I have rations in case we need to camp here....although I likely will not be eating.....*hack*...If need be, I can rig up an alarm to prevent someone intruding on us....
in case we stay overnight....
Athene climbs back to join the others
"I think the one who was casting spells may have been some kind of cleric , I don't recognize any holy symbol in particular but the runic tattoo's and the mace look like ritual artifacts to me. The mace is made out of some part of a machine, gears and such like and that seems to me to suggest some sort of Human god as your gods tend to me more involved in machinery than anyone elses. Could be some sort of Machine cult , perhaps we are somewhere near Numinaria"
[bold] Hmm...let me look at that mace....I might be able to shed some light on it... [/bold]
to determine weapon quality/origin....I assume I am still sickened, otherwise the roll is +5, not +3
to determine position based on the sky, again if not sickened, this is +7, not +5
"The Sword was a slightly odd style as well, I do not recognize it as being the style in use anywhere I have studied. However you may be more familiar with human blade fashions "
She hands over the Machete like blade to be looked at by one of the better blade experts. Different styles of Archery are more her cup of delicate herbal concoction.
When Athene theorizes the man being a cleric, Saranie decides this warrants inspection as well; perhaps she'd know something more about it.
to check weapon quality/manufacture
"Well," he says, "... it's certainly more of a chopping or slashing style than most. Hey, Therin, look at this thing. What do you think?" he gestures to the swords. "Probably useful in heavily grown locales, I'd say. A survivalist tool. Odd manufacture. Kind of like a lesser kukri, really." he opines.
Looking up to Saranie with a sheepish grin, "Thanks, toots."
Pavo stands up, taking a moment to brush himself off and run his fingers through his perpetually tousled hair. He gives one of the ghoul corpses a passing kick, his leather knee-high boots making a dull thud. "Bloody undead..."
Addressing the group, "I'm all for hunkering down, but I'm not sure if this is the place to do it. It seems to be easily defensible, but it also leaves us extremely exposed to... whatever threats may be out there. I say we move. Finding water should be a priority, but I have about a weeks worth of rations in my pack. I could also use a bit more wandage since mine appears to have stopped working."
At the mention of what may inhabit this unusual place, Pavo steps to the edge of the platform, looking out into the perpetual darkness, wondering exactly what my lie in the distance. Or, for that matter, what eyes may be returning his gaze...
Staveon rolls his eyes. "A'ri'te, fine. 'M hung-over, w're h'rt, but we wanna go?" L't's take a vote. All f'r goin' say "aye", all o'pposed say "nay". A'right? A'right."
He counts up the votes. "Saranie, w'at're y' thinkin' 'f it? Y'r th' decidin' vote th's spl't f'r now: Therin's g't 's traps 'n we're pretty tired, but, I c'n see th' value of not stayin' here, too. G'ttin' s'me scoutin' done 'r s'mthin', 'n' th're c'ld be threats."
Well, let's move out then...could be worse things lurking around. I don't like the idea of being in a closed unknown space.
"Oof. Well, with Therin chang'n' his mind, we're at three t' go, 'n me t' stay - outvoted. Down we go." Staveon grabs his gear, heads down the ladder, and takes a look around.
"You might not be too far off 'bout Numeria, Athene" he says. "Now, if m'head would stop pounding maybe I could think."
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"I believe Staveon is correct. We have food and drink for at least enough time to recover from the battle. Upraised terrain would give us an easier chance at defense if we're attacked. Still, if you three believe we are better off leaving, then I will follow you."
As the party motions to leave, Saranie seems to have a moment of realisation.
"Wait, I think they were fighting over something before we got here, weren't they?"
Picking up her torch, Saranie looks around the middle of the platform, hoping to find the object the two parties had been conflicted about before their arrival.
"It might be useful, or at least give us some kind of information about just were we've ended up."
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"We don't want to move to far at night we could stumble into some ghouls and most of us can't see well at night. I'll lead as I can see best without a light source and try to find us somewhere near a water source to camp until morning."
Turning to Saranie
" You are right whatever they were fighting about must be important to them at least I think it was the Phial of powder we should take it with us to see if we can work out what it is.
