always ready for a story about the crypt,
Elathras stops mucking the stall he is in, stepping out he plants the pitchfork into a bail of hay and reaching out to shake her hand he stops, quickly looking at it, then wiping his hand off on his leather breaches he looks at it again satisfied that it is clean enough for a social gathering in a barn and shaking her hand, smiling, he introduces himself
"I am Elathras, my tribe is familiar with horse whispers, truly a gift, will you tell me your story, If you whisper I will just listen more attentively"
with that he pulls a couple of hay bales over and offers her a seat.
wow, the crypts is a greater challenge than I ever thought possible
on the edge of his hay bale taking in every word, when she pauses Elathras waits for a moment to let her gather her thoughts and then asks
"Your party was on the doorstep of a goblin kingdom, could you continue? If it is not too painful for your voice or your memories"
“There is an entire goblin kingdom hidden in the depths under that dungeon, and of course we managed to stumble on it.” The whisper falls back into its previous cadence, and you lean closer again, so as not to miss anything. “We saw only a small part of their main city, but that was more than enough for me! At first things went fairly well. We let Candara do the talking, and she convinced the goblins we met that we had come from the Underdark and were looking to replenish our supplies.
“I think our time there would have gone better had we not had a paladin with us. The rest of us – even Brother Arno – could have turned a blind eye to the slavery; it was only some kobolds, and who cares if one type of menace decides to enslave another? But Lord Pirulen was already upset by it when he discovered that there were other humans in the city: prisoners who were to be used as sacrifices. That was beyond what he could stand, and he insisted that we immediately attack to free them.” Fenice’s whisper becomes intense again, and she leans forward on her stool, gesturing for emphasis. “We were more than ready to leave by that time, but didn’t all share his passion for this crusade. When some of us were insufficiently zealous, he removed the decision by freeing three prisoners and then joining the group with the news that two patrols of goblins were behind him and we needed to hurry!” Now she stands, and begins to pace back and forth as her whispered story continues.
“We had already decided to go back the way we came and were able make it back to where Candara had used her magic on the wall. The goblins stopped their pursuit as we got toward the end of the corridor, which we didn’t understand at all. They definitely seemed afraid of something having to do with the great gate. We found we could open the gate from the goblin side, though it took several of us to do it, and then of course we could not secure it from the other side. Candara put some type of magic on it, but she was exhausted by that time and had few spells left.
“It was definitely time to rest, so we picked the best place we could and set out guards. I’m afraid we were overconfident, though, and we definitely underestimated the goblins. Somehow a small group managed to surprise our guards on the city side, and get to where most of us were sleeping without raising an alarm. In that city they have a saying, ‘A running goblin can slit a thousand throats in a single night.’ Happily for me that running goblin was in too much of a hurry and didn’t stop to check his work.” Fenice loosens the slide holding her neckscarf and folds it away, revealing an ugly red scar across the front of her neck. “Candara and I survived, though just barely. Gamira was on watch with Turbayne (one of the former prisoners) in the direction of the dungeon rather than the city, and when she finally heard something they came in the nick of time.”
Sliding the fastener back up, Fenice settles the scarf around her neck again and her voice becomes grave. “We lost both Brother Arno of Larchmont and Lord Pirulen to those little scum, as well as two of the prisoners we had rescued, and Rosson Gildersleeve, a gnome who had valiantly acted as our scout through some tight spots. Gamira used up the last of our healing potions on Candara. She tried reading a spell from a scroll to heal me, but botched it somehow and it didn’t help. I wasn’t actually dying by that time – Gamira was surprisingly useful with linen bandages and unguents – but I would really have preferred not to be reminded of that episode for the rest of my life.
“With only three of us left of the eight who started out together, even with the addition of Turbayne all we could do was move ahead with great caution and hope blindly that we could find a way out of the dungeon before we were all killed. We made it back to the area with the randomly teleporting rooms and stumbled across something that saved us all – a place that teleported us right out of the dungeon.”
