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Despite the magical despair fading, Anneka's still quite troubled. After all this, the violence, the deaths, now they learn that this is only one piece of a much larger puzzle.
"And the sihedron?" she asks, using Marten's invented gesture. "This was Xanesha, I suppose. While she has been carving it (Anneka motions scrapes her nail aggressively over her palm to demonstrate) into bodies, her sister suggests some other method to...to harvest their soul. Does anyone know much about Turtleback Ferry?"
Anneka holds the medusa mask in her hands, its eyes, dark lenses of crystal, staring back at her, drawing her closer, as if for a kiss...
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Drazh shook his head as he eyeballed the value of the gems and jewels that they had found. "Nay idea. Ye fancy that mask, lass? Suits the powers that ye've been cultivatin'. I'm sure that with it ye'll strike fear into the hearts o' our foes. Heh, to think, that I promised to look after ye to yer kin. And look at ye now! Flyin' around and flingin' spells. Wear it with pride, lass. I'd say that ye've earned yer pick of the spoils."
The village of Turtleback Ferry is a relatively quiet frontier hamlet located on the banks of the Skull River in central Varisia. It had problems a few decades back with giants. Rangers of the Order of the Black Arrow operate in this area to safeguard against further giant incursions.
It is at the edge of the political influence of Magnimar, the further outpost loyal to the city state. The Lord Mayor of Magnimar had Fort Rannick built and helped fund the founding of the Order of the Black Arrow. For this aid the village was left obligated to bend it's knee to Sandpoint politically.
"Turtleback Ferry is a fairly quiet hamlet on the banks of the Skull River. There was a problem decades ago with giants, now held in check by rangers of the Order of the Black Arrow. Let us visit the Proctor first. He may have more intelligence on activities in the area, or for possible useful contacts."
After a minor escapade involving ropes monkey dwarves and a few heart stopping moments your group manages to find a way down the tower.
The Proctor is willing to receive your report on what transpired. Once it's laid before him he'll ask you to wait til morning in the same inn while he considers the matter. After examining the letter he ponders "It would seem to me given the use of the word 'harvest' and 'target' the Lord Mayor is being lined up as a sacrifice. Still the matter of Turtleback Ferry is concerning."
"I'd like to here any viewpoints or recommendations, I think the Lord Mayor will be receptive once it is revealed the cult was going to go after them. Given a group of soldiers might not be the best equipped for this your group might be well placed for further investigations, with proper reward of course. For now enjoy a well deserved rest, you've done well in routing out this cult from Magnimar."
"Turtleback Ferry is a fairly quiet hamlet on the banks of the Skull River. There was a problem decades ago with giants, now held in check by rangers of the Order of the Black Arrow. Let us visit the Proctor first. He may have more intelligence on activities in the area, or for possible useful contacts."
"That order of rangers was founded by the Lord Mayor of Magnimar. If this is the same Lord Mayor implicated in Xanesha's note, we may be unable to consider them allies."
Hearing “giants” Drazh’s mood instantly soured. ”Aye. To the proctor. Now how do we get down without the stairs?”
"You'll recall that Ms. Azalia secured a rope outside the top of this tower. I recommend that egress."
Then, with the most neutral look he can manage, Marten walks over to the window, casts a spell, steps out of the window only to hover in the air, awkwardly glances at the rest of the party still in the tower, and then levitates to the ground.
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Ferocia wanders over to the crows. She looks at them, curious if they were the same birds she'd seen earlier.
She looks around for some food and feeds it to the birds -- if they don't flee at the sight of her.
She makes no comment on the loot, or discussions of greed. Just sits in the corner. A massive monkey hanging out with the birds.
Eventually, when the others are ready to leave she helps ferry them down to the ground, carrying whatever loot they need help lifting.
When they traverse the streets of Magnimar, the monkey sighs deeply. Her body shifts and shrinks, fur recedes...
...until it's only Ferocia standing alongside you.
"I hate this place."
She's quiet at the meeting with the proctor. It takes all her concentration not to complain -- or vomit. Ugh, this city stinks. And the noise! How can people live in this cesspool?
