Felrin listens to the peculiar tale Tkaara begins to spin, wondering just what the outcome will be. What if he asks why we were doing any of that? When will she learn that a simple story is best, and invites fewer questions?
As the others contribute to the yarn, Felrin quietly studies Thraam, evaluating where he stands and what he’s after. At the same time, he returns the man’s evil smile, not with intent to frighten, simply to give as good as he gets. ”Ah, profit from strangers,” Felrin agrees, ”it can indeed work out well for both parties. Perhaps you could let us know a bit about your business, while we’re having this nice talk?”
Thraam smiles again. "I might be able to help with that - why don't you let me have a list of what you're after, and I'll let you know what it'll cost you?"
He listens to Tkaara's story. "Treasure hunters, hm? They say the hills in the Caer Bryr are full of treasure. Could be. Shame nobody ever comes out of there alive. But if you survived the North, maybe you'd have a chance." He shrugs. It's really not his problem.
He looks at Erevan. "Nice thought, there's always use for some muscle that can think but won't ask too many questions. But nobody works in this town without the Baron's say-so. We're a pretty lawless lot," he admits with a smile, "but there's some sticking points. That's one of 'em."
"The Baron?" Etna asks, curious if he was the same Baron as the one they were supposed to meet in a few days.
I shouldn't be surprised of it if he's willing to deal with us, but it seems this Baron Vandermir actually has his hands in the city underworld, then. Interesting...
”The baron even weighs in on the ‘lawless’ side of things?” Felrin asks, one eyebrow arched. ”This may turn out to be a more interesting place than I expected. How do we go about gaining the Baron’s, mm, blessing to work here in town?”
Laying a hand on his coin pouch, he adds, ”As to our resupply, there is one somewhat unusual item I’m after. A spell that will help conceal my true beliefs about the world – the Mitrans can be real sticklers for these things. You might find such a spell useful also, though you seem to rely on hiding away here in Drownington instead.”
The establishment, as might be expected, reeked. Hells, the whole town reeked, and Ottakar is eager to get the Cardinal's dirty work out of the way quickly so that they could move on. His disguise, now that the older Varisian gentleman he had portrayed was likely wanted in connection with the downfall of Balentyne, is that of a tall but slender robed elf. As the others converse with Thraam, he stands in the back watching, listening, scowling. In other words, he is as friendly as ever.
The bald half-orc smiles at Felrin. "Nothing easier. Come back tomorrow and you'll have your scrolls. Now let's talk price."
He looks you over, assessingly. "I think we're of a like mind, so let's not waste time. For what you're looking for, it's a 10% finder's fee on top. You want more information about how things work in this town, you've come to the right place. 500 in gold gets you all the answers to your questions, and then some."
He looks at you, gauging how serious you are.
"Excellent. I'll take a couple of them off your hands," Felrin replies in relation to the scrolls. "As to your price for information, I don't see any reason to dicker, as I'm hoping the relationship is good for all involved. We'll pay your 500 gold, and I'll expect you to be good for your end of the bargain."
Thraam smiles again. "Like I said: any questions on how this place works, answered. You asked how you get the Baron's blessing to work in this town - you need to persuade him you won't upset the apple-cart. We got a nice thing going here and we don't need someone pushing it and getting the attention of the Knights of the Alerion."
He looks at you. "Any other questions you got, I'll tell you what you need to know."
"Well, as we're already talking about him, what can you tell us about about the Baron? " Etna asks "How come you got to have his permission to do business around here? Has it been like this for some time?"
Considering that we'll have to deal with him, we'll be safer be knowing something about him in advance. The Cardinal mentioned that he's aiding us out of fear of him: knowing what we can expect from him could be a boon, considering that he's not with us for adherence to our cause.
”And more generally, what’s up with this place?” Felrin adds. ”You say quite openly that you don’t want to attract the attention of the Knights of the Alerion, and it’s clear the baron is involved in whatever illicit activity you’re hiding from their sight…a little unusual for Talingarde, no?”
"Perhaps even the paragons of law and good can turn a blind eye as long as things appear to run smoothly," Erevan offers. "Or perhaps certain shadows are too deep for Mitra's light to pierce, especially when money is involved." He cannot avoid just a hint of a sneer when he speaks of Talingarde's concept of light.
The half-orc smiles. "Baron Vandermir's a half-elf, so yes, been like that for some time round here. His family is Barcan - the father was on the wrong side of the civil war, so when the Darians came to power, the Baron had to swear loyalty to the new king. Musta grated some. Still, the royalty don't come here much, so the Baron runs the underbelly of this place. Mainly through the orphanage, but he also controls a lot of the dock workers through Sir Bonder of the Beacon. Beacon Watch answers to him."
