A short time after breakfast Carith opened wide the doors of the humble chapel up around the corner from the Sleeping Dragon. The heavy wooden doors glided easily upon well-oiled hinges, opening with barely a shove to reveal a room much more beautiful within than without - or at least it was once beautiful.
A small foyer opened into a room much longer than it was wide, lit by sunlight pouring through several stained-glass windows, most of which were broken. The shattered glass had been swept into piles along with a large amount of other detritus and garbage, waiting to be hauled away. Multiple unlit braziers dotted the room amongst a set of pews facing a podium atop a dais at the far end. Cubby-alcoves lined the walls, each adorned with a shrine to one god or another; some were well-stocked with paintings, statuettes, candles, incenses and the like, while others were bereft of all but a simple idol or tome of scripture, and fewer still were completely empty and ready to be dedicated.
Goldhall was in one such cubby, scrubbing away some sort of filth on the brick wall left by the previous vile inhabitants of the castle. Behind him were several bags filled with refuse sitting next to a bucket and mop. He did not seem to notice the entrance of the fellow devout man of the cloth.
Carith eyes the inside of the chapel with a critical eye, envisioning it as it must once have looked long ago. The sunlight playing off the stained glass windows would have been breath-taking, to be sure, and the priest could almost hear the many peoples of different faiths offering incantations and reverence to their respective deities. The young man smiled at the thought, before moving on to where Goldhall worked.
Without a word, the cleric joined in with the older man's labor, starting with the bags of refuse. Though not the strongest man in the Keep, Carith worked tirelessly, sweating profusely as he helped the other man toil at the clean-up of the Chapel. As they worked, the priest made an offer to potentially help speed up the process, since Carith's companions would likely want to move out soon to pursue another bounty.
"Master Goldhall, I would like to personally offer twenty pieces of gold to you to continue the restoration of this Chapel. Though not much, it should be enough to buy the sweat of some of the tradesmen and off-duty guardsmen who care to earn some extra coin and get the hard work of clearing this area of the garbage done so that the true renovations can begin." The priest counted out the coins to the man, trusting that Goldhall will make the arrangements and not simply pocket the money.
"And if that comes to pass, I shall sing songs of your prowess! Now, DRINK!"
Eina bumps her tankard to theirs and downs it in a single, long pull from it. With a bow, she leaves them to their business and returns to the others. He cheeks a little pink.
"What is that saying you outlanders have about elves? Something about longbows up backsides? I thought it was a joke," she quietly tells the others before setting down and enjoying her breakfast.
===
When shown the map of the keep, Eina shrugs and looks to the others.
"I am fine with whatever rooms you pick. I would like them to be close, though."
"And if that comes to pass, I shall sing songs of your prowess! Now, DRINK!"
Eina bumps her tankard to theirs and downs it in a single, long pull from it. With a bow, she leaves them to their business and returns to the others. He cheeks a little pink.
"What is that saying you outlanders have about elves? Something about longbows up backsides? I thought it was a joke," she quietly tells the others before setting down and enjoying her breakfast.
Pinto raised his mug at the girl, "Well done. It is obvious they prefer to hear from a pretty young woman than from a grumpy old man."
He raised his hands, "I'm not complaining. it's too late for that. In any case, you accomplished what I could not. Now they are our friendly rivals, which can only mean good things for the people here."
"Master Goldhall, I would like to personally offer twenty pieces of gold to you to continue the restoration of this Chapel. Though not much, it should be enough to buy the sweat of some of the tradesmen and off-duty guardsmen who care to earn some extra coin and get the hard work of clearing this area of the garbage done so that the true renovations can begin." The priest counted out the coins to the man, trusting that Goldhall will make the arrangements and not simply pocket the money.
Monty nodded a silent thanks when Carith began helping with the cleanup effort. When the coin was offered the oft-drunken priest set down his brush, wiped his sweaty brow, and replied with a genuine smile.
"That is a fine gesture and a fine idea to solicit help. I think I will do that. Here, I have something for you as well."He hustled away to a side office chamber with his emerald green robes whisking along the floor, returning moments later with a polished rod of stained wood tipped with an rune-etched piece of quartz crystal.
