The sun rises over the quiet, coastal town of Sandpoint in Varisia in the middle of springtime. Life is relatively normal in Sandpoint, except for a recent string of rather aggressive goblin attacks in the surrounding areas.
Because of this, and because the city watch can't afford to send patrols into the trackless Brinestump Marsh, Sheriff Belor Hemlock has restored Sandpoint's old "goblin bounty" after a few years of inactivity. The town of Sandpoint will pay 10 gp for every relatively fresh goblin ear delivered to the town hall—with an additional reward of 300 gp for the
group who can bring in the head of the leader of the Licktoad goblins (the tribe making the recent attacks), Chief Gutwad.
Sheriff Hemlock invited those interested to meet him at the Rusty Dragon for a bit of advice and marching orders. Eight adventurers have arrived, yet the sheriff is so far a no-show.
Terwin entered the tavern wearing a grin more suited to a little boy doing something he shouldn't than to a wizard - his mother would doubtless disapprove, hence the grin. He was forced to stoop to avoid the door frame, but by now this was habitual, and made his way over to the woman standing proprietarily behind the bar.
"Excuse me? Good day, are you well? Uh, I am, and I'm also, ah, Terwin, yes, Terwin Thanderghast? I'm here for the, ah, thing with the goblins, meeting the, ah, Sheriff Hemlock?"
After a deal of good natured ribbing, and a great deal of blushing from Terwin, he found himself directed over to a large table near the hearth. Making his way over he beamed at those gathered there, sweeping his blond hair back out of his eyes and giving a tenative wave,
"Uh, good day to you all, I'm Terwin, a, um, Wizard. I look forward to working with you all, let's give those goblins a jolly good thrashing shall we?"
Navarro entered the Rusty Dragon cautiously, looking around as if afraid of meeting someone he was trying to avoid. Relaxing, he walked up to the bar; drying sand falling from his clothing scrunched under his boots as he walked. He asked for Sheriff Hemlock at the bar, but the barmaid shook her head and pointed to a table over by the hearth.
He dropped his pack by the wall, flipped his cape, hat and magnificent duelling sword over the back of a chair. He rubbed his hands in the heat of the fire and grinned at everyone else there. Then he extended his hand.
"Good morning! I'm Navarro Nedraid. Are you part of the Goblin bounty hunt as well?"
Cyrus is already in the Rusty Dragon, watching the new arrivals from his position near the hearth. "Greetings," he says to each of those who chose to sit at his table before going back to people watching.
Daren steps into the tavern and sets his bow and quiver by the door, not caring to sit down upon them if he gets the good chair he hopes to find. Looking about the tavern, he gives a nod to those about.
"I was sent from Magnimar to help a Sheriff Hemlock with some problems around town...anyone know where I can find him?"
After his question he slides into the nicest free chair there is and loosens his boots, weary from his long trip.
"Sorry, I thought he would be here already." Navarro said, relaxing in front of the fire. He looked at the others who had drinks with some envy. He put his hand to his flat belt pouch, then pulled it away again.
A slender man sweeps into the Rusty Dragon, well-presented with groomed hair and piercing blue eyes. A small thrust nestles in his hood, watching the room with interest and occasionally ruffling its feathers. The man pauses for a moment and gives the inhabitants of the room an appraising look before breaking out into an easy smile.
"Greetings. I assume that you are here to meet with Sheriff Hemlock? I am Jarryn Silvertongue, a travelling merchant and dabbler in the arcane arts. I believe there is a bounty for each goblin ear gained? This shall help increase my float a touch," Jarryn says in a rich baritone.
A young half-elf walks in shortly after Jarryn, fussing with a thin leather strap tied around his hairline. He is dressed in hardened leathers and sturdy trousers, and has a blacksmith's apron tossed over one shoulder. At Jarryn's words, he comes to a stop, the braids he was attempting to tie in place falling loose along either side of his head.
"Old man Hemlock isn't here yet?" he blurts, before shaking his head and smiling briefly. "Sorry, just surprised. Figured he be waiting to size all the prospectives up. And I need to give him this...never mind, I'm being rude. Hello all! He shifts the apron to a more comfortable position before continuing. "Lukas Halvson. I guess we're all to go hunting today then?"
Terwin beams at all the new faces,
"Oh, pleased to meet you Navarro! I'm Terwin, and yes I hope to be involved in the hunt, though I've little experience with such things. And I'm an arcanist to, so its especially nice to meet you Jarryn, maybe we can swap note some time, though I'm afraid my speciality is only air magic. And yes, I'd certainly like to tag along if you'll all have me, I think I can make myself useful, Lukas right, well met."