He grimaces. "Watch out for them orphans. They get most places, hear most things. Baron knows about you by now, count on it."
He looks at you. "Without the Baron's approval, you won't get much done here. Which would be a shame. Think we could do useful business."
"Orphans?" Etna raises an eyebrow "I didn't think I would hear in the same sentence something that would surprise me more than a corrupted high-ranked officer in good old Talingrade." the ifrit smiles. "Beside, what kind of 'useful business'?"
"Sounds like you think we might not get the Baron's approval," Felrin observes. "If you think that would be a shame, maybe you can give us some ideas on how best to get him to approve us doing business here? Particular trades he wants to see take off, things we should avoid, anything special we might be able to offer him to sweeten the deal? Aside from making clear we've got no love for the Darians, of course."
A faint smile creeps onto Felrin's face as he replies, "Just saying what the Baron will likely want to hear, Tkaara. Though the Darians did make Mitra the state religion, and that did little to improve my life."
Of course, I won't mention to Thraam that I was already a young man when that happened, eighty years ago. The less he knows of me, the better.
Thraal looks slightly shifty, although in fairness that's basically his default expression. "Never said you wouldn't get his approval; just pointing out how much you're gonna need it if you wanna do business here. As for what kinda business, well..." He shrugs. "You're treasure hunters, you say? The Bryr has a lot to go looking for, by all accounts, but my guess is -" he gives a quick look-over - "You ain't exactly registered or licensed archaeologists, right? Anything you find, you're gonna need to sell on the quiet, no questions asked; perhaps even shipped off to the Mainland to find a buyer, yeah?"
He gives a confident smile. "That's where I come in. Plus, if you need anything to help you go treasure-hunting, stuff that maybe isn't quite... honest... I can help you there, too. But not without the Baron's say-so. Like I said, we've got a nice thing going here; don't wanna spoil it."
"What I would say is, he doesn't like lyin' - and he's very, very good at spottin' it. Tell him straight-up what you're about and how it helps him."
Thraam shrugs. "Don't know much about him, he doesn't exactly come down here. But without his help, you've no friends here at all."
"Friends are a... useful thing to have," Erevan says softly, more or less agreeing with the half-orc.
"You mentioned your helping us find buyers for the treasures and artifacts we may uncover during our treasure-hunting," he goes on. "I assume there is a commission of sorts for such help? Because somehow I do not see our new friendship as the only reason." The hooded man smiles his thin and crooked little smile, his tone friendly and casual as is his usual way.
Thraam shrugs, shakes his head. "The Bryr? Nothing more than anyone else - it's dangerous. Some go in, few come out. Usual stories: walking trees, tigers that think like men, ancient treasure hoards."
He smiles, and spreads his scarred hands. "I deal in profit and loss - you find anything in there, I'll take it off your hands." He nods at Erevan. "Correct, silent one. 5-10% commission, or more if I'm dealing in something dangerous. I'll let you know any costs upfront - nobody likes suprises, do they?"
Thraam gained control of this place by being a ruthless, hardened killer; he maintains control of it by being shrewd and knowing where the powers in this town are. Dismissing him as a mere thug might be unwise.
"It's true, no one likes surprises," Felrin concurs, "though life is full of them." With a glance around at his companions to see if they're ready to go, he gets to his feet and says, "I'll be by tomorrow to collect those scrolls, and will think on whether there's anything else I need, or further questions I have. I look forward to doing business with you."
"As do I." Etna adds, preparing to depart.
*At some point that evening after the Forsaken have secured lodgings and are somewhat at their leisure*
The Doctor appears at Etna's shoulder while the others are occupied with their evening activities. Before she even realizes he is there, he inhales deeply and deliberately. He raises an eyebrow as she spins around with almost supernatural quickness after the initial moment of surprise. So, not the most perceptive person, but extremely quick to act once danger is perceived.
As she opens her mouth indignantly, probably to ask what the hells he thinks he is doing or some other such boring drivel, he speaks, his voice pitched low so that only she may hear. "You smell different, Fraulein. You have always smelled of ashes, but now there is something sharper. Copper? Not of blood, like Tkaara... maybe zinc. Whatever change has come over you is your own business, but I must ask: will it become a danger to the rest of us? I would urge you to not wait to disclose such matters in quite as... dramatic... a fashion as did our undead companion."
|
Still talking with Thraam:
So, other than the good Baron, who else might we want to know of in this town? Are there those who like to watch everyone and report to the authorities? Perhaps there are rumormongers who can be used to dispense stories, told with or without creative license? Maybe you have contacts who need work to be done which might be difficult for a local to undertake?