Finally Fenice pauses in her agitated pacing. “Come on!” she says in a harsh whisper. “I need to get outside into the sun, too. Let’s see how Igor’s doing with those horses.”
Outside, Igor seems to be enjoying himself with the animals. He speaks quietly to a tall gray horse while he brushes its coat, and a glossy brown seems to have already gotten the same treatment. The remaining horse, a smaller one with a white star on its black face, stays somewhat aloof from the other group. Fenice gives a sprightly whistle – the loudest sound you have heard her make – and the black horse trots over to the fence. The slender woman absently pets it while she continues her quiet speech.
“The most important thing when going into Rappan Athuk is for each member of the group to have as many magic items as possible. There are so many different areas down there, so many different side branches, that you never know what you’re going to come up against next. It’s impossible to plan. The best idea is just to have magic items that will cover as many contingencies as possible, and then you’ll always have something you can use.
“Of course there’s your basic armor and weapons; considering how dangerous the inhabitants are, and how difficult many of them are to defeat, there should not even be a question about needing those. It’s the specialized items, though, that can really make or break a group. For instance, you should have items that provide light – not just enough light for humans to see, but ones that use light as a weapon. Those are the most effective against many different types of undead creatures, which is mostly what is in that evil place. It‘s also good to have something that produces fire; the more ‘normal’ creatures down there are used to dark damp places and are frightened of fire. A nice fireball, or wall of fire, or even spurting fire from your fingertips left and right, will earn their respect and convince them to leave you alone.”
You notice that Fenice has started to rub the stump of her right arm, and you suspect she is unaware of her action. “Fire resistance is also critical. This is the lair of demons, and they have more than one location that opens into the depths of Hell itself. Of course, standard fire resistance barely helps against hellfire; you need something a bit stronger and you need it to be ongoing, not something that’s going to wear off every few minutes. Another thing that’s very useful is an item that allows you to fly. There are some deep cracks that are difficult to cross, high places to climb, and so on. We also made good use of water-breathing magic, but that was because of the specific places Candara, Cerigo, and Lord Pirulen wanted to explore.”
The black horse butts Fenice’s shoulder, and she reaches up to smooth its nose as she continues. “Something else you might not expect is that you need to be able to crawl. Not every denizen of the great dungeon is as tall as you or I; though some are considerably larger, there are also smaller ones. It can be a great advantage to be able to move through the tunnels you find; it can lead to some goodly treasure, and it is also an outstanding way to get away from some of those larger creatures. Magical bags and backpacks gave us places to stow away armor or other bulky things when we needed to crawl, or swim; I can’t imagine going some of the places we went with our fighters having to drag their armor along behind them.” She looks away from you to the stablehand. “Vort, could you get my saddle and bags, please?”
“The last thing you need to remember, of course, is that no matter how prepared you are, you are still not prepared enough.” Fenice climbs the rail of the fence and jumps down next to the horse. Vort appears with her gear, which she takes with a nod and then saddles her mount. You notice that even without a hand, she is able to use her right arm to hold or brace things, while her left hand of course does the finer tasks. Finally Vort passes Fenice a set of filled saddlebags. She looks directly at you, her face serious and her whispery voice harsh. “Whatever you think you will be able to do in Rappan Athuk, something is going to be there to deny you complete success. You’ll end up with amazing stories to tell, but only at the expense of friends left behind in the making of those tales. Maybe before you go, you should ask yourself if a venture into that dungeon of graves is worth the rest of your life.”
She puts her left foot into the stirrup, braces herself with her right elbow, and smoothly swings her leg over while Vort opens the gate of the paddock for her. She gives another whistle and Igor looks up. “Good-bye, Fenice!” he calls, waving to her vigorously. Her left hand busy with the reins, Fenice lifts her right arm in acknowledgement and then turns her horse away, through the gate of the settlement and out. Vort drops his own hand and closes the gate, then gives you a brief nod and walks back into the stable.
Dolgrin wanders to the smithy, drawn by the sound of hammers and the smell of quenching oils.
