"So - if the leader falls, the rest of the group stops fighting and leaves his stuff? Would they expect us to stop fighting if you had fallen? I expected them to fight to avenge him..."
Kithian shrugs and looks up at the bard. "No, I am sure they would have killed all of us if they could have. Why they stopped...Maybe we can find out later, tonight be happy we survived a Tamiir-Quah raiding party."
The wizard groans/grunts at Cam's comments and does not vocalize much at the offering of aid or the obviously terse treatment of the cleric. She seems content to brood.
The pile includes a horn of superb quality, rimmed in what appears to be bronze and gold. A piecemeal set of hide armor that appears to be well worn but made from some strange and very durable skin of [i]something[/i[ (DC Kno:Nature 15 to identify). The sword is also of superb quality and in the light of day it is obvious that whatever steel was used was mixed with another metal giving the blade a dark, wavy hue in the right light. (Masterwork cold iron). A pouch with a mix of small gems and coin (approx 340 gp in value). The leaders helmet which is actually steel lined with the bones, feathers and so one attached outside the interior. A backpack, bedroll, waterskin, 3 torches, flint and steel, and 2 days of rations. 2 throwing axes. 1 leather necklace featuring a small but elaborate carving of a raven in black onyx.
Knowledge Religion:
Kithian calls upon his connection with the Lord in Iron as he looks at the items to determine if any are magical in nature, then grins at the others. "Then again, they could have gotten spooked when the attacked us following the direction of a Shaman of Gorum and it all went south for them rather quickly. Gorum did not favor them as they had thought he would. I would imagine that icehole of a shaman is going to have to do some mighty fast talking to make amends for this one."
Rullis smiles broadly at Kithian's suggestion of the Shaman's forthcoming fate, but otherwise makes no comment of his own.
The horn is magic. The necklace is magic. Everything else is just "nice" ;)
"Ah. That makes sense, I guess." He moves over to the wizard to see if he needs some assistance with supper, but he keeps his sword and shield a lot closer.
Rullis can't get a god read on the horn but the necklace is a stone of protection, meant to guard the bearer against harm
The rest of the night passes without incident, the forest alive as it should be but nothing intruding on your camp.
The armor is hid but no one has identified hide of what and it certainly looks....different.
Kerrec watches all of this from afar, not interested in gaining any items from the tribal squabble. It seems the Shoanti laws were abided by in this situation and he takes note of how things were settled in case he is involved in such matters in the future. He will make sure the prisoners are secure and will bed down for the night.
"What sort of magic would you put on a horn? Kithian, is it an instrument for music or perhaps call to battle? Maybe a container?"
Camillo will examine the horn for a bit before returning to talk to Vidar and the prisoners to see if they know what it is.
Kithian shrugs and takes a look at the horn. "Doubt it is for music. May as well blow it and find out." The barbarian grins as he hands the horn to the bard.
Camillo looks it over to see if it has finger-holes or even a place to blow through. If it does, he will try to blow a note through it, knowing that the barbarian is making fun of him and playing along to see where the joke goes.
The horn is about a foot long and features a brass looking metal mouthpiece that has been afixed to the bony like shell of a horn that looks perhaps like a ram or some other similar sized creature?
As Cam brings the mouthpiece to his lips he continues to think of Kithian's mocking tone and blows the horn dutifully. In a strange way Kithian seems locked in Cam's mind as he blows. Stranger still only Camillo and Kithian hear the horn blow. To the rest of the group there is only silence.
"A powerful call. More of a summons or warning device, I think, than an instrument, though."
"Powerful? You haven't blown it yet. Let's hear it." Rullis thinks Camillo's reaction is strange and gives him a confused look.
"Yeah, it... OK, wait a moment."
Putting the horn to his lips, he brings the cleric to mind and concentrates on the cleric's face as he blows the horn.
"Did you hear it this time?"
"Strange."
Rullis steps back a step as Camillo blows a blast from the horn. "Oh yes, you definitely blew it this time. Not sure why you didn't just do that the first time."