"I found this hidden away on my first day of duty here at the Keep. It probably belonged to the last priest who presided over this chapel. It has a few uses left in it, and I'm sure you and your friends can make use of it."
"I was cleaning this alcove for you to use as you see fit. Would you like me to place an order for any relics or tokens of Iomedae?"
It seems like a late night is in store for Erodin as he celebrates the thrill of his greatest victory. "I'm telling you, this creature was HUGE! Had legs going off everywhere, you'd chop one off and there'd be 5 more where they came from"
One soldier who fought alongside Smuckers grabbed his drink and sauntered over to the storytelling braggadocious tiefling, knowing that he too would warm himself in the adoring glow of his fellows. Nodding sagely to the details of Erodin's tale, he worked his way into the conversation,
"Knocked me to the ground, it did! It was the size of a house, and all I could do is raise my shield when it came down on us. Boy, it was a sight! Got a few good hits on him though."
A soft whisper slipped across the ears of the elf investigator, though no one was near enough to make such a sound. The subdued voice spoke in perfect elvish, complete with the Torian accent of most elves in the western realm. Turning to the only other elves in the vicinity, Taecuss saw one of them talking into his own cupped hand nonchalantly, surreptitiously,
"Strange company you keep, blood brother. Are you certain you fight for the right cause?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Gatekeeper Sabine entered the inn, calling out for a hearty lunch and for a round of drinks on her.
"Good men and visiting adventurers! Have a round on me!"
The dwarven couple hurried back behind the bar where they lined up mugs next to the tun from which the ale flowed, ready to accommodate the generous gesture. The off-duty lads cheered at the officer's kindness, while a few offered what were apparently oft-repeated requests for a dance and a date with the sturdy woman. She replied with her own brand of repeated rebukes seasoned with a jab at their aptitude both in and out of the bed, drawing laughter from nearly everyone present.
A pair of men produced a flute and double-drum, taking a seat upon a raised platform in the corner. The pair were well-practiced and played well together, filling the room with much-needed background music that is such a welcome amenity in many a tavern. After their first tune they began a second, a popular ditty that came to popularity sometime after the hellwar called "Be she a devil?". The tune was somewhat flat without a singer to carry the melody, though a few men tried (and failed) to remember the words and sing along.
The priest handed over the promised coins to Goldhall, picking up a couple of pieces of debris in the time it took the older man to return. As the follower of Battleborn hands him the wand, Carith received it reverently. Such an item was indeed very valuable and would surely come in handy in the coming adventures for the group.
"On behalf of my fellows and myself, I thank you for this. I hope we prove worthy of such a gift."
As Goldhall inquires about any items the cleric might want to acquire for the alcove set aside for Iomedae the priest nods absently at first, using the scant amount of imagination he has to envision how it might look after being restored. "Yes, perhaps a small altar draped in sky blue, with a few votive candles in silver holders. A small statuette of the Inheritor would be nice, as well...
Pinto looked at the devil-blooded and shook his head, "I'm glad you're good with a weapon, friend, because you would starve as a singer."
He listened for the chorus a couple of times and ten joined in himself, a deep baritone voice coming from underneath that ruff beard.
He did not understand why everyone was laughing.
------------
Brandt has been quiet as he devours his breakfast with the appetite of a growing boy.
When he's finished he takes the captured staff to Goldhall, strolling along with Carith and waiting politely for the Cleric to conclude his business with the man.
Nodding politely to Goldhall when he has a chance to speak. "Good morning to you sir. We captured this staff from the Shaman who was attempting to work some mischief under the keep last night. I was hoping you could tell me something of it's properties?"
"Some men are born with the talent of a skald," Eina says as she hops up on a table near those playing and looks at both Erodin and Pinto with a bemused smirk as she shakes her head at them.
"Sadly, you two cannot sing to please the crows! This is how that song should go!"
