"Maybe we could ask Jhod to take a look at it?" Syretia offers. "He's no druid, but he's the closest we've got."
Brandt nods in agreement with the two, while letting Christian survey the tree, pointing out any details he may have missed.
It is a good idea to see if Jhod has any good ideas about tending the tree or trying to heal it some, well done Syretia. There is much wonder in this land we have found, it would sadden me to lose this marvelous specimen of growth... he says, patting the tree gently.
Christian and Brandt immediately notice fresh scat and tracks left by a number of animals around the great, old tree. Evidence of deer, raccoons, birds, and many squirrels indicate that the ecosystem around the tree has begun to revitalize in the absence of the mites.
I am seeing that animals are starting to return to the area. I can see traces of deer and a few others. I think it is safe to say that tree has turned a corner and is going to be just fine.
Christian looks to the north.
Let us check in on the gold mine then...Sound good?
Brandt nods, Sounds good Christian, the Sycamore definitely seems to be mending and wildlife has definitely returned. I'm interested to see how Oleg fares in the north as well. Hopefully we'll find him and Svetlana well in their outpost. he says leaning over in the saddle to look at something on the ground for a moment before continuing on.
Another set of tracks also accompany these footprints. They appear to be the paw prints of a large cat, like a cougar. They travel alongside the humanoid tracks, following the same course.
Christian points to the tracks and looks to Brand.
How old do you think those are?
Brandt looks down, and peers off to the west, Not too long, barefoot with a large cat.... Could be a devotee of the Green Path wandering our woods? Not too many folks walk barefoot these days; the weather isn't great for that.
"Over there, look!" Syretia calls out, pointing to a wagon barely visible off to the north. "Looks abandoned."
"If there was a draft animal on that wagon, it slipped the yoke..." he says looking at the same wagon.
Maybe that is what pulled the wagon or...had the draft animal for dinner.
Christian points to the large feline prints.
Only one way to find out. Let us investigate this to see what is going on.
You find a merchant's wagon left abandoned along a rough trail beaten by wheels running between Oleg's Trading Post and Charis. Drawing closer, however, you discover that the draft animal that once hauled the vehicle did not simply slip away. The ragged carcass of an oxen still lays at the foot of the wagon, having been savaged by a predator.
Looking in the bed of the wagon, you find that someone has haphazardly rummaged through its contents but left almost everything behind. The wagon is laden with rather sundry cargo, containing an assortment of pottery, woven cloth, glassware, and other goods that a frontier settlement might not be able to produce on its own yet.
A lockbox sits among the dirt beside the wagon, still sealed, apparently thrown down in frustration by whoever or whatever waylaid this merchant. The lid of the box is etched with an emblem that Bydar readily identifies as belonging to the Redshields.
Brandt looks around at the scene, hand straying toward his quiver, while Fenrir wanders around the area, looking for confirmation of the lead they have headed southwest.
Christian dismounts and looks at the scene a little better, his hand brings forth his weapon.
Where is the person that was with the wagon. They may still yet live.
Christian looks to the oxen for a moment.
Did the attack happen here or somewhere else?
He starts to investigate further. Looking at the scene with an intense look.
Returning these items to the Redspears will be proper.
"Brandt, could you or Fenrir find some trace of the crew?"
There are no human remains to be found, and no other trace of the wagon's crew can be spotted.
The ground around the front of the wagon, where the oxen lies dead, is stained with gore. The available evidence strongly supports that the attack on the wagon occurred here, but Christian finds it impossible to discern whether the blood is solely from the oxen or if it represents the fate of the merchant, too.
Christian does spot a nearby copse of trees that could have concealed the attackers, who likely lay in wait to ambush the approaching wagon. He also notes that the obvious trail left by the attackers would make it almost effortless for Fenrir and Brandt to follow them.
"Redshields" He says as he looks at the emblem on the box "THis is their symbol"
Brandt looks up from where the tracks are, Looks like they went this way. We should definitely keep the Redshield's box safe, but do we follow the attackers or the barefoot person to the south now?
I am thinking that both print are together. If this was Nore's doing...I must admit that I never saw this savagery coming from her.
Christian looks back to the wagon and then to the tracks.
