"Agreed. It may even be possible for us to catch up to them if we drive our horses hard at dawn. These are dangerous lands, I'd rather play it safe than overextend ourselves," Ryker adds. And if things turn south with the Kobolds, I'd rather have some of that magic my companions wield.
________
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"Works for me. I hesitate to rest here though. While there are certain fortifications in place, it is a known hideout. There may be more bandits who come here expecting to find their recently departed associate."
Max scratches his chin in thought. "We might also think about leaving a warning to such bandits. My initial idea is leaving her head on a spike, as much as I'm loathe to do so myself. Historically, such signs have been known to be effective."
As Kressel's head rolls, Golwen stares, mouth agape. He had seen violence and yet that was a bit more than he was used to. He bends over and heaves. Then, straightening, Golwen moves towards Ilamen. He mutters out "I shall return momentarily" and then walks unsteadily off to finish the job.
Gods.
As he walks away, his Eagle flies around for another minute or so, looking for enemies before 'popping' out of existence.
----
As the party discusses their future plans, Golwen finds himself returning,
Hearing the tail end of the conversation:
"Leaving her head on a pike seems so... unbecoming. I'd rather we let the dead rest."
...And what is that about marching another 25 miles, is that what you said!? My good sirs, I do not think I have 25 miles in me. Really, can't we be reasonable and rest for the evening before continuing?
I'm all for finding a different spot though. I'd rather not rest at a place of death if it can be helped."
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Ilamin nods "A reasonable idea. We could ride out perhaps eight miles then make our camp. That should allow us to reach the Kobolds within a reasonable ride the next day without punishing our horses too much." he offered the group.
He turned back to the kobolds and bowed his head "We could not push our Horses all night to make it to your home I'm afraid. We sleep at night, so we would be too tired to continue shortly. We will ride as far as we can towards your home, rest, and then push hard to make it there as soon as possible. If you would like, you can have someone stay with us as a guide so that we will find it the quickest. If possible, we would appreciate the help with creating a mass grave for these bandits." he offered the kobolds in Draconic.
Cruxis, the “interpreter” for the kobolds, who speaks the best but broken common, nods emphatically when called upon to be a guide.
Great confusion however ensues when talk of burying the bandits is broached...
“friend you bury or put in river so soul finds way back home... enemy you leave to trap/feed the grass, rot in sun — or eat to gain their strength. Kobolds expect to make rations enemies of you and shiniest, not bury in river like friends. We help you bury by eating, yes?”
There is growing tension with the kobold leader when cruxis attempts to explain that the corpses are not fodder for the troops.
“leader says they left meal of goblins to help slay enemies — now no eating enemies at all?! Not understanding ways of talls and shiny - surely if these are enemy of blackclaws they must be cut up and carried away to be eaten!!”
More confusion spreads among the kobolds at the prospect of “proper burial” for the bandits and quite growls and grumbling can be heard from the host of them. It would appear a moral or diplomatic dilemma is fulminating...
Cruxis repeats, slowly - that he is to stay behind and lead you to the kobold camp, but the bodies of the bandits must be rendered for their flesh and taken home with them.
Meanwhile, bandit Ewart is weighing his own dilemma.
“if you truly want me to join your band, I should get a cut of the loot, no? Otherwise I’ll be on my way, and with your leave FAR from here. Your gang is crafty, and mighty to boot— maybe even tough enough to defeat the stag lord... but I want to be cut in if I’m joining this merry band, and that means seeing some coin.”
Maximillian listens to the kobold debate with a small smile on his face. He has no problem with the kobolds eating the dead. He's read about many such cultures that gain strength from the consumption of their fallen enemies, and sometimes their fallen family. While he chooses not to partake himself, he can't fault the logic behind it. I suppose meat is meat.
He also agrees with Ewart. "That would make sense of course. Should he join us, he should get a share." But he would like to get input from the others.
