Smiling Ridley plops down infront of the man, just out of arms (his arms) reach and gives him her most endearing smile.
"Hi," She sais brightly. "I'd offer to shake, but you turned out to be quite the prick. Where'd those potions you like so much come from? How on earth can you drink that crap, it smells like fish guts! Did you know they were enspelling you? And what's this business with magic abusers and telling folk we're necromancers. I'm good with faces, and I'm pretty sure I've never seen you, so how on earth do you think you know anything about me and my friends? Bunch o' bloody drunks maybe, but necromancers? Ghah! I probably fiddled with more bones than this lot combined, and I'm not talkin' that kinda' fidling either. Nope, I'm not a necromancer, I'm an archaeologist!"
Let's get the package to Tauster. The magic may wear off or it may not, by the time we get there. My former master is a formidable mage, and he might have some insight into all this. Whether he helps us or not, we can leave Carlanis there or bring him to the magistrate on the way back. We'll just have to watch him carefully.
You DON'T want to try to run from us. That would be foolish, he says to Carlanis.
With the mans hands firmly tied behind his back, Dreadan forms a noose and secures it around the man's neck then wraps it around his shield hand. "You run and I pull. After you pass out we will try it again."
Bogorin arched any eyebrow at the noose arrangement. He was not one for tying people up in general, nor of leaving enemies alive. There were only two kinds of enemies in his book, dead ones and dead ones. But he supposed it wasn't quite clear yet if this poor fool of a farmer was one or not. And it did seem an effective means of controlling the human. 'Humans, like I always say, nothing but trouble.'
Grunting again in response to Seltyn's suggestion he replies "Werks fer me. Leastwise tha way we gits the rest o' our gold as well." which, really, was the most important part of the whole thing of course.
Deciding that a kick was actually indeed in order the dwarf boots the man in the behind to get him moving while saying to all in general "Alrite, let's head out. You too!" pointing at the young farmer. Once again the dwarf moves to the front with Dreadan, this time though the bound farmer travelling in front of them.
Beestinger continues to watch the road both ways, fairly sure that his companions have the interrogation well in hand.
Acustom to being talked over by people, Ridley politely stops with the lecture and listens to his idea, finding it agreeable, and noting at least some of the rest of the party does as well, she gets to her feet, dusts her hands off and prepares to beging marching again.
Seeing Dreadan getting this Carlanis fellow straightened out, Ridley sets her sights on Mr. Wolfhorn. "Hi! She says brightly "You have a very pronounced zigomatic arch..." and so the jabbering begins anew...
Seltyn whispers to Bogorin, Bound by Dreaden, tortured by Ridley. We may break them, yet.
We can assume the same marching order, with Carlanis and the farmer leading the way as our "trapfinders."
The old dwarf involuntarily shudders slightly at the idea of being subjected to a whole day of the halfling's ramblings. Unconsciously he picks up his pace a bit, putting more distance between himself and the 'magic mouth'.
Throughout Ridley's incessant ramblings Carlanis remains silent, nostrils flaring, lip quivering into a snarl. Traveling onward Carlanis broods quietly, his hawkish eyes seeming to take careful note of everything that occurs, but most sharply focused on your spell casters, though Wolfhorne proves to be rather agreeable toward the halfling once the shock and fear of being captured for banditry with his leader appearently having been enchanted had dulled into an uncomfortable sense of dread. He still stutters and speaks little, but doesn't glance about with the pure sense of venom that exudes from your other captive. That evening, once camp is made, Carlanis refuses any food offered to him, turning up his nose and looking away, though the skinnier farm hand that he had recruited is positively salivating at the mere mention of dinner.
Knowing it to be useless to try and speak with the leader while the potion still seemed to be affecting him Bogorin says "We'll not be gittin' nutin' out o' this one, tha's fer sure. Best we gag 'im fer the night, tie 'im to a tree n' post a double watch. As tha dark don bother me n tha orc none we kin each take a night watch, tha rest o' ye figger out fer yerselves when ye wants tae be up." And putting action to word, he proceeds to gag Carlanis and wrap and tie his rope about a tree several times.
That task done, he next stomps over to the boy, gives him a good glare and says "A'right boy, ye been behavin yerself so far, so I'll start off nice like. Ye tell us everything ye know what ye ain't yet. N' ye best not be leavin' anythin' out this time."
Sense Motive:
Intimidate:
Beestinger will continue to maintain vigilence, letting the others deal with the prsioners directly.
Seltyn will listen in to Bogorin's "conversation," hoping to glean any information that could be useful, if there is any.
Iriesys will take up her best Dwarven accent. "And if that weren't bad enough, if ye lie, ah'll turn yer Coat pink."
