of flooding naturally and this depresison was not drowned in that storm, but was flooded when there had been no significant rains since at least a week prior which does not fit with the signs of damage.
There are broken spears typical of the Bog-striders here as well as a discarded Dog-slicer, a goblin halberd. The skin canvases could be salvaged if you aren't squeamish about the fact that some of the skin is Man and Orc-flesh.
Looking about, Desula sees a broken tree-limb. He recalls a snippet he once read about bog-striders; that they can sprint at incredible speeds across the water. If this area was flooded during the raid, and a Bog-strider went sprinting at about 40 ft/second across the camp and rushed a creature into the trees it would make this sort of impact. With Desula and Pyre's assistance, Tzardusk is able to find tracks from the campsight, barely visible after the days and rains.
It will be getting dark within another couple hours, sooner if the foliage gets more dense, and you are all somewhat tired and worn from the fight. These tracks from the Bog Striders and their captives that you have found may be gone in the morning, especially if it rains, although they lead away form the raider's terratory.
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"Looks like the Striders are fearsome folk indeed. They smashed this raider camp with the raiders as clubs. I hope we can befriend them," says after empirically reviewing the nature of the camps recent past.
An exhausted, but not deterred, Desula thinks on what the next step should be. "I say we push on with this. But I vote for a detour to the Bog-Striders. They know this area better than us, and are clearly no friend to goblins and their ilk. Though time is of the essence with the villagers, and I doubt the striders speak the common tongue. What do you fellows think?"
"Should we find a place to camp? I think it will be getting dark soon and I dont want to be caught out with no shelter here." Pyre says looking up at the dying light.
"We could camp here. But I wouldn't think it very safe... and it IS very boggy."
"We don't want to be caught without shelter, but we also shouldn't make camp out here. I mean, maybe we could just stay up all night in the tent then head back in the morning so that we we don't get ambushed during the night? That sounds like the best idea, really."
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"We can definitely not stay here, this place feels like it could flood while we sleep. I vote we make for the strider camp. We share enemies, so we already have something to bond over." Desula says with a rye smile.
Oh, this blood feud feels just like home. I wonder if we can get accepted into their clan if we kill the skum
Victor shifts uncomfortably in the muddy ground, making squishing noises.
"I'm with desula here.No telling what filth here might attract."
"We should rest soon though, perhaps the Striders will give us a place to rest safely if we can come to an agreement with them...On the other hand, we may end up running" He chuckles, but not with any real mirth.
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Of particular interest to Victor and Desula as they can learn some of these spells and put them in your books
Desula, you are actally able to ID the spells with a simple read magic spell, my bad...
The scrolls you were given are:
Tongues (CL5)
Summon Monster III (CL5)
Blur (CL3)
Shield
Magic Weapon x2
Adhesive Spittle
Cure Light Wounds
Tzardusk, Kalagan, do you take any interest in the scrolls?
You suspect that the Summon Monster spell is a "scroll" he wrote on his own flesh. These scrolls are far less ancient than you would expect, considering how old the stories about this orc are.
How this witch could be alive is a mystery, but being part of some of the most frightening horror stories suggests that such longevity could have been be rather ill-gained. Stories told to young children go that the Mask lives in these swamps and will steal children away if they disappoint their parents, but few adults believe that part of the tale. But perhaps the witch does live!
While examining the scrolls, Tzardüsk gives their making extra scrutiny - the materials they are scribed on and the writing itself, even of the scrolls he cannot cast himself.
"I'll take the cure wounds scroll to help whoever is hurt," he says, "unless someone objects?"
Then he starts paying special attention to one particular scroll... turning it over and over in his hands, feeling the 'vellum' it is written on and examining it closely. "This be the work I think, of the Death's Mask, founder of our clan... They all are, but this one is special... Do you mind if I take it as well?"
He muses half to himself... "I thought him long dead, but the scrolls... they do not seem that old. Could he yet live? How could he do that? Strange magics perhaps...?"
He puts the two scrolls away, tucking them into his pack.