Ah but it seems a fine spirit is upon this place. I am being Dolgrin Brightlaughter today, and right pleased to meet you. What can you tell me of wells, and local nuisances that need lancing?
It’s easy to tell that the next building is the smithy; the clangor of metal on metal told you even before you could see the forge through the open double door. The smith is a tall man, with the impressive arms and shoulders one would expect of a man in his profession. His sleeveless tunic and pants are leather; his head is shaved clean and glistens with sweat, making his skin look like polished mahogany. The heavy hammer in his hand falls in a ringing rhythm on a bar of iron, forming it into a horseshoe. As quickly as he finishes one and cools it in a bucket of water, his tongs take up another glowing bar and he starts work on the next shoe.
Behind him you finally notice a young boy pumping away at the bellows. He seems rather slight, but you realize the smith’s stature probably makes him look small in comparison. Taking that into consideration, you estimate the youth is probably 12 or 13 years of age. Just then the smith dips a final shoe into the water with a flourish and growls, “Take a rest, boy, and be sure to drink water. We’ll be back at it in a few minutes.”
The smith leads the way to the water barrel near the door where he pours a dipper of water over his bald pate before drinking, and then wipes his sweating face and head with a handy cloth rag. The boy drinks first, splashes a little water on his own face and steps out into the sun. He is dressed similarly to the smith, but has golden brown hair pulled back in a stubby braid. The lad stretches thoroughly, then slumps against the building in a shady spot.
The smith notices you standing there and approaches. “Hello!” he rumbles. “Need a horse shod? Not right now? Just getting to know us, eh? I’m Big Morgan.” The hand he offers you seems about the size of a dinner plate but his grip is moderate. “If you need plain smithing, I’m your man: shoe a horse, fix up the little metal bits on their gear, repair a wagon, mend the iron rims on its wheels. Even tools I can do. I’m no good at the fancy stuff, swords or things. But Verestin here may be, when he grows; isn’t that right, boy?”
The boy looks up at that, and steps up by the smith. “This is Verestin Pye,” Morgan says. “His folks live at the trading post but he doesn’t much take after his dad and so he’s apprenticed over here, to myself and also to the guards. Keeps him out of trouble, eh?”
Looking at the smith the lean dwarf smiles."But making arrows, you can do? I need soonish another quiver or two!"
You see Corbel Grambien, the guard, heading for his post at the gate. He’s added a helmet and leather armor to his uniform, has strapped on his sword, and carries a bow and quiver. Watching him walk to his post, you get a good look at the inside of the gate. It is wide, with two great doors covering the entire neck of the peninsula. At the two points where the gates would meet the walls, wooden watchtowers stand. They are tall enough that the guards manning them have an excellent view of the entire countryside and parts of both the rivers bordering Zelkor’s Ferry. From the south tower the old wall extends less than twenty feet before dwindling down to nothing. On the north the wall stays higher farther, though it too diminishes toward the east as you noticed earlier.
From here you can’t see the line of kobold skulls that got your attention as you first approached the gate. However, you can see the broad, heavy beams used to secure the gate and the ones almost as large closing the postern gate through which you entered. Corbel climbs into the south tower and you recognize the iron gray hair of Captain Skorma in the north tower. The captain evidently takes shifts along with his men, which fits the impression you had of him from your earlier meeting. He seems to take the security of Zelkor’s Ferry quite seriously, which is all to the good now that you’re on the inside of the gates!
The two guards going off duty pass by you as they leave their duty station. “Hey there,” one calls. “We’re going to the inn to get something to drink. Corbel thought you might want to talk to us; join us if you like.” Having a drink does sound good, as does the idea of hearing another helpful story or two, so you follow along.
Virgil nods, falling in stride with them both. "First round on me? The looser your tongues, the better. I want to know all you do about Rappan Athuk. Even the ridiculous."
You have to blink a few times when you enter the inn; it seems a little dim after the bright sun. You see Pappy snoring in his corner and a woman sitting by herself on the other side of the room, while Tallie is behind the bar serving the off-duty guards. You get something to drink as well and join the men at a long table near the windows.