Athene leads off
to try and find a water source in the environment
to keep a look out for anything else , hoping there is enough light to see by with low light vision
[bold] "On further reflection...*cough*..maybe staying is a good idea...I'm still a bit queasy....*hack*...[/bold]
+7 if not sickened to look around
"Athene, Pavo: wait. Therin's not well... 'n I'm not fully better, yet. Hear th't? Therin... went with his original vote; th't puts it back at 3:2 stay-t'-go. We sh'ld stay. This's g'd f'rtifications, no way up but th' ladder, an' we've got no idea what's out there - you're good at see'ng in th' d'rk, but... we're not. Let's rest. Lead us t' water after we sleep th's... everythin'... off." he asks. "I've g't 'nough t' help share a bit."
After taking one last look around (still ruminating on everything he'd seen ), Staveon climbs back up the latter - slowly because of his dizziness, and gets back to the roof.
"Getch'r trap ready, please, Therin." he says. He unrolls his bedroll, and blanket, and tent supplies, and sets up a tent in the middle of the structure. "Therin - you're f'rst, aft'r y' finish th' 'larm. I'll t'k f'rst watch... pr'fr'bly w'th someone not... oof... so headache-y 's I 'm right now." he holds his head for a moment for the dizziness to pass. "S-s-Saranie, 'f you 'r you, Athene, 'r 'ny good at treatin' somethin', please make sure th't Therin's a'right after th' ghouls. Somthin' 's... 's treatin' h'm badly."
He looks a little sheepish for a moment. "S... sorry I don't got more'n one tent. It's... small. P'rtty big f'r a Halfling, though!" he grins... then winces from the ache of slowly shedding whatever really potent intoxicant the Calistrian priestess had given him.
Then, he starts pacing, singing a low Bloodstone song, watching, and, occasionally, wincing, waiting for the others to settle down or get into guard mode themselves.
He eventually notices the smell and - upon being given the go-ahead from the priestesses - he rolls the ghoul bodies off the top of the thing onto the ground below.
"Oof." he says, "... and I thought... f-whew... they smelled bad... *huff*... on the outside."
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"I'm thankful for your offer, Staveon, but I have my own. I'd be a foolish traveler if I went without. I'll take a morning watch, if it is fine with you all. I pray for the Dawnflower's blessings as the sun rises, and it will be best for me to hold guard then."
[/bold] Alright, setting up traps..although it more an alarm than a trap.....but better than nothing...*wheeze*....[/bold]
"I am in no rush to go anywhere , curiosity can wait a few hours or days. It is true I need less rest than most humans so I shall rest now and then take watch until we move out. "
Athene settles down to rest, rising after a few hours to take her turn on guard.
"Right." he says, smiling. "Time to switch the guard."
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Upon waking, Staveon heads over to Athene. "Here," he says, "let me help you in treating Therin."
plus whatever I get from Saranie's roll
[bold] updated hp 13/31 [/bold]
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Searching the fight area for anything that might have fallen, you find a small drawstring bag. Its material is unfamiliar, woven but with a odd, slippery texture. Inside are two of the small pocket-sized clocks that some gnomes or dwarves make, watches, as some call them. One appears to be made of gold and the other of silver. While you know little of such things yourself, you've only seen well off Andoran or Drumish merchants with such things.
As you stand watch after Staveon has gone to rest, you get a better idea of where you are. The moon isn't visible, but you hear the sound of the ocean aways off, and the gentle lap of water closer by. A bay or river perhaps emptying perhaps? The salt in the air seems to confirm it. You aren't near the breakers, but salt water is close.
A soft sound, so quiet you barely notice, tickles your ear. The gravel shifting and crunching under a light and careful step. You see nothing and only hear it once, but you are quite certain something was there. Whatever it is doesn't attempt to get past the string and bell Therin rigged on the ladder. Now, whether it was man, monster, or simple beast is beyond even your ears.
The sword's an confusing one. In shape the bastard offspring of a machete and falchion, something someone who doesn't know what he's doing would make. The material itself though is highest quality. No hint of forging or layers of material, just pure sword steel, honed to a knife edge. Who let's an apprentice mess with good steel?
