Groaning and leaning against the wall, "I would not go so far as to say there is nothing evil here. But yeah we should head back."
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Of Thistletop, you know what Shalelu told you back in Sandpoint: that Thistletop houses a tribe of goblins and is located on the Nettlewood coast atop a small island. Some say the island holds a passing resemblance to a decapitated head. Lead by Ripnugget the Fierce, the five other goblin tribes of the region agree that Thistletop is the best lair, or so Ripnugget demands.
With the Catacombs cleared, you head back out of the tunnel connecting to the Glassworks. You emerge from the Glassworks to a setting sun in Sandpoint and make for the Sandpoint Garrison, where you find Sheriff Hemlock sitting at a desk filling out paperwork. Upon noticing you, he sets his pen down and looks through you with his signature overly-furrowed brow.
"If it isn't the heroes of Sandpoint," he says, a tinge of sarcasm and apprehension in his voice. "What may I do for you?"
Tylur wastes no time responding to the man behind the desk. "Sheriff what can you tell us of activities with the goblins of Thistletop? We have searched the area below the glass factory and cleared it of the abominations that were occupying it. We will need to head Thistletop. We believe that Ameiko's half brother, Tsuto, is there now."
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"Thistletop? I know where it is, but I haven't a clue as to what's there other than what our elven hunter friend told us," Hemlock responds. "Goblins, of course. Lots of them. The likes of which could well, you know, light Sandpoint on fire just like they did during the Festival. If you're going there to track down that no-good Kaijitsu, you'd also do well to eliminate any goblins you might find. Anything else you find below the Glassworks that I should know about?"
Skarn looks at the sheriff a bit before finally pulling his chewed up cigar out of his mouth and interjecting, ”So, you be the reeve of this here town ay? Tis nay often that I get a chance to meet the constabulary when I be able to stand straight and not have ter cover me breath, hehehe. I just wanted to take the time ter meet ya socially, before e’er we might needs to meet perfesionally, so to speak. I be Skarn, of the Hornfels, purveyor and taster of fine ales and brews, at yer service.” Skarn sweeps off his hat in his cigar hand and gives a deep bow.
"Well, it isn't that I don't wish to tell you, but rightly, I don't really know meself. When you serve the Lucky Drunk, you never know just where you might awake on a given morn'." Skarn chuckles.
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"Oh, so those pesky goblins are planning an attack on Sandpoint. And they're being aided by Tsuto. To top it all off, there's some strange witchcraft occurring? A transformation? She means to become a succubus?" Belor Hemlock stands from his desk with urgency, slamming his fist down on the table. "Protect ourselves better?! Do you take me for some common nameless guard? We do everything we can to protect Sandpoint, and I have requested additional guards from Magnimar. But we are not so prepared to venture into catacombs nor can we spare the resources in attempting to take down a tribe of goblins. Please, if you will, stop Ripnugget and find Tsuto. Do it for the glory of the Sandpoint, the Light of the Lost Coast!" He pleads.
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After all that build-up, René was quite conflicted about the lack of a Tsuto in the underground shrine. The good news was that no Tsuto meant no death, which was definitely a thing he was a fan of. The less good news was that they would likely be sent after him yet again. Meaning yet another undefined amount of time spent with the certainty that death was imminent. It would almost have been a relief to have just gotten things over with. He did his best not to trip on his suddenly wobbly legs as they headed back to the sheriff's office.
He lets out a small huff of air as Hemlock comments that they're "not prepared to venture into catacombs". Like they were? Surely people who had made a career of fighting and protecting were better suited to...well...fighting and protecting the town than a group of strangers? Really, he should've listened to his gut when the goblins had shown up and ran away. Because apparently not doing so had magically earned him a reputation for some kind of competence that he was clearly lacking.
"Please, if you will, stop Ripnugget and find Tsuto. Do it for the glory of the Sandpoint, the Light of the Lost Coast!" He pleads.
"That there ain't as easy as ya seem ta think. Iff'n ya recall, we only went down to them there glassworks 'cause we thought Tsuto might be hidin' there. 'Less you done got some new gossips since we been gone, I ain't got even a whiff offa idear where else he might be hiding. Or who or where this Ripnugget fella is."
Skarn looks disapprovingly at René, "have the hearts of men fallen so low that they fear a few gobbos? It aint like I have aught else to be doing, and He sent me here for something, which I highly doubt was killing just them silly floating heads, so if the next step is killing gobbos, then let's plan to get on with it. Mind, I may not like the things, but I aint signing up for no genocide neither, or nothing like that!"
Cordwin speaks up. I'll go Sheriff! It wasn't that he was a goblin hunter or martial expert as his time in the catacombs proved, he just wanted to study the goblins even if it was as part of an invading force.
