Aterro kicks open the door to the building and finds the place ransacked, but empty of enemies. The building appears to have been used for storage of foods, goods, and other tools or useful community items. However, it has been completely several sacks of flour are cut open and spread on the floor. Shovels, hoes, spading forks are scattered. Sacks of potatoes, onions, and parsnips are also opened and scattered, with the food simply left to rot. It appears even some of the floorboards were torn up. Clearly somebody was looking for something...
While the others explore the buildings, Vrindel stands outside and keeps watch. He investigates the faint trail a bit more to see if he can determine what might be using it.
Survival
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"Ruthlessness is the kindness of the wise," Aterro barks back, almost automatically. He kicks about in the varied debris, ensuring that there is nothing of import here, either objects or enemies. "To shirk from a fight does not mean it will not happen, simply that it will begin on the enemy's terms and not your own. Despair is a sign of weakness."
Finding nothing of note, he nods grimly and exits the building. "Examine your thoughts," he intones as though the title of a cook's chapter. "Why was it not that bad? To the truly brave, any kind of slavery, no matter how soft seeming, should be as the most horrid torture. An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded.
Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none," he finishes as though that explains everything.
"We should be on our way. No telling what evil is still stalking this place," he says, his steps turning to the beech.
Ibrox will call out to the seagulls and ask them what the saw around the town, since the big light that the dragon described.
"Examine your thoughts," he intones as though the title of a cook's chapter. "Why was it not that bad? To the truly brave, any kind of slavery, no matter how soft seeming, should be as the most horrid torture. An open mind is like a fortress with its gates unbarred and unguarded.
Victory needs no explanation, defeat allows none," he finishes as though that explains everything.
"We should be on our way. No telling what evil is still stalking this place," he says, his steps turning to the beech.
"No, exactly, that's what I'm saying, it was torture. Horrid torture. But it wasn't so bad because I've been through worse. I've been through a lot of horrid torture before, it doesn't even phase me, That's what I was saying." Finnigan takes some quick steps to catch up with Aterro heading toward the beach. "Guys, the side building is empty! How about the shack?"
Trevor stirs from his stupor and says: "Yes! Next place! Yes!" He clearly looks like a man who wants to do something about it, but has nothing to do about it, so he might as well try to find it!
"Awk! No..no...no! It was the cursed one near the shack." The other replies and they both hop carefully a few bounces closer, heads tilted to the side.
"You bring fish? Awk!" Says the first. "Days and days and days and no good fish." It says watching you carefully.
"No...no...no!" Says the second again. "He does not have fish. Short devil-indebted one wants to know where men with fish went."
"Oh..oh." The first squawks. "I liked the men with fish. Always had nice fish guts and juicy fish bits to share. It adds sadly. "Don't like the men now. Smell bad, old and always try to smash my wings. Most of all they don't give any fish."
The second pokes the other in its side with his beak. "Stop thinking about fish! Awk...awk!"
"Alright...alright, but I can't help it if I'm hungry. " It says before turning to back to you. "Good men gone. Either dead or left after other bad, bad, bad man came." Another wing flutter as it settles on the rock. "Bad man was part dead, not right...not right at all. Hurt others. Tear apart man-nests and shouts. Searching for something, but not good fish, something else. Fights with bird-friend up stream, then leaves and soon all good men gone or turned into bad men."
"You sure he doesn't have any fish?" It says. "Could be under funny looking hat. Seems like a nice place to keep fish." It adds eyes peering curiously at your redcap.
"No...no...no...Awk! Says the other. "Hat is for devil-magic, not fish. Let's go, I saw crabs washing on shore near the broken tree. Squawk!"
"Oooo! I like crab. Not as much as fish, but I am hungry." The two birds then take off flying south along the rocky shore.
While Vrindel tries following the trail along the sandy shore, Aterro, Finnigan and Trevor look over the shack, and Zove ponders the situation in a shaded spot; Ibrox stands outside making a variety of clicks, squawks, screeches and other various noises. All seemingly focused on the two seagulls who make similar noises back as they hop closer to the gnome. One seems especially interested in his rep cap, but then after a few minutes of this back and forth, the two birds take to the air and disappear along the shoreline to the south.
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"We've lost Ibrox. This... This is just too much. We'll all crack one by one. We have to stick together, unless we end up like that." Trevor comments, crestfallen.
Finnigan tries to console Trevor, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Very sad but it was only a matter of time! The same wont happen to us I am sure. He was already at least half mad to begin with!"
"We are! We are! Aterro, we are, all right!" replies Trevor, wondering why Aterro is complaining.
The smiling gnome returns to his traveling companions. "The locals said that a bad man came to town who was partially dead. He probably brought the magic chest containing the necrotic ticks and was looking for something hidden in the town. It doesn't sound like he found what he was looking for. So, maybe we could find it. Must be something important."
"Arent we all? Partially dead I mean?" Finnigan looks at the gnome still concerned for his mental health, but suddenly realizes he sounds crazy himself.
