"Look," Aishe sighs, his new found freedom already shattered by this woman's claims, if indeed she is telling the truth. "How do we know you're not one of them still f@@&ing with us? How do we know you're sincere?"
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The Knights of Ozem‽"
"For now," the woman says. "Once the knights have rallied, we can determine our next best course of action."
"Who and what is this Gildais?'
"Gildais is a winterwight," the woman says, "an undead horror born from the coldest depths of the Negative Energy Plane. He was an Ustalavic count long ago before Tar-Baphon transformed him into his simpering seneschal. I believe he is currently in Vigil, or has recently left it. I know he is important to the Whispering Tyrant's plans, but not how."
"Hey...what day and month is it? And the year? Is Aroden...uh...is Aroden still...you know? Dead?"
"It is around 30 Pharast if I recall." You notice her become silent and give a small twitch at this as her shoulders sag. "Aroden is still dead." Her voice says sadly.
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After recovering from the stun, Vinas speaks plainly, but without malice, "You are overwhelmingly evil and the very antithesis of all I hold dear. You must know that I know this. For now, and only for now, the enemy of my enemy is..." he can't quite bring himself to finish the aphorism.
"These are strange times. I am in dire need of better equipment if I'm to fight anything. I could also use a proper rest. Let us set upon this course, strange as it may be."
Know (religion/planes) -winterwight
You notice her become silent and give a small twitch at this as her shoulders sag. "Aroden is still dead." Her voice says sadly.
Vanyan, strangely, has few questions more at this time.
"You say you have supplies? Any beer or ale? I don't drink much...but I would have some now. And fresh food? Do you have that? Seems like I've been eating ashes for weeks. We can pay," Vanyan wonders what might be in wagon.
Atium breathes in the scent that surrounds the woman. He recognizes it. A lot more dialogue goes on. until finally it clicks.
Sorry, I'm late. are the words he mumbles. Not confident in them.
Yes. You are the 'Sorry I'm Late' woman that I knocked down before dying and becoming a meatbag. If you tell me what you were late for.... and I believe you... I will grant you the truce you have asked for.
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"While I do not like the idea of making a deal with someone who will not show their face, I will say that going to Vigil to report what has happened here doe seem to be a logical course of action. The notes we recovered mentioned a boss named "G," which could well likely be the same person. Valthazar believed what happened here was caused by the cult. So even though she seems to be evil, what she says makes sense. Perhaps it is best if we were to travel to Vigil. It is not like we have anything here anymore... He trails off sadly.
Aishe is unconvinced until Tessenarin speaks. He stops short. He hadn’t really thought about what comes next. Flee to Oppara I suppose. …is his first thought. But he looks around at his new companions. No. No, I can’t do that.” he shakes his head and lowers his crossbow.
”I’m with them.” he says simply, summing it all up.
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Vanyan knows a small bit on winterwights. Human-sized and of a deathly blue color, this long-taloned skeletal creature is partially encased in jagged sheets of ice. They are vulnerable to fire.
Though it resembles an ordinary skeleton from a distance, the winterwight’s frame is much sturdier than the average humanoid’s, its frozen armor intertwining with its bone structure to form an incredibly hardy chassis. Sometimes called hatewraiths because of their insatiable lust for suffering, these frozen horrors are often found in areas that suffer from magical cold or frozen climates.
Winterwights are 7 feet tall and weigh 250 pounds.
She does not hold out her arm in faith and instead uncovers the wagon for you. "I will not be going to Vigil. I will be checking in with you in good time to assess what you discover there." She seems to offer that as a small bit of reassurance to your apprehensiveness. Seeing Aishe sorting through equipment ready to trade. "There is no bargain necessary. The wagon and its contents are yours to use as you see fit." the woman says.
The wagon contains:
Vinas's eyes go wide at the options available. He immediately eyes the Defending longsword, the broad quillion, the shield shape of the pommel...
The gift giver makes him anxious though. He scans the contents for evil before committing.
Vanyan is taken aback as the woman so quickly vanishes. ”But...but...I had more questions...” he cries into the void her space, weirdly disheartened after someone who had just received a wagon full of free gifts.
He stares at the place she was for several moments, then some spark of his brain reminds him that he saw something pretty powerful.
Spellcraft - teleport?
He will then move over to the wagon to hunt through its contents, identifying magic items and drinking ale. He’ll enjoy the ale.