Lastly he turns to the archer,
"Oh, I'm from Magnimar to! I didn't catch your name Sir, might we have it?"
Looking over to Terwin, he nods, "Oh...was there some sort of call out to others? Sheriff Hemlock requested aid of the Watch in Magnimar, and I was who they sent. Guardsmen Daren Varkon, at the Sheriff's service, once he arrives," he says as he gives a little wave. "Forgive me for not getting up, I walked the entire way and it's nice to sit in a real chair for a change. Oh, and you can call me 'Chance', everyone does eventually."
"Really, why?" Terwin asks, cocking his head and raising an inquiring eyebrow,
"And, um, no, I mean, well, not a formal call as such, there's just the bounty and this extra coin for dealing with this Chief Gutwad and the Sheriff wanted to talk to those willing to try for it, I believe."
Jarryn nods at Terwin.
"I cast my spells spontaneously, rather than studying a book to memorise them, but I'd be more than willing to compare notes," Jarryn says as he sits at a nearby table. Sparktail flits from his hood and settles on one of the rafters, evidently studying everyone in the room.
"Excuse my familiar, Sparktail, he's a very inquisitive fellow," Jarryn says with a smile.
"Oh, you have a familiar to! I left mine, Wilberforce, outside, um, he can be a trifle, ah, undiplomatic? I confess I've always been rather envious of Sorcerers, I love my books, but they do serve as something of an anchor."
Terwin responds, bright eyes following the thrush.
"Yes, although I understand that most sorcerers do not have familiars; I put it down to my training with an Osiriani wizard while travelling with my first caravan," Jarryn states, holding up his hand for Sparktail to land on. The inquisitve little bird lands and continues to watch the others.
Lukas seems content to listen to the others converse as he works on his ale, but the conversation on familiars sparks his curiosity. "Undiplomatic? Are familiars usually chatty?" he asks the two arcanists.
Terwin grits his teeth while exhaling,
"Only some birds, its pretty unusual actually, but ravens, parrots, and I would venture to guess thrush's? Jarryn, Sparktail, care to field that one? And as for Wilberforce, well he's... A bit of a sarcastic pervert, just, ah, don't eat chicken around him, it'll put you off for life."
Sparktail sings before flitting back to Jarryn's hood.
"No, I'm afraid that Sparktail doesn't speak, although he does possess a spectacular singing voice," Jarryn says with a smile.
Nodding to Terwin, [b]"Everyone seems to have their own reason ta call me 'Chance', but eventually they all find one. I like to think it's because I'll give anyone a chance to redeem themselves...As my goddess says...Everyone gets a second chance." He then leans back to listen to the rest of the conversations, his eyes flicker to the door from time to time, awaiting Hemlock.
A horrifically scarred woman enters the tavern. She is dressed in simple trousers and a hooded tunic.
If I am to live in this town, I will need an income. This bounty is a blessing from Heaven. No more will I fetch and carry.
Seeing that there was already a throng assembling, she makes her way over towards them an sits down at the table of the quiet man (Cyrus). Those others talk to much, and their tongue did not come easily to her twisted lips.
A thin, rather pale Varisian man enters the tavern, dressed conspicuously (for a Varisian) in a simple grey robe with a simple staff in one hand. His shoulder-length black hair is tied back with a strip of cloth, and flecks of grey can be seen near his temples. Most striking, is the faint but easily noticed scar covering the left side of his face: a branching, swirling pattern vaguely reminiscent of lightning arcing through the sky. His golden eyes take in the scene with an excited curiosity that belies his subdued appearance.
Orren walks to the bar to inquire about Sheriff Hemlock and the goblin bounty. The barmaid points him to the corner where an eclectic group of adventurers awaits the Sheriff's arrival. Orren asks for a flagon of the house wine, having learned long ago the effect drink can have on a first impression. "..And it's a good idea to be on good terms with those who will be watching each others' backs. Gods know Nethys is always in need of coin for their duties." He thinks to himself as his stomach gently rumbles. "As do I." He thinks with a grin, and asks for a bowl of stew as well.
Striding over to the group, Orren takes a free seat with some table space. "I suppose you are all here to see Sheriff Hemlock, yes?" He asks amicably. "Well met. I am Orren Idleveil, devotee of Nethys and seeker of knowledge. Surely a group such as this will have no problems protecting Sandpoint from these goblins, provided we can combine our efforts effectively," he states with a humble confidence. "I overheard mention of Magnimar. I wonderful city, if I do say myself. I've lived there all my life, and still haven't seen half the locale has to offer... Ah, and here's the wine." he states as the barmaid brings over a flagon of red wine with some cups. He pours himself a glass. "Please," he says, gesturing for everyone to partake if desired.
