After a bit of a shocked delay, one human came forward and volunteered to help with cooking. He said they didn't have all of those things, but they at least had the potatoes, butter, and bread.
With the help of the human and Mo, Ziphora prepares a pretty sumptious feast for the hydras, and their human friends. "Come on guys! Try my latest creation, Stuffed firedrake roasted over a hickorywood fire!" She promotes her latest creation shamelessly.
She turns to Sir Tolgrith, "See? I've been picking up new things while travelling. I might jolly well be the only cooking hydrahead in Golarion."
"Did you know I can sing too?" She doesn't wait for an invitation, but just starts singing.
"It's off to eating drakes we go,
It's off to eating drakes we go.
The drakes are really yummy,
And it will help us all to grow."
Ziphora makes a much better cook then a singer really, since she's bawling raucously without any considerations to tone.
It turns out that roasting fire drake is really tricky, given their innate resistance to fire, but between Ziphora, Mo, and Orrend (the cook), a surprisingly delicious feast slowly takes shape. While at first the humans seem hesitant to try it, the reactions of the first few to try some soon convince the rest to join in.
"So, could you tell us on what happened since we left? I mean why did the firedrakes start dive bombing you lot?" Ziphora asks inquisitively.
"We chased off the bugbears, had a great party with lizards, who gave us some tablets that we used to find the scepter of rulership, that my brother,"She looks at Tomorbataar, "Is still trying to figure out. I've also been promoted to second in command of the hydraheads, as Tom says, because I can clean him up."
She pauses for a moment. "Though, the rest of the hydraheads don't really listen when I tell them not to shoot fleeing foes in the back, and oh the other day we managed to do a real cool hydra jump together. Would you like us to show that you?" She rambles on happily.
Beachhead does what he can to describe the funk he's feeling to anyone who will listen. Even the other heads.
*snicker*
Tomorbataar eats heartily from the fire drake, enjoying the vegetables, and not contesting allowing the humans to eat from it. After all, they were integral to the formation of the drake trap. Our jump was low, but heavy. With more practice, we could shatter anything we land on.
Tomorbataar places the mysterious rod back in the bed, looking dissapointed. I suppose we shall have to wait until we've constructed a suitable palace to find a good use for this rod. Such a shame... Tomorbataar looks down at the ground, only perking his head back up at Beachhead's words.
I should like to make a catalog of ailments and affiliations, describing them in detail and listing their causes and concerns. If you could describe specifically how it feels, any variation in that, and precisely how it felt as it was coming on, I could begin an entry. Tomorbataar looks proud of this idea. Pen and papers, please? He says, genuinely asking the humans, as opposed to commanding them as he normally does.
Hungry sighs in disappointment as they descend but he quickly forgets about the drakes as he feasts ravenously on the corpses of it's former allies.
As the heads begin to talk around Hungry looks around for Tolgrith.
Hungry approaches him, "Hey, Sir Tolgrith! Several of us have sustained some energy drain from some undead that we fought. Is there anyone here who has the magical abilities to heal us of it? If so, where are they?!"
Before Sir Torlgrith can answer, another man speaks up. "I can do something about that, but it is expensive, and I can only help one of you a day."
"We'll count it as your next reward for helping us," Sir Torlgrith adds.
Well, Torlgrith, Tomorbataar begins, using a sweet voice, If you help to clean it out of our system and it would take a frightfully dreadful person not to want to remove such a vile substance from ones so radiant with light as ourselves we'll be in a better position to help you out in the future. What if we were to meet another hydra, just like us, only unsullied? Who would you rather win? Tomorbataar looks at Torlgrith with a steady gaze, trying to gauge his reaction.
"Our priest here," Sir Torlgrith nods at the man who'd spoken up, "Will help you now, though as he said he can only do one a day. It will just count as the reward for the next thing you do for us."
He looks over the heads. "Which ones of you need it?"
"Id vote Beachead, but him and hungry could toss dice for it, just to be fair." Ziphora suggests.
Beachhead slithers down so that he's eye level with Sir Torlgrith.
"Hungry and I need it. Your priest will help Hungry first, and that will count as part of our reward for defeating three fire drakes that were destroying your camp, putting out the fires the drakes set in your camp, and sharing Ziphora's wonderful feast with you and your men.
"The next day your priest will help me, and that will count as part of a reward for the next problem of yours we take care of."
Beachhead's voice is quiet and has lost its usual carefree tone.
Yes...what he said Tomorbataar says, happy to let someone else do the talking. So long as we can be free of this contagion...
After the've finished talking to Torlgrith, Tomorbataar looks around at the others. So, what next?
I LOVE it when my siblings do work for me. But just to be safe...
"Yes, this drain robs me of my strongest spells, which will definitely make doing jobs for you easier."
Perfect now to wait, patiently.
Sir Torlgrith frowns. If he's intimidated by Beachhead, he's doing a good job of hiding it.
"True, we do owe you for today. I suppose healing you would be our payment for the drakes. For tomorrow's task, we can discuss other payments. In specific, every month the creek here runs foul, clouded by some sort of contamination. It's not a terrible problem, as we can store enough water for the day, but it will be a problem for caravans traveling the road after it's complete. We'd like you to follow the stream until you find whatever's fouling the water and solve it."