Hearing the tail end of the conversation:
"Leaving her head on a pike seems so... unbecoming. I'd rather we let the dead rest."
"Furthermore, not dealing with a body properly can lead to that body animating as undead. Whatever her crimes here, we should not interfere with this woman's journey to the Boneyard. It is important that all people's souls make that journey, for good or ill at the end."
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Ilamin scratches his head, he didn't need to translate everything it seemed. He bowed to the little translator of the kobold's group before turning to his own team "There you have it, I suppose that is the true price of their help. It is not my custom by any means...but the interment of remains to the ground has often been purely the bones out of need or simply because that is all that is found. I would be ok with allowing them their price. They are not asking for a share of the equipment and gold found on the bandits, the least we could do is allow them their...provisions." he said.
He looked at the bandits and counted then looked at the kobolds and thought. Well...at least that might feed their tribe for a day or three.
"Let's give Ewart his gold and send him on his way. I have no desire to split our earnings any further," Ryker asserts. We seem plenty capable already and I see only risk if we take on a turncoat bandit.
On the topic of the corpses, he remains silent for a moment. "The Lady of Graves will get her souls regardless and as long as they don't rise again, I don't think she would be too upset with them being consumed by kobolds. I will have no part in cannibalism, but Ilamin makes a good point about letting them take the bodies as their "share." They risked their lives as we did," Ryker concedes. "Andreas makes a good point about the heads, we might as well set a good example. It could be us one day, Pharasma protect us, and I'd rather not have maggots chewing on my pretty face in the heat of the sun."
"If you wish to issue a warning, perhaps we could erect some kind of sign. We could shear off some bark from one of these larger trees and burn some writing into it."
Golwen listens to the conversations unfolding, considering his own positions. His face darkens slightly at the idea of letting the Kobolds just eat the corpses. "I... well, I can't say I support eating the bodies, be that as it may... If it meets our goals, I suppose that it isn't going to do any harm. As disgusting as it is."
Listening to Erwat's demands:
"I am amiable to paying up my share for further contribution. We need men right now, there is strength in numbers."
"If you wish to issue a warning, perhaps we could erect some kind of sign. We could shear off some bark from one of these larger trees and burn some writing into it."
Golwen pauses as he sits, running his hands through his hair. Feeling somewhat better now.
"Well, 'Shiny One', I do like that plan. While I don't support speared heads, a bit of a message on our deeds to those here would be quite lovely. Perhaps we could write our warning, into some sort of proclamation."
Cruxis attempts to explain what he thinks Sir Andreas is trying to convey to his leader and the other kobolds.
"Says Bodies cursed now. Food no good. Have to properly take care of bodies."Or it helps the goblins somehow. I think."
the leader is pleased. the kobolds whisper together before Cruxis returns.
"Leader hears you meantion far-ahs-mah, god of death. You worship god of death, kobolds worship god of death, blackclaws. bandits double dead -- big noisy one right, meat is cursed."
Cruxis is left behind and after the necessarily preliminaries are dealt with regarding the final captive bandit (namely stabbing him repeatedly with spears) they march double-time to the southeast.
Cruxis gestures that he'll stay with the party, wherever they choose to rest. hopefully the party can catch up with the kobold warband, but he seems certain that if the party follows the river, they will find their way to the kobold lair.
Ryker helps Andreas' efforts, drawing a small spiral in the dirt over where their chest would be and giveing a brief prayer to Pharasma for the group. "Lady of Graves, we have sent many souls to the Boneyard. Let their judgement be swift and true so their afterlife is worthy of their actions."
"Let us find a place to camp now, we'll have an early morning I think."
________
"I'll help prepare the bodies!"
Golwen's version of help consisted of using Prestidigitation to clean the bodies off of blood and dirt, rather than touching them directly. It seems redundant to clean them when they are just going to get dirty again, but I'm sure someone out there would approve of this gesture. He muses as he works his magic. Looking at his work, he can't help but feel he had done a fantastic job.