Never mind the people.
It's the birds she felt sorry for. She'd hate being caged in this dump.
When the group finally leaves, Ferocia asks, "How long will we be staying here?"
"I would request you stay til the afternoon. I will have news for you by then. After that I'll either have an offer for ye or you can return to your normal lives."
Miron breaks his silence.
"If there is anything I can do Proctor, I will remain. Protecting order is my normal life, after all."
He turns to his companions.
"Though some rest might not be unwelcome."
There Church of Abadar is putting ye up in that nice Inn again. But Miron might know a spot of public land near the city set up like a park she might prefer to camp in if she is looking twitchy.
At a quiet moment, Miron asks to speak with Ferocia in private.
Assuming she's fine with that:
"Ferocia, it occurs to me that you may be more comfortable with more natural sleeping arrangements. There is public park land just outside the city, should you prefer to camp there. I can give you directions if you wish them."
Drazh shook his head as he eyeballed the value of the gems and jewels that they had found. "Nay idea. Ye fancy that mask, lass? Suits the powers that ye've been cultivatin'. I'm sure that with it ye'll strike fear into the hearts o' our foes. Heh, to think, that I promised to look after ye to yer kin. And look at ye now! Flyin' around and flingin' spells. Wear it with pride, lass. I'd say that ye've earned yer pick of the spoils."
Anneka's startled out of some reverie, blinking blankly before she quickly stows the mask in her pack. Then, her hands free, she replies to Drazh. "I'm surprising myself, too. Anyway, the mask has some magic, and could it be useful, but I need to think carefully before exposing myself to the same power that fueled Xanesha's power."
All the talk of sins has her a little spooked, and she can't help but feel that the mask's allure is in some way a part of that, as though it is a stain on herself that she could covet such a treasure. "Maybe I'll wear it if we ever come across a dangerous situation like this again."
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After their discussion with the Proctor, she's looking forward a good night's rest. "If we are going to investigate Turtleback Ferry, we'll stop in Sandpoint, won't we? I've got to check in with Arika and Mama, and--"
Ask permission, she was almost going to say. The decision not to tell her mother about the trip to Magnimar was a big one. Never before had she acted so recklessly, and Alma Avertin was sure to be cross about it. But there's something much bigger going on here, and she just knows it has something to do with the Chopper, Casp, the loss of her hearing, the emergence of her startling abilities. Nualia and Aldern, Xanesha and Ironbriar, all points on a seven-pointed star. But what lay at its center? She suspects that Turtleback Ferry may reveal it...
As Anneka worries over heading home, Ferocia shrugs. She signs to her, "We need to stop in Sandpoint to report before leaving again. Don't worry."
When Miron asks to speak with her in private Ferocia follows him, completely unconcerned. Or perhaps, she's just more concerned with other things. At news of the park she raises an eyebrow. "Where?" she asks with urgency.
"It would not be the most direct route Miss Avertin but even if an expedition had to be launched it would be foolish to go immediately. The journey is four hundred miles and would need some preparation as well as a chance to rest after your ordeals. If your group goes that is."
"I suggest a few days in Magnimar for rest, recuperation, and re-armanenent. Then an overland trip via Sandpoint to offload our spare acquisitions and to report in. I will see if the Church of Abadar or the Magnimar government will assist us in this."
Miron will enquire about such arrangements.
After collecting the rope from the tower again and getting word of some new work for their group, Azalia finds that she is actually cheerful. Perhaps it was the artificial despair and having it lifted, but she seemed able to see things from a new perspective, and was looking forward to a trip with her comrades, not really worried about where they stopped or where they were going... just happy to be along for the ride.
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"Miron! Psst. Oi, lad. These cultists were going to kill the lord mayor, aye? And they were lead by a right high up justice? Might want to bring that up. Figure besides lootin' rights, they should be giving us some sort of reward for this, nay just the promise of a reward come after four weeks of forced march and more murdering nasties, eh?"
Apparently Drazh's idea of being circumvent was about what one would expect from a dwarf.