Can we use spells to repair any damage to the wagon and summon a mount to pull it?
We should secure the wagon of valuables and see what details can be found out from those tracks. If they are near by, I want them found and if guilty of this barbarism...punished.
"I do have a weak repair spell ready, don't know if it would be enough. But I have nothing to replace that ox. Maybe some of our horses could be used, but then it would slow us down greatly to track down who did this."
Brandt eyes the wagon, and pats his mount gently. Well, why don’t we carry the chest on my spare horse while we hunt down whomever is responsible, then we can return and drag the wagon to Olegs
The wagon itself has sustained no damage. Other than the loss of its oxen, the only damage is the shredded yoke, which could easily be repaired with even weak magic.
Even though you never saw her, face to face, during the confrontation, the party's information characterizes her as an elven woman.
The depth and size of these bare footprints suggest they were made by a human male, albeit not a very heavy-set one.
"I think the wagon and its contents are an issue we can return to," Syretia says, gesturing to the attackers' trail, "once we have dealt with this one."
Brandt straightens from where he was inspecting the tracks, shaking his head in the negative, It wasn't Nore, she's an elf. This is a barefoot human male, though slight of build and probably unarmored. Whomever this is, they are obviously prone to violence and creating a big mess... he gestures at the blood stain where the oxen should be.
Syretia's right, we should follow them first, and come back for the things.. he says, drawing an arrow from his quiver and looking toward the southwest, as if willing their quarry to appear from the trees...
Let us get this person. We can not have this happen on our roads and we need to put an end to it right away.
Brandt and Fenrir lead you along the tracks for about three quarters of a mile, plumbing the rough hills of the Kamelands. Your progress is halted when you hear a faint voice call out from somewhere nearby.
"He's leading you into a trap," the weakened, female voice cautions.
His weapons comes forth just as the last word is spoken. The handsome man turns towards the direction of the female speaker.
Christian's eyes scan the area trying to locate the source of the warning.
The ulfen ranger freezes at the woman’s words, Well, thank you then for your warning. Who do I owe thanks to, and what can you tell us of our quarry? the ranger doesn’t look for the speaker, and his hand doesn’t even stray toward his quiver, suspecting an elf is about to appear from nowhere.
Syretia's eyes go wide, and she almost reflexively casts a spell to enhance her senses as she searches for the source of the voice.
Syretia's heightened awareness suddenly leaves her all too aware of a foul smell wafting from nearby. It leaves her eyes watering and keeps her from tracing the source of the voice just yet.
Lord Christian fights through both the smell and the scrub brush along the trail and finds the source.
A disheveled elven woman sits at the foot of a rock, leaning against it for support. She makes no effort to move the frizzy, tangled hair out of her face so she can see you, seeming to lack the strength to move her arms. Her right hand is crudely bandaged, and her clothes are soaked with mud and filth.
"Don't expect me to bow or curtsy or some nonsense," she says, her voice hoarse. "Even if I could get up, I don't feel like puking again."
Bydar moves to her hurriedly
"Let me help, please. I'm Bydar of Shelyn, I know a bit about healing," And he takes the bandaged hand o so gently, then says "This has gotten infected." First things first, he offers her a drink of his water, even if he has to hold it for her while she does so.
Brandt nods at the elf's words, listening to her speak. Is our quarry the one who did this to you? Who is it exactly we're pursuing then? I've no doubt of your ability to move unseen, so who is this great barefoot hunter we're behind?
He looks at Syretia wrinkling her nose from the noisome smell, and Lord Christian's own distaste for the odor that assailed them. Lifting his scarf to cover his nose and mouth, Brandt watches Bydar tend to the elf's wounds, while continuing to scan the surroundings for the trap he feels is closing around them.
My lady I do believe that all diplomatic etiquette can be postponed for a more appropriate time. If you do not mind I think your wounds are more important right now.
Christian watches the woman with a comforting smile.
Once you are on the mend we can talk more but for now please allow Bydar to heal your wounds.
"That...that does not smell good at all," Syretia says, her voice muffled by the sleeve covering her mouth and nose.
Bydar tends to the hand, if need be, lancing the infection, and then, praying over it, "Shelyn , thy purifying love wipe away the ugliness that would contaminate her."