He pauses a moment, then adds, "We suspect it's either some kind of creature or some sort of magic, either of which you'd be equipped to solve."
"Yeah we'd be happy to look into your problem. I mean fair's fair, you know?"Ziphora answers. "And probably have to deal with it with extreme prejudice and brute force, since most people whom I try to talk to don't talk nicely back."
Tomorbataar sounds sorrowful, A contaminated stream fouling the countryside? Sounds like a big deal to me, why didn't you inform us earlier?
"Because it only happens one day a month and they don't know what causes it, and they had more pressing concerns that they did know the cause of."
Turning back to Sir Torlgrith, "Your commitment to healing both Hungry and myself before we go upstream is very reasonable, and I commend you on your reasonableness. And I'm doing so here in front of all of your men so that they'll respect you more! We'll depart when the funk is gone from both me and Hungry.
"Does the creek's contamination happen at the same time every month? If so, how long until the next time it should happen?"
Sir Torlgrith nods. "It happens at the same time every month, yes. It will happen tomorrow, and it lasts all day. That is why we hadn't brought it up before."
"Yeah lets go kick that stream polluting thing's @rse." Ziphora says, then looks at Sir Tolgrith sadly. "I've changed right? I mean last time I'd be saying we'd negotiate..."
Vote to move out tomorrow
"Mind if we turn in here for the night?" Ziphora asks Sir Tolgrith, "Do you have some kind of decent sleeping quarters, maybe the stables? If we sleep outdoors, Tom's going to be yattering my head off the next morning because, you know, dirt?"
"That's why Moe carries the bed, Ziphora. But yes, let's investigate tomorrow morning."
Beachhead starts urging the body to go settle down near any visible command tent that he's aware of.
"Yeah, its a long day, lets go to bed." Once they reach there, "Good night, good night. Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs bite." She then puts her head down to sleep.
Ziphora urges the body to the nest and zzz.
Even still, I should think it would demand immediate attention, in case we could do something about it straight away. It's not like leaving a stream like that won't do all sorts of terrible things. Tomorbataar looks a bit concerned, but seems to have calmed down.
As they settle down, Tomorbataar once again inspects the bed. Sure is good that it hasn't rained yet. Would hate to have some wet and rotting sheets. Tomorbataar then lays his head down softly on the bed, secure in the knowledge that no god would strike them down just before clearing out a stream.
Tomorbataar votes to sleep and then eat in the morning.
Beachhead votes to lie down wherever and sleep.
You head over to your 'nest' and sleep. You're undisturbed during the night.
The next day dawns dark and gloomy, with thick clouds in the sky. After gorging yourself last night, you aren't particularly hungry in the morning, but there are plenty of drake leftovers in Mo's crate, and more at the fort.
Ziphora nom noms the drake leftovers, then complains about the horrible state of the weather, "You know what? I like sunny days. Rain just gets me down in dumps."
Vote to head out to the stream
Vote to head to the stream and follow it upriver.
You head out towards the stream, Mo in tow behind you. It doesn't take long to reach the stream, and it looks disgusting. Billowing clouds of something rusty-red-brown flow down it, accompanied by an awful odor.
Utterly disgusted and revolted by the devastation that the creature has wrecked upon the stream, Ziphora taunts,"All right, whatever stinky thing you are, come out and face us if you've got balls!"
Assuming nothing answers Ziphora, Beachhead suggests that they keep following the water upstream.
Rain is good, and bad. Rain rinses the world, but turns it to mud. Rain falls beautifully from the heavens, but becomes fouled when it arrives here on earth, not the rain's fault, just the ground it's landing on. Tomorbataar looks off into the distance sagely.
Tomorbataar wrinkles his nose, looking around for a scrap of cloth to wrap his face in. Hmm...not good. Better follow upstream.
Tomorbataar votes to follow the river and confront the beast.
Nothing immediately responds to Ziphora's threat. Indeed, as you lumber upstream, you don't see much of anything around, save for distant movements in the underbrush.
You polish off the leftover drake Mo brought sometime around noon. A couple of hours and a few miles later, you see a small rise in the ground. The stream flows down over this rise in a small waterfall. Up on top of the rise, it forms a large pond... by the side of which, ghostly figures are locked in combat. Their features are vague, and their battle is silent, but it looks rather like one side is steadily wiping out the other, while the losing side is desperately looking for a chance to break through and escape. Where the dead fall, they dissolve into a reddish-brown glop that flows into the pond and from there into the stream.
Beachhead hides and votes to move the body forward.
[dice=Stealth (aka "Bravely hiding")]1d20+7[/dice]
"Ghosts...argh geez this is NOT good news. I'd rather face a try-to-eat-your-face monster." Ziphora sighs.
"You see, the problem with ghosts is that they can't die, since they're already dead. We need to talk to them to see what their anchor is, here, before they can move on. Sometimes a little history of the place is good as well." Ziphora remarks.
"People in battles don't tend to want to stop and talk. I bet if we killed the attackers, the losers will escape and then stop funking up the water.
"I'm probably an expert on this."
"That is NOT the point. These are spirits trapped here. BOTH sides need to find a way to move on." Ziphora argues resolutely. "Sure, we could kill them, at next week, they'll rise again, and repeat the whole matter. It wouldn't solve ANYTHING."
Just a Mort