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The next afternoon the Proctor will meet you as arranged. "I have spoken with the Lord Mayor Grobaras and he sees the importance of the matter. He is expecting a report from Turtleback Ferry in about ten days which considering the next boat headed there is in fourteen days is well timed. We're not going to take everything in the report as being beyond further scrutiny."
"Lord Mayor Grobaras agreed with me that regardless of what is in the report your group should be sent to investigate in a subtle manner. Turtleback Ferry is quite independent minded, many members of it's community can remember a time before Magnimar held sway over them. I wouldn't go stomping in talking about investigations and authority. Time and the benefits of civilization will bring them into the fold. For now discretion would better serve you than mentioning anything about Magnimar."
Proctor Imikar leads you into another room. "To fund your expedition and to reward you appropriately for your previous and future actions you are being appropriately rewarded I am sure you will agree." In the room on is a small chest for each of ye with your name on it, inside each is seven hundred platinum pieces.
The Proctor gives an easy smile "Given the quantities involved I felt that it would be far more convenient to provide the sum in platinum."
Azalia's eyes light up. Maybe you *could* get what you wanted without breaking the law. If this kept up, she could give up illegal activities for good.
She doesn't interrupt the meeting with the Proctor, but afterward she asks the group
We, uh, have time to shop today, right? Does anyone know where a magic store is?
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Miron bows politely to the Proctor.
"My thanks, Proctor. This will go to good use."
Afterwards:
"Azalia, I can point you onto the crafter for my new belt. And I am sure Drazh could craft certain items, taking his armour as a good example."
Marten opens his chest and stares at it's contents for a moment. He closes it and looks around the room, his face betraying no emotion. He opens it and looks at the coins again. He closes it and looks at the proctor.
"Most satisfactory. Thank you."
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Drazh spent the next day walking through Magnimar in search of a single person. A crotchety old dwarf his father had once done business with. A runesmith. A dwarf whose craft was the enchantment of arms and armor. Bharak Flintshoulder was his name.
Drazh knew two things. First, that he’d be walking for up to four weeks. Doing so in fullplate, even mithril, would be unbearable. He *needed* to address that. And second, that he still had extended kinsmen, whom he was not yet ready to meet. But going to Bharak like this? Wearing his masterpiece? Coming with an urgent quest and a bag full of platinum? Word would spread in the dwarven community. His honor would grow. It would set the stage for his eventual return.
As such, he paid old Flintshoulder five hundred platinum pieces...and did his best to act like it was nothing. He paid the old dwarf that much to cover his plate with runic inscriptions. And when it was done?
The armor now would shed dirt and sweat as they accumulate, and remain as comfortable as weather-appropriate clothing regardless of the environment. It would always looks immaculately clean, and could be slept in as though it were as insubstantial as a suit of leather. It was further enchanted to resist both extreme hot and cold weather.
In short, this was now a suit of mithril fullplate that felt like a mere suit of traveling clothes, and which would never require upkeep or maintenance. It was the adventurer’s dream. He could not help but beam with pride when he walked out into the light of day, gleaming in resplendent mithril. He was ready.
Miron has a think about how to utilise his resources. And then decides to consult with Drazh.
"Drazh, a moment if you would. Given our recent grant of platinum, would it be feasible to reforge the breastplate I now wear with mithril, or additional enchantment?"
Azalia spends a lot of time in the magic shop, browsing all of the available items and looking everything over with her naturally magical sight. Then she selects a pair of eyeglasses, a pair of fingerless gloves, and a gargoyle figurine with an iron ring in its mouth. She seems overjoyed when she comes out with her purchases, not able to stop grinning.
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Ferocia accepts the chest of coins without even looking in it. Then she stomped out of the place and headed off to the creepy tower. She couldn't let those birds starve up there. Poor things were trained. They'd wait there if it killed them
She coaxed them down alongside her, and fed them well, hoping that they'd at least remember her when they flew off. Maybe they'd come back when they got hungry. Consider her a third roost or something. You never knew with birds. They were flightly things.
With her trio of ravens in tow, Ferocia stops at the market. Might as well spend the coin. As she opens it she cocks an eyebrow in surprise. Then closes it.