----After Burial----
"I'm beat. Can we move on and find a place to bed down for the night."
Golwen was tired enough to almost entirely ignore his displeasure that he was going to have to spend another night outside. He had been planning on a good meal and a bed this evening, such thoughts had driven him through the rain.
May the stars be pretty at least. May She of the stars lead me somewhere warm and cozy soon.
"So this 'Stag Lord', is he the power in the region? Does this fellow, or madam, have any power over Stags or something?"
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Ilamin shrugged once everything seemed to have gone well as far as burying the dead. He certainly wasn't going to promote the eating of corpses, do so himself, or help prepare them as rations...but at the same time, who was he to blanch at someone else's ways. In the end, nature would do the same thing.
He put his back into the work of creating a mass grave, it certainly wasn't pleasant work and once they were all done, he was glad they had mounts to ride upon for he didn't wish to bed down at the bandit's camp but also didn't wish to exert himself any further.
When Golwen spoke up he nodded. "We should move down as far as the light will allow up or until the horses need their rest. Just stick close to the river and perhaps I'll be able to scrounge up some fish for dinner instead of rations." he said trying to sound optimistic.
But when the question came to the Stag Lord, he shrugged. "While not the first we've heard of him...it's as much information as we've heard of him. For all we know, he's just some man who wears a lot of deer pelts and eats grass." he said attempting to lighten the mood a bit.
[ooc]On the off chance somehow I can remember anything about him?
Maximillian helps dig the holes. He's doesn't enjoy manual labor, but he'd rather not tarry here longer than necessary. He uses a quick cantrip to clean himself off when they are done.
Not realizing Ilamin was making a joke, Max points out, "Deer are browsers, not grazers. They prefer leaves, nuts, berries, things like that. Though they will ear grass if they are hungry enough." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "Perhaps a druid of some sort?"
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I think we have already left a message...
"An implicit message to be sure, but not an explicit one. The Stag Lord will know soon that he has an enemy, but not who or why. He may just assume that a rival bandit group is responsible."
"But the thing about Law is that one does not act in secret when carrying it out. One must do so openly."
Azul begins scraping a section of bark off one of the larger trees, and as he does so he leaves some metal implements with their ends in the campfire. When he is finished clearing a decent sized space, he takes one of the implements and begins burning letters into the tree.
On this day,
at this place,
eight bandits were killed,
in accordance with the law,
and by the order of
the Swordlords of Restov.
By their decree,
the punishment for banditry
is death by sword or rope.
Those bandits who wish
to escape this fate
must give up their lawlessness now,
or flee these lands forever.
Azul stands back and looks over his work. He nods.
"I think that's explicit enough, don't you?"
Ryker
Backpacks*
A Bell
Belt Pouches*
Blankets, Winter*
A bullseye lantern
A candle
A bag of casting plaster
Some Chalk
A disguise (Erastil cleric robe with wooden holy symbol)
Fishhooks*
A Flint and steel
Hammers*
A palm-sized magnet holding together tent pegs and pitons
A flimsy scroll case with 5 bits of blank parchment
A pole used to hang ration bags up in the branches
A couple of sticks of sealing wax
Sewing needle set
Shovels*
A signal whistle in the shape of a stag
A bar of soap
50 feet of Twine
A Whetstone
Ilamin, who has spent some time in the stolen lands, has heard a bit about the stag lord:
-He is a notorious drunk
-He is a hateful man, who invokes his own father as a curse.
-Those who've told Ilamin about the Stag Lord haven't been close to him, but rumor has it he has ties to necromantic power.
Azul Oros, upon leaving his proclamation, (and anyone helping with the burials) hear(s) a whisper in his ear on the wind --
"He that brings order to these troubled lands should seek the Lahppiduk..."
With the last of the bandits buried, a seemingly imperceptible pall rises off and away from the area. Birds, unnoticed before, begin chirping and there is movement of animals in the brush and the peaceful sound of the river overcomes what was once a place of noise, chaos, and fear...