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The Sheriff cocks his head at René and sighs in defeat. "We do what we can for Sandpoint, but we are, sadly, ill-equipped to fight goblins. Mentally-speaking. Given how our town feels about fire, convincing even a band of guards to stand off against a tribe of crazed, pyromaniacal goblins is no easy task." He sits down again. "If Tsuto had written about this Thistletop in his journal, there may be a chance that he is there."
”I propose we do some drinking and singing bawdy songs. What more preparation could we need?”
"I will look for Father Zantus while you find a spot at the Rusty Dragon. He should be informed what happened to Father Tobyn and maybe can shed some light on what she is attempting at transforming into. Also Sheriff are there any historians or sages that reside within town?"
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"There's the Turandorak Academy, part school, part orphanage. Ilsoari Gandethus is the headmaster there. There's also The Way North, a cramped and cluttered library housing a tremendous collection of maps and charts. The gnomish owner is a little, er, jittery, but resourceful nonetheless," Sheriff Hemlock replies.
Skarn will attempt some research about Thistletop, at the bookstore, or library, or whatever?
Looking back and forth between everyone while they are talking. Way different from home.. Small town problems. I don't belong here.
But her mouth tends to get way ahead of her mind and in this case it does it again, "I can check out the library after checking in with my cousin."
Oooh! The Library! I would like to go there! Cordwin says piping up excitedly.
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You all stop at the library where you find Veznutt Parooh, extraordinary gnomish mage, or so he'd have everyone believe, with his face stuffed into a bookshelf. When asked about Thistletop, he adjusts his glasses, then tells Skarn and Cordwin the following.
"Thistletop, huh? That place was once the head of that Runelord Karzoug's sentinel statues. It stood upon the ridge of land called the Rasp before the nation of Bakrakhan became the Varisian Gulf. The statue has long since crumbled and become overgrown by the Nettlewood, but the head escaped such obscurement by landing in the surf. The magical nature of the statue's construction drastically slowed the process of erosion on the head's features, and when the sun hits the western cliff of the isle just right, one can just make out the ancient features of the statue's face! The statue once contained a small complex, but that was decades ago. Last I heard, goblins took the place over now!"
Aurora stops at the Sandpoint Town Hall afterwards, where Kendra Deverin greets her with a warm hug. "If you intend to chase Tsuto into Thistletop, do bring something that may aid travel through the forest. You'll have to venture through the Nettlewood, and the briars there are thick and tangled. Any sort of bladed weapon should work just fine to slash them down." She additionally offers any basic provisions needed (rope, rations, food, water, bedrolls).
Happily accepting the hug and clinging a little. But once Kendra makes to let go Aurora does but stays physically close. Laughing, in a hollow way, at Kendra's words before answering, "I had to borrow a dagger so where do I go to get a few axes?"
Smiling at the offers, "I will happily take you up on the offer of rope, food, and water. I think we are leaving in the morning since none of us have slept. Can we come by then?"
”I suppose I’ll take an axe for cutting through the brush.”
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"Surely Hemlock has a few hand and battle axes he wouldn't mind lending. Besides, it's not as if he's arming the town guard to travel through a forest and fight goblins," she smiles, rolling her eyes.
Heading back to the Rusty Dragon Inn, Ameiko greets you with a dinner of boar and potatoes and plenty of beer, spirits, and plain water. Honoring your reward of free rooms for life at the Inn, after finishing up dinner, you retire upstairs for the night.
The Sandpoint Rooster, Cluck Norris, caws at the crack of dawn. It's a new day in Sandpoint.
You walk back to the Town Hall and pick up the promised provisions from Kendra, including three 50' lengths of hemp rope, enough rations to last three days, and a waterskin for each of you. "Sheriff Hemlock stopped by this morning with these as well," she says, pointing to a weapons rack containing battleaxes and handaxes. "The Thistle River is located along the Lost Coast Road to the east. It's about six miles from here. You have my thanks for agreeing to assist us once again. Let's hope apprehending Tsuto and stopping those goblins puts an end to all of this."
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Having collected the necessary provisions, you depart Sandpoint and travel along the Lost Cost Road. It's only about two hours of travel before the trees around you become visibly thicker and tangled, with lengths of vine and bushes wrapping in on themselves. While you hear the gentle flow of water to your north, it isn't clear how to bypass the nest of foilage to get to the Thistle River, and subsequently to Thistletop.
Tylur looks from left to right and tries to figure what pass is best to take.
"Hmm"
+1 to track, +2 vs giant
Smiling at Kendra, "Thank you." Why am I here?
Keeping close to the group and refusing to let herself get distracted by all the wild plant growth. Though she is not very successful. The trees with their dangling vines are oppressive in a way the towering buildings back home never were.