“Harlemen Jesco,” the first man begins, “and over there is Serlio Mazam.” Mazam has the bronzed, weathered skin of a person who comes from the south, in or near the great desert. Jesco appears to be from somewhere around here, with the brown hair and brown eyes common in these parts. “We’re both former caravan guards, traveled around the area, and now working here where it’s relatively safe and the ale is good.”
“Mazam and I both hired on as part of an expedition that was planning to explore Rappan Athuk. We had known each other a bit from the caravans along the Coast Road, but had never worked together. Our employers looked down on us and gave us all the worst jobs around the camp, but that was what we had expected. They were paying us enough to make it worth our while, including a good part of the money up front. Also they had supplied us with some magical items that we never would have been able to get otherwise. I was given a magical ring and a longsword.”
Mazam speaks up at that point. “I got a magic helmet and a longspear. I knew what that meant, though: I’d be expected to be up in front with the long weapon when fighting some of the larger beasts or monsters we would no doubt meet. It’s the sort of gift that comes with a dangerous obligation.”
“We did well enough in the wilderness,” Jesco continues. “The group we were with was experienced and worked well as a team. We fought one group of trolls, and were attacked by some gargoyles guarding the entrance when we arrived at the great dungeon. That took magical healing for everyone to recover.
“The entire complex is built in a sunken area, or sank after it was constructed, so it has no long view of the surrounding area. Mazam and I were on watch at different points on the edge of the bowl while the others checked out the various buildings. The forest around there was eerie – very quiet. Our group called us in when they were ready to open the main doors.
“The doors were locked, so the wizard used a spell to open them. As they slowly swung in, a gust of air came pouring out reeking of death. We had expected some stale or smelly air inside the dungeon, but this was rank enough it had us all gagging. When the doors opened far enough to let some light inside we could see why the stink: on the floor just inside were eight slimy spots that had once been bodies. A couple were quite near the door and I got a good look. It seemed like the bodies had been dissolved or liquefied, and when that happened the armor just crumpled in on itself.”
“That right there was enough for me!” Mazam exclaims.
“That’s right,” agrees Jesco. “The folks in there looked experienced, or at least well-equipped. I saw suits of full plate armor on two of those bodies, but the suction of the bodies liquefying had crumpled them in just like paper. I also know they had at least some magical items, because next to one long robe drenched with slime was lying a slender wooden staff, cracked all the way down its length, with a shattered blue gem at the top. Whatever magic overcame that group was powerful.”
“I said, ‘That’s it, I’m not going in there!’ The people who hired us weren’t happy about it at all,” says Mazam. “I told them they weren’t paying me enough to go in a place where bunches of people die in the very first room.”
“We gave them back their magical weapons and things,” Jesco explains, “rather abruptly, in fact. I figured I’d done enough work on the trek out from the city to earn the advance I’d been given, but I didn’t want to be accused of stealing the magical items. Maybe someone else would need them later. Then we just left. The two of us headed back for the Coast Road. It wasn’t long before we were able to both hire on with a caravan; none of the masters seemed to hold it against us that we hadn’t wanted to head down into that evil place. A couple even seemed to think we showed wise judgment to avoid it altogether.”
“I’d rather face brigands any day – or every day,” Mazam adds, “than set foot into that cursed dungeon. Even the vicious ogres and the immense spiders don’t frighten me as much as just peering into the stinking darkness that day. Being hired by Bristleback here has given us a comfortable base. We don’t travel much, and fight only once in a while. If Bristleback would drop his obsession about finding some ‘red bear,’ life would be easy.”
“We keep hearing people say, ‘Don’t go down the well’ when they talk about that dungeon,” Jesco says. “Mazam and I don’t know what well they mean, but we think it might be preferable to getting killed just inside the front door.”
At that moment a boy appears at the door of the inn. “Sirs, the Captain is looking for you,” he calls.
