The feast costs 25 gp, 11 sp, 5 cp
You notice a small, round tattoo on Gareth's wrist. It's hidden by his sleeve, until the fabric happens to ride up just enough to reveal the pattern.
Lleidr's never been happier to foot a bill, and he'll round it up to 30 gp for tips or whatever.
Whenever we're in discussion with Gareth and we notice the tattoo, Lleidr will grab Gareth's hand and shove the sleeve up to get a better look. "For hopefully the only time in my life, no, forget the coin. I'm more interested in what the hell this is doing on you?"
He yanks his sleeve down to cover the tattoo. "It's nothing, just a small mark I got when I was staying up in Turtleback Ferry."
How about a Diplomacy check anyone ?
"When you get up to Turtleback, get someone in town to show you a gambling barge that opened up a few months ago, called 'Paradise'. The lady running the place, Lucy, gave me this mark since I was a special customer. I got to play a few games for free each week with it, but it's a secret, so don't let anyone else know about it."
"Paradise? Or Pair-a-dice? Ok, sure, we will check it out. I seem to have some extra coin to part with anyway..."
LOL, that's funny, cause in real life, we had an RPG gaming store in Winston-Salem called 'Pair-a-Dice Games', many many years ago.
Anything else you guys are interested in accomplishing while in Wartle? Shelalu is very anxious to get back on the road. "The fate of the Black Arrows is like a heavy weight on my mind."
Selia purchases 4 3rd level scrolls: 2 of fly, 1 for water breathing, and 1 wind wall. Total cost is 1500.
Lleidr will reluctantly say goodbye to his family and Wartle. On to Turtleback!
Nicolae buys an old riding horse with a steady temperament, and await the group for their departure.
Parthen is also mounted and ready to leave.
The road is a ribbon of mud, churned by the occasional traveler and fed by the incessant drizzle. The late autumn damp works its way through hoods and cloaks. It isn't long before even Shelalu is in a foul mood.
The land begins to rise and even in this gloom, you can make out the steadily rising foothills and mountains to the east. A few times each hour, a series of harsh gusts sweep out of the mountains and envelop you in chill winds.
Daylight falters and the moon's light is enfeebled by the veil of clouds. As the road dips down towards the bottom of a group of hills, a strange noise is carried on the wind. Your ears catch a haunting melody which grows stronger with each step forward.
Perception checks please!
Selia is preoccupied trying to read the map upside down.
Why is Selia upside down? :)
(Allies within LOS and hearing gain +2 Initiative, Perception, Stealth, Survival and don't leave tracks within your favored terrain (Forest).)
[dice=perception]d20+13
(Allies within LOS and hearing gain +2 Initiative, Perception, Stealth, Survival and don't leave tracks within your favored terrain (Forest).)
Conveniently making Ned the center of attention ;)
But Lleidr will still take that +2, bumping him up to a 31.
Shelalu giggles at your apprehension. "Have no fear, my friends. The music is coming from Whistledown. It's an effect from some gnomish contraptions."
Parthen strains to look down the road through the gloom. "Ah, I think I can make out the tail of Lake Syrantula. I had no idea we were so close to the next town."
But, Lleidr hears a noise beyond that of an eerie melody. You can just catch the sound of someone gasping for breath. There's a set of thick brambles just a few feet ahead, to the side of the road, and that's where the noise emerges.
Light is failing fast. If you don't get into Whistledown soon, there's a good chance you'll be spending another night in the rain. It's not an appealing thought.
"Hold on a moment. I hear something else over there."
Lleidr will hop down from Madfall, ready the FoE, and move towards the gasping sound.
Nicolae dismounts and follows Lleidr, blade at the ready in case the halfling is heading into trouble.
You find a wounded man, lying on his back several feet from the road, and hidden by thick shrubs. His legs show several wounds, and the unnatural angle of a shin suggests a break. His face freezes in fear at your approach and he raises a thin knife up to ward you away.
He hisses, "Stay away from me! I have nothing left to pilfer.". Then, gasps again from pain.
Agreed. Lleidr will move off 10 or 20 feet into the shadows and keep watch for the man's attackers if Nich opts to tend to the wounds.
"Calm down, sir. We are not bandits. We are simply trying to stay dry and heard you near by. We can help you, if you let us."
Easy... easy, says Iomadae's priest as he sheathes his blade.
We mean you no ill and would help if you would allow it - I can straighten that leg for you... then heal it by the power of the Inheritor. Will you allow us to aid you?.
Diplomacy check anyone?
He shrinks back, unconvinced, his knife pointed straight at the group. Lleidr sees no signs of anyone else in the vicinity.
Well, it's not Lleidr's strong suite, but...
Moving back over to the group, Lleidr says, "No sign of his attackers. If this guy won't take healing from us, should we move on?"
"Come now, we are simply trying to help."
"Dude. Really?' Ned asks Lleidr before turning to the injured man, "We're good people, most of us anyway. Let us help."
He jerks the knife to the side, raising his forearm as if to block an attack. His body shivers, from the cold rain perhaps, maybe also from fear.
"You mongrel men! Have you no heart? You kill my wife, slay my livestock! Leave me ....