Finnigan doesnt bother attempting subtlety in the approach to the next building. He positions himself to provide covering fire for Aterro and waits for the armored hulk to barge through the door.
Ibrox looks around at his traveling companions wondering why they look at him strangely. "What?"
Ibrox agrees to follow the path.
"After we check out where this path goes, let's search the town again before Bentknee arrives. Maybe we can find what the bad man was looking for." The cheery gnomes provides the third vote for now and the first vote for later.
The party follows the rough trail along the rocky shore. After about a quarter hour the path disappears into a small cave set well enough back from the sea to avoid being submerged in the tides...most of the time. The entrance smells of the sea, rotted plants, and something just a bit musky. The small bones of fish and other broken shells are scattered about near the entrance. The footprints similar to those Vrindel found earlier appear to go in and out of the cave with another very rough trail that runs along a narrow ledge up the cliffs and back onto the bluffs to the north.
"Yeah I'll probably head in there myself, unless the God of Thunder favors someone else to receive the blessing of glorious battle first...."
Finnigan muses as he approaches the snacks
In reality he keeps his crossbow cocked ready to lend covering fire.
Trevor shrugs and steps forward, moving in, wondering if Aterro will step in front of him or not. the thought makes him smile: "Ok, remember, whenever we can, we try to keep them coming one at a time so that we can have the numbers on them. Makes sense?" he only looks at Aterro as he asks the question.
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Aterro chuckles deeply, the rumble sounding more like a battle-drum calling the ranks. "Gratitude. I am humbled by the honor you do me, recognizing my efforts playing the vanguard. There is no position with more distinction. I can only hope to bring more glory to Lord Thor with more of the same."
Aterro allows Trevor to move in before him. "Ah. I see there is more than one here that would seek glory in battle. Honor to you, paladin. You may bring glory for thy lord yet." Aterro follows Trevor's lead, but will brook no delay, eagerly entering the gloom.
"Still, I doubt there will be aught of glory to find here. The tracks also lead out. Mayhap whatever troglodyte that called this home has already left."
Survival
” hold up just a second. Let me walk up the trail a bit to see if the tracks return or keep going”.
Vrindel takes several minutes trying to decipher the tracks, but the combination of the elements, drifting sand and numerous tracks leave him unable to determine anything of use or consequence.
"I wish it were true... Right. So let's find out if someone is still here. Living... Wait. It's pretty dark here. Let me light a torch, but I'd prefer someone else carry it. I can't fight with one in hand, I'd just burn myself..."
"I need both hands too Trevor." He holds up his crossbow and dagger as if to demonstrate.
Turning his attention to Vrindel he notices that the druid's body language appears slightly bewildered. He follows him along the trail. Maybe he missed something...
Trevor lights his torch and hands it off to....somebody. Then steps through with Aterro into the dank confines of the cavern. The damp fish and rotting vegetation smell is much stronger, likely caused by the large clumps of kelp that lie tangled and clumped throughout the cave. The opening is wide enough for two or three people to stand side-by-side goes back about ten feet before opening into a wider chamber about 30 feet in diameter. There are three separate tunnels branching from the central chamber, a small, narrow opening to the north, a large opening to the northeast, and another more narrow opening to the east.
Ibrox follows the tall ones into the cavern looking for any clues or animal witnesses. His last conversation with the birds was helpful.
"Heads up guys. The humanoid we were tracking is not the only being coming in and out the cave. There's some kind of giant crustacean coming and going also. Maybe more than one. I can't tell for sure from the tracks..."
But perhaps more interesting is the bit of metal reflecting from Trevor's torchlight from a dark, sandy corner of the cave. As you inspect it a bit more, brushing the sand away with your hand only to discover the metal is the corner tip of a small chest buried in the sand. It is worn and weathered and obviously been buried for quite some time, but it does still appear to be intact.
Ibrox continues to push away from the chest and dig. ”Hey, I found a buried chest here. Maybe it’s what the bad man was looking for. Help me dig it out. “
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"Eh? What's that you say?" Aterro announces as he goes over to see what the gnome is on about. "Hmmmm. So you have, so you have. The rest of you keep watch. IF Finnigan is right, and there is some monster about, you never now when it will pop up. I will attend to this slight mystery."
The WarCleric puts down his maul and digs into his pack. In time he comes out with the metal plate from his messkit. Holding it in both steel gauntlets, he uses it as a make-shift shovel. Putting his heavily-muscles back in to it, he scoops away copious amounts of sand.
It doesn't take Aterro and Ibrox very long to dig out the small chest of simple design, but sturdy make. The box itself is about one foot, by two feet, by one foot and crafted of oak or some other hardwood banded with two straps of iron and a heavy lock. It is heavy but could be carried at least for short distances by someone of Aterro's or Trevor's stature. When shaken, there is the definite rattle of coins and possibly other metal from inside.
Trevor keeps an eye out for trouble, though he manages to comment: "I don't like having potential predators nearby. Why don't we lug that thing back to the light so we can open it safely?"
However, talking and paying attention are two things, and Trevor is quite overwhelmed in such situations.