Etna freezes as she feels the doctor inhale behind her: her hair grow brighter, starting to flutter around, and she turns around to Ottakar, her eyes glowing a deep yellow. Begrudgingly, the ifrit listens to the Doctor after he interrupts her, slowly taking back her normal appearance.
"I do not plan to get buried and dig trough six feet of dirt, no." Etna replies after some brief moments of silence, keeping her voice low. "The why does not concern you, but I won't catch fire in the sun, melt in water, or reel back at mirrors like Tkaara does. I'd like it if we won't have to hear ever again that dreadful sound those archons were making, but I'm afraid Angels are something we'll be seeing a lot in the future: still, no danger to any other of you than myself. Speaking of which..." she continues, staring in the doctor's eyes "Will you be a danger to us? I couldn't help but notice that your rampages, have gotten more violent, less...discrete? I am not an expert, but rending corpses after you've killed them doesn't sound very productive. Nor charging alone a wall full of guards when we were already sure the keep would fall."
The Docter's eyes narrow, but it is obvious that the ifrit has touched upon a subject about which he, himself, is concerned. "Despite my best efforts, the Beast has only grown stronger, more blood-thirsty. It is unquestionably effective in combat, but you are wise to be wary. If ever that monster should become so uncontrollable as to be a danger to the rest of you... well, I imagine the Cardinal would not like that, and what he does not like, the B*@~+ Queen deals with. Hopefully I will perfect a medicine that will take care of matters before that happens."
He peers at her quizzically, like a bird eyeing a worm. "As for yourself, you are correct, the why is certainly not my concern, only the results. If the Beast comes to see you as a threat, things could get... messy. Whatever you may think, I have no ill will toward you and would consider such an occurrence to be unfortunate. Do keep in mind that I am well versed in all aspects of mind and body, and should you require medical assistance in order to keep yourself in fighting condition, well, to help you would be to help the group, and therefore myself."
He chuckles derisively. "We all have our inner demons, it would seem. Some of them are simply more obvious than others."
Though he's not known for his sense of humor, especially as it relates to his infernal blood, Felrin can't help but smile at Ottakar's closing comment. "Indeed, as much as some of us have struggled to hide their inner demons - or devils - they will out, will they not?"
"I suppose so," Erevan interjects, "though some of those... fiends come out sooner rather than later." He turns to look at the Doctor and smile. "And in more spectacular, not to mention hairy, fashion."
His golden eyes move from one of his companions to the next, his mind listing what each of them appears to be or start becoming. "My my my... What monsters hide in our midst."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Felrin picks up his new scrolls, as agreed the previous evening.
You spend the day doing what is necessary to prepare for an exploratory trek into the Bryr. The one thing you cannot find is horses (or mules, or donkeys, or anything): every beast of burden has been commandeered for the war effort. The sole exceptions are the few chargers owned by the garrison of the castle: Lord Valin Darian, and his few trusty Knights of the Alerion.
You are not yet ready for a confrontation on that basis, and in any event such a disturbance of the fragile balance of peace here in Farholde would likely win you no friends on any side...
Without horses, it is a day's trek to the Bryr.
The forest of the Caer Bryr erupts from the sodden, muddy alluvial plains with a suddenness that almost takes the breath away: one moment the land is flat, rich, sleepy; the next, it is anything but. A wall of trees, densely packed, marks the border between known Talingarde and the unknown wilderness. The northern Caer Bryr is a temperate rainforest richly blessed with rain fall; the volcanic activity underneath the ground grants a heat not otherwise found in this Northern island and as a result the Caer Bryr is almost tropical.
The trees here are tall and broad. The thick-trunked baobab tree, unusual in such a wet clime, is common here and grows to enormous size: hundreds of feet tall with trunks twenty feet across. To enter into the Bryr is to enter the domain of giants.
The forest is wreathed in mists - or so you think, at first, before realising it is steam. Far in the distance, you see spires of rock, penetrating from the ground as if they would stab the sky itself, majestic, yet strangely forboding. Somewhere in there is the Horn of Abaddon, your destination.
Every flat surface is covered with brilliant flowers, moss and lichens in every hue. Mushrooms of a million sorts proliferate and crowd every fallen log. Small animal life is dense -- squirrels, voles, mice and white-faced ghost monkeys - as well as altogether stranger things. Birds dwell here in endless variety and dazzling panoramas of plumage are everywhere on display.
It is a bountiful place, rich and thriving with nature’s splendor.
Or, to put it another way, you're completely, utterly, lost. How can this be possible? You barely took a few steps in but suddenly you're swallowed up by the vegetation and you cannot tell which way you came in.
You wander aimlessly for what feels like hours - without being able to see the sky above, you have no way of counting the time. And always, everywhere, the feeling you are being watched.