"Excellent idea, Shining One." Max helps Ryker and the others gather up anything that might be of use or value. "Nice thing about having a horse with you is they can carry a lot of gear."
"He that brings order to these troubled lands should seek the Lahppiduk..."
Azul turns around frowning. When it seems that no one looks as they just spoke, Azul asks, "Did any of you hear that? And what is a Lahppiduk?"
"I heard it too..." Ryker responds quietly as he straps gear to his horse. "It seems like someone has been watching us. Unnerving. Our watches should be extra alert," he suggests.
________
"Lahppiduk? Hmm, that sounds familiar."
"That sounds wonderful Azul, Bravo, such a message shall surely shine the light of our intent upon any that come looking here."
Golwen thinks about the name too. "I might have read something like that once. I've read many things in my studies. Oceans of information even."
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Ilamin looked at the other "Mind if I borrow three of the blankets. They are a bit heavy for the season and if I do a bit of careful sewing, we can make a small pack for the Ox I ride. She should be able to carry the load of all the extra gear till we get back to Oleg's." he asked.
Provided of course they do allow such, he will go about working on such a thing with the thread and needle at the camp site. He spoke up while he worked "You know, I recall a bit about the Stag Lord now that I think about it more carefully. That's the trouble with speaking many languages. It sometimes takes a minute to put words you know go together...together." he said with a small chuckle.
"I remember a few things, he curses his own father's name. I'm not sure why this got known about the man...but well, apparently he's a drunkard so perhaps it is simply known from his drunken ragings. A cautionary tale to be sure about over indulging. I digress, there is however one more unsettling rumor. Now this, I know only as a rumor but it's one to worry about all the same for the severity of it. He supposedly, has ties to some sort of necromatic power. The rumors never go heavily into it and perhaps it's purely some local superstition to help keep children from playing in the forests of your children's generation but still, it is worrisome." he offered.
Nature Checks --
15= tales of hags and crones say that "Lahppiduk" balance the affairs of urban folk and those of nature. This is most commonly seen in fey interfering in the affairs of cruel hunters and trappers who's livelihood takes from nature...
20= "Lahppiduk" -- not a what, but a who! obscure word/title among the fey -- often the only agent of the fey that communicates as a role with non-nature honoring communities or outsiders.
25= "Lahppiduk" -- in it's purest sense, the word means "Unwilling/Unwanted envoy" -- usually a title given to fey creatures or their allies that reluctantly deal with the affairs of men and elves. A forest diplomat in the simplest sense.
26+ = "Lahppiduk" -- a fey which deals with the dreams and affairs of men and elves encroaching in the wild, often employed especially when there is discord in the fey court. The "Lahppiduk" has the authority and freedom to treat with outsiders to the fey in rare cases when the interests of the wild do not seem to coincide with the affairs fey nobles. Interactions with fey of this order are generally expected and long-established, elsewise they may concern some dark portent if "Lahppiduk" are seeking the assistance of outsiders. They generally commune with an established sage or shaman or can be found policing areas where the wilds are exploited by outsiders, such as foresters, hunters and particularly trappers -- meting out trickery or justice where necessary.
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As he thinks a bit more, making sure the gear is stowed on his horse,
Golwen flips through the first couple pages of his journal, checking against a few notes he made of the Wilderness before leaving. He notices one little scribbling, a few thoughts he made.
Golwen took notes in a variety of ways. Sometimes we would write down many complex instructions in shorthand that he could read, much like the spells in his spellbook. Other times when trying to condense information, like in this case, he made notes of a few important ideas along with any major themes, feelings, or thoughts he had of something when he learned of it. The goal was to condense as much information as possible.
In this case, he read the thoughts and after thinking a few moments he spoke.
"This 'Lahppiduk' you speak of Alzul. I read in once in a book, oh what was that book? It might have been an Elven one, Max, Ilamin, uh... Ryker? Let I know if this sounds familiar. The version I read was a translation, Elven is beautiful but not something I've yet learned. Anyways, I think the title was 'Intersectional Studies between the First World Interests and the Prime: Fey, Elves, and Sub-Elves.' Or at least that was the translated title. I think the author might have had a preference for Elvenkind, a bit pointed that title.
Anyways, I think the term comes from some sort of Fey Diplomat meant to intersect with Man and Elf, specifically when a Wilderness area is the topic at hand. I believe their contact can come about for a few different reasons, sometimes its just a matter of standard fare, other times it can be if something terrible is about to happen, or has happened. Hopefully, that is not the case here...
The important bit is that such a creature is likely trying to make contact here. " Golwen clears his throat while studying his handiwork on his horse. He pauses a moment longer.
"Ryker, you seem to have your gear well and properly stowed, would you mind making sure I've properly secured everything on my friend here? It's probably good, but I wouldn't want to cause him any discomfort."
"I remember a few things, he curses his own father's name. I'm not sure why this got known about the man...but well, apparently he's a drunkard so perhaps it is simply known from his drunken ragings. A cautionary tale to be sure about overindulging. I digress, there is, however, one more unsettling rumor. Now this, I know only as a rumor but it's one to worry about all the same for the severity of it. He supposedly has ties to some sort of necromatic power. The rumors never go heavily into it and perhaps it's purely some local superstition to help keep children from playing in the forests of your children's generation but still, it is worrisome." he offered.
As Ilamin starts, Golwen empties the ash out of his pipe, frowning partway through as he repacks it. "A drunkard with powers of necromancy ought to be something interesting." He snaps his fingers and leaf starts the process of becoming ash. "I've known drunks in my time, their dangerous enough just with a half-empty bottle in their hands and a mean streak. Overindulgence indeed." He puffs while he ponders. "If true, I'm sure a dash of Necromancy only makes such a fellow... so much more pleasant." Golwen adds the last bit, his voice dripping with sarcasm and he takes another puff, slowly exhaling.
Maximillian gasps a bit. "You don't read Elven?! My dear sir, there is no finer language. It has poetic qualities that simply fail to translate to other languages. WE will have to work on that," he says with a smile.
"Regarding the Lahppiduk, I would suggest that if such a creature is attempting to contact us that we accept and invite such interaction. If for no other reason than to prevent such a being from tormenting us mercilessly. Fey are capricious creatures at best, and downright malevolent at worst."
The party finds a suitable camping spot under an overhang at the edge of the wood. Extremely comfortable, you'll have no trouble getting some good rest here, and can admire the stars and flowing clouds out of the weather.
Cruxis the kobold offers to take the first watch, and Ewart -- feeling his obligations fulfilled, declines to stay the night with the party and heads due north presumably for civilization.
Maximillian gasps a bit. "You don't read Elven?! My dear sir, there is no finer language. It has poetic qualities that simply fail to translate to other languages. WE will have to work on that," he says with a smile.
"Regarding the Lahppiduk, I would suggest that if such a creature is attempting to contact us that we accept and invite such interaction. If for no other reason than to prevent such a being from tormenting us mercilessly. Fey are capricious creatures at best, and downright malevolent at worst."
"Agreed on all accounts!"
Golwen smiles at the thought of new language and learning more of this entity that had been in contact with Azuul.The party finds a suitable camping spot under an overhang at the edge of the wood. Extremely comfortable, you'll have no trouble getting some good rest here, and can admire the stars and flowing clouds out of the weather.
Cruxis the kobold offers to take the first watch, and Ewart -- feeling his obligations fulfilled, declines to stay the night with the party and heads due north presumably for civilization.
"Please do my friend, I shall need my sleep tonight. Now, Maximillian, about those spells?"
Golwen will spend his evening working on the spell and appreciating the stars, This really isn't so bad, I could see why people enjoy this.