His voice trails off, his head sinks backward and his eyes close. His body slumps upon the ground.
By now, dusk has deepened to the point where you won't reach Whistledown before the sun has vanished.
Sorry ... Diplomacy wasn't the right skill to ask from you. Let's treat it as Perception for the sake of expediency:
To Nich's trained eye, the man is suffering from shock. And he has just passed out from pain and exposure, most likely.
Cool, much rather play Lleidr's bad medical knowledge than poor manners.
"Well, let's set up a shelter and see if we can do something for this man."
Selia starts to quickly gather wood.
After you've made camp, magical healing is enough to ensure the man is made whole and can rest. He falls into a deep slumber.
The night passes without event, other than a steady fine drizzle soaking the horses and tents. Upon awakening, the man, whose name is Lochan, thanks you for your help.
"I am sorry I threatened you, but I'm sure you could tell I was no danger in my prior state to fine lords such as yourselves. I was travelling with my wife, Eridnae, a few days ago. We were leaving our farm up north to a new house in Whistledown.
Growing up, I'd always heard of giant-kin and big folk in the northlands, but never heard tale of them in these parts. It took a few seconds before my mind could accept what my eyes were seeing. They burst out of the trees on the side of the road and set upon my wagon, taking my wife, our horses, all our goods.
They were horrible - tall, brawny, some with a weird limp, others with misshapen noses, others still with teeth like fangs from a snake. It was a nightmare and I'll be mighty glad to leave this road."
Shelalu shakes her head. "The only reason the Black Arrows exist is as a check on the ogre-kin of the northlands. If giant folk are seen this far south, then I fear the worst.
Let's resupply as needed in Whistledown, but I don't want to spend the night there."
"Agreed. Let's get this man to town quietly, and be on our way."
Lleidr will feed Madfall and get him saddled up, then he's ready to go.
A humble village priest, Father Canthas, takes charge of the stranger's recovery. He does ask, however, that if you find out anything about his wife, Eridnae, to send word to Whistledown.
Later that morning, the rains dissipate, though the sky remains a mottled steel grey. Passing through Whistledown is uneventful. It's a small place, though unique in that about half the village's folk are gnomish. Their bright green cottages are easy to spot amid the much larger, and much more drab, human houses.
The land flattens outside Whistledown and the road is an easy travel alongside Lake Syrantula. On the north side of the lake, you get to the banks of Skull River, a narrow, frothing channel of water. All the recent rains have colored it brown and it surges up along its banks.
The next day, the Skull widens and you see another lake, much smaller than Syrantula, in the distance. "Claybottom Lake! We'll find Turtleback Ferry on the opposite side." Shelalu seems relieved that the end of your journey is in sight. The words are hardly out of her mouth when the rains pick up once more, heavier this time.
A path hugs the eastern shore of the lake, winding north towards the village. The trail is churned with mud, and in a few spots, the lake has spilled over and flooded your way. To the right, the Ashwood crowds upon you. Even Shelalu avoids peering into those darkened boughs.
"Let's hope the floods don't force us to forge a path through the Ashwood." Parthen says. "It has an evil reputation, one that I'll share, but only after we're safely indoors, in the daytime."
As you come up to a curve in the path, from the north you can see a company of decent-looking travelers coming in your direction. They have a team of laden mules. Seeing you in their path, they stop in their tracks, waiting to see what you'll do.
"Hello, fellow travellers! What news have you of the road ahead?"
"We would ask the same of you! You'll find Turtleback ahead, unchanged, other than the streets full of mud. You'll find folks settling in for the winter season; there's aught to keep a person occupied in this weather up there. Why ever since the Paradise sank, you'll find yourself fighting boredom up there, that's for certain!"
The paradise? Is that some den or river boat of gambling and dissapation?, Nicholae says somewhat disapprovingly.
"It was a river boat for gambling, but it's gone now. If that's why you're headed to Turtleback, might as well turn back now. It's gone."
Lleidr will look disappointed. "I was hoping to try my luck at the tables. My cousin recommended the place highly. He also spoke of its owner, a woman named Lucy? Do you know of her?"
The man harumphs a bit then replies:
"Lady Lucy? Well, we saw her a good bit around town, a high falutin' sort, if you know what I mean. A fancy lass, always carousing with a big crowd in town, wearing fashions more suited to Magnimar than a humble, small place like Turtleback.
But, she's gone now, died in the wreck, and while the townsfolk might say they're glad to be rid of Lady Lucy, they also regret losing the extra coin. Lots of out of towners like yourselves came to Turtleback for time on Paradise. Too bad they were on that boat when it sunk! Very sad day for our little village."
At this point, a severe looking woman in a somber dress of grey and black steps forward, silencing her husband with a withering glare before addressing you.
"Yes, Paradise sunk—it’s a tragedy, I’ll agree. But know what? Good riddance, I say. I know it ain’t nice to wish ill on no one, but I'm glad that strumpet Lucy’s at the bottom of the lake as well. Tartin’ around town with her chest all pushed out and flashing leg with every other step.... That type of walk might go over well down in Magnimar, but we’re respectable folk here! Wouldn’t be surprised to find out Paradise sunk on account of her bringing down Erastil’s judgment on the whole sinful lot of ’em!"