"We cannot go back the way we came. A local has seen the... scene, and rushed to raise the alarm." Gristav winds his way through his fellows as he speaks. "Too many caravari to witness us now if we try the trapdoor, even if their memories from this morning have already faded. And with all we fought now dead, we are an unknown."
"I saw you dropped the flag. Got tired of waiting?"
Petulant at not having his vengeance counted in flesh and blood, Phillip just scowls as he is stopped by Gristav's words. He's given to temporary silence and pause as he measures options from the hole they've maneuvered themselves into.
"Would almost have been better if they HAD answered your flag. We'd have a chance at passage by ship rather than the walk back. Perhaps we'll try nearer dusk? Smuggling is a night game, yes?"
"Say, Phillip, here's an odd coin. Chelish, well-cared for, though it appears at least one former holder had definite intent." Gristav waits for Phillip's attention, just as he'd waited for dryer ground in the tunnel before speaking, then tosses scarred Chelish token to his... companion? It served as a working title. "Seems more your sort of coin than mine. If you can make our common use of it...?"
"Why don't get help from the coin owner? He works for... my friend... the General. Or did Mescher give the coin straight to you like he did Malkith?" Braddon asks uncertainly.
"The last man who carried that coin was one of the three we fought. They're all dead, as I said. I doubt the General with linger over his tears. But if this were Malkith's coin, it would suggest he's come here, as might have been suspected. Let's hope for his continued... continuance?"
"Phillip, given it's not a Sczarni silver, I'd welcome it's return, though favor any alternate plan...?"
"Let's just find a way out of here and we'll deal with what we have to as we go. I've had enough of this dungeon. And I don't care how we get outta here as long as we get outta here. I'm with the Suit: Get something to eat and hole up somewhere for the night."
"We dropped the flag because we caught our fish. We're having her for lunch tomorrow. The guy from Riddleport said she wanted Shorafa dead," Braddon explains as only he can.
"If this is the only way out, then I guess we go back. Are you sure the Caravari will be back at the tower. If I kill a couple maybe they'll let us past?" he suggests hopefully.
With quizzical raise of brow Phillip looks to receive the coin from Gristav... before Braddon's words forestall the need of Gristav to toss it t'wards him. With a slight shake of his head "Not past the people with bodies in wake, they've the knowledge of this place and tend to grudges. Best we look to make scarce quiet and clean... there's been enough blood shed for the moment." looking over to Tendal "There's a shaft you mentioned might get us above and absent eyes?"
"Be mindful of skills we do not all possess. Remember Tendal's stumble. Any of us might stumble, and then we are back in battle, or at the least, subject to being accurately reported to Marzo. Is there no path back from the beach end?"
The others saw no path at the shingle (though Gristav makes a mental note that a low tide might reveal more). The reunited group retraces Gristav's recent steps through the cave with the spring and into the large cavern beneath the clearing. Gristav having closed the trap door from the tower behind him, the only shaft of light comes from the hole in the floor of the ruined building Tendal explored.
"Once above", Gristav preambles faintly, "We cannot return through the Varisi. We'll need another path. To town. But not the path to town. The nature of paths is that there is one, that's why it remains a path. Perhaps, our softest boots try to find such a path, before we hard- and high-heeled start our clopping about?"
"Sure," Braddon grins. He sheathes his weapons and carefully clambers up, listening and watching for any signs of enemies.
"Right behind you, bub." Snake waits for Braddon to make his way up before taking his turn.
Somewhat more circumspect Phillip waits until Braddon and Serpe have breached the surface and a span of seconds passed without screams of agony or cries of challenge... then he ascends.
The aperture in the ceiling is not within easy reach; fortunately, however, the sloping floor is much higher here than beneath the trapdoor into the tower, and with a boost from Snake and Gristav, Braddon is able to brace himself in the narrow shaft and inch his way up into the dilapidated building. Once up there, it's quick work to attach a rope to a stable beam and lower it to the others. Snake has the tightest fit maneuvering through the vent, with his large build and broad shoulders, but eventually the whole party is back on the surface.
Braddon tip-toes over to the west door, glides his short sword from its sheath and carefully peers outside.
Tendal looks down in mild distaste at his besmudged pants and crushed ruffles. He picks at the cloth for a second, hoping to return it to its previous state, but then gives up as Braddon makes his way to the door.
I will have to engage a launderer...or hope that spells are able to repair and replenish my attire, he thinks, his mind clearly not on the situation at hand.
That is a decent thought. I do need a good spell to repair and launder clothing to a pristine state. If we are tromping in wood and mire more often, then something will have to be done, he resolves.