"The important bit is that such a creature is likely trying to make contact here. "
"Is it? You think the voice we heard was the Lahppiduk itself?"
Azul rubs the beard-like protuberance on his chin.
"Why would it refer to itself in the third person? It sounds more like some other speaker is suggesting we seek out the Lahppiduk. The Lahppiduk may not know of our presence at all. Which begs the question: who spoke those words? And why?"
Azul shakes his head. "I don't know. Nor do I have any idea how we can find out. And since we don't know where the nearest Lahppiduk is, we may as well continue with our existing plans, until we have some more clues."
Ryker eyes Golwen critically for a moment before approaching his horse. I don't mind checking up on someones work, but he better not think I'm going to become his stablehand. Like someone who has learned many lessons the hard way, he systematically pokes, prods, and pulls on straps and items until he is satisfied. Finally, he gives the horse a rather aggressive jab in the ribs before tightening the girth. "The damn things think they are clever. They breath deep when you first put the saddle on to give themselves some extra comfort on the road. All fine and dandy until you start adding weight to it, you're liable to end up underneath the horse!" he explains. Satisfied with his work, he gives the human a nod before returning to his own horse.
"I'm not one for poetry, but my wife told me once that the way Elven is written, you know the letters, words, and sentences, allows the writer to make a sort of visual poetry or something of the sort that no other language can replicate. She said the most masterful poets manipulate both the content of their poetry with the visual representation. I'll ask her for a demonstration in my next letter," Ryker adds to the conversation.
"I think Azul has the right of it. It sounded more like a suggestion to me, made by a third party. I've no aversion to meeting this lap duck, but our parlay with those Kobolds is more pertinent at the moment."
________
As they start comparing spells, Max starts to show Golwen a little about Elven script. Might as well. "True indeed, Ryker. I've always thought that the descriptive capacity for Elven poetry, and perhaps the language as well, has relied on the near meaninglessness of time to our poets. Possibly the assumed readers as well." He sort of drifts off for a moment thinking about something or other. "Ah, yes, spells. Let's work on that."
The party, after breaking camp, moves southward along the river where valleys, hollows and falls put the riverbed at a considerable depth below the banks. Approximately a third of the way down the river-route, the party finds a rickety bridge spanning what is now a yawning gap down into the river.
The bridge looks to be of questionable repair, and is missing some boards in the middle.
On the far side of the river a good distance away, the party can see a TROLL deveouring what looks like the remains of two giant humanoids, dressed in rags with misshaped claws.
It seems to have heard the approach of your horses, but besides a quick contemptuous glance at you from across the bridge-span, does not seem interested in you.
Cruxis pipes up: "Trolls sometimes seen on far side of river, they hunt ugly giants. Kobolds don't cross river much for this reason."
The path you want to continue to travel thankfully does not take you across the river but instead further down the banks to the east.
"Follow river southeast to fork, then east to sootscale warrens! Cruxis exclaims. He appears to be in no mood to antagonize a troll...
"The important bit is that such a creature is likely trying to make contact here. ""Is it? You think the voice we heard was the Lahppiduk itself?"
Azul rubs the beard-like protuberance on his chin.
"Why would it refer to itself in the third person? It sounds more like some other speaker is suggesting we seek out the Lahppiduk. The Lahppiduk may not know of our presence at all. Which begs the question: who spoke those words? And why?"
Azul shakes his head. "I don't know. Nor do I have any idea how we can find out. And since we don't know where the nearest Lahppiduk is, we may as well continue with our existing plans, until we have some more clues."
"I do not truly know. But such creatures are known to commune with Shamans and the like. Would you consider yourself a "Shaman" of sorts? If so, then there is a chance. As for how it refers to itself, I do not know the mind of Fey so I do not assume to understand how it might communicate if it were to do so.
But, you are correct. If not then who or what points us in that direction is a good question. Such fabulous questions do deserve fabulous answers. "
Ryker eyes Golwen critically for a moment before approaching his horse. I don't mind checking up on someones work, but he better not think I'm going to become his stablehand. Like someone who has learned many lessons the hard way, he systematically pokes, prods, and pulls on straps and items until he is satisfied. Finally, he gives the horse a rather aggressive jab in the ribs before tightening the girth. "The damn things think they are clever. They breath deep when you first put the saddle on to give themselves some extra comfort on the road. All fine and dandy until you start adding weight to it, you're liable to end up underneath the horse!" he explains. Satisfied with his work, he gives the human a nod before returning to his own horse.
After doing his bestGolwen claps his hands appreciatively, inwardly relieved that he asked. Ending up upside down was exactly what he did not want.
"Thank you much, my good friend. I appreciate it and shall bear in mind your insight into riding horseback."Golwen didn't have the heart to ask about treatments for the pains brought on by the saddle.
Golwen leerily eyes the Troll from the back of his horse., glad to have a local guide.Troll? I've never encountered one before. This is as close as I'd like to such a creature."
Golwen, not one for staying quiet for long, pipes up soon after, doing his best to learn some information and to become chummy with their guide. Speaking in Draconic: "What is this Warren you speak of?" After getting an answer Golwen will continue with this stream of thought: "If you don't mind me asking, what other sorts of interesting sort of places are about these part? Any other places you recommend avoiding my dear little fellow? And please, do tell us more about your tribe"
Cruxis speaks about the warrens and other things in general:
"Warren is the strong holdfast of the sootscales. It used to be place where humans break rocks, but humans gone long ago. Presently called sootscale warren for chief sootscale -- name changes of kobolds every time chief changes. Rivalry in warrens these days. Chief sootscale actual ruler, but shaman Tlax interprets will of Blackclaws, which don't always agree. Tlax keeps us fighting because he says that what Blackclaws wants. Before goblin enemy, we had mite enemy, other enemies before that. Kobolds afraid of Ol' Blackclaws so we do what Tlax says... but Cruxis think sootscale and kobolds overall tired of fighting constantly. Kobolds hoping when goblins driven out, Blackclaws will be satisfied but if not, I'm thinking clash of leaders and maybe we become the Tlax-scales. Nobody want that. Tlax just wants more fighting and no time to regroup."
Cruxis continues about places to be avoided:
"Area north of woods, closer to human road, lots of traps - mad trapper. Trap everything. Sootscales have little reason to go north of root-patches east of wood so not big deal for us, but big'uns like you like roads. Watch out for traps!"
"Stay out of deep woods. Used to be giant trees were landmarks in forest, now giant trees disappear. Something bad going on in deep wood, but kobolds plains dwellers, so kobolds don't care."
"Maybe after Big'uns help with Goblins we tell you about other place humans used to pick at the rocks. Slithe says humans and other big'uns picks at rocks to make coins! We don't make coins in warrens though -- even if some rock is shiny. Slithe says rock in other holes is shinier but Thawn hunt there. Thawn ugly giants like the kind Troll hunts. Thawn dumb so they explore and hunt across river. Other side of river not safe, as you can see with Trolls!"
Despite the troll's obvious disinterest and the river of space between them, Ryker adjusts his riding position to give even more space. Praise be to Pharasma that none of us saw fit to strike at that monster. Certainly would have been the end of us.
As Golwen engages Cruxis in conversation, the Half-elf listens partially as he keeps his focus on their surroundings. When talk turns to locations, he does his best to take rough notes for later. A map of this place would be of incredible value. Especially one for... personal use. Our sponsors can get the map they expect, we can have a map with details to the good stuff.
________
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Ilamin watches everyone for the most part with interest. With the Kobold taking the first watch, it left the others able to double up on watches.
He yawned softly in the morning as he joined Ryker for last watch. He didn't really mind the last watch, the sun coming up and it allowed him to do a bit of packing and preparing of his horse.
He checked over his gear and made ready for the road. Once they started moving, Ilamin stayed silent. He wasn't too keen on speaking at the moment just enjoying the outdoors. It was Andreas's question that caused the elf to finally speak again "I don't count them as stupid as Giants. I'm not sure if that's sound thought or not but personally I'd rather eat my kill than chase something that runs faster than myself and has a head start. Perhaps that's the only reason he does not give chace." he said letting the others speak with the Kobold guide for now.
Golwen listens intently as Cruxis speaks. "Thank you, my friend, such information is invaluable to us. Surely we shall have more words later then."
He will continue riding and taking in the sights, not paying much attention to that which is not beautiful or intriguing.
The River continues southeast until it forks leading to the south and east, as well as northward the way you came.
The dangerous heights over the riverbed shrink to near nothing in this area and the area where the three ways of the river meet is fast-paced, but the water is only three feet at it's deepest point. From here Cruxis leads you further down the river to the east but leads you away from the river at a certain point and towards a group of rocky outcroppings obscuring a cave into the earth among them.
Hanging on one hinge above the cave is a weathered sign carved "Oaktop Silver Mine" with the area around the cave covered in painted markings of warning in draconic to keep out. Lining these warning areas are spiked poles, some of which have goblins impaled upon them.
Upon approaching, a kobold guard gives a call out into the cave and soon the entrance area is full of seemingly familiar and enthusiastic kobolds.
Directly inside the entrance is a goblin prisoner, starving and close to death in a cage. You are lead past this alcove and through what you'd presume to be a guard-room with more curious kobolds coming out of other tunnels to see what all the fuss is about.
It's exceedingly dark at this point up until you reach what seems to be a temple chamber with a hole out to sunlight/starlight far above. The light largely shines on an empty dais, but the room is well enough lit to see in, more or less.
The walls are covered in blood and paint drawings of what you assume to be "Blackclaws" -- A demon or god of some kind that the kobolds seem to worship. Behind the dias is an altar, upon each side of which stands a particular personage among the kobolds... A black kobold Chief "Sootscale" who gives the tribe it's name, who wears armor made from the bones of his predecessor, and a purple kobold Shaman you have heard tell of as called "Tlax"...
Cruxis stands with your group to translate the pieces of draconic that are particularly difficult, and the party are introduced to the chieftain and the shaman in a rather long and obsequious manner.
Each of the leaders speaks briefly, the chieftain proud and happy at the success against the goblins and supposed other foes in the wood, and the shaman speaking largely to his flock, condemning the meddling of outsiders and the deprivation of meat rightly earned in war.
Before anyone carries on for too long however, the chieftain stops all the chatter and bids that you speak for yourselves, your reasons for helping the sootscales, and your larger intentions... Which Tlax, leaning on his staff and leering, awaits your words.
Similarly, Ryker takes advantage of the rising light but otherwise relaxed atmosphere to break his part of camp and repack. "What I've heard is that even Giants and Ogres have a kind of cruel cunning that isn't to be underestimated. I'd imagine trolls share similar characteristics, although I've yet to have the misfortune to fight one and test my theory..." he comments, clearly content to leave his thoughts untested by personal experience.
Unease walking into the Kobold's lair, he does his best to keep to the back of the group and always stands near the closest exit. As the Kobold leaders address their group, Ryker leaves the talking to those demonstrably more capable than he. ...We shouldn't be here. We should have met outside, neutral ground. Don't trust these things... They've been nice enough so far, but that shaman doesn't look like our words will change his judgement of us. That flock of his is a giant liability too...
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Ilamin watched curiously at the kobolds as they spoke and prostalitized. It was clear that religion held some sway in the room, otherwise this Tlak would hold little power.
He scratched behind one of his ears a bit and when the pause came, he looked at the others and with a mild bit of body language asked who should speak for the group, or at least speak first?