To demonstrate, she'll cast Prestidigitation, turning her straw hat pink.
Seltyn laughs. You look beautiful! Can you make my boots yellow? My cloak's a little scorched, too...
After a pulled-away short conversation with Seltyn:
Commence yellowfication of boots, and the cleansing of the cloak.
Suitably intimidated by Borgorin's glare (and suitably impressed by Iriesys's display of magical prowess), the cooperative captive, young, stuttering Brionne Wolfhorne runs through his tale again. He tells that he was a poor laborer and was approached, perhaps a month or so before by the other prisoner, Carlanis. The man wove tales of vile spellcasters (necromancers!) coming to the Harenshire to taint it with their dark magics and must be stopped at all costs. He was even willing to pay good coin from his own purse for aid in the task, though where he acculated the gold Wolfhorne couldn't say. He had rounded up a few others as well, and even hired a duo of thugs, local bandits, to round out the gang. Carlanis quickly devised the cunning ruse to close with the group and quickly take down the dangerous magic users. Their leader had some odd quirks as well, such as the regular drinking of his strange brew that stinks of fish, but not offering to share.
The rest of the evening passes uneventfully. Carlanis remains silent and refuses to return eye contact if he can help it. Thankfully watches pass without a notable occurance and everyone is able to rest themselves as well as can be expected. There is a a bit of a shock in the morning, however, as your party rouses and goes about their sunrise rituals. Carlanis remains unresponsive; at first it looks like he simply remains asleep, still tied, but it quickly becomes apparent that at some point he ceased breathing in the night and is very much dead.
Perception:
Perception:
Heal:
Night before: "A'ight lad, I believe, ye kin stop skakin' no, ain't none o' us care tae see ye wet yerself." as there seems to be nothing further gained from the lad, the old dwarf is content to let the matter rest, for now.
Next Day: Cursing as he realizes that the leader had escaped their clutches by dying, and so that therefore so to did his master. Borgorin is about to turn away in disgust when he notices something out of the corner of his eye and turns back "'Ey now! Wot's that!" and bending closer he points it out so that everyone can now notice the trickle of blood coming out of the mans ear. "'Ey! What you lot make o' that then?" Borgorin asks as he at the same time considers what it might signify and carefully looks the corpse over from head to toe. .
[ooc[ Is there another heal or knowledge check possible to determine what might have caused the bleeding through the cranial orifices? [/ooc]
Dreadn looks down at the human's corpse and shakes his head." Did some one hit in the head yesterday during the ambush?"
I wasn't exactly paying close attention, but I don't think he got hit in the head yesterday.
Heal:
Knw (arcana):
The old dwarf shakes his head, having no idea really "Mebbe it 'as sumthin tae do wit that drink o' 'is e was takin'? Bah! 'E was better off dead anyway I says, good riddance."
With a shrug and a spit off to the side, he almost completely dismiss the corpse in front of him from his mind. "So, off tae the vilage tae drop off this lad 'ere n' talk tae the town leader, eh?" he says to the group in general.
KD
KA
Telsyn shares this: You know that there are powerful creatures which practice psionic powers (a rare-form of mind magic not-unalike enchanting spells, but more direct) which could cause such a grievous injury silently, but they are all known to lair deep underground in the Darklands and their powers are generally limited in range; to their immediate surroundings. And if one were to appear above ground, it would be quite noticable-for even the smallest among them is larger (and perhaps clumsier) than a stable-shed.
So, if it's psionic, it's not from anything around here.
Nodin listens to Telsyn speak about rare magic than shrugs and puts the injured man over his shoulder before saying "Lets be off than."
Dreadan shrugs and kicks dirt on the body. About as good a burial as he deserves. Buzzards need to eat too."
Anybody got a shovel? No? Well, we could put him on the donkey and get him buried when we find someone who does. He was a jerk, but I think he wasn't really in control of himself, either. Leaving him here, well, that's just bad juju.
"He just received the only burial I am going to give him. I do not beleive he would not have given any of us one. If you want to drag him be my guest." Dreadan turns and slings his pack ready to move out.
Taking a moment to recall who they're talking about, Bogorin looks at the corpse, looks to the Elf and the two big fighters and sums up his opinion ini a shrug. He then prods the young prisoner "A'ight lad, ye know tha way best, so start walkin'." and proceeds to march off behind the boy.
On the other hand...
Telsyn just lets it go and moves along. Flash doesn't need to be burdened, anyway.
Well, then, let's get moving again." Iriesys says, cheery as ever.