Eventually, Felrin - with Tkaara's help - is able to determine the way back. It is only then, as you pass yet another foetid, steaming mound of vegetation, that the real trouble begins - the mound (or mounds) throw a tendril and both Etna and Ottakar are suddenly grabbed around the throat by vine-ropes. It looks uncomfortable.
(+2 at night -> 19)
Etna: 27 damage, grappled, constricted (cannot speak)
Ottakar: 28 damage, grappled, constricted (cannot speak)
OK. everyone gets to go before the Things. Have at it! They have AC 19, Touch 9 and 10 ft reach. Oh, and CMD 22.
Felrin freezes a moment in surprise as the forest seems to come alive and attack them, then studies the mobile mounds to try to figure out what they are. He can't quite sort it out, but he takes a gamble that they're some sort of plant, calling on the Dark Prince to empower his attacks. He steps forward, tearing into the creature with his powerful claws!
|
|
Tkaara takes Felrin aside:
I have magic that will enable me to move during the day, but only for a period of time. I would like to enter a pact with you as a servant of the Lord of Contracts. That you will carry the bag containing my coffin. In return, I shall awake you first should something seek to disturb us during my watch.
---------
Suddenly feeling an almost overwhelming hunger overcome her, Tkaara calls from the stars invisible behind the canopy of foliage. A moment later, a swirl of mites of light begin to swirl about her, making it harder for anything to see her, or attack her.
Use Coat of Many Start (+4 Armor bonus)
AC25
Aid Another (break grapple): vs DC10
Etna passes most of the trek trough the Bryr cursing under her breath, trying to find her footing in the forest. It takes but an hour for the dampness in the air to shift the ifrit's hair to a deep black, with only a few streaks of red remaining.
I had hoped we could get a lay of the place, but it seems we didn't have any lu-Gods, what did I step on now?
Frustrated, the fire-haired noblewoman stomps her feet on the ground to scrape the fetid plants, before the vegetation strikes back and tries to strangle her.
Taken by surprise, Etna tries to thrash around to free herself, but she only manages to tug helplessly at the vines coiled around her neck.
Felrin considers Tkaara’s request a moment, and sees some advantage in it for himself. ”It doesn’t seem like it requires a blood oath – and I’d hesitate to open my veins too close to you in any case, eh? – but I’ll take your deal and carry the bag.”
Seeing the ground come to life before them, and then reach out and grab two of his companions, Felrin prepares for a serious fight. Raising his claws to fend off any attacks during his transformation, he morphs into a now-familiar form, with scaly skin, a toothy maw, and a revolting smell, before stepping closer to the nearest vegetative foe.
Just as surprised as the rest of his companions, Erevan nevertheless wastes little time when the battle has begun. Concentrating for a few moments, he reaches into the well of power within him, the shadows around himself and his allies and foes darkening and starting to move as he does so. Once that is done, he grasps his spear tightly and closes in with one of the strange creatures, his eyes on the thing's movements.
"What are they?"
You are well-read and have some recollection of travellers' tales which mention such things; they're some sort of plant-based life and thus completely immune to mind-affecting effects, paralysis, poison and stunning. Being plant-based, many have tried to defend themselves using fire; that... never ended well - they're too damp to burn properly.
There's also something about electricity, but for the death of you, you can't remember what.
Taken by surprise, the Doctor falls immediately into his more feral instincts in order to survive. Instead of struggling against his captor, his face goes oddly placid and moments later his eyes begin to gleam with a now-familiar amber glow...
Round 1, Initiative 21
Standard: Mutate into feral mutagen form.
The plant-things are large, and their tendrils are many - as Erevan and Felrin approach them, more vine-like creepers lash at them, sharp, unyielding.
Etna's escape attempt fails; she and Ottakar take more damage from the choking vines.
Seeing two of his companions held fast by the monstrous plants, Felrin calls on his dark lord to lend power to his attacks, slashing and biting fiercely with his claws!
At Tkaara's notice that fire wouldn't work on the plants, Etna tries to curse as she attempts to wiggle out of the vines: however, only a chocked sound escapes the ifrit's lips, still trapped by the mound of vegetation.
Letting out a groan of pain as the strange creature's vines land a hit on him, Erevan quickly retaliates with a quick succession of stabs from his spear, though it is only the first one that connects.
Feeling its strength ebbing as spots start to overcome its vision, the Beast puts everything into escape. Vines burst as its muscles bulge and its roar of triumph is rather strained, but at least it is audible. Once free, the Beast stumbles away while eyeing the verdant menace warily.
Round 2, Initiative 21
Standard:
Move: Move five feet away from the creatures.
Free: