Spivey titters when Haru identifies who she is. "Oh, we're not much--only the divine musicians and messengers of Desna herself. We hail from the holy realm of Elysium--Our Lady's sacred realm of freedom and compassion. Sometimes we're approached by Her clergy or faithful for aid--such was the case with my old mistress."
Her cheerful features turn downcast for a moment. "Shame what happened to her."
"See, I've kinda been stuck here ever since she died. So, when I found this castle, I thought 'you know what? That place looks like it once had a chapel of Desna in its halls--I should fix that." Spivey shrugs. "Well, I ended up attracting the wrong sort of attention, and I took to living in this cemetery. These days, I keep it free of undead and anyone dumb enough to try disturbing the graves."
"What happened to your Mistress?" Friday asks on impulse.
Spivey bites her lip. "She, uh... kinda got eaten by a hungry plant."
Friday arches a brow at the Azata. "Kinda? Is the plant nearby?"
Spivey shakes her head. "Nope. And it was a long time ago anyway."
"Can you tell us the whole story? I'm sure you're wonderful at telling stories," Haru asks.
Spivey flits down and sits on the edge of the copper bowl in the statue's hands. "There's not much to tell, really... I was called to the mortal plane by my mistress some ten years ago. Things were all fine and dandy until we took a trip to the Mierani Forest--we ran afoul of some sort of man-eating plant. We slew the thing after a pitched battle... or rather, I slew it after it ate her."
"I'm not much of a storyteller, I'm afraid. I'm a messenger & priestess first."
"Would you like to go back, to this Elysium?"
Spivey looks around the rain-soaked graveyard. "Can't say I'm in a hurry to get back. There's still so much of this world left for me to see!"
Her eyes light up and she hops off the edge of the copper bowl, hovering before the party. "Hey, mind if I ask you a favour while you're here?"
"I don't mind."
"Great." Spivey claps her hands. "See, the last time I got chased out of the castle, I left something very important to me in there. Before I was called to this plane, my Lady bestowed upon me a phylactery of faithfulness--essentially, a small box containing her holiest of scriptures. It's something you wear on your head that always lets you know if you're in danger of straying from Her path." The lyrakien bobs up and down in the air.
"If you're going up to that castle, could you please see if you could find it for me?"
"Of course." Friday replies without a thought.
After a moment he does have a thought and despite a pit in his stomach he decides to voice it. "I don't mean to impose, but if I could ask a favor of you in return? After we've accomplished what we've traveled here to do, and retrieved your master's scriptures, if it's alright... could I possibly... draw you? Or the shrine?"
"So you've been in Castle Brinewall yourself? Can you tell us anything about it? "
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Right. That's more important." Friday quickly adds.
Kavell was quiet saying a small internal prayer for the fallen cleric's soul while he watched the other interact with the holy creature. His learning didnt have a whole lot to do with divine agents from other planes, or even the fiendish kinds. That was probably something he should fix at some point.
He did decide to let the others continue on with the questioning after all they seemed to hold some sort of bond with it already in such a short time.
"I don't mean to impose, but if I could ask a favor of you in return? After we've accomplished what we've traveled here to do, and retrieved your master's scriptures, if it's alright... could I possibly... draw you? Or the shrine?"
Spivey pauses for a bit and scratches her head. "Uh, well... huh. Nobody's ever asked me that kind of question before. Usually they tell me to fetch some weird item or whatever. Sure. Sounds like fun."
"So you've been in Castle Brinewall yourself? Can you tell us anything about it? "
"Well, it's pretty old. And beat up. And stuffed with weirdo crow people that like to eat anything that isn't them. In fact, they're the ones who conquered the hobgoblins I ended up tangling with before being forced to run away." Spivey bobs over to Haru's head and starts flying around her. "But they're not the only ones who live there--they follow some strange red-skinned... thing that also lives here."
Spivey shivers, the green glow around her body flickering in the rain. "I have no idea what he really is, but there's no way he's really human. Just looking at him was enough to make my skin crawl."
"That's fine the crow people and the red thing are why I first got excited about coming here to begin with, then the boss got sick and it got shifted to being the second reason why I'm here" Gergo's axe left its sheath once more, the warrior held it with just one hand, as he used his other to once more pull his wet hair away from his face.
The castle looked inviting to him, an old ruin of something once great, the rain and occasional piercing flash of lighting adding to its allure. Those who built it probably never considered what would become of it, if they were reasonable they would have guessed it would fall into disrepair at some point. But for it to be nothing but a highly raised stone haunt for whatever group of bandits decided they were worthy of it, was by far the ultimate blow to the pride of its maker.