”Ale! ALE! I haven’t had ale in forever. It washes the dusty death taste from my lips!” Vanyan passes around the ale skin.
Aishe wonders also at the woman's quick absence. It does not endear him further to her, but then he's not working for her, whatever the bribe (and what a bribe!). He's here for the group.
He pours over the wagon and selects a few things for himself if no one objects. Aishe takes the handy haversack and the bolts, though he too shares Vanyan's skin. "Thanks." he says as he takes a deep drink.
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"She must be a powerful spell caster I assume, if she is able to do such things. Perhaps this plays to the old adage about horses and mouths. Let us see what is here. I could use this potion...."
Atium also takes a slug of the aleskin.
He coughs a bit as he totally forgot the potency of ale.
Vanyan is ready to go to Vigil, packing his old armor on the wagon. He’ll offer to sit in the wagon and take turns walking.
"Has anyone been to Vigil before? I have not. I am not sure who we will contact, but I suppose we can always ask once we arrive."
Tess pulls out his goblin fire drum, and begins to play a song you've not heard before (especially since he rarely plays the drums) But it's a lively song that sounds very military. It seems to make you want to move your feet.
Atium speaks up. I have for a brief time. I used to work on the famous Dotort Ranch. They help supply the Dotort Chargers for the Cavalry in Vigil and the surrounding lands. in fact, I was delivering two such amazing beasts to Rossler's Coffer when the town was doomsday'd. Anyone else know anyone actually IN Vigil? I never was put in a position to talk with people. I handled the horses.
With Tess's drum march. Atium loves the beat and begins moving. A level of happiness and contentment not usually found in the raging beastman.
I am glad all this happened with you as companions. Each of you bring a lot to the table.
"Has anyone been to Vigil before?"
”Nor have I,” Vanyan says, watching Tess pull out a drum. He had completely forgot the man had a drum, much less could play. He does enjoy the beat and happily keeps his feet moving to the march.
”Dotard Ranch? I can’t say I have heard of that, Wank,” Vanyan the marching aleskin to Atium. He’s also glad for his companions because he’d be dead if he was alone...or if he was with Pathfinders.
Yeah, I bring the ale to the table.
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"I've done a drive to Vigil before, but it's been some time. Don't know anyone there though." Aishe walks up and introduces himself to the donkeys, offering them whatever vegetable/fruit he may have on hand. He pets each of them as he checks the traces and harnessing.
Once satisfied all is in order, he climbs into he drivers seat, a comfortable place for him to sit and a place he's been in before. He rests his crossbow at his side, and turns the wagon northward - driving forward at a pleasant though not too fast a pace. About a mile or so on, he mumbles, "Better kit here than what I'm used to. Smoother ride."
He does his best to trade with the others on the road. He knows the drill, he's done it a hundred times in an earlier life it seems. And he figures it's better to deal with the haulers than the shopkeepers. Shopkeepers are more aggressive, and less pleasant as a whole. Haulers and drivers are glad for less to unload at journey's end and so appreciate the sale even more.
There will, of course, be a few things that must wait for town. Ensorcelling his crossbow for one. That'll take a day, at least, and he doesn't want to stop on the road that long holding everyone else up. But he buys what he can on the road, and does his best to sell it all so they can all ride into town on the wagon.
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An unknown cataclysm thrusts you into the Boneyard, where souls are judged after death... but you aren't dead! Trapped in a tomb that isn't your own, you used your wits to escape the boneyard. The grim and otherworldly psychopomps who serve as the shepherds of souls were divided on what to do with these unexplained arrivals. You negotiated treacherous psychopomp politics and a journey through a landscape of gloom and nightmare before walking the Dead Roads that led you home!
Returning to the land of the living, you explored the ruins of the town of Roslar's Coffer, the center of the devastating blast that hurled you to the afterlife. Populated with newly risen undead, twisted creatures, and wicked cultists of the Whispering Way, Roslar's Coffer offered danger around every corner. Escaping underneath the town you found a way into the Bastion of Light where you defeated this cell of the Whispering Way as well as coming across your own deceased bodies. Disabling the poisonous fog shroud you are met at the edges of town by a mysterious benefactor who wants you to warn Vigil before they share a similar fate.