Your remaining captive gulps nervously, but nods and complies, leading you further North along the path toward Galduria. The sun hangs low in the sky late that afternoon before you arrive, painting the wispy clouds pleasant, warm colors. On the outskirts of town you see a great many abandoned houses, now falling into ruin, lying outside the wooden palisades surrounding the village.
The lizard folk of the mire now generally flee at the sight of humans or demi-humans they encounter, the memory of their defeat apparently still fresh in their minds.
There is no guard posted at the open gate during the day, so you are all able to stride into town. The village is rather unimpressive, the only notable features are two towers- one the great spire of the twilight academy, and the other (ramshackle in comparison) a two-story affair that is the home of Tauster the Evoker; something known to all locals and acquaintances. The rest of the buildings are single story, and more often than not made of wood and mud, and only occasionally with stone foundations.
:
"Well, let's get our delivery out of the way, and then we can get to the bottom of what's happened with all the hate for magic-users. Sound like a plan?"
KH:
Yep. This way.
We'll go straight to Tauster's house.
Knowledge(history):
Thoroughly unimpressed with the human town, Borgorin grunts, spits to the side and says "Hmm, I'm thinkin' we don't need tae be draggin this lad around wi' us when we make our deliv'ry." He replies, not wanting any eyes other than those necessary seeing the gold he'll be getting as his pay. "What say we at least drop off tha boy first n' let the mayor know wot's wot. We kin always come back n' talk tae 'im later if we want, right?"
Not waiting for a reply, he shoves the boy a bit again, not roughly or unkindly though and says "Well, don' jus' stan' there lad. Where to next? Might as well see tha Mayor straight off n' git this bizness settl'd I figure."
Grunting again in impatience, the old dwarf looks down as the flask on his belt, grimaces, looks away, looks back down again, curses, quickly rips it free opens the cap and takes a swig, and sighs. Then he grimaces, closes it, curses again and roughly stuffs the flask into a small pouch at his side.
He then glares at the boy as if the whole thing were somehow the poor lad's fault.
"Uhhh... yeah. That sounds like a better plan, if only a slightly modified version of my own. Let's do that."
Bone Breaker shakes his head before saying "Lets be off to see the mayor than."
Let's take him to Tauster, first. We'll see what my old master has to tell us, then leave him with the locals. I think Tauster might be able to tell us more than the local sherriff before we do anything else. He might want to know what we've encountered before we let the man go.
I didn't account for all of these modifications. Tauster might well know more, and he could help us with a lead for our other problem, as well. Heck, he may have had some problems with locals, although that's much less likely.
As the elf makes his point, Bogorin stops, grunts, and squints at him. Obviously thinking for a moment he finally grunts in displeasure again and turns the boy towards the tower before stomping off once more. After a few strides he says loudly back over his shoulder "But we settle up tha pay n' such after tha boy's gone!"
The astute of hearing can also hear him mumble to himself after that "Damn pointy eared tree huggers, always thinkin' their so smart. Course I woulda thought o' that! Was jus testin' tha lot o' d'em."
He then looks down at the closed pouch for a while, then growls and looks up and keeps marching forward toward the tower. The boy, glancing back, sees the old Dwarf's face, gasps, blanches, and immediately starts scuttling forward more quickly.
Approaching the tower, a simple knocking on the door provides no answer. Only after pounding louder and louder do finally draw Tauster's attention. An old voice is heard, muffled through the thick oak of the door, "Durn it! I've already paid my taxes, I don't need a new horse, I don't use my magic to build tool sheds, and I'm too busy to burn the rats out of your baseme-" A peephole slides open in the door and a pair of wrinkled old eyes widen at the sight of you, carefully gazing over your party. A second later the peephole slams shut and the door creaks open, a stooped old man waddling out. "Apologies, Telsyn; didn't know it was you. You know how short my temper gets when I have to spend time, uck- scribing scrolls," he explains. "It is a process I'd like done with as soon as possible. Normally I'd have an apprentice do it for me, but..." -he blushes, as if recalling who he is speaking to, "but, today I am alone. So, what bring you back this way so soon? Are those my supplies? Gordrenn didn't muscle you into doing his courier work did he? Well bring it inside, bring it inside. Let me brew us up some tea- I've a lovely blend shipped this way from Korvosa." The old wizard's demeanor quickly changes from a crotchety old man to that of a friendly grandfather. Though he speaks quickly and with familiarity his sharp, hawkish eyes tell of a grand intellect.
Telsyn will give Tauster the package, and when he can get a word in edgewise, he'll tell him about Carlanis and the weird experience we had with him. He'll also ask about our prisoner.
I wasn't sure what to do with the man. We can leave him here, but I thought you might have some insight as to what caused this, so we brought him here, first, so you could talk to him.