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"By all means Tzardüsk. But might I suggest, Victor copy the scroll of Cured Wounds. Another person able to heal on hand is always useful, unless I'm mistaken and Victor already has such knowledge." says as he passes the scrolls along to Tzar as they continue down the path to the strider camp.
He looks to Victor and also hands him the spittle scroll and tongues, Victor is there any other scrolls you'd like, other wise I'd like a chance to add most of the spells to my book first. I'll assist you in translating them into formula for your books afterwards. Then I can make extra scrolls and you can make extracts for later use for the entire group.
He turns back to Tzardüsk, If we find that we won't need to use that scroll from your people's death mask, would you mind if we copy that to our knowledge bank as well. I have to study more to master the spell, but we could get more out of it than a single use.
Des listens to the sounds of the forest again, "That is, if it isn't necessary for our immediate survival."
"Let's just turn back, I say. We came out looking for our people, but it's clear that they aren't in this direction."
After nearly an hour's trudge through the swamp that feels like 3, following the tracks of Bogstriders and their prisoners you finally start to see signs of life. What appears to be a well trodden trail of sorts appears before you. The orc point the way west, as east will lead out of the bogs and away form anywhere you would want to be going. You move deeper into the mire and the muck, wary of passers by and the frightening creatures of the bog.
Thoy freezes and signals for silence, standing stock still as a crocodile swims through a muddy stream that crosses your path. you wait till the beast is well away before fording the murky waters. On the other side of the water the path splits to the north and south, following the water. You head south and eventually come upon another large body of muddy water covered over by lichens and lillypads, but where there is water you see frequent ripples, signs of live teeming beneath the surface.
On the other side of the "lake" is a shanty-town of sorts. crude huts poke out of the water on high stilts and cling to the sides of trees to keep above the high-tides when the waters rise from storms. On the dirt, and walking along bridges and across the waters are strange four-legged insectoid creatures and others, humanoids that shuffle around, bound and clad in muddy rags.
This is the Bog-Strider's settlement and you have cover at the moment.
"Well, Des, this is your idea. You should go ahead first. Make nice with the natives."
Thoyoitu stealthily attempts to trail Desula from the concealment of the jungle, just in case he has to defend the mage.
Victor pads after desula, trying not to be too far behind.
Tzardüsk stays close but out of sight. Ready to fight or flee, whatever is called for.
The party approaches the stilted town, walking around the edges of the sludgy waters. As you approach some take note of your motley crew and look you all over. there are no warnings called out, or signals given, but a goodly number seem to mobilize. Several weilding spear and sheild sprint across the lake with incredible speed, running along the water. They take up positions ahead and behind you, several running along the river you followed to get here and into the wood to flank. Groups with 6 or so ready to fling shortspears, and ready slings, while a group of larger and better armed and armored striders approach.
They speak in an alien tongue, clacking and gargling at you, pointing weapons. They remain a wary distance away, standing on the rippling surface of the water weapons at the ready but not advancing on you yet.
one of the striders points into the brush and starts clacking ant pointing loudly. One of the members approaches, glaring at Tsardusk, keeping just out of range of the land-bound party with a spear ready to throw waving at the orc beaconing and threatening in one motion.
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Desula halts the groups advance as they come to the line of strider ahead of them. He looks to Tzardusk to fall in with the rest group. He bows and begins a greeting before he remembers he needs the tongue scroll. In the most nonthreatening way he can, he retrieves the tongues scrolls from Victor. While looking at the group, "Ok gentleman, remain calm and please holster any weaponry."
He turns to Strider line and uses mage hand to slowly hold the scroll in front of him to use the scroll.
When the scroll dematerializes Des begins his oration and the mental timer of the spells length.
"Hail, Striders! We approach in peace and mutual cooperation. Recently the hated Skum and Goblin tribe have attacked our people. They have taken captive of many and made off deep into the swamp."
"We, who are not masters of this land, look to you valiant and honorable warriors for assistance. May we beseech your clan leader? We offer our skills in kind for your help, whatever form it may come in.
Tzardüsk comes out of not-so-much-hiding and joins the others, trying to look as innocent and non-threatening as he can.