*************************************************************************** *
You travel in the wagon down the long, winding road, skirting the edge of the Northern Fangwood. You meet up with a few passing caravans, with which you are able to trade for new equipment. The travelers have heard vague rumors about some sort of plague or disaster in Roslar's Coffer, but the village was so small and remote that you are likely the only ones who know the truth of the catastrophe there. You pass Castle Everstand and follow the Kestrel River north to where it meets the Path River, then head east for another day or two before finally reaching the capital of Lastwall--the city of Vigil.
Two concentric walls circle Vigil, with the exception of the opening of its small harbor on the Path River. The thick outer wall and towers are made of granite and surrounded by a wide moat filled with water from the river. The southeast and northwest gatehouses and the six towers of the outer wall are always bathed in magically created light. The inner wall rises higher than the outer wall, and it is whitewashed, as is all of the city and Castle Overwatch within.
The city of Vigil is in the grip of a festive celebration. Colored streamers adorn freshly painted buildings, blooming flowers line the streets, and residents are dressed in colorful clothing. Even the grim ballista towers along the city’s thick defensive wall bear large banners showing a white sword.
This is the start of the 3-day Whiteblade Festival. The celebration is a remembrance of one of the city’s bloodiest periods of civil unrest. In 4619 AR, a revolutionary Iomedaean priest named Jesca Malvaney attempted a coup, leading to armed conflict among the church’s faithful and devastating fires that ravaged the city. Called the Whiteblade War, this event is commemorated every 10 years as a time to renew bonds, remember fallen friends, and vow to keep grudges from exploding into conflict. Over the years, the Whiteblade Festival has become more of a celebration than a grim remembrance, and much of the city turns out to hear speeches and honor veterans over the 3 days. This is also a time when the city’s leaders and aristocrats, including the Knights of Ozem, set aside their normal duties to hear grievances from the common people. However, some disaffected citizens idolize Jesca’s zeal and see the Whiteblade Festival as an opportunity to replicate the bloodshed of the Whiteblade War.
The city's guards--the Watchknights--seem on edge and worried as you approach. Normally, only those bearing a shield-shaped mark of justice on the right palm are permitted to carry weapons openly in Vigil; all other weapons are confiscated by the Watchknights. However, the guards at the gate simply issue warnings for you to keep an eye out for troublemakers, and they allow you to keep your weapons should the need arise to defend yourselves.
vs DC 15
"'ts the Whiteblade Festival. Three day party. Watch out though, some folks take it a bit too serious so keep your wits about you."
Aishe's taciturn ways reveal nothing more unless questioned as he guides the wagon into the town. He looks for the nearest waif with nothing to do and calls out to him. He flips him a gold piece and says, "Whereabouts for an inn with a stable for this lot? Another gold if you'll lead us there."
Vanyan does enjoy the road, at least he enjoys it much more than dealing with teeth stealing faeries or being stuck in a poison cloud with the undead. And he's traveled plenty while with the Pathfinders, often quite quickly it seemed. He felt as if the might be in some ape-infested museum in Absalom one week, then meeting strangers in Kaer Maga the next. It was a strange time where travel and time seemed to have no meaning.
But this travel was different. It was the plod of Aishe's asses to the beat of Tess's drum. He takes the time to fully charge the Staff of Courage, and read and review any books or notes he borrowed from the library.
He recalls that he's barely had time to mourn the loss of Roslar's Coffer from a place of safety, and does that on the road.
"One last drink to Roslar's Coffer. I don't know all what happened here, but I know this place was my home. Now, I have no home. No family. Except all of you. To the road and our travels," Vanyan hits the aleskin and passes it along.
* * *
"A festival you say? That should be fun. We can relax and forget about all our troubles for a bit. Hit the markets and enjoy our second lives, eh?" He waits to hear if Aishe can find a suitable inn.
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A frail looking, dirty boy smiles a gap-filled grin as Aishe tosses him the coin. "Sho'thing mister. The Lady's Shield Hand is nea Southgate. I'll sho you the way."
The boy leads you to a popular tavern in Vigil located close to the Southgate of the city. From what you hear the tavern is known for its dark stout and bitter ale.
Having sold most of their goods on the road, the money is pooled, and disbursed. Aishe, rather late in the conversation really, suggests they buy a couple wands of Cure Light Wounds when they hit town - as group purchases - for their likely future injuries…
With that in mind, the monies that flow to each individual are still vast.