Spending this would take a while....
Or not! One raggedy body wrap and enough bird food to keep the ravens fed and content for the trip to Turtleback ferry and suddenly the coffer was empty. Meh. Easy come, easy go.
With her new gear, she and her trio of very excited ravens spend the rest of the time in Magnimar, living in the city park like a grumpy hobo. By the time she leaves the city, children have begun to tell horror stories of 'the Angry Bird Lady,' who howls like a bear and can send her ravens to pluck out the eyes of children who litter!
Kids these days.
Word comes down to you about the report... and your orders. Nothing is amiss about Turtleback Ferry proper but the same can not be said for Fort Rannick, base of the Black Arrows. Turtleback Ferry hasn't heard from them in some time and a local trapper headed that way with the intent of investigating never returned.
Whatever foul influence is spreading over the area has done something at Fort Rannick, that is to be your main area of investigation as it may contain more overt leads than the town proper.
As they discuss this information, Marten suggests:
"Assuming that these rangers aren't prevalent in the town, we should visit Turtleback Ferry first. We might gather information that could be useful. And no offence to anyone in your church's organization, Miron, but if whomever is at Fort Rannick has word of our coming, we don't want to walk in blindly."
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Anneka had never dreamed of having so much money in her life. Her first thought was that they'd pay off the mortgage on the bakery and their home. But that was only a fraction of the impossible wealth. Perhaps they'd have a new home, up on the hill with the other manors. Her thoughts turn to the Foxglove manor, but she quickly dismisses that idea.
She makes arranges to return to Sandpoint the very next day.
In the meantime, she finds that her shawl has been torn, and so she goes in search of a new one, accompanying Azalia into the strange magic shop. Therein she finds an attractive traveling cloak, its black velvet embroidered with delicate silver threading . She also purchases an extra healing wand. Just in case.
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Watching mama's and Arika's reaction when she opens the chest, Anneka can’t remember ever missing her hearing so much. To hear their gasps, their screams, and then their laughter would be worth every coin she had brought. Well, almost. She does her best to explain her involvement fighting against the underworld of Magnimar, leaving out the most dangerous bits (and therefore a large portion of the tale). And she explains that there is more yet to be done. That they are off to Turtleback Ferry. And perhaps it is the delirium accompanying their newfound wealth, but Alma Avertin doesn't protest. As she kisses Anneka's forehead, Anneka could swear there's a hint of something in her mother's eyes. Could it be pride?
That night, after they'd opened a bottle of their best cooking sherry in celebration, and spent hours brainstorming over what to do with their wealth, the girls had retired. But Anneka finds herself in the kitchens with a beeswax candle to keep her company, and it nearly burned down. Sitting before her on the table is the source of her restlesness, for the platinum was not the only treasure she had brought back with her from Magnimar. The medusa mask, its golden coiled snakes radiating out from the gemstone on its brow, shares her company.
And her secrets.
How it could know her so well, she has no idea, but it speaks to her with a honeyed words, tempting her with the sweetest of promises. But she would not be tempted. She would not. The mask is treacherous. It has come from Xanesha, afterall. Xanesha, the villain, the liar who had held such power over men like Ironbriar and Aldern, and who had used it to murder so many innocents.
But they were not innocents. The mask seems to whisper. They were treacherous, in their way. As was she. But you, sweet Anneka...
Anneka finds herself walking outside, arguing with the mask in her hands. But then she is drawing it close again, closing her eyes as her lips caress those of cold, gold-plated iron.
”I was meant for you,” both say simultaneously.
Anneka smiles, though it is now hidden by the golden mask she wears. For of course it was right. They were made for each other, weren't they? What was the use of fighting one’s destiny?
And with a sweep of her arm, she sprouts her shadowed wings, and then she takes to the night air, the roofs of Sandpoint growing smaller and smaller beneath her.
"Then let us seek out your runesmith Drazh. While I would be hard-pressed to obtain armour such as yours, I can make an effort.", he says with his slight smile.