Almost as if hearing an echo of a song from years past, Gristav smiles faintly at Tendal's worrying at his trousers and ruffs. "Notikinolandri", Gris punctuates, twisting a knot of mana through the mud, and waving away the worrisome whatever.
"It's in most books.", Gristav presumes. "Mine, at least. But you needn't prepare it, any day I have. Very glad to help, and very good not to have our trappings tell our tracks."
Prestidigitation
Gris also spells himself clear of whatever woes have clung, then similarly works on his fellows, if they permit.
Having made their way up, "Alright, let's get out of here and find us a place to settle in for the night. Hopefully we can make it there alive," he deadpans. Moving to the nearest opening, he peeks out to see who, if anybody, might be lurking about.
Braddon approaches the door and just barely cracks it enough to peer out. The edge of the clearing with its thick cover is reassuringly near, and he sees no one; but both he and Snake can hear the sound of voices from the north and east, presumably from near the tower and the path leading back to the caravari.
The whole group knows, from their earlier passage through, that the western and southern walls of the building they're in both are very near the edge of the forest and provide cover from the rest of the clearing. There are no doors on those sides of the building, but there are boarded-up windows in the western wall. There are also holes in the rickety roof, and even the space between the westernmost door and the trees offers at least partial cover from the east.
Braddon eases the door open further and looks about.
With a finger over his lips to the others, Braddon steps outside when it's safe and eases himself carefully into the underbrush.
He motions for the others to follow and begins heading carefully into the forest away from the voices. Braddon takes his time, and even clears aside some dry twigs in his wake to help others avoid stepping on them.
Willing himself toward faith- in his fellows, first, then Fortune... Gris follows.
Phillip motions the others forwards, adding "I'll come up last... make sure that no-one follows before joining you."
Snake nods to the halfling before following after the others.
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Willing himself toward faith- in his fellows, first, then Fortune...
Gristav was so pleased with the silence of his exeunt-scene, he nearly exclaimed in delight. Nearly.
Tendal frowns faintly at Gristav's implication of his own incompetence. Ah. Never mind. Gristav thinks merely of the dirt, not the worn patch on my left knee, or the bit of torn lace at my wrist. It is simply beyond him. Smugly safe in his cultural superiority, Tendal follows Snake out into the daylight, stepping very cautiously.
Braddon leads the way out the door of the ruined building and into the undergrowth. There he pauses, crouching, holding back the branches of a low-growing shrub to clear a way for the rest of the group.
Snake and Gristav follow. Low voices can be heard from somewhere on the far side of the tower annex, undoubtedly near where the bodies were discovered, but no one seems disposed to creep closer and try to overhear.
When Tendal exits, the tip of his boot accidentally kicks a small rock, which rattles against the wall of the building: a tiny sound, but one that causes both Braddon and Phillip to tense up and hold their breaths, straining for the sound of someone coming to investigate, but the party's luck seems to hold.
Phillip brings up the rear, as silent as a cat in a cloak of elvenkind. Once the entire group is in the forest, Braddon slowly unbends the branches he had been holding back so that they return to their place without a rustle. Taking the lead, he painstakingly searches the five feet in front of him before taking every step, clearing twigs and rocks out of the way before they can snap under someone's foot.
The group advances through the forest at an agonizing crawl, their progress retarded both by the thick undergrowth and by their attempts at moving silently. By the time they break out of the edge of the forest, almost on the banks of the Chavali, it feels as if they have been inching through the woods for hours. The river is wide here, near the mouth. Roderic's Cove, despite its squalor, looks terribly inviting, between its amenities and its anonymity, but the ford is well north of their current location. They can trudge back upriver and cross easily, but the ford may be being watched by Marzo's men by now. Or they can attempt the crossing here, get more wet and bedraggled, but avoid the well-traveled ford and arrive in town the sooner.
Sighing, "Well, bubs, it looks like we're going swimming. Unless one of you has a better idea."
"After crawling through that forest, I could certainly use a swim."
Braddon looks to the others.
"You can swim, right? If not, Snake can take one end of a rope, I'll hold the other and you can pull yourselves across."
"Setting up some sort of rope line from our strongest swimmer would be prudent. I, while not having an aversion to water, do not have the finest swimming stroke and cannot guarantee that I will not be swept some distance downstream." Tendal says, motioning toward the river with his cane.
"Perhaps that tree over there?" he suggests, pointing at a sturdy looking specimen on the opposite bank.
Nodding, "Alright, let's get this over with. I'll take the rope and tie it off so the rest of you can make it over." Taking off his jacket and his hat, he stuffs them within his pack and rolls up his sleeves. Grabbing one end of the rope while Braddon hangs on to the other, he steps down into the water and begins his way across - Lucky riding atop his head as he does.