The dawn slowly breaks, though the fog continues to shroud everything in a soggy woolen blanket. With better light you get a better look at where you are. A circular platform of cement, stucco, or some such thing. It's featureless, aside from plate or hatch just big enough for a armored man to fit through. The half-inch bolts securing it appear to be rusted shut though. It would take considerable time, and tools you likely don't have, to open that.
The platform itself appears to take up most of the flattened top of a small hill. Around the base is a weed-filled bed of gravel and crushed stone. Looking around, you notice that the bodies of the warrior and the two ghouls are gone.
"Hmph. Wasteful." Staveon says, looking at the sword. "Giving such fine steel to the hammer of a kid who doesn't know how to use it! Might as well give it to an actual kid - of a goat. Ridiculous, really."
As dawn breaks, Pavo stirs emitting a large contented yawn. After giving himself a good scratch and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he rolls to his feet and begins his usual morning ritual of cracking his joints and stretching out the kinks in his limbs. "Man, we gotta find an inn or something, my backside can't take much more of this... whatever this stone is. A nice king-size goose down mattress, now that would do wonders for my aching limbs." He gives one last great stretch before finally checking to ensure that his wrist sheaths are properly secure. That done, he glances around to see how the rest of the group faired overnight.
"We're still here, eh? I was hoping it was all just a bad dream..." Pavo looks around with a sheepish grin. He steps lightly to the edge of the platform and takes in what he can of their surroundings, eventually peering down below. "Huh, that's odd. Unless I'm imagining things, it appears the bodies of those chaps have wandered off. Did you two notice anything strange last night?"
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"Last night while most of you were asleep there was some very quiet movement around the base of this object, I was not absolutely certain I heard anything. But with the bodies gone there was clearly something very stealthy moving around as it managed to take the bodies without me noticing. It made no attempt to get up here so I saw no need to wake anyone.
The mist is hiding it but we are close to a Sea Coast, probably a river estuary or something as there does not seem to be a lot of waves, but the salt is in the air and I can hear the water.
We should probably head to the coast and try to mark some landmarks so we can find this place again. After that we need to find some civilization both for the comfort of Pavo and so we can find out were we are"
She looks over at Staveon's obvious disgust with the sword
"It did not look that bad to me, but blades are not something I know much about"
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You wish you'd had a chance to see the man actually swing it. You can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles a sword. Unfortunately, the weird maybe cleric just starred and went after your mind, and the fighter just pushed Athene off the edge. That does tell you something though. No Oppara dandy would try that. The man held back and when he did strike it was to take someone out of the fight, not just nick them. At a guess, this was something he did fairly often, rushing an armed person without getting impaled is trickier than it looks, so he fights in places where pushing a foe back is a viable tactic.
Searching the fight area for anything that might have fallen, you find a small drawstring bag. Its material is unfamiliar, woven but with a odd, slippery texture. Inside are two of the small pocket-sized clocks that some gnomes or dwarves make, watches, as some call them. One appears to be made of gold and the other of silver. While you know little of such things yourself, you've only seen well off Andoran or Drumish merchants with such things.
Setting off in the direction of the water, or at least where the sound seems to be coming from, you descend the small hill. Picking your way through scrubby bush and scattered trees. The sun seems to be directly behind you, so you're heading west. West towards the ocean? Shortly you come across an old road. Curiously, it seems to be made of gravel held together by a tar and rolled out flat, like a great licorice sheet. The surface is cracked, with grass and bushes growing through it. Obviously, it hasn't been used or maintained in a long time. Despite this, it provides a fine path for walking and seem to be heading in the same direction you are, as well as stretching back the opposite direction to the east.
Following the road, you notice large poles, smoothed tree trunks turned into poles really, stand beside you everyone couple hundred feet. Black lines stretch between some, while others have theirs lying limply on the ground.