The boat journey to Turtleback Ferry is in a word miserable. The weather is unseasonably wet and getting worse as you head upriver. Even below deck there is a constant droning pattering of rain drops on the deck.
When the boat pulls into Turtleback Ferry the Captain calls ye aside. "I'm sorry to say with the weather this foul and no end in sight I've decided not to go any further upriver. Unless your business is wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon you'll have to wait out the bad weather or head back by land. If this rain keeps up the river will be flowing fast and bursting it's banks. Whatever you are up to good luck!"
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Wet and miserable, Drazh grumbled under his traveling cloak. He was glad he had his armor enchanted. It felt like it weighed next to nothing, it cleaned itself, and it wasn’t in danger rust. But still. He was soaked, from beard to foot. And that made him mighty miserable.
”Right. Understood. Well, time to go by foot then. Ye all ready?”
Miron shivers slightly, but he refuses to let it slow him down.
"I understand, Captain. A safe journey to you. I am ready Drazh. Let us be on our way."
You find the locals friendly enough, although many of them seem nervous and skittish, quick to lock their doors at night and often overreacting to the sound of dogs barking or other unexpected noises.
There is a Church of Erastil in the village as well as an Inn (The Turtle's Parlor), a trading store, a tavern (Bottomrs Up) and a smith (Iron Tooth's Metal Goods).
Moving amongst the unknown locals ye spot a familiar face, Shalellu the elven ranger many of you met before in Sandpoint... and who Ferocia has an older relationship with.
Ferocia and her trio of ravens disembark without a word. The birds sit perched on her shoulders like strange, feathered shoulder pads.
She'd been in good spirits on the trip, despite the rain. The fresh air -- once again -- did her a world of good. Despite being soaked most days she smiled pleasantly, laughed heartily, and cooed at her new pets. Those of you with the best hearing swear you even heard her humming to herself once or twice.
As the captain gives them his warning she shrugs, unconcerned with the weather, and trudges through the mud along Turtleback Ferry's banks. At the sight of Shalelu she crosses her arms, frowns deeply, and curls up her lip in disgust.
She does not greet the elf.
Azalia uses Prestidigitation to make an umbrella of force and walks over to the inn to have a meal. She nods to Shalellu as she passes.
Ferocia follows Azalia, scowling all the while.
Azalia turns heads as an unknown magical elf untouched by the rain... well less touched by the rain.
Shalellu nods back at Azalia ignoring Ferocias foul mood. "I wasn't expecting to see any familiar faces out this far given the weather. What brings you to Turtleback Ferry?"
The newly reforged breastplate still gleams, the mithril fashioned into the key symbol of Abadar and with other markings signifying his rank of inquisitor.
Miron turns to Shalellu.
"We investigate. Enemies of Sandpoint and Magnimar lurk near. What brings you here? A similar task?"
Anneka, dressed in a simple cream dress with a high, ruffled collar, has drawn the hood of her new traveling cloak over her head. She was glad for it, what with the rainy weather. Normally she liked the rain, as long as she wasn't traveling under it... She strolls through Turtleback Ferry with the others, her medusa mask hidden safely in her bag (no sense startling the already-apprehensive locals). She marvels at the wilderness that encroaches only a few steps away. The trees remind her of the lumber mills.
She smiles at Shalellu, offering a little hug. "Martin came for work. I thought I'd just come along for a little exploration. I've never been out this far before. Where's the inn? I think we might stay a few days."
Shallelu will slightly awkwardly accept the hug from Anneka. "I do come out here on occasion trying to keep an eye on things. Getting out of this rain or a little while does seem like a good idea."
She continues in a quieter tone "What nature is this enemy? Have ye decided to head up towards Hook Mountain and try your hands at giants or are you looking into something specific?"
Maybe you should just tell her. Anneka signs to Marten, nodding knowingly toward Shalellu.
"They're not the nature of your expedition then I take it." She assumes. "This far out it starts to become more of a problem. Ogres and Stone Giants for the most part in this particular area but Hill, Frost and others can crop up from time to time. It has been many seasons since an organise group has ventured into this area."