"May what was lost in illness now be returned"
And then, another prayer, soft and short
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"You're kinda cute up close," the elf says to Bydar as the Shelynite tends her wounds and illness. "Of course, you all looked a bit different from the treetops."
With a defiant smile, she properly introduces herself as Nore.
"Well, my name is really Lenore, but I shortened it to make things easier. Well, actually even Lenore is just a shortened version of my real real name to make things easier for the folks who have trouble pronouncing elf names, which is most of them."
She also confirms that the person you've been tracking, although she doesn't know his name, is the one who injured her.
"Only an hour or two after abandoning the Whitehollows at the broken down temple, I ran into this old man just wandering the forest. He seemed like an easy mark. I figured I could roll the old coot, take whatever coppers he had, and use them to buy some food at the trading post before making my way out of the River Kingdoms.
"Suddenly, this cougar leaps out from the brush. I go to grab the old guy and throw him to the animal so I can make my escape. Only, the old guy grabs my arm and..."
Nore pauses, both to catch her breath and to swallow the lump in her throat.
"Crazy bastard bit off three of my fingers!" she says through grit teeth, shaking her right hand which, when Bydar tends the injury, you see only still has the thumb and index finger. "Then the crazed cannibal hermit starts talking to the cougar. I guess the two are companions? I don't know. I didn't stick around to find out. I got the hell out of there before they could try to eat the rest of me."
Bydar cheeks pinken a bit, "Well, thank you. If I may say, Lenore is a lovely name." He looks at the fingers, "I'm very sorry, restoring your fingers is beyond the power of any miracle my goddess has bestowed upon me at this time. Perhaps if I grow to be worthy, one day I can."
He sighs however at her full story, "Please, don't try to 'roll' anyone again. If you were in dire need of coin, you might have come to us and we might have provided. But I won't go into a priestly lecture about how wrong it is to mug people or throw them to cougars. I think you've suffered a harsh enough , no, too harsh a lesson." A sad look at that hand, "Definitely too Harsh. And I'm sorry for the loss there."
He looks to Syretia "Do you have a cantrip that can clean her up a bit? I could create water over her, but soaking her out of the blue seems a bit... rude."
While the potency of the stench soon fades out of Syretia's awareness, her look of distaste remains as Nore tells her story. She doesn't react to Bydar's question at first, not realizing the cleric is speaking to her.
"What? Oh, yes. Nore, this might feel a bit funny, but don't move or you could end up with blue hair or a bright pink earlobe."
When she's satisfied the ranger/bandit will submit to her ministrations, Syretia begins the process of magically cleaning the blood, dirt, and other assorted debris from Nore's person.
His smile widens more as he hears her name.
Uncouth and unwashed...makes sense now
Of course all look different when you look them in the eye.
I jest...Lady Lenore, tis a pleasure to meet you face to face. Now only the brothers and their childhood friend remain. What are we to do with you? Do we turn you in and claim the bounty, kill you right here and be done with it, exile you out of the region or or do we give you a second try at life.
He points to her fingers.
A painful lesson but did you learn anything from it.
Christian nods slightly
There is a harder path to follow, one that can bring rewards beyond your imagination. A difficult road to walk, one filled with determination and discipline. I think it is possible but it comes down to you and what you want.
My lady, we have healed your wounds without knowing who you were. Granted you did give warning that a trap was ahead. I have the right to turn you over to Restov. I am not sure that is the right thing to do. You did abandon the brothers when they needed you the most. That in of itself may have been critical in our success. So Lady Lenore I ask..what is it that you wish to happen now and where do you see yourself in your future? How do you see yourself accomplishing that future?
"What? Oh, yes. Nore, this might feel a bit funny, but don't move or you could end up with blue hair or a bright pink earlobe."
"That actually sounds pretty amazing," Nore replies to Syretia. She tries to laugh but it quickly devolves into a cough. "Seriously, though, I'm not going anywhere right now. The handsome healer here has me feeling much better now, but I'm not exactly ready to be climbing any more trees just yet."
She closes her eyes and lets Syretia work her magic.
"I don't think I ever felt so gods awful in my life before. And I've done Runoff shots in Starfall."