Aishe thanks the boy, and hands him another coin. "Thanks son. Now stay out of trouble." He resists the urge to tussle the youths hair remembering what it was like when he was younger and adults talked down to him.
He turns to the others, "I'll see to the donkeys and wagon. Do we want to keep 'em? Might be I can find a decent buyer for them here. Don't see as we'll need a wagon and a pair of donkeys, but who knows."
Either way, he sees to the beasts comfort in the stables and nestles the wagon wherever he's told to park it before rejoining the others inside to arrange for rooms - and a proper meal. He very nearly drools with the thought of a hot cooked meal not made up of goodberries or smoked meat.
"I cannot see needing them again, but nothing has gone as expected to us since..... well... Anyway, with some coin, I look to make some purchases. I would also, I admit, enjoy a bath for once. Should we arrange to meet back here later?"
After going down the long, winding road, Vinas's spirits elevate with the travels. Upon arriving in Vigil, he dips down a bit. "My parents died here... in the siege."
He returns to the better humour, "Though it feels good to see laughter and celebration, even if brief. Plus... people!"
Atium likes this feeling. The feeling of returning to "real" people. Returning to a sense of .....no, not a sense of.... more of the feeling that a deadly combat is NOT around the corner.
This city is going to be special. Very special. Look at the walls and the protections and the people. Lots of people.
He turns to Aishe.
Can you get your skinny friend to tell you where an Ulfen bar is?
He was much younger when he left his village. He's actually still fairly young - only being 16.
but give a little thanks to that door trap that aged him 3 years.
Give a begrudging bit o' thanks to that tooth fairy that took out one of his front teeth.
He'll be damned, but he looks like an "in his prime " Ulfen 19 year old and beat to shit in a lot of combat's Ulfen marauder. Not some 14 year old that chokes on the spirits when he takes a slug of 'shine that was in his dad's drinking flask.
He then looks over at his friends. He sees the always angry Tessenarin. A man who rarely smiles and plays angry music that puts on the edge men into a frenzy...
Tessenarin... you want to join me as we go check out a good ole' Ulfen bar in this city? I will bet 100 gold that it'll fit you like a glove. Anyone else want to go there with us? Vinas, you won't fit in, but we can have a couple drinks and give moments of honor to your parents. We of the NORTH sing good songs when honoring parents.
As he/we/they walk to the place that's supposed to be a popular Viking style hangout, he passes a shop with a particularly ugly looking helm in the window. it reminds him of the Drake totem he crafted with the help of Vanyan. The face of that totem was always rough, but *THIS* helm is what he always envisioned.
Oh, I found something to spend my gold on. Give me a second guys. Before we drink tonight, I have to see if I can keep the proprietor from swindling me out of a lot of gold.
"I'll not drink enough to dull my edge, but I do believe a pint is in order."
Tessenarin looks at Atium slightly confused.
"Well, yes, once I'm done with my purchases, I can join you. I am not, however, one to drink to excess. But I would gladly have a few rounds with you, if you find a place to your liking."
Vanyan follows along, not rushing to make many purchases, but just one important one. ”A pint or two of fresh stuff might be nice,” he agrees, liking a return to a city that hasn’t been blown up and isn’t full of undead.
Vanyan wonders about Ulfen ale, and wonders if they can even find it. And then, if they even find it, he wonders if it will be true Ulfen ale or just some swill with more ice in it or whatever.
Vanyan will drink and look around after his one shopping trip. He is happy to rest for the night, then begin the serious work in the morning.
"Yeah, sure, I'll have a drink with you. I'm not much of a drinker..." he trails off trying to remember his last drink. It was some time ago now.
Once the animals are settled and the wagon stowed, he'll join the others looking for an Ulfen bar.
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Leaving your cart and most of your gear back at the Lady's Shield Hand Atium talks you into joining him out for a moment of shopping and a round of drinks at an Ulfen ran Inn well on the other side of town. It takes several hours for Aishe to ask around and find something remotely close.
On the way to the Inn you pass quite the celebration and festivities. Several crowds are forming around dignitaries and officials of the city to hear speeches and honor veterans over the next three days.
Inside is a rough looking bunch with an older female wiping down the bar with a deeply stained rag. If twisted the rag looks as if it could fill a glass with mead all on its own. Sitting down you are able to get a full round of mead as only a small handful remain in the bar. The rest likely at the local festivities. The thoughts of your promise to warn Vigil of the possible same fate as Roslar's Coffer and the search for Gildais well in the back of your minds.