You reach a intersection, with another identical road crossing this one running north to south. Beyond this crossroads, your paths turns into a overgrown gravel track. Old trees line the right side, while the left slopes down into a marshy field. A few hundred feet beyond, the marshy ground to you left abruptly rises to a flat-topped hillock, and your path ends. Beyond and to the right is a maze of small channels and mudflats.
Climbing the rise, it is only a dozen feet or so, you see it continues forwards, and to the south, to the waterfront, a bit of solid ground on the estuarial plane. The water itself laps softly against the grassy knoll, muddy and brackish. The smell of rotting plants and animals fills your nostrils, and the sound of birds provide a counterpoint to the soft water. It's actually rather pleasant, in a melancholy You cannot see to the other side, which means it must be a quarter mile or more across. To the right and left there is only this small rise, surrounded by muddy tidal flats. The only path, unless you want to attempt the mud, seems to be that crossroads you past.
Okay, now things are getting creepy. That road maybe broken up now, but when it was laid out it was flatter than a boy's chest, and probably as smooth. The River Kingdoms doesn't have road like that. Hell, not even Druma or the dwarves have roads like that. And that intersection, perfect ninety degree angels between the four roads. The gravel path you followed was also a dike, you recognize them from fields in the riverlands. The hillock was likewise man-made. Whoever lives, or lived, here had serious magic and skill, and used it on what appears to be a road in nowwhere.
Hmm. This is odd. The trees along the gravel path are unfamiliar to you. Obviously planted though as they run in a line alongside and nowhere else. The grass seems ordinary enough, and a few of the small trees on the hill you descended where evergreens of some kind, others where deciduous, some sort of scrub oak. The birds appear to be common wading and marsh birds. You're definitely not in River Kingdoms anymore, and the doesn't seem like the eastern edge of the Inner Sea either.
"We have come a long way, I think the wildlife and tree's are not the same as those around home, I do not think we are even on the same continent.
Also I have not seen anything like these roads they seem much better and more expensive or magical than anything I have seen. But they do not seem to go anywhere or do anything which does not seem to make sense as well as looking abandoned.
I still think we should follow one of the roads as they must link up to a settlement somewhere or alternatively we may come across locals using the road. The alternative wading through mud flats does not seem either safe or sensible, there could well be crocodiles out there"
She then spends her time looking out at the sea, as this is the first time she had come across the sea.
"It's not that the blade is badly made - it's a waste of the steel. I mean, it's okay if you want an axe or hatchet, but they were clearly going for a sword. Why attempt at a falcatta when they could have made two kukri for the same load? And even if they made this much of a mistake... it's just wasteful to not recast it that way." he sighs. "The balance is all wrong, and it's way too heavy at the top - it's an annoying piece of work as a weapon, and why make a sword for hatchet-work? Ah, whatever. I'm not going to waste it just because someone didn't know what they were doing." He sheathes it, hooks it on, ready to use it for it's job: clearing rubble. "Still - that man... hm. I wish I saw him fight. He seems... used to being in high, tight spaces. Pushing you off the side wasn't accidental: he knew what he was doing. Conservation of effort - quite interesting."
"Athene? I... definitely agree: I don't think we're in Numeria. These roads... they're... curse it all, I can't even begin to guess. There's been nothing like them. Anywhere. The magic... the engineering is... it's insane." Staveon breaks into a slight sweat trying to contemplate the engineering complexities and the amount of finance the local peerage must have sunk into something like this, ... only to abandon it. "Pavo, Therin, you guys ever heard of anything like... well, like this?" he gestures at the roads and poles. "Gods of Golarion, that dyke alone..." he mutters.
The gravel path you followed also served as a dike, you recognize them from fields in the riverlands. The hillock was likewise man-made. It would have taken powerful magic or a lot of time and labor to move this much earth and have it stay put after such neglect.
The you aren't familiar with the trees that line the gravel road. The grass, scrub and other trees you've seen don't seem unusual. Deciduous and evergreen mixed. Could be anywhere between Brevoy and Cheliax. The birds appear to be common wading and marsh birds, some of which actually seem familiar, though you'd have to examine one up close be certain. If you could just get a good look at some of the local fauna, you'd be able to give a much better idea.