What happened here could happen anywhere...and it made Gergo think of the cities he'd seen during his days as a soldier for hire. Magnimar would make an excellent ruin, the poor souls who tried to go there would probably end up lost before finding whatever monster decided to claim it at its own Sandpoint...Maybe it will grow bigger before that happens, maybe it'll become like Korvosa? I like it as it is, but it won't remain the way it is for me, everything changes, if it didn't I wouldn't get to storm a castle like this Gergo let the haft of his axe rest on his shoulder, then began walking to the exit of the graveyard.
"Alright lets go about conquering this castle! Oh and Wednesday, would you mind drawing the castle for me later? I hope it rains for a while so you can draw it just as it is now...I'll pay of course!"
Friday snaps back to attention, obviously surprised at getting a commission. "Oh! Yes, of course."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Spivey bobs up and down in the air once more, giggling. "Great--glad to hear it. By the way, if you ever need a safe spot to rest while exploring in there, just swing by again. I'll make sure this place is kept safe."
"Oh, would any of you care for some holy water before you go?" The lyrakien flies up to the copper bowl and taps it a few times. "That's the beauty of this bowl--I've enchanted it so that it converts rainwater into holy water."
As the party departs from the graveyard, Ishgha steps back in line and starts trudging through the mud. "Hmph. You possess more sense than my brothers had. Onward, then. We have tarried too long here."
The hobgoblin leads the party through the deserted town, the rain doing little to worsen his mood further. The broken husks of buildings he leads you past are still somewhat recognizable as the blacksmith, general store, stables and homes they once were. Perhaps one day this town could be rebuilt and renewed, but today is not that day.
The old, muddied road winds through a copse of trees standing before the castle, offering some shelter from the ongoing winds. Ishgha pauses briefly as the party passes a particularly large tree.
He sighs and points out the iron cages hanging from the old tree's heavy branches. "This is where my old master would punish failures--that is, when he wished to watch my people suffer." Indeed, the iron cages are all filled with hobgoblin corpses, each of them little more than skin and bones, wasting away. Some of the corpses have teeth marks on their extremities, and chunks of their arms and legs are missing.
The party leaves the grisly sight behind and proceeds onward, walking up to the massive gates of Brinewall Castle. A row of posts is on the side of the road, each of them topped with a mutilated hobgoblin head.
"These ones were victims of my master's more... mercurial tempers." Ishgha grumbles before walking past them to the castle's gates.
A massive iron gate stands before the party, coated in a thick layer of rust. Stone windows can be seen on either side of the gates--however, they're quite small. It would take some effort to squeeze through one of them.
"We can bury them after we are done." Friday says to the hobgoblin leading them.
Ishgha says nothing, instead simply nodding.
"Here is the gatehouse. If the guards are sleeping, perhaps we have a chance to ambush them." The hobgoblin pokes the iron gate with his sword.
Friday nods back and attempts to sneak in through one of the windows.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Listen," Haru says to the others, "Since Ishgha is helping us and all, maybe it'd be a good idea to try not to kill his fellow hobs if we can avoid it. I mean, it sounds like they're as much victims of these crow people and the big red man as they are minions."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Friday will nod towards the ranger... though he had absolutely no idea how they were going to accomplish that other than by not being seen.
Friday manages to squeeze through the narrow window without too much difficulty.
The interior of the gatehouse is considerably drier than outside. The packed dirt floor bears countless scuff marks and multiple wooden beams keep the stone ceiling above from falling in. Another rusted gate is beyond the entrance gate, this one smaller but in no better condition. Two wooden levers are mounted on either side of the second gate, and a pair of wooden ladders to the north lead to the roof above.
Inside the gatehouse are two humanoid crows with oily black feathers, their sharp beaks stained with old blood. They have two muscular arms instead of wings, ending in claws that appear to have been sharpened to a knife's edge.
Curiously enough, they're both sound asleep. One of them stirs slightly as Friday climbs through the window.
"Since Ishgha is helping us and all, maybe it'd be a good idea to try not to kill his fellow hobs if we can avoid it. I mean, it sounds like they're as much victims of these crow people and the big red man as they are minions."
Ishgha glances over at Haru.
"Your compassion is noted, shifter."
Those are not Hobgoblins, Friday thinks to himself with relief.
Silently moving over to the nearest not-hob Friday will plunge his spear into it's neck.
The crow-man gurgles and dies as Friday's spear goes through its neck.
The other crow-man doesn't even stir, lying face-down on the nearby table as it is.
Watching the body after it stopped twitching to make sure it was dead Friday will attempt the act again with the other not-hob.
Although Friday steps on an errant twig, causing it to *SNAP*, the other crow-man doesn't wake up.
In fact, it only wakes up in time to see Friday's spear going through its neck, ending its wretched existence.
His adrenaline rocketing as he sees the creature's eyes snap open right before its death he keep the spear lodged into it a bit longer to make sure it stays down.