René bypasses most of the researching and other chit-chat. It wouldn't do to have him look too interested in the books. Besides, Cordwin seemed in to that sort of thing, so they'd probably be fine. When offered the handaxes, he grabs one. More because it was free than because he thought he'd actually be of any use with it.
As the start looking for an undergrowth, he pulls out his compass and focuses on making sure the group doesn't get horribly lost or start heading around in circles.
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While Aurora has no idea where to go and aimlessly leads the part to a dead end, Skarn knows these woods as if he'd mapped them out himself. It takes hours before he leads the party towards a series of several narrow, goblin-sized tunnels through the tangles.
The briars and thistles that grow so rampantly in Nettlewood are even more dense and tangled here, close to the shore. Although not quite dense enough to block the sound of waves crashing on the unseen shores to the west, the undergrowth is certainly thick enough to block sight and access to the coast. Few trees grow this close to the edge of the sea, but the briars themselves often reach heights to rival them; here, the patch is nearly twenty feet high.
Looking at the thorns blocking the way he turns to Skarn. "Skarn I doubt those chain gauntlets* you are wearing would be affected by the thorns blocking our way. If you open the door I'll prepare for anything that comes for us."
René groans. "Of course it'd hafta go and be all tiny-sized. Good thing I'm young enuff fer it ta not hurt me back too much. ...I hope leastways." In preparation for the unpleasant trip, he removes his hat, letting Hadley hop around near him, and begins stretching.
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Skarn tears down the first briar door with his chainmail, revealing the narrow path through the woods. A four-foot-high tunnel winds through the dense briars and nettles. The floor is hard-packed earth, with patches of wiry plants growing stubbornly here and there.
+1 to track, +2 vs giants
Skarn peruses the area, and highlights several things of note to himself before reporting. ”There been goblins aplenty through here, along with them dogs o theirs.” He points at one longer track, ”and there was something big what was dragged through here.”
Tylur looks at the ground and nods. "Let's follow whatever was dragged."
Alternating between staring at the brambles and watching René. That man is so odd. Shaking her head, "Onwards right?"
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Skarn peers back over his shoulder at Aurora, ”or left?”
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"How big is big? We talkin' us-sized, right? Not, like, right proper giant-sized?" Can't have been too big or else it wouldn't have fit down here. Especially with the brambles all intact... "I reckon we should avoid something that can down a giant iff'n we kin."
"It's a large object but I do not think it would be a giant anything. It would not otherwise." he keeps moving through the thorns and helps Skarn cut a path for the others to follow unimpeded.
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You follow the obvious tracks of goblin and strange object and eventually, three thistle tunnels open up to a large, cavelike chamber. Above, the thorny canopy grows thin enough that tiny slivers of the sky above can be seen, while below, the ground consists of trampled dirt. To the west, the distant sound of sloshing waves echoes up from a hole.
Further ahead to your east, you spot a small watch tower poking up above the trees, but it appears unmanned.
Following the tracks proves to be a fortunate choice, and though it takes some time to carve a path through the tangle, you eventually end up at the river. A rope bridge spans the gulf between the cliff and a roundish, flat-topped island sixty-some feet to the north. Thick patches of nettles and briars grow here and there atop the island, but its most impressive feature is a wooden one-story stockade. Two thirty-foot-tall watchtowers guard the stockade's southern facade. The rope bridge itself is made of hairy rope and thick wooden planks; the whole thing creaks and sways in the wind above the churning surf eighty feet below.
”Full frontal assault, or do you guys have a standard method for infiltration in cases like this?”
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Grinning at Skarn but not replying. Content to be in the back or near the back as they move forward.
Perception to avoid getting boned.
Cordwin has a miserable time in the thickets. He liked libraries! He liked places of learning! Wilderness travel? Not so much! As a branch whips across his face, he decides he likes the wilderness not at all! He is relieved when they come to the rope bridge.
”Full frontal assault, or do you guys have a standard method for infiltration in cases like this?”
Whatever will get us out of these thickets sooner is my vote! He says as he slaps a mosquito.
Standing on the other side Tylur looks at the watchtowers. He motions to Skarn. "I can go first if you would like?"
"So, the best plan you have is a full frontal assault? I don't suppose any of you are engineering or trap experts and can tell if this bridge is stout enough to carry us, or that it isn't trapped?"
Aye! I can do that!
Cordwin says as he walks over to the bridge and looks all around and under it. If he sees that it is trapped, he will disable it, and finally he will push down on the walkway of the bridge with his foot to determine its strength.
" 'course, don't matter none if it can hold us all if there's some little bugger on the other side waiting ta cut the ropes soon as we're in the middle. Did we want ta go all in one shot or wait ta see if someone could secure th'other side. We could use some rope fer the poor critter wut goes first."
"If the plan is to send someone across to take a bridgehead, I wager that I might be our fastest runner. We dwarves are natural sprinters, very dangerous over short distances."