"Okay, we should rest, clean ourselves up, and try to gain audience with the Knights. Maybe we grab lodging and inquire for who to speak with. No time like the present either. "
Vinas will take his round and carouse, listening and poking in when appropriate. He'll also look to speak with anyone who is dressed like they could point us in the right direction to make contact with the Knights of Ozem or some other governmental position.
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Vinas takes his drink and leaves Atium to his festivities as he begins making new friends with the bartender.
Outside Vinas finds a nearby Watchknight on guard keeping the peace.
The Watchknight seems a bit caught off guard with his question and points to the big castle on the hill at the center of town. "Castle Overwatch, atop Watcher's Tor. You can't miss it. But all the knights are probably going to be attending the festivities for the Whiteblade Festival."
The guard fills you in on the goings-on. This is the start of the 3-day Whiteblade Festival. The celebration is a remembrance of one of the city’s bloodiest periods of civil unrest. In 4619 AR, a revolutionary Iomedaean priest named Jesca Malvaney attempted a coup, leading to armed conflict among the church’s faithful and devastating fires that ravaged the city. Called the Whiteblade War, this event is commemorated every 10 years as a time to renew bonds, remember fallen friends, and vow to keep grudges from exploding into conflict. Over the years, the Whiteblade Festival has become more of a celebration than a grim remembrance, and much of the city turns out to hear speeches and honor veterans over the 3 days. This is also a time when the city’s leaders and aristocrats, including the Knights of Ozem, set aside their normal duties to hear grievances from the common people. However, some disaffected citizens idolize Jesca’s zeal and see the Whiteblade Festival as an opportunity to replicate the bloodshed of the Whiteblade War, so the Watchknights are on guard for troublemakers, especially since this marks the centennial of the Whiteblade War.
"The main gatherings and speeches will take place at the base of Watcher's Tor, beneath the towers of Castle Overwatch and the Crusader War College. Several stages surround the main festival area, and pavilion tents are set aside for audiences with city officials, celebrities, and members of the Knights of Ozem. Unfortunately, Watcher-Lord Ulthun II is away on business. But there five particularly influential people you might want to chat with. There's Second Sword Knight Aylunna Varvatos, the highest-ranking priest of Iomedae in Viigl. Ceto Malderra, Hero of the Belkzen Front and Marshal of the Flood Road, the highest-ranking Knight of Ozem here. Venture-Captain Evni Zognoss of the Pathfinder Society. Retired Reliquary Guard Ranton Gandry, retired with honors from a long career at the Belkzen front and, after a war injury, served for several years as a reliquary guard in the Crusader War College. And of course, Precentor Martial of Magic Veena Heliu, leader of the Battlemage Academy at the Crusader War College."
"Thank you friend. I appreciate your time as well as your vigilance. May your blade and vision stay sharp."
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Looks like we've got a few leads. I'll not lie, I'm seriously thinking a lot about the Knights of Ozem... Given the crucible we've been through, I'm wondering if that's the life for me..."
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’Wow, yeah. Nice work, Vinas,” Vanyan compliments the man. ”I haven’t seen such diplomatic competence in a while. Not since long ago when I worked with a Pathfinder named Darlinger. Could talk sleep out of a cat, he could. But I think he’s dead now. Eaten by a troll...but not for the reason you think. Darlinger thought he could sleep with the troll’s wife. Well, that’s the story I heard in the lodge anyway.”
”This is good because I can help but feel like the same thing that happened at the Coffer might happen here. And that would not be a good thing...and not sure we’d survive it again.”
Vanyan makes some mental notes about what Vinas has learnt:
- Second Sword Knight Aylunna Varvatos, the highest-ranking priest of Iomedae in Vigil.
- Ceto Malderra, Hero of the Belkzen Front and Marshal of the Flood Road, the highest-ranking Knight of Ozem.
- Venture-Captain Evni Zognoss of the Pathfinder Society.
- Retired Reliquary Guard Ranton Gandry, retired, reliquary guard in the Crusader War College.
- Precentor Martial of Magic Veena Heliu, leader of the Battlemage Academy at the Crusader War College.
Vanyan claps Vinas on the shoulder, walking with him as they pass through Vigil.