The room grew ever more raucous as the song was joined by Erodin, though more for his forthright confidence than his performance skill. Drunken laughter followed the reminder of his dark heritage, as did a few concerned or even dark looks from a few who likely retained harsh feelings for devilkind.
When Pinto joined the chorus the laughter rose to a fever pitch, albeit briefly. Completely unable to sing in the correct pitch or spout lyrics in tempo, his performance was so atrocious that the levity tapered off for the growing sense of embarrassed shock felt by the drinking soldiers.
Before the uncomfortable moment threatened to kill the mood utterly, Eina's song and dance blew the roof off the place in an eruption of cheers. The sturdy table provided the perfect stage where the entire room could see her fancy footwork, swaying hips, and amazing control of her voice. She cleverly inserted the word "me" for every "she" in the lyrics, making her the center of attention both in and out of song.
The companions were proving again and again that they were company worth keeping, planting seeds of trust and contentment among the residents of the Keep.
As Goldhall inquires about any items the cleric might want to acquire for the alcove set aside for Iomedae the priest nods absently at first, using the scant amount of imagination he has to envision how it might look after being restored. "Yes, perhaps a small altar draped in sky blue, with a few votive candles in silver holders. A small statuette of the Inheritor would be nice, as well...
"Easily done. I estimate a cost of ten to twenty gold coins, depending on the quality of silverwork and artistic skill purchased. I will place an order right away. Expect a fortnight before their arrival."
Brandt had waited patiently for the priests to conclude their business before introducing business of his own. In his hands he carried the gnarled staff and stone talisman taken from the grumpkin shaman the night before. Nodding politely to Goldhall when he had a chance to speak, the skald offered,
"Good morning to you sir. We captured this staff from the Shaman who was attempting to work some mischief under the keep last night. I was hoping you could tell me something of its properties?"
Monty glanced at the pieces, nodding in appreciation for the potential value of these magical treasures.
"I would be happy to do so. Perhaps in exchange for a healthy donation to the chapel?"
This staff is made from a mostly straight piece of ash that has been hardened by magical petrification. The head is a curvy gnarled tip that vaguely resembles a claw, suitable for hanging items such as lanterns or necklaces from.
It acts as a Quarterstaff +1 that grants its current wielder the feat Combat Casting.
The talisman that hung from the grumpkin shaman's neck is imbued with permanent magic, unlike the more common smaller versions that the other grumpkins wore. The etched spiral symbol is imbedded with silver, highlighting the carving at its deepest recess.
Grumpkin Shaman Talisman:
•The wearer takes on certain traits akin to creatures from the elemental plane of earth. The wearer no longer needs to breathe and is immune to bleed and poison effects.
•Grants the feat Augment Summoning for creatures summoned by the wearer with the Earth subtype.
Pinto ordered some alchemical items that he knew would be useful on special occasions. Better to have and not need...
He ordered two alchemical fires, two flasks of acid, and 2 flasks of holy water.
The brawler was ready to go and dig up that treasure as soon as shovels were made available to them.
He nodded towards the elf, "Aye, agreed. I'm ready to go now. It's not I like I have anything else to do here the rest of the day."
-----------
Eina spends a good portion of the night singing and dancing. The next morning, she looks tired, but happy.
"I would like to see if there is a wagon we may trade for, but that is not so important now. I will see that Thud is ready to travel."
She polishes off what is on her plate and stands with a grin as she makes for the stables.
Carith gladly hands over 20 gold coins to Goldhall, nodding. "Please try to order some detailed pieces, if you please. Iomedae is not vain like some Gods, but I wouldn't want Her altar to look second-rate. Many thanks again, Sir." The priest clasped forearms with the man once again before leaving Brandt to his business with the fellow priest.
After making his way back to the Inn, the cleric puts thoughts of the altar far from his mind for now. Preaching to these people here was important, but making sure they were safe from harm and able to worry about things like faith was even more critical. Perhaps one day he could hang up his adventuring boots and speak to a mass of people as it was done in the bigger cities in Atma, but for now his place was with these companions he had joined not long ago.