"A-ha! I did! But the first time, I was talking to Kithian, so he was on my mind when I blew the horn and only he heard it! This time, I made sure to think of you, and you heard it, but he did not!"
He looks at the horn in his hand, "It's like being able to sound the charge, but only your army can hear it - what a clever idea! I wonder if a person can, with practice, use it to notify several allies at once or if it is only one person at a time. And what if I concentrated on an enemy instead - could it harm them somehow? Vidar, you know so much more about such things - have you heard of such a thing before?"
Rullis muses to himself and nods in understanding. "That might come in handy. I wonder how far away you can hear it."
"I would like to examine this further, if I may, but I think it might be a useful tool for the group, so I don't intend to claim it as mine, really."
The next day moves without incident save that as the group makes its evening camp, it sees a load of merchants, many of whom participate in the regular visits to Sandpoint, pass them by. The merchants are amenable for a quick chat and are willing to sell you things from their wares, having firmly established your reputation after your recent adventures.
Camillo will chat up folks and happily experiment, fascinated with the properties of the horn.
He will also make sure Orik is aware of where it is in the wagon in case something else happens and he needs a weapon. Just leave it alone unless he truly needs it - the others might misinterpret his intent...
Rullis will browse the merchant's wares for a bit, but will then remember the dangerous prisoner that they transport and will move back to keep an eye on her. He'll gladly let the Bard chat up the visitors.
1. Re: the Horn. Testing shows it needs to be people you can "visualize" in your mind clearly. People you know well or, people you can see on the road, etc. Larger groups would probably require some test of concentration and starts to fall apart as more people get involved. You can also "blank" your mind to a certain extent and the horn just blows out loud.
As far as the sound it is a good shape and decent mouth piece so you have a decent variation of sounds just like a bugle or other brass instrument. You are not going to write an opera on it but you could certainly belt a tune or two.
The distance is pretty extreme, easily in the "more than a mile" category when blown out loud. The selective effect seems slightly more limited, fading somewhere near 3/4 of a mile or so.
2. In friendly conversation the merchants think that you might fetch upwards of 1500 if you could find someone with an eye for "art" in the realm of old artifacts and the like. Most of them think more than 250 would be absurd as it is obviously no "nicer" than any other ranseur of similar quality. This leads a few of them to shrug at each other about the willingness of collectors and the like.
The caravan passes by, eager to push their luck into the dark to make the trip that much faster. The night passes without further incident and the next day starts with sunshine and a decent, all be it cool, breeze.
As you continue to make your way on the road clearing begin to pop up here and there, marking the outlying farms and houses of the city of Magnimar.
At midday you come across a somewhat delapidated roadside tavern/inn, a bit of a crossroads for the farms and mines that criss-cross the landscape and funnel in on the northern road. Even at this time of day there is a sort of rowdy attitude to the various patrons. Nothing sinister just "salt of the earth" type rambunctiousness.
Cam thanks the folks from the caravan and wraps the bundle in the wagon once more. He continues to practice with the horn, concentrating on his horse after the others get tired of being the 'victim' of his musical experimentation.
Kerrec's mood brightens as the group gets closer to Magnimar. There is something about the bustle of a city that Kerrec has always enjoyed. Seeing it's lunch-time when they come across the tavern and Kerrec is feeling a bit charitable...
"Perhaps we can sit down for a real meal here," Kerrec suggests. "First round is on me."
"What the..? You surely did not just...How can you..."
Vidar, having remained silent and moody ever since Kithians comment about his mother turns completly scarlet, stuttering and spluttering, eventually he just storms of, cursing and swearing.
Kerrec blushes himself realizing he unintentionally took a swipe at Vidar's cooking.
"I was more talking about actually sitting in a chair and eating at a table, instead of using rocks to sit on and the ground to place my food," Kerrec explains to the others. Looking after Vidar's wake, "I probably should wait for him to calm down before I explain myself, yes?"
Kithian chuckles and slaps Kerric on the back. "Well at least he has his panties in a bunch about someone besides me. Thanks!"