When he's satisfied it won't rise back up under its own natural power Friday will remove his spear and head back over to the window and and wave for the others to come in.
He moved forward and nodded to the others first attempting to help others through the window before trying to make his way through it himself.
The corpses of former homes surrounded the road they took through the village. Most of their ceilings were partially destroyed or missing completely, allowing the rain into their interior, filling the old and abandoned ground within with numerous puddles of muddy water. It almost seemed no different from an abandoned battlefield, with nothing but traces of what was once alive to be seen. Time, the elements and the occasional beast chipping away at these signs...till one day the slate would be clean, awaiting new form of life to plant itself and prosper.
Gergo made a quick detour to the blacksmith as they walked, peering into the broken down building, rubbing a wet forge that had not known a craftsman's fire in a long, long time. The anvil was still about as well, but now only rain fell upon it, not swinging hammers, that worked to straighten both swords and knives alike.
The general store was not so different, dented containers lay scattered about, some of them already half filled with muddy water. Most of the shelves had fallen from where they once hanged, with mold and chipped edges aplenty. The sight made the warrior wonder about the numerous trades that had occurred at some point or another here. He gave the counter a few knocks with the butt of his axe before moving own, probably echoing the first man made noise in that establishment since the place was abandoned to its fate.
No animals could stay in what was left of the stables, not counting the rats of course. Overall Gergo figured there was not much to see...until his eyes took notice of a horseshoe on one of the remaining walls. He took it of the nails that kept it from gravity and turned it in his hand This should do as a souvenir...if I don't find anything in the castle He stuffed it in his pack and then did his best to follow after his companions.
=======================================================================
"Way I see it, if something takes a swing at any of you" He points at his companions one by one which surprisingly included Ishga "I'll swing back twice as hard. If I do other wise it would be disrespectful"
Valeria quickly wormed her way through the window with Kavell's help, one of the rare occasions where she was glad to be so small. Once inside, she quickly took watch in-case anyone came in to check. She wasn't very good at subtlety so was ready for things to go south any minute.
The rest of the party manages to get inside the gatehouse without undue incident.
Ishgha shakes himself, sending droplets of rainwater flying every which way. "Hmph. A disciplined soldier would have seen us coming, crow." He kicks the nearest crow-man corpse with a snort of contempt.
"Now, if my memory serves, there should be a stables to our left, beyond the courtyard." The hobgoblin looks over at the left side of the room. "That door there should lead us to it."
"We could also scale these ladders to the battlements and deal with any crows we find up there. But be warned--though the weather outside is frightful, their eyes are still sharp." Ishgha looks to the rest of the team.
Gergo took several whiffs as he entered through the window, recognizing the smell of blood. Casually he made his way to one of the corpses and stared, occasionally stepping to its left and right to get a view of the crow men from several sides. After his curiosity was somewhat sated he focused on the wounds that stopped their breath forever, then looked up turned his face towards Friday and gave him an approving nod.
"You make subtlety appear more enjoyable than it actually is"
"Now, if my memory serves, there should be a stables to our left, beyond the courtyard." The hobgoblin looks over at the left side of the room. "That door there should lead us to it."
"We could also scale these ladders to the battlements and deal with any crows we find up there. But be warned--though the weather outside is frightful, their eyes are still sharp." Ishgha looks to the rest of the team.
"Do they have bows and arrows? Can they fly?"
"They cannot fly, but I have seen them scale sheer walls with their claws." Ishgha draws his sword and readies it. "And their bloodlust is such that they disdain ranged combat as a rule."
"Besides, if I recall correctly, my master's... consort... is a more capable archer than they could ever be."
A wide smile was the beginning of Gergo's reply to the hobgoblin "This is perfect, we couldn't ask for better or stupider opponents!" The wild man began pacing where he stood as he considered what they should do with this information.
"I say we let them come to us. Cause as much as I like the idea of fighting in the rain, I'd hate to fight in a place where my enemies have an advantage over me" He paused, put the blade of his axe on the ground and kept his hand on the end of the haft "Captain always said that picking where you fight is as important as picking who you fight"
"Subtle and silent are two different things." Is all Friday responded with.
"Consort?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
Ishgha nods. "I only saw her once--a winged woman with an aim that would rival the Huntress herself. One of my brothers attempted to flee when the master's forces stormed the castle--she shot him down before he could make it past the forest."
"She was very quiet--never spoke to anyone, not even when the master fawned over her."
"Winged woman?" Friday asks, with some interest in his voice.
"Mmhm." The hobgoblin nods. "With a red mane of hair and the wings of a great eagle. Talons, too. I think she may be in one of the castle's main towers."
They also have no sense of hygiene--you can usually smell one coming before seeing one.
"She sounds interesting..."