At Erodin's and Eina's words, the priest nods his agreement, eager to be off and see to securing the Keep's latest shipment.
Brandt nods agreeably. "That sounds very fair Sir." He hands over the 20gp to Goldhall and waits patiently for any results.
As he waits he looks over the chapel seeing the hard work going into it, thinking how much an area of worship would benefit the keep. He also ponders ways of keeping Eina of the booze. :)
Monty took the large handful of coin from Brandt and set it down upon an open space in the alcove he had been cleaning. Opting not to crassly count the generous donation, he extended his fingers over the staff and talisman while generating the detect magic needed to discern the magical properties locked within. After about a full minute of focus, he dismissed his spell and returned the items to the skald, explaining the details of their capabilities.
"Powerful magicks are held within this talisman and staff. If truth be told, I am envious of that talisman!"
---------------
---------------
With full bellies, refilled waterskins, and renewed vigor from a good night's sleep, the party disembarked from their new residence - the Keep on the Borderlands. The clanking and rattling from the lowering portcullis and retracting drawbridge echoed over the narrow canyons behind them as they walked back down the winding pathway leading back to the old thruway, cognizant of the sheer drop on either side of them. Safely reaching the road they turned back westward, wanting to put these gray stony hills behind them and return to the green wooded terrain below where they had first done battle with the wretched grumpkin menace, where apparently a chest filled with coin and other valuables had been lost during a hasty escape.
Two uneventful hours breezed by, much more enjoyable than the last time the group came this way, assaulted by harsh weather and harsher enemies. Not far down the road past the bridge that crossed the river southward, the familiar scene of the mudslide came into view. It was still mostly wet and malleable due to the heavy rains, totally obscuring the road and adjacent ground, seeming to have flowed downhill, southbound over the short cliff into the raging river. There were no apparent enemies around, though the few remaining footprints were difficult to draw conclusions upon due to the recent weather.
There are many tracks here - some from the grumpkins, some from the party yesterday, but more importantly there are larger tracks (medium humanoid sized) that appear to be the most recent that amass around a hollow in the mud, then trail off northwest. These tracks are booted and some are animal-like, though elongated like a bipedal humanoid.
The hollow in the mud has some fading drag marks leading away from it, made difficult to distinguish by the mass of foot prints and rain, though the careful eye can make them out. Something with corner edges was dragged out of the mud here, leaving behind a hollow where the object used to be.
Carith's brow furrows in irritation as he comes forward and confirms with his own eyes Erodin's statement. The priest's gaze swings about, following the various footprints and marks across the ground, but he can't seem to get a bearing on where the most recent ones are or where they might lead.
The cleric glances at his companions in frustration. "Can anyone make any sense of this jumbled mess?" Carith internally berates himself for not having the foresight to investigate the grumpkins' actions when they encountered them here previously. This situation could have already been solved. The priest then says a quick prayer to Iomedae to ask forgiveness for his self-pitying attitude.
The priest stands off to the side, trying to stay out of the way and not make any more confusing tracks for those that might be more skilled at finding where the chest might have gone.
When Eina joins up the others, her face is glowing red and some of the guards following her can be heard snickering about how they found her hanging from her belt off of a hook. Thud looks rather satisfied, if ansty to be out from the keep.
"Not. A. Word," is all she says to the others as she leads the wooly yak past them and through the gates.
===
A couple hours later, as the others grow frustrated and despair, the short young woman hands the rope that she'd been using to lead Thud by to Erodin and pulls out her staff from his pack. She makes a show of using it like a dowsing rod before pointing it down the right trail.
"Our missing treasure is that way," she says confidently as she begins to follow the tracks.
This red copper ring was taken from the finger of the fallen grumpkin shaman. It is lined with delicate arcane runes that flash when the ring is first put on, and every time a spell is cast into or out of it.
---------------------------------------
This staff is made from a mostly straight piece of ash that has been hardened by magical petrification. The head is a curvy gnarled tip that vaguely resembles a claw, suitable for hanging items such as lanterns or necklaces from.