Cyrus nods to the scarred woman when she sits down at his table, giving her a smile.
Jia gives the quiet man a shy smile and nod.
Navarro brightens as the pitcher arrives and he quickly pours himself a cup. He drinks deeply and smacks his lips in appreciation; the best he's had in quite some time.
"Ah, that hit the spot!" He said, then held his hand out to Orren. "Thank you for your generosity sir. I am Navarro, and pleased to meet you."
Terwin declines the wine, excited enough already, and waves and smiles at the newcomers, concerned he may have talked too much already I do tend to be long winded, maybe I should pursue the path of silence for a time.
Orren gently shakes Navarro's hand. "Likewise." the older man says with a smile. "You seem a capable young man. I'll be glad to have you around once our journey commences." He pauses to take a sip out of his own cup, setting it down as a contented smile briefly flashes across his face. "So, what brings you to Sand Point?"
Navarro shakes Orren's hand vigorously.
"You are very complimentary to someone you just met." He said skeptically. "Nevertheless, I thank you and hope to show you all that I am worthy of your generous words."
He takes another drink.
"As for what brings me to Sandpoint, well that is a lengthy tale. The short answer is Pirates." He looks innocent as he savors another drink of the house wine.
"Merely a statement of fact," he says casually. "You have the figure of a swordsman, and your movements suggest a man who knows how to use one." He pauses for another sip. "In my experience, the ability to take a quick measure of new acquaintances is a valuable asset. Sadly, performance in arms is not my expertise," he says, idly swirling the wine in his cup, "and I appreciate having those nearby who do."
His eyes light up at Navarro's last word. "Pirates, you say?" Orren's head tilts almost imperceptibly to one side. "Certainly not the typical answer in Sandpoint. You'll have to tell me when we have the time for a proper tale." He finishes the last of his wine, placing the cup back on the table and interlacing his fingers on his lap. "Quite grand, hearing new stories," he says with a slightly distant look in his golden eyes.
After another ten minutes of waiting, a strong-jawed Shoanti man enters the Rusty Dragon. He nods to the bartender before walking over to your table.
"My apologies for being late," the man booms in a deep voice. "I am Sheriff Hemlock, and I assume you are all hear to take advantage of our newly reinstated goblin bounty."
Without looking around for an answer, he continues.
"I know little of the Brinestump Marsh, as it has never been sufficiently mapped—at least by us. I do know two things: the first, that the Licktoad goblins live somewhere in the marsh and that they have been causing us problems, and second, that there is a halfling that lives in the marsh who goes by the name Walthus Proudfoot. He knows that marsh better than anyone, and might be able to help you find your way around. How to find him, however, is again something I know little about."
"I have little time, but if you have any questions, ask them now."
Terwin raises a hand, flushing as the Sheriff looks to him,
"Ah, do you know anyone who might know how to find Master Proudfoot? How far away is the Brinestump Marsh? What is the marsh like, is it overgrown, or mostly open stretches? Uh, is there usually enough firm ground to make your way, or should we expect to become sodden?"
Lukas cocks his head to the side and shrugs. "Proudfoot? If he's in the Hitherlands, I can't imagine that he hasn't crossed paths with Shalelu a time or two, but I don't know if she's around as of now." He shoots a hopeful look at Sheriff Hemlock and asks, "Don't suppose you've heard from her recently? Oh, and Sheriff Hemlock, Savah said to give you this, it's some estimates on getting your men re-equipped." He rustles through his pockets for a second, then narrows his eyes and pokes through his belt pouch to pull out a folded piece of paper and hands it to Hemlock.
Standing up as Hemlock reveals himself, he appears to go to attention.
"Sir, I am the assistance you requested from Magnimar. They thought that I might be of some assistance in your time of need, though they only gave me the orders to come and meet with you and do what was needed."
He doesn't move, with his boots loosened, it would probably be a bad idea.
"It's ten gold for an ear and three hundred for the chief's head, shared among the whole group, yes?" Cyrus speaks to confirm the bounty. His voice is smooth and not loud yet remains audible to the whole room. "And I don't suppose you have a first name, sir Hemlock? I like to be on a first-name basis with my clients."
Jia watches these exchanges silently. She had no quarrel with the goblins, but this seems to be a world where the strong preyed upon the weak. Where the color of one's skin or the shape of one's body determine whether one was a monster or not. So be it. I will not starve.
Along with others, Navarro requests a map or a guide to find Master Proudfoot's dwelling.
Orren sits and listens attentively, nodding gently at the suggestion of tracking down Walthus Proudfoot.
The sheriff nods at Cyrus.