"You guys go in, I'll check on Vidar." Rullis rushes off after the wizard, yelling, "Vidar, wait up! I thought your cooking was really good!"
Camillo is torn between the chance to work another crowd and his duty to watch the prisoners. With Rullis' suggestion, he goes on in, but he nurses his ale, making it last while he visits with other travelers about the road ahead and news of the city.
A rickety sign noting "The North House" sways on rusting chains with the open and closing of the front door. As those of you who enter stepp up past the sunken stair that serves as doorstep, you are treated with the rush of classic tavern life; stale sweat, loud conversation, warm yeasty smells of bread and beer and the acrid tinge of cleaners, vomit, burned food and harsh spirits.
This is a partying tavern for people who've "earned" it. A wide swathe of weary travelers, mud caked farmers and merchants and a few "exotic" types pay no heed to any of you as you walk through the door. A trio of serving girls and one gangly boy no more than 13 swerve through the throngs of benches, tables, chairs and stools to dish out meals and drinks and clean up messes. A tall man, Garundi from his complexion, wipes up the bar, pours the drinks and distractedly yells at the kitchen behind him.
There is a dice game and a card game, each with a spot or two open. One of the long tables has spots for 3 or 4, though with some other people. A table for two and a line of stools on the far end of the bar sit unoccupied and ready.
Tales are swapped, stories told. A fight or two come close to starting and all in all its booze and people at its "finest".
With a small flourish, "Well? If your buying, you should get to pick the seat, don't you think?"
Seeing the rest of the group head into the tavern, Rullis calmly says as he reaches wherever Vidar stormed off to, "They went inside. We should head back and keep an eye on the prisoners. So, have you figured out anything new about that book?" He tries to lead the wizard back by slowly starting in that direction himself.
Pointing at the long table with open seats, "It seems there should suffice."
Once the server arrives Kerrec will order some drinks and give the server an extra silver stating, "Just in case you have heard any news from the travelers coming from Magnimar."
Vidar nods at the reasonable suggestion of Rullis, eventually managing to calm down from furious to merely seething.
At the mention of the book, he frowns a little and shakes his head.
"Being that the book is addictive, I am attempting to refrain from using it unless I have a good question to ask.
You remember that ancient recorded message? I am considering asking the book for all information about Alaznist, I postulate that whoever that may be, it's nemesis might be mentioned, thus allowing us to learn the nature of the man in the recording."
It is the gangly youth who attends to Kerrec and he flushes a bright crimson at the extra coin, Yessir, sir! I mean indeed some news has come about from the city sir! Strange ruomours of a group of masked men, prowling the city on dark nights. Not theives or a gang per se but strange goings ons indeed! A butcher shop emptied including the slop buckets of draining and offal! Merchants here and there missing trinkets and finery but nothing too grand! Mostly things old and rotting, antiqes but too beat up for good profit. Of course the normal murmurings of more crime, more newcomers, not enough guards and the like.
The boy seems breathless to share more, From outside the city we have heard grand tales of a goblin hoard bested by a group of knights and wizards! Rangers and hunters report strange carcasses of beasts killed and rotting far too quickly! I've even heard the Sandpoint Horror was spotted south of the town! SOUTH! That never happens! I am sure there is more but let me fetch your food and drink sir!
Rullis nods at Vidar's concern. "It's probably best if we get this sorceress to the Magnimar prisons before asking, just in case something were to happen." The cleric looks at the wagon and horses just left right in the middle of the road. Gesturing those them, he says, "We should probably move them and find a good spot to camp for the afternoon." Looking up at the mid-day sun. "Kithian is probably going to be awhile."
"Three ales my good man and the same number of your lunch specials." The large half orc grins at his two companions and points at the server. "You guys going to order something?"
Shaking his head, Camillo laughs and says, "And here I thought you were ordering for all of us! My good man, I'll have one of what he's having three of. And my other friend is paying. Do come back and tell us more of what you've learned, if you would."