Christian rubs his hands over his face. A sigh escapes his lips while he closes his eyes.
A difficult decision this is. The Taldor rulers have all but declared war on us and yet the whole of Taldor may not be behind this war. If we aid her excellency, we could bring all of Taldor down on us...allies and all. Then again, we may be able to splinter the Taldorain force.
He stands and paces back and forth.
If...this is a big if...If she is able to persuade units and sequester them away from the main force, this will weaken our enemy. One of two things could happen at that time. Either they merge with us when the battle is joined...or...
He pauses for dramatic affect.
...She leads those units back to Oppara to take control of Taldor.
Christian nods to himself a bit and smiles.
Perhaps it is time to sit down with all our Taldorian friends. To see just where everyone stands and how far their influential reach is exactly.
He stops and ponders his next words for a moment before he continues.
Speaking of influential...How does everyone feel about reaching an accord with the Redshield merchant house. Maybe a meeting is in order to see what they want and where they want to be.
"I also lean towards supporting our guests as Syretia and Brandt suggest. Though, I do see the dangers."
He stops and ponders his next words for a moment before he continues.
Speaking of influential...How does everyone feel about reaching an accord with the Redshield merchant house. Maybe a meeting is in order to see what they want and where they want to be.
"When I first heard of the Redshields about, I had high hopes. We might be able to offer them legitimacy as a Noble House of OUR land if they were willing to assist the people here. But the more I learn of them, the more I distrust their methods and goals. They seem too materialistic for my liking, and I say that when my own House is not exactly unambitious." A troubled look "But we probably should give them a chance. Even if they live down to my fears, we'll at least know about them. And if they pleasantly surprise, then the better. I don't suggest we mention our Taldor guests to them too lightly."
"Materialistic is one word for them," Sapphira replies to Bydar's contribution about the Redshields. "They do business in a lot of the shady goods that you'd expect to be flowing in and out of the River Kingdoms - poisons, pesh, weapons, and so on.
"However, their biggest and most profitable trade seems to be in bodies."
Sapphira explains that the Redshields seem to be involved in slaving operations running through Numeria, Razmiran, Molthune, and parts of Brevoy - although they like to label it as 'indentured servitude' to maintain a facade of geniality.
"In regards to their work with the Technic League, they're definitely also using this trade route to export - or smuggle - star metal and strange technology out of Numeria. I don't know what they might be exporting out of Razmiran. I've also heard rumors that they're mainly importing food, weapons, and other supplies to the crusaders in Mendev as a cover for exporting something from the Worldwound. I really don't want to think about what that could possibly be.
"In short, the Redshields will delve into any business that will reap huge profits. I can't even figure out what they're doing with all this money. They're hoarding it like a bunch of damn dragons."
Bydar takes this news of slavery in
"Ah, then let me adjust my prior opinion of considering them..." Ahem "HELL no."
A shake of his head, "One of the River Freedoms that I definitely agree with is 'Slavery is an Abomination'. Nearly a third of River Kingdom locals are said to be either escaped slaves or the children of same. We need to shut down their operations in our area, free any slaves they have."
Syretia simply gives a single, emphatic nod.
Okay, so we need to learn everything about these Redshields, what they are doing, and burn their ships to the ground? Brandt interjects.
Anger flares in his eyes as he hears those words...indentured servitude.
Slavery
He spits the word out with venom in his tone.
Then his composure calms and he looks to Sapphira.
...seem to be involved...
I would like to have all intelligence we have on this house confirmed. I need to know the facts before we judge them. If slavery is how they earn their coins, then there will be no home for them here. When word spreads to all corners of the river kingdoms, there will be no home for them anywhere around here as well.
I would like to have all intelligence we have on this house confirmed. I need to know the facts before we judge them. If slavery is how they earn their coins, then there will be no home for them here. When word spreads to all corners of the river kingdoms, there will be no home for them anywhere around here as well.
"Don't need to tell me twice," Sapphira says proudly. "Finding ways to foil these businessmen could be very profitable. Now, I know what you all are probably thinking about the money they've made from their schemes - I think the term is 'ill-gotten gains' - and how it might be somehow tainted by their deeds, but the right thing to do is to reclaim the money and put it to good use. Countering the bad they've done by doing some good, right?"
"I'll also keep all my eyes and ears open for any lingering activity by Lamashtu worshipers in the region. They creep me out. My mother once told me about a cousin of ours who set herself up as some sort of idol or queen for a group of Lamashtan. It didn't end well for anyone."