“Never a dull moment,” Jesco remarks wryly. He and Mazam drain their mugs before they rise, give you a nod, and stride away.
Looking at the smith the lean dwarf smiles."But making arrows, you can do? I need soonish another quiver or two!"
"See Rasmus Pye and the trading post for such. I know he sells arrows, some 'slightly' used."
A pale-faced Virgil sits for a moment, mulling over the words of the guards before jumping into action. "Wait!" He yells, slamming a handful of copper onto the counter as he jogs to catch up. "What was that about a 'Red Bear'? You've given me second thoughts about the dungeon, but I think I can manage a little hunting. Especially if it pays well."
I believe she would be insulted if I offered assistance
Elathras watches her tighten her girth and mount up, he waves good by to Fenice, calling out as she leaves
"Thanks for the story, I hope we meet again"
I really hope I survive the crypt
He stretches and yawns, then turning, nodding back to Vort he follows the groom back into the barn to finish all the evening chores. around dusk, when the two hired hands go into the inn to eat Elathras follows them; taking the time to wash his hands and face, dusting himself off and gathering his gear. He accepts whatever food the hired help eats, and joins the other travelers in the dinning room. Sitting with the other travelers he asks.
"Did anyone find out about any work so we can earn more to buy supplies, it would seem we are woefully prepared for the caves, let alone the crypt."
"And just to get one thing crystal clear. This dwarf won´t go near boats, only in emergency!"
After hearing the story the dwarf shrugs. "Could have been a setup to make the unwary run away. If, than it worked!"
A pale-faced Virgil sits for a moment, mulling over the words of the guards before jumping into action. "Wait!" He yells, slamming a handful of copper onto the counter as he jogs to catch up. "What was that about a 'Red Bear'? You've given me second thoughts about the dungeon, but I think I can manage a little hunting. Especially if it pays well."
Well, you just picked up another rumor:
Bristleback buys bearskins and panther skins for 50 gp, and wolf pelts for 20 each. If you bring back a whole bear, the meat’s worth 10 gp to you as well. Wild boars aren’t worth anything to you, though.
"Don't worry, Pye. We'll be here quite often, I'd wager. I mean, assuming things go well, that is. If you know what I mean. I'm off to talk to this Kalgor, and see what advice he can give us."
Elathras looks up from his pea soup and listens to Virgil speak
second thoughts about the crypt? how would he gain honor by avoiding the crypt. A red bear, I would like to see such a thing
setting his spoon down he speaks up, excited about the prospect of hunting instead of mucking stall and address' Virgil
"Hunting would be acceptable, I can help with this, may I accompany you tomorrow, or do you prefer hunting at night as well? Are we going now? I can get my Guisarme to hold the beast at bay and javelins to finish it at a distance"
His smile widens.
Apprenticed to a Mastersmith and the Town Guards, you have adventurer written all over you. Best be finding a lovely lass to keep you in line soon Verestin, before the road calls.
He nods his head as the smith continues.
I'll ask you of the local hazards later then, perhaps at the inn this evening? For now, trade talk, I assume you sell Hammers and Shovels and the like? Assuming we end up doing any caving, knowing where to buy more pitons and tack would be helpful. Why, I have heard such rumors.
He stops, laying his finger alongside his slightly red nose and looking at the boy.
But later, truly, is the best time to be talking of such things, when there is less fire in the air and the throats are not so dry. It was very nice to meet you, master smith, and you as well, young smith in training. Be you both well, hale, and hearty.
Dolgrin marches out, perhaps a bit more attentive to his posture than before, for the lad's sake.
He makes his way to the barracks next, knocking politely.
Good afternoon, I am being Dolgrin Brightlaughter, and would appreciate any information on the local hazards in need of smiting.