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As Zove sees to the chest, Aterro stands, stretches, works some kinks out of his muscles, and replaces the relatively-clean mess kit.
Resuming his hammer, he takes up the watch. Answering Trevor as, "It's just as like to attack when two of us are busy lugging that, as it is when almost all of us are on watch. Let it come.
Besides, gaining reward without struggle makes me itch. There is already coin marked for the town and the children, but what else we find methinks we have earned a share of."
He watches the darkness. He notices that his hammer as some sand on it. He brushes it off.
There is already coin marked for the town and the children, but what else we find methinks we have earned a share of."[/b]
Finnigan perks up at this remark. "What's that you say? Some coin is marked? Is this the communal funds we've heard tell of? I remember some talk of folk in these parts pooling their coin for the purpose of buying supplies..."
Finnigan watches Zove's black candle casting long shadows on the cave walls. Her eerie dance makes his skin crawl.
"Well, there's a time for bravado but let's be sensible. The chest is light. We don't need to divide our attention while we're already at a disadvantage in this flickering light. I'm sure the cavelobster is quite accustomed to this ambience and won't mind at all making a snack of us. Come, listen to Trevor, drag the chest a short way into the open light! Ibrox and myself can make ready to fire on any crustaceans bursting from the three tunnels and Zove can do whatever creepy thing she is busy doing."
Finnigan trains his weapon on the Northeast tunnel but keeps an eye open to the central one as well.
Zove conducts her ritual while Trevor and Aterro attempt to watch for signs of the cavern's inhabitants. Unfortunately the two warriors are distracted by a variety of things during their watch. Fortunately, Finnigan is not so inattentive and is able to shout a warning as an extremely large crab emerges from the northeast tunnel. A huge shell covers the creature's back and brushes the top of the cavern as it brandishes two giant crabs claws while moving forward on four hairy, thick-skinned legs. Oddly, there is a large rusted knife and broken sword stuck in a couple of the crevices of the shell.
Ready and waiting for just such an possibility, Finnigan shoots a bolt into the creatures tough hide. It strikes but does little more than irritate the big crustacean.
Vrindel begins to shake off the effects of his brother of the forest's death, and wonders how he'll break the news to his companion, when his attention is drawn to the cave mouth, by first excited shouts, then shouts of startlement, then the twang of a crossbow bolt. He hurries into the cave to see what is going on.
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What was it the elders were saying about CoUS's? I don't think they exist,' Aterro thinks as suddenly a GIANT CRAB suddenly BURSTS in among them.
"Alright, same tactic. I'll hold him with my STEEL, and the rest are free to kill him from range.
Trevor, I may need a Brother of STEEL to stand with me on the battle-line," Aterro states as he blocks the massive clam-bake-to-be with his own bulk.
Finnigan readies himself to fire, provided that the crab doesn't fall asleep under Zove's spell... and he readies himself to slash with his dagger of the creature breaks the line and comes in range.
But first he watches to see how Zoves spell works.
"Does anyone see any rapiers sticking out of this thing? I need a rapier..."
Aterro, Trevor and Finnigan immediately step in to block the crabs attack. Aterro doing all he can to draw the beasts attention.
Ibrox points his finger and starts to say 'Ibrox', but instead sneezes and it comes out something closer to "Hollymox!" The smell of sulphur fills the room and Ibrox is suddenly illuminated and surrounded by the flickering flames of the deep hells. While the the flames don't seem to cause the gnome any real damage they do make him an easy target should the giant crab make it past Aterro and the others.
Zove weave her fey magic and fills the crab with the deep need to slumber, yet, the big beast's need for a next meal seems to be too much for her magic and the creature shrugs off the fey spell to continue its attack.
Seeing Zove's magic fail, Finnigan shots another crossbow bolt into creatures hard shell causing another small crack where the hard steel tip hit. He then steps in and drives his dagger into the crabs joint making it flinch back half a step. But much to the ranger's surprise, when he tries to pull the dagger back for another attack, the weapon is caught on the sticky, wet surface of the crab's shell.
Channeling the adrenaline pumping through his body as the crab lumbers into view, Trevor steps up and drives his axe into the giant crustacean's midsection. The crab lets out a piercing squeal as a big crack appears in the shell and several small chunks fly away. A yellow sticky ooze runs freely from the wound as the creature staggers back from the mighty blow.
Rattled by Trevor's blow, the crab sends one of its big claws scathing toward the knight only to have the young knight duck out of the way at the last second. It attempts a similar maneuver against Aterro, but the big claw merely glances off of the war cleric's armor as he also manages to avoid the blow.
"Shiite! It's a gluecrab! I lost my dagger! Ohhhh that's why there's an armory stuck on this things back.... "
"I think when it bleeds the glue comes out! I haven't let go of my dagger yet. "
Finnigan gives one more pull and the dagger dislodges from the seeping adhesive fluid.
Is there a nice rapier somewhere in that mess?
The ranger tries to weave around Aterro and Trevor, hoping if he stabs the creature directly in the eye he won't run a risk of losing his weapon to the glue.