*Edit* The only bearings you're really able to get are the sun is rising opposite the water. That puts the water as west and the intersecting road you passed as north and south.
You may not have the experience some of the others do, but you know fog and water. The fog will probably burn off for a bit later this morning, giving you a chance to really get a look around.
I look around to see if there are any points of reference for navigation
anyone recognize this place? I am unfamiliar with this area. Maybe we should look for a town?
Unfortunately, the only points of reference at the moment are the sun, the water, and the road.
Since the blade was obviously not a dagger, Pavo doesn't pay it any mind. Hopping from one foot to the other, Pavo is eager to be off. After descending from the platform he trots ahead, eager to find out exactly where they are and what mysteries lie within the concealing fog. As the group reaches the road, Pavo abruptly drops to all fours to get a better look at the strange black surface.
"Oh man, I'm pretty sure we're not in the River Kingdoms anymore! Come here guys, feel this!" He says as he runs his palm over the oddly smooth surface. He glances up to see if anyone else is as interested in the odd road, and in doing so spots the poles and the cables connecting them. He stands up, mouth agape, road forgotten. "What in the world are those!?"
He runs over to one of the poles, rapping his knuckles against the wooden surface, listening closely to the sound it makes. He stares back at the rest of the party, his face beaming with the joyous wonder of youth.
As the party finally arrives at the dike, he quickly pinches his nose, waving a hand in front of his face, "Peeee-yew! This place stinks! I'd like to see that sea (heh), but I don't think this is the way to do it. We should double back and head down that road we passed. Maybe we should try heading south to see if it will warm up a bit for us? Speaking of warming up, I have a feeling that if we wait for the sun to rise a bit, it will burn off most of this fog so we can get a better look around."
In response to Staveon's comment, "No Stavy, I haven't seen anything like this in my days on the road. You should know, I've spent most of them with you!"
The poles sound fairly intact. They've started to decay a bit, but less than you'd have expected. Wood does't usually hold up this well in place like this. It looks/feels like they may have been soaked or painted in tar, maybe the same thing used on the roads?
"Therin, Athene? What do you think? Would heading south get us warmer quickly enough? I'm fine -" he grins, "I've had to learn to get used to the cold."
He grows more serious, "... but I understand that not everyone was raised in the northern part of the River Kingdoms or Brevoy. I want us to keep alive. Also, agreed: we need this troop to be solid, so you two need to be on Survival."
Staveon looks at Athene.
"Also: could you climb these strange poles? See from up high? My eyes aren't always the best. These strange bars on the side look kind of like they're meant to climb - see how they're evenly spaced up the column? I can go first, if you like, to make sure they're stable. We should be cautious to avoid those black lines: I don't want to run into any sort of mutant assassin vine."
"Hey, Mina. Check out that powder with your weird magic stuff. Any of this ringing any magical bells? You ever seen anything like this stuff?" he gestures around to the poles, the road, and the dike.
During these moments of indecision and discussion, unless anyone objects, Mina takes the opportunity to examine the items the group has collected so far: the vial of powder, the machete, the gear mace thing, and the watches. She detects magic to see if there's any there. If so, she tries to use her arcane knowledge and spell-crafting abilities to identify them or learn more about them. And, whether magic or not, she appraises the items to see how much these things might be worth.
She also sweeps the area with her magical detection gaze.
Apparently she is more focused on the potential treasures in her hands than whatever is happening around her.
As far as direction goes...
"North, South, whatever. Doesn't matter to me. Hey, if we can't make up our minds, I could always roll for it. Bet my dice would make as good a decision as any. But, sure, Pavo, if you're cold and you actually think walking South would make much of a difference, I'm fine with that. How do you know we aren't in the part of the world where you go north to get warmer, though?"
[bold] I think that heading south might me a good idea..can't really determine where we are. I think that if we follow this road, but off to the side in case anyone comes by is a good idea. [/bold]
"It's always warmer to the south!"
" Alright, Therin, Pavo, I'm following you two... "
In the absence of any protest to the contrary, our group heads back to the crossroads, and then heads South, just a short ways off to the side of the road, if the terrain allows.