Nore listens to Lord Christian's pitch, taking in his words with her eyes still closed.
"If you were smart, you'd turn me in to the Technic League instead of Brevoy. You'd get the better bounty, that way," she says, hazarding a wry smile.
"Surviving is my only real talent. I've survived in cities; I've survived out in the ass end of nowhere. If you want me to work for you, I'll work for you."
Brandt grins in spite of himself, She's got a point there Christian, her talents are remarkable certainly. I'm none too keen on turning her over to Brevoy or the Technic League, at least she's aided us here today so she's deserving of that at the least. Wouldn't hurt to have a set of eyes and ears out here in the wilds; she's sneakier than I am by a long way, and clearly is a proven survivor. Of course, she'd have to stop trying to assault random passers by, but then again we wouldn't know so much about this mysterious man and cougar if she hadn't.... No, definitely no assaulting passers-by. he clearly considered this a moment, and discarded it as a terrible idea moving forward.
"If you were smart, you'd turn me in to the Technic League instead of Brevoy. You'd get the better bounty, that way,"
"Surviving is my only real talent. I've survived in cities; I've survived out in the ass end of nowhere. If you want me to work for you, I'll work for you."Money is not everything. I would like to avoid any entanglements with the League as much as possible. It is unlikely that we will ever see eye to eye.Just how bad is your bounty and why is there one?
Christian looks to the others for a moment.
A valuable resource yes but at what cost? Our actions will affect many.He looks at Nore for a long moment in silence.
I tell you what. I think you are deserving of a second chance. If you are willing to follow our laws and build a better life, a trusting life, a life dedicate to this new realm and its people. I will give you that second chance and please do not lie to me. I would rather you tell me now that this is not for you then to tell me what you think I want to hear. If you are willing to stop just surviving and try to live life...to enjoy life. We will give you a place to call home.He steps back and nods at her.
If yes then you can come with us to Brevoy and we will plead your case...or...you can travel to Charis and wait for our return. Barris could use the company.
"Barris? You let that ponce live?" Nore groans. "I think I'd rather come with you, if only to avoid having to deal with him again."
She sharpens her expression quickly.
"Actually, I think I really do want to come with you, if only to exact revenge on that damned cannibal. Or exact justice, if you'd prefer that term."
She pauses to shuffle herself up the rock and push herself back to her feet.
"But yeah, I'll join you. I'm not one for hemming and hawing or agonizing over decisions. I know the best choice when I see it. Besides, I figure I owe you for keeping me out of the Boneyard, and I hate owing anybody anything," she adds whilst struggling to stand, still clearly unsteady.
"Barris? You let that ponce live?" Nore groans. "I think I'd rather come with you, if only to avoid having to deal with him again."
The brothers left him behind to die at our hands. He has decided that they are not worth his life. It is my hope you are willing to offer any information about the Taldorians that would help us locate them.
"Actually, I think I really do want to come with you, if only to exact revenge on that damned cannibal. Or exact justice, if you'd prefer that term."
Christian smiles slightly in a joking fashion to help ease the tension.
So exactly how does one exact revenge or justice on a person that they themselves were attempting to roll? A mark if you will. He got the better of you..granted I would not be happy about the outcome but you did admit to trying to rob him.Suffice it to say that this person and his feline companion are wanted for what appears to be an assault on a Red Shield merchant wagon. We believe they are responsible for it and should be dealt with to insure the safety of the roads.
She pauses to shuffle herself up the rock and push herself back to her feet."But yeah, I'll join you. I'm not one for hemming and hawing or agonizing over decisions. I know the best choice when I see it. Besides, I figure I owe you for keeping me out of the Boneyard, and I hate owing anybody anything," she adds whilst struggling to stand, still clearly unsteady.
When you only have yourself to worry about, the decision making is easier. These days everything we do affects so many more than just us.
He looks towards the east.We have a few places to visit along the way but we plan to make for Restov. Lots to talk about when we get there.
He looks back a Nore
Now so that we can best help you out. You will need to explain to us what exactly you did to piss off the Technic League.
"From what I've heard, being able to read and write is enough to earn a 'kill on sight' order from the League. Nore is certainly no angel--no offense--but being an enemy of the League makes me like her just a little bit more."