---------------------------------------
The talisman that hung from the grumpkin shaman's neck is imbued with permanent magic, unlike the more common smaller versions that the other grumpkins wore. The etched spiral symbol is imbedded with silver, highlighting the carving at its deepest recess.
LOOT
Pinto tried on the ring and nodded, "So I can just heal myself by saying the magic word, eh?"
He frowned, "So can I heal others as well? Do I have to touch my wounded area or what?
--------------
TRACKING
The old man did not find the tracks until the devil-blooded pointed them to him, "I see what you mean?
He inspected them closely trying to match the footprints to something he had seen before, "Do they look like those animal-headed humanoids we fought?"
------------
He inspected them closely trying to match the footprints to something he had seen before, "Do they look like those animal-headed humanoids we fought?"
With the storm oracle leading the way the party headed northwest where the tracks led, off in pursuit of the errant chest that was previously bound for the Keep. The heavy rainfall made the trail difficult to follow, obscuring the shape of the tracks and removing most signs of foliage trample, but Eina's grit and determination proved up the challenge.
Drag marks suddenly reappeared along the pursued's route, probably due to the sheer weight growing too much for even the brute(s) who'd managed to carry it this far, suddenly making the tracking little more than child's play. With the road south of them far out of sight, the trees grew more clustered and the land more filled with steep hills that prevented long distance visibility - a landscape likely rich in potential hiding spots.
A mile or two back the drag marks changed to deep hoof marks, indicating the employment of some beast of burden awaiting them along their path, further corroborated by the piles of dung near the change in tracks. Following this new set of signs was not difficult in the soft wet ground, especially considering they were fresh - not washed out by rainfall, these were made in the last few hours. Following with renewed gusto at this realization, the party rose to the top of a wooded hill where the scent of a campfire wafted on the wind, blowing up from the clustered trees downhill, north of their current position.
A hundred yards into the woods was a seemingly-empty campsite. It consisted of a circle of stones ringed pile of still-hot ash (known by the light trickle of smoke rising from it), a clothes-line with several shirts and pants drying hanging to dry, an axe wedged into a stump near some chopped wood, a bored tied-up mule its saddlebags set upon ground, and a poorly-camouflaged sturdy wooden chest beneath some leafy branches.
A hundred yards into the woods was a seemingly-empty campsite. It consisted of a circle of stones ringed pile of still-hot ash (known by the light trickle of smoke rising from it), a clothes-line with several shirts and pants drying hanging to dry, an axe wedged into a stump near some chopped wood, a bored tied-up mule its saddlebags set upon ground, and a poorly-camouflaged sturdy wooden chest beneath some leafy branches.
A hundred yards into the woods was a seemingly-empty campsite. It consisted of a circle of stones that ringed a pile of still-hot ash (assumed to be hot from your distance by the light trickle of smoke rising from it), a clothes-line with several shirts and pants hanging to dry, an axe wedged into a stump near some chopped wood, a bored and tied-up mule with its saddlebags set upon the ground, and a poorly-camouflaged sturdy wooden chest beneath some leafy branches.
Carith's eyes narrowed in suspicion at the peaceful scene before the group, the placid mule adding to the priest's relaxed feeling. The stage seemed too set, though the cleric's eyes kept getting drawn to the chest hidden beneath the leaves.
Carith nods his agreement to Erodin's plan, his gaze sweeping from side to side, expecting the mentioned ambush at any moment. There was no telling how many these beastmen numbered out here in the wilds. "That seems prudent, though let us not tarry too long, in case this is a decoy set up to waste our time."
Brandt finds the whole scene very suspicious, far too peaceful for a camp of beastmen in hostile territory.
He looks around carefully, agreeing with Erodin's idea, but wondering if the Beastmen were doing exactly the same.
"Maybe we could send one in to see if it is an ambush?" He says quietly.
Eina grins and listens for a bit before bravado gets the best of her. With as quiet of a step as she can manage, she sneaks up to the poorly hidden chest.
Pinto held his breath and waited to see what would happen once the girl neared the chest.
His eyes darted back and forth to discern any foul play...
----------------