Mina is mostly focused on examining the new items they have acquired as she walks behind the leaders, counting on them to notice any threats and choose decent paths.
"Indeed. Now that we've got a tracker weigh in, let's go!" Staveon grins (though it's a bit forced, despite his genuine excitement), moving lightly on the balls of his feet, mules and dogs by his side, ad he takes up a defensive first position.
A few tries finds a pole with handholds firm enough to climb. It takes hardly any time at all to reach the top, and can see only the the ground around you, with a bit of extra fog in between. It seems the fog is a cloud sitting on the earth rather than a mist rising from it.
Heading back to the crossroads, you take the southern path. Unlike the other three paths, this one has a slightly raised path of pale concrete on the eastern, left, side. The right, west, consists of a sold hedge of bushes before slopping down slightly into the marshy field.
Following Therin's advice, you move off the road to the overgrown, but more passable left. As you pick your way forward, you notice the ground beneath seems unusually dark, almost black, and angular stones lie waiting to twist unwary feet. Distracted, Mina trips and falls.
It'd be easier to determine how much these things are worth if you know something about where they came from. The watches are the easiest. You actually have something to compare them to. The ones you're familiar with sale anywhere from 150 to 350 gold pieces. In the River Kingdoms, the Inner Seas greatest black market, prices vary widely. You've heard in bigger cities or in the dwarven kingdom they are generally around 250. These two are fine examples. The glass front is a bit scratched, but otherwise excellent. No waviness or bubbles. Front and back are finely etch, with whorls and patterns covering the entire surface. There's a symbol of some kind on the back plate. A shield with two interlocking characters. Letters maybe? None you recognize. They seem to wind fine. You'd say you could probably get at least 300 each, probably more.
As for the mace, you're clueless. The metal is good. And the gears seem well made, but you just don't know enough about what it's for to guess. As is, 20 gold as a novelty weapon. The machete, 10-15 maybe. Salereon doesn't seem to think it worth much for than a tool, so most others interested would think the same.
Now for the interesting one, the powder vial. None of the others show any magic, but you swear that while concentrating this one sort of flickers out of the corner of your eye. Everyone time you concentrate on it, there isn't anything there, but there seems to be something, like the echo of a glimmer, just enough to make you feel uncomfortable saying it isn't magical. As for what it might be, you can't say until you actually get a solid look at the aura.
Distracted by the elusive whatever it is, you stumble on the blackened ground. Arms out, you catch yourself from a potentially nasty face-plant, and find yourself exchanges gazes with a half-buried skull.
You're walking over someone's livelihood. Both of you have seen enough burned homes and barns reclaimed by the wilds to know what it looks like. You'd have to walk a few hundred feet back to the cross-roads to be certain, but each of you is sure that this quadrant made by the intersecting roads was filled with buildings, and they are all gone now. Odd thing, there number of bricks is wrong. There are too many lying around for a couple of brick chimney's, but not enough for brick houses or other buildings.
Old charcoal. Enough of it to stain the soil black for decades after. From the look of the bushes and other plants here, the fire probably took place thirty years ago, plus or minus ten depending on the seasons here. Everything here burned, and the fires were hot. There are bits of metal, iron or steel rusted away to almost nothing, splashes of melted copper, and others lying near the surface.
These people sure seemed found of angles and planes, even the bricks trying to catch your feet are uniformly angular where the edges haven't worn off. Catching your balance after particularly spiteful one tried, and failed, to wrench your ankle. You eyes end up facing just the right, or wrong direction. An eddy in the fog opens up for just a moment. To your left, two hundred feet from the road you are following is another road running parallel. It doesn't meet up the the one you came down, so it must end before at some point in that direction. Another road runs into it, running back east into the mist, forming a T-junction. More important than the intersection is what's standing in it. In the middle of the road, looking for all the world as though it owned the place is one of the largest and meanest dogs you've ever seen. Slightly taller than a riding dog, it carries inordinate muscle on a powerful frame, and those jaws look as though they were meant to crush giant's bones. As you lock gazes, its lips draw back into a snarl, just before it vanishes as the mists swirl again.