"I can make shovels and the like, Just let me know what you will be needin'! "
Elathras looks up from his pea soup and listens to Virgil speak
second thoughts about the crypt? how would he gain honor by avoiding the crypt. A red bear, I would like to see such a thing
setting his spoon down he speaks up, excited about the prospect of hunting instead of mucking stall and address' Virgil
"Hunting would be acceptable, I can help with this, may I accompany you tomorrow, or do you prefer hunting at night as well? Are we going now? I can get my Guisarme to hold the beast at bay and javelins to finish it at a distance"
Virgil, at the threshold of the inn, turns round as Elathras addresses him. "What? Who... Aagh. So many questions. Hunting? I suppose. I was going to bring it up with that Dwarf Kaztor, you'd be welcome to join us..."
Virgil looks a little frazzled, like he isn't used to this much talking.
hunting is an acceptable way to earns honor and money, A red bear, I would like to hunt one of those, I will keep a tooth as a trophy
Elathras smiles at the rangers response, he nods his head in agreement and responds,
"Let me know when, I will be ready at a moments notice"
He then goes back to eating his pea soup. When the soup is gone he cleans the bowl out with a piece of crusty bread and washes it down with some rain water, finally licking the last of the soup off his fingertips. He lets out a satisfying belch and then settles in near the hearth to watch people and listen to stories.
All of this story telling and talk of hunting wakes up Pappy. "Let me tell you young fellas, as dangerous as Rappan Athuk and the Mouth of Doom are there are places in the wilderness that are just as deadly and not just from those bandits you've been asking about. Although not all of the Bandits are human. In fact the biggest 'bandit' out there is a dragon named Aragnak!" He takes a sip of beer, "Aragnak takes whatever he wants and adds it to his hoard. No one seems to know where."
Virgil looks over at Pappy and sighs. "Wonderful. Death everywhere. Maybe there's some fabled plate that needs washing, or some legendary arrow that needs Fletching. That must be safe."
"I am sure they can alway use a few more guards at the gate." retorts Pappy. "You kin earn your passage back to Bard's Gate in a few months!"
"Some just are not cut out for the life of adventuring I guess." Says Bristleback. "Now take the good paladin over here. All he needs is a good riding dog from Pye's and he is good to go! I believe the two hearty dwarves are stout at heart also."
I will be letting you know, presently. First I think we have a scouting expedition, and possibly a look at the local jobs board. Time to talk with your watchman, yes? Or are they still abed, awaiting their nightly routines?
Virgil turns to Bristleback, eyes flashing. "Not cut out?" Virgil chuckles, twirling a mustache. "Valuing life and fearing death are different things, but it can be easy to forget. Thank you. Now, what's this I hear about you wanting a 'Red Bear'?"
In walks a bestial looking Half-Orc. He either doesn't notice, or care, he's out of place. He is shorter and even squatter than most Orcs. He looks more Orc than Human with pronounced tusks, pointed ears and green skin. His beady eyes have peculiar irises streaked with red, like smoldering coals
He has a spear he clearly uses as a walking stick. He has a sheathed falchion over his shoulder, and a dagger at his belt. A sling also hangs from the belt of his impressive waistline, along with pouches bulging with sling bullets. He wears no armour.
"Hello. My name is Wdrozgrúk ('oo-drohz-GRUK'). That Big Morgan fellow has a lovely forge. I could sit at stare at its flames for an age. Reminds me of the one I used to work at. Only better. I heard there's this place called Rappan Athuk. Dangerous place. Interesting too. Is that where you lot are going? Mind if I join you? My sword skills aren't the best, mind."
"I am shy and retiring by nature, but I can speak Orc, Goblin, and Gnoll. And I can cast a few spells too. What say you?"
That soup smells nummers!
It’s like the old men and young men in my tribe thought Elathras, sitting near the fire, enjoying the banter between Birgil, Bristleback, Dogrim and Pappy, as the door opens Elathras seeing the green orcish face instinctively reaches for his short sword and begins to stand. Are we under attack? I thought the town was reasonably safe. As the brute begins to introduce himself, Elathras looks around hoping no one noticed his abrupt movement and quickly regains his seat. As the Half-Orc invites himself and then to go to Rappan Athuk with them, Elathras scrutinizes his appearance and then his demeanor, smiling slightly. Well I guess if he’s willing to come along, I’m willing to let him. Should we tell him we weren’t planning on talking to any of those, nah he’ll figure it out eventually.