”Vanyan and Vinas in Vigil. That’s it. That’s what we’re going to know this as. And we’ll know what it means,” Vanyan says, thinking in historical metaphors to be. ”Where do you guys want to start? Might be that I can use my old Pathfinder status to get us a leg up with the ol’ Venture Captain. Might not too.”
Vanyan rubs his chin.
”Them Venture Captains are usually quite the a%$*%~&#s, you know? So full of themselves,” Vanyan looks at Tess while he says this. ”Most of the time they will yell at you. And give you impartial information. Or just plain riddles when giving you an assignment. Sometimes it’s tea at midnight. You never know. But we can start there if we want.”
Aishe joins the others for a drink, not something he's been asked to do before as a rule. He's largely led a lonely existence, and it never bothered him, until now. Looking at his friends over the rim of his ale, he's astonished at how nice it feels to be here. To belong.
When Vinas leaves to go research, he wonders if he should go with him. Might be we shouldn't be alone. he wonders. But he resists, after all, how bad could it be here, in this vibrant city? He mulls it over until Vinas has gone, realizing his opportunity has passed to follow. He could track him of course - tough to do in a city, but not impossible. He smiles to himself as he thinks of the challenge.
He's just about to get up and do just that when Vinas returns. "You gonna be a knight? That seems like a lot of someone telling you what to do to me." he wonders aloud.
"So you got some leads? I figure it'll be hard to get in to see the folks who can make decisions. They've probably never heard of Roslar’s Coffer."
--- Ninja ---
"Yeah, sure Vanyan, we can start with your Pathfinders. You think your membership will help?"
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Tess has a drink with Atium, but once the others start to leave, he joins them. He seems a bit lost in the city, as he tries to hide his expression of seeing a place as large as Vigil. He's obviously a bit self conscious about this, not wanting to gawk as he goes around.
"I think this Venture Captain seems like a good person to meet, but I think we will need to meet all of the individuals Vinas learned about. But we certainly have to start somewhere."
Tessenarin either ignores or seems oblivious to Vanyan's comments.
"I am also happy to talk to people with Vinas." He touches a new shining circlet on his head. "I am quite charming you know. Even more so now."
"Vanyan and Vinas in Vigil? If you say so. Regardless, sure, let's start with the Pathfinder."
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Atium sits and stays a majority of the time with his comrades. He has his head on a swivel the whole night, and only drinks two or maybe three hefty sized beverages. Oddly recoiling and telling others at the table how the first drink tasted awful. The second one worse, and the last one -finally decent.
He does get up and chat with the older woman with the deeply stained rag.
you overhear things like, I know it's impossible to believe, but *I* was actually dead. Yes. I see the look in your unbelieving eyes. I took a long walk in The Boneyard and an even longer walk along the road of the dead to get out!
and
See this! This missing tooth is where the backstabbing and lying through their collected teeth, Toothfairies used their grubby pliers and yangs it out to complete a bogus deal.
When Atium gets back to the table, he overhears Vinas and the people they need to see tomorrow.
To all of you.
I don't think I'm gonna be much help in finding out allies to hunt for this Gildais guy, but if we split up a bit, I'll make certain to protect the backs of those that I go with.
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While the bartender begins to scoot the drinks out of Atium's reach as he is obviously tanked she smiles and tries to sober him up, not wanting any trouble or any more broken furniture for that matter. She knows his kind, quick to anger and even quicker to end the brawl with whatever is within reach. She flicks the rag at him. "Those are some stories you have? tell me what does the Lady of the Graves look like?" She winks with a smile.
As the afternoon wears on, you track down the Venture-Captain of the Pathfinder Society's lodge in Vigil. Evni Zongnoss is a motherly gnome woman who looks like a fortune-teller. She wears an elaborate turban that matches her oversized robe, and both are decorated with crescent moons and butterflies. She speaks about acknowledging and learning from mistakes of the past, timely topics for the Whiteblade Festival.
When you approach after her speech, she smiles warmly. "May Desna smile upon you, friends. How can I help you?"
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"May Desna smile upon you, friends. How can I help you?"
Vanyan smiles and approaches, making sure his broken Pathfinder lightbox is showing.
"Greetings, Venture-Captain. I'm Vanyan, you may remember me from the time I helped stop the undead horde from attacking Absalom? Then there was that Hydra's Fang thing? I was there for that too. Sure, you might not have heard of it. But maybe you've heard of the time that I helped Skelg the Ripper?" Vanyan knows that this happened a long time ago, but they were pretty big deals at the time. Of course, he didn't really 'help' all that much, but was bleeding a lot during most of the events.