"Yes, the bounty is shared among those who bring them back—it's up to you who that is. The name's Belor, if you'll have it."
Looking around and considering the questions, he continues.
"If you take Old Coast Road out of Sandpoint, I've heard there's a fishing trail that leads into the swamp. You shouldn't become too sodden, but it isn't completely dry either—I've never been in. It is exceedingly overgrown though. I'm not sure if Proudfoot's house is on that trait, but it very well might be."
Brinestump Marsh is a relatively small region, but it’s fantastically overgrown with vegetation. Given the frequent stretches of muddy bogs and snaking waterways, moving through the marsh is a tiring and frustrating procedure. The marsh itself is bounded on its southern edge by a cliff
that rises an average of 40 feet from the wetlands below to the moors above.
Brinestump Marsh extends just over 2 miles at its widest point (measuring from the southwest to the northeast). The wetland is a tangle of nettles, reeds, and other swamp plants often supplemented by larger vegetation—cypress, eucalyptus, oak, and willow trees mostly. The aptly named Soggy River is the primary waterway that flows through Brinestump.
Jia Li stands when the sheriff is finished speaking and goes to begin to bargain with the innkeeper for food and water for a several days in the swamp. When that is done she will return to the tables where the would be bounty-hunters have gathered.
"I am ready."
Terwin shrugs grinning,
"Yes I'm for just heading in, it's not that big and the more goblins we find the better - supposing we do not find them in numbers sufficient to overwhelm us. It would make sense for Master Proudfoot's home to be on or near the trail, I say we get stuck in!"
Orren speaks softly after the Sheriff finishes and other questions are asked. "It may be wise to acquire a few provisions before heading out. I do not know much of Brinestump, but journeying in swamps is rarely a pleasant affair-- Even less so when goblins are involved." He shifts slightly in his chair. "Locating this Proudfoot fellow seems a prudent first maneuver."
"Well, I have no pressing engagements, let us be off!" Navarro said, after first checking his empty purse.
"It's gonna be a dirty trip." Lukas cautions, remembering a few misadventures he'd had chasing Shalelu through the muck. "Not a lot of paths animals didn't make, and most of those are half underwater anyways. It's small though, so at least it shouldn't be more than a day or two to clear it up." He turns his head off to the side, as though listening to someone speak, then adds, "Might want to bring an extra pair of boots."
Navarro raised an eyebrow at Lukas.
"Well, I thought as much when he said 'Swamp'." He said as he knocked his boot against the mantel and poured some sand out.
"The sooner we leave the sooner we'll be back for a hot bath." He said as he slid his boot on again.
"I agree. Best leave while it's early in the day." Cyrus pushes his chair back and stands. "I don't think we have any other questions, Sheriff."
"Yes, don't worry too much about getting wet, as long as we can find a dry patch I can prestidigitate everyone clean and dry - its not so bad being wet if you know you have a means of cleaning off at hand. Let's go!"
Hurrying outside Terwin whistles and there is a answering discordant squawk and a large green parrot with a red patch atop his beak lands upon the young wizard's shoulder,
"Blimey Ter you always calls me at the worst times, that crow was giving me the eye, you know what they say about crows... They'll eat anything, hur hurr hurr."
"Um, what? Wilberforce just, ah, try to be less yourself? And I keep telling you, you cannot have offspring with a bird of another species..."
"And I keep telling you your missing the point! Just like that poor crow, hur hur hurr."
"Is there anything else you can tell us about the Licktoads, sheriff? Common tactics, numbers estimates or the like? Preparation is key, I find." Beyond that, Orren has no other questions.
When Terwin's parrot flies down to join him, Orren comments when he hears the bird speak. "Quite the interesting companion you have there." He says with a calm yet genial smile. "Are his species native to the region? I don't believe I've seen one quite like him before." Turning his head slightly to face the parrot, he says "Though perhaps I should be addressing you directly?"
"No, not native, my mother runs the aviaries at the Lord Mayor's Menagerie and I got Wilberforce as a tenth birthday present - it was educational. He's quite a bit older than me, and, ah, rather more worldly," Terwin replies apologetically.
"You can address me if ya like, I don't mind. Any donations in the form of biscuits, pastries, or crackers are also greatly appreciated."
"Sorry."
Outside, Navarro goggles at the parrot.
"Cayden's beard! I've only ever seen one like that before; one of the pirates had one. Mean as hell and swore like a sailor."
The sheriff replies curtly:
"Goblins have no tactics. They scream and attack, with little to no regard for their own well being. Be prepared for anything."
With that, he stands up and exits.
Orren chuckles softly at the wizard and his parrot. "This should be quite interesting."