Phil just eyes the water with skeptic and raised eyebrow before muttering joy sotto voce. He watches and waits, clearly intending to not be the guinea pig of the operation... but if Tendal makes it across then he can surely manage it?...
Snake finds the water surprisingly refreshing after the crawl through the forest, and the river is certainly cleaner than the Velashu as it flows through Riddleport. The Chavali is wide here as it starts to open into the Varisian Gulf, but the current isn't terribly strong. Snake successfully completes the crossing and climbs, dripping, up the bank to tie the rope off on the tree Tendal spotted.
"Off you go."
Braddon shakes the rope as if to encourage the others.
"I'll bring up the rear."
He sniggers inappropriately, but then glances back over his shoulder into the woods.
"Phillip, I cannot claim I'm a strong swimmer, but with the rope, I'm confident. As it's twice the distance, hand-over-hand, I propose we cross together, another rope between us, over the line, so that any loss of either's grip might salvaged by the other. That's not a charity; it's a recognition, of your importance."
With the guideline to pull themselves along, Tendal, Gristav, and Phillip all manage to cross the river, though if Tendal thought his clothing was in disarray before, the swim across the Chavali leaves him in even greater despair for his wardrobe. The four stand dripping on the western bank of the river as Braddon prepares to cross.
Braddon ties his end of rope about himself and starts out across the river.
"Thank you, Snake.", Gristav says when again close enough not to shout.
While Braddon busies at readying to cross, Gristav prestidigitates Tendal, either dampish or dry as time allows, leaving himself for after Braddon's crossing, and the others for after judging their reaction to the rote remedying rune.
Once Braddon's belayed and crossing, Gristav moves to the tree and the rope, slacking a loop around the trunk, and settling into the loop and then back down the bank, letting leverage and his own weight help haul Braddon across.
Braddon wades into the river as far as he can before the bottom falls away from beneath his feet, then swims for the other side. The rope tied around his waist, ironically, trips him up as the current wraps the slack around his legs, but he is able to kick free and pull himself back toward the western bank, where Snake meets him with a firm hand up and out of the water.
Tendal nods thanks at Gristav's quick use of magic as Braddon finishes his crossing.
"Let's make haste back to town. I think we are a mite too exposed out here to any passing vagrants." Tendal says.
The group of men walk up the stretch of coast that separates the mouth of the Chavali from the port of Roderic's Cove. The late afternoon sun is low over the shabby rooftops of the town, and the breeze off the gulf is brisk. They arrive back in the grimy and narrow streets of the Cove, feeling much the worse for wear for their trek through the forest and swim across the river. Tendal remembers his standing invitation to dine with the Port Governor with long-suffering, unable even to contemplate entering Jess Gildersleeve's home in such a bedraggled state.
Tendal nods thanks at Gristav's quick use of magic as Braddon finishes his crossing.
"Let's make haste back to town. I think we are a mite too exposed out here to any passing vagrants." Tendal says.
Nodding in agreement, "Let's move."
"While cantips are useful for cleaning, they do nothing for the everyday wear and tear of clothing. I feel that I will need a new wardrobe, or some better spells. Something for both cleaning and repair. I simply cannot join the Governor in this unfortunate state." Tendal muses aloud, picking at the torn ruffle at his sleeve.
"At least my jacket is in good shape. I will have to see if I can get my sleeve mended and then endeavor to keep my jacket on during dinner."
"There are enough sailors in this town that it is very likely I will find someone with some ability to throw a passible stitch."
"Some have an Art for Mending, but it's always eluded me...", Gristav says, sure that Tendal could navigate any ambiguity.
"While I recognize your reticence to return to the ready repast and convivial company of Captain and Madame Mayor, in your dire dishabille... Do not dismiss, duty's due, and good work done, arguably in her interest, of her interest, and paying potential dividends."
Summarizing, Gristav asks simply, smirking, "Don't we owe Her Honor a report?"
"Does she do good food?" Braddon adds to Gristav's question.
"I expect she eats well."
The men find that their rather grimy and bedraggled garb merely helps them blend in with the other men on the streets as they make their way back toward the inn. As they enter the Fish and Fortune, however, Harvey Read is sitting at the same table he had the night before; he notes the difference in Tendal's previously dapper appearance and offers the wizard a grin and a sardonic tip of the hat.
Tendal nods a quiet acknowledgement to Read as he heads to the rented room.
Slime. I wonder if he had anything to do with the...friendly welcome that we had at the camp. Likely, but there is little enough that I can do to him.
"I must remember that causing a ruckus is not in our best interest. he says, under his breath as he tiredly climbs the stairs.