"Heck, I was even there when the Consortium attacked the lodge," he continues on. "Now, I'm not on official Pathfinder business right now, but boy do I have story to tell you. Do you have time to chat? You're gunna want to hear about this..."
If Evni is open, Vanyan will recount the story since he arrived back in Roslar's Coffer. He explains as much as he can, and puts most of it in Pathfinder speak, like the usual reporting that is done.
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Evni is initially skeptical of your report, but by the time Vanyan finishes, the gnome has a thoughtful look on her face. "You may be on to something here. Dire happenings in remote places sometimes herald future trouble."
Upon hearing Gildais's name, Evni's expession turns to a frown. "Gildais, as in Jomah Gildais? He was an Ustalavic count whom the Whispering Tyrant hurled into the Negative Energy Plane. Gildais eventually returned as some sort of powerful undead creature and served as Tar-Baphon’s seneschal. He was sealed in Gallowspire along with the Whispering Tyrant, but I, too, have heard rumors that he has recently escaped. He's likely an agent for the Tyrant and not someone to be trifled with; if he's active around Vigil, I would encourage you to proceed with caution."
She taps her chin. "Come to think of it, I once overheard Ranton Gandry saying the name 'Gildais' when talking about his mother. I suspect it's a coincidence, but you may want to check with him."
Aishe chuckles as Atium tells his stories, I wouldn't tell people those stories. No one's gonna believe it! In fact, he has a hard time believing it himself. And he was there.
When they meet Venture Captain Evni Zongnoss, he's surprised she's a gnome. He didn't think gnomes had that much interest in paperwork, and it seems the Pathfinder Society is full of it - from what he can see on the outside. Still, he's impressed when she doesn't just dismiss their story out of hand.
"Ranton Gandry." he says by way of remembering the name, "Thanks."
Hearing that they have a solid lead!
Good work Twink! You chatted that cute little woman up.
Are we going to talk with other leaders? The battle tested soldier guy seems like he'd have some stories that'd be great. He tells us, and we tell him. I told that barmaid part of our story last night and she loved it. She even asked me for a description of The Lady of Graves! I couldn't because we never actually met her.
***********************
If we are walking somewhere else, Atium opens up a bit to his friends.
Hey Aishe and Tessenarin. Going to that bar last night got me thinking. I need your opinion. Twinkletoes, you can listen in too. You always have opinions. Vinas should help out too, he thinks good.
He then looks very serious, and continues.
I wanted to say Thank You for joining me last night at the Ulfen hangout. I really expected that looking older would make me feel more relaxed and a part of the culture.
But I didn't.
In fact, the Ulfen at the bar were really crude. The long scraggly beards. The constant spilling of their beer. The echoing belches.
Now don't get me wrong, an amazing burp can deserve a round of applause, but once one Ulfen does it, every other Ulfen's got to one up the other.
He knows he's not making as much sense.
What I need your opinion on is, I think I'm growing soft like you southies. I've been in Last Wall for a bit over two years. I'm starting to like....you know...people like you. I didn't like most of the drinks. I didn't like most of the people there..... I preferred being with the four of you.
Doesn't that sound CRAZY?
Now his shoulder's sag
Here's why it's not crazy. I can't go back to the North. I'm a Varg. That means I'm supposed to be an armorer, a forge worker. I'm being someone I'm not supposed to be. I know deep inside that I'm a totem warrior. I like the battle. I like the animal instincts. But when I started talking with other Ulfen I found myself to be a fraud. Around you guys, I'm not a fake.
Tessenarin looks at Evni. "Ranton Gandry , you say? Who is this person and where would we find them? I think your suggestion is quite wise and worth our following up"
Later, he looks at Atium. "I am not sure I would call it going soft, Atium. Look at everything you have been through, and survived. You certainly are not soft. But it is just change. We all grow and change. I think that is all that it is."
Later, he looks at Atium. "I am not sure I would call it going soft, Atium. Look at everything you have been through, and survived. You certainly are not soft. But it is just change. We all grow and change. I think that is all that it is."
"Ayep, we all change." Aishe begins slowly, unsure why Atium is so worried. "Not a bad thing though, and I don't think you're, ah, diminished from having hung around us weak southerners all this time." he grins patting Atium on the back.