Kaz heads back to join up with the rest of the group, wondering what they had found, or at least, heard.
Following shortly behind the orc, a hard looking man with a neatly trimmed beard and better than average clothing walks in, a book hanging from his belt. He sits down and surveys the room, having heard of the region's unusual features and adventure. He notices Kaztor and walks over to him.
"I wish to offer my... services. It is unwise to travel this region alone." He stares at the dwarf, waiting for a reply, apparently assuming he is the leader.
rumor: A rich gold mine can be found if one can find a cavern with a man-made river channel and defeat the monsters there.
rumor: Don’t go down the well!
guess there is no reason to be inhospitable
Elathras stands up from his chair, this time not reaching for his shortsword and walks up to the new arrivals and offers his hand, first to the green half-orc and then to the pompous looking human shaking each of their hands and greeting them
"I am Elathras, I come from the people of the great northern plain. I hope your desire to test your metal in the crypts proves that you were not crafted in vain, welcome. We were just discussing the opportunity to hunt a "red bear" apparently we are severely under equipped and need to purchase more gear and this "red bear" is worth much gold."
Elathras turns and nods to Virgil as he returns to his chair by the hearth
"Virgil was getting the particulars from a local,"
Kaz heads back to where the group is still hanging out. "I'm too poor to afford a cord of rope, but I was advised we need a bunch of it before we head underground. Perhaps trying to get that bear would be a good idea," he chirps in, as he hears just the tail end of the conversation.
Virgil nods, both to greet the new arrivals and to communicate his agreement in one efficient movement. "Bear hunting. Great time, promise. Anyone against the idea?"
Irenicus shrugs, "The coin would help with the purchase of supplies, and this sort of spelunking will require that."
"Has anyone ever actually hunted a bear before? I can't say that I have. I'd think arrows would be the trick, as I don't want a bear ripping my face off from up close."
We hunt bear in our tribe
Elathras, siitng near the fire, about to doze off from his hard day working, hearing the question about hunting bears, speaks up.
"My tribe hunts bear, you run them down with dogs, if it is winter you go in their cave with these,"
lifting up his Guisarme, so all can see.
"I did not bring dogs with me, but I should be able to follow tracks if we find them, but I would recommend we shoot it with bows at a distance and keep it away with polearm no one wants to get in a slap fight with a bear."
Bristeback adds, "the red bear is the largest and most ferocious of its kind. Standing at over 12' in height it towers over even most other bears. A few have tried to take him down and those that have returned have come back all mangled and generally missing a limb or two!"
Dolgrin wanders back, having given up on the barracks.
Well, bravely forth we go, we go, bravely forth we go. No reason for caution over some dumb beast. Larger simply means easier to hit, and I doubt any bear is going to do much with a few dozen arrows sticking out of him.
"We should leave first light next morning. I can use the exercise!"
Area map. You are up in the north east corner by the river.
You head out of the gate in the morning to find your a bear. Not just any bear but a red bear! South, west or in between?
after a pleasant evening of stories and joviality Elathras goes and sleeps in the hat mound out in the barn, wrapping himself up in his coarse wool blanket he spends the night dreaming about bears. In the morning as he awakens with the roosters crow, he goes back to the wood pile and using the innkeepers axe chops some cord wood to show his appreciation for the wonderful pea-soup from the previous evening. As the group gets ready to go he helps himself to a piece of bread and jam meeting his companions as they come down for breakfast. After getting a lay of the land Elathras makes a couple of recommendations for the group. AS they head out the gate.
bears eat anything they can get their paws on, but they drink only water
A bear will eat anything, including fish, but they only drink water. Let us follow the river bank and search for tracks, bear or humanoid, if we find the bear we take him. If we find bandits, they will try and take us, they will be in for a surprise. I recommend those who can track take the lead."