Beneath her hooded cloak, your medusa enforcer gives an involuntary shudder, reflecting upon the story.
Christian has a rarely seen sight on his face, a look of anger.
I want the Red Shields movements as well. I want to know when, where, and how they are moving people...and if this information should happen to show up on the doorsteps of others in the region. So be it.
The young nobleman looks at the maps and other papers that are strewn about the table.
If the Red Shields as a whole have turned a blind eye in favor of profit, then we will dismantle the house but if they have members that are not happy with the way things are run in their ranks...we may be able to exploit that weakness to take control of the house. I did just that when I took control of Argent Lupe.
He stands and nods to Sapphira.
We dealt a great blow to the Lamashtu cult. I hope we have seen the last of them, but we must remain vigilant. Pull whatever resources you need to find all available information.
"I've also heard about more sightings in the swamps to the south from the local hunters, coming in to drink away their wages. Rather than trolls, it sounds like there's definitely a tribe of lizardfolk dwelling around one of the rivers or lakes. Best case scenario, they might be a good buffer or sentry against any Taldan incursions northward. Worst case scenario, they've already clashed with the Whitehollows and might be hostile towards outsiders.
"If you don't have any other priorities, you might want to track them down and settle the situation."
Huh, so lizardfolk to the south, and who knows what to the west or east. We definitely need to keep getting a better sense for what's out there. Perhaps Christian can work his magic like with the kobolds once more! Brandt laughs, but is treating the matter seriously.
I think a visit is in order. If we are going to have a group of enemies to the south...better to know now than when Taldor comes calling on them.
He smiles at Brand.
I would rather have an ally to my south. I can only hope that the magic will work again.
"The Kobolds have proven to be boon allies" He smiles at Brandt's comments, "They're hard workers and some even embrace artistry. Yes, maybe the Lizardfolk will at least appreciate peaceful overtures."
If there are no objections...we will make arrangements to travel to the lizard folk.
Brandt will use some of the downtime to begin working on a new bow for himself, selecting just the right stave and working it to create a powerful new weapon. He purchases, new, better tools, and begins thinking of the basics of making a bow which Oluff had taught him, and refining his technique.
But no progress was made, and he puts the tools down prepared to venture out into the southern lands, seeing where Christian wants to meet these Lizardfolk on a map.
Bydar nods. And his own attempts at statuary are already documented. He does consult with priestly peers to hear their concerns and reports, and his fellow Shelynites as his own flock. Making sure all will be well and no healing of spiritual needs neglected while he is gone to visit the lizard folk.
"It makes sense to me," Syretia says with a nod.
You don't have an exact location for the lizardfolk settlement. However, cross referencing the sightings collected by Sapphira with your maps of the region, you can conclude that it lies somewhere southwest of Charis in the swampy regions of the Narlmarches. In particular, searching along the Murque River seems like a promising start.
Brandt leads the way, with Fenrir by his side, winding the party's way through the swampy Narlmarches towards where he thinks would be a good place for a lizardfolk encampment to be...
Brandt and Orlog's survival skills keep the party from getting stuck in the swampy terrain along the western coast of the Tuskwater. Thus, you make good time in your trek. The ground conditions make it quite difficult for Brandt to locate any tracks not belonging to elk or other large animals.
As dusk approaches, Syretia, Bydar, and Christian spot an oddity: a thin tendril of bluish smoke trickling into the sky draws their attention to a squat, mud-brick hut sitting atop a small hummock in the middle of a fetid marsh. Squinting your eyes against the gathering gloom, you see that a rickety wooden fence hems in a yard around the hut.
Fenrir's ears pin back, and he makes a sound somewhere between growling and whimpering. The wolfhound clearly senses something he doesn't like about the place.
You also discover evidence that someone has been cultivating and harvesting local plants in this stretch of swampland.
Brandt doesn't seem to notice this. You wonder whether you should brag.
Bydar points out the tendril of smoke "isn't that an odd hue for smoke?"
Brandt stops at Fenrir's response to the place, He's well-trained to deal with unnatural things, so we've got something here giving him the heebie-jeebies. That color smoke is usually wet wood, or something damp being on the burn rather than crisp, dry tinder. the Ulfen slowly reaches his hand back toward his quiver, instinctually. Want me to check it out? he asks, drawing the color-changing cloak around himself and obscuring some into the swampy environs.
"Yes, yes. Bluish smoke, super weird." He walks toward something else that attracted his attention. "Look here, now this is more something that concern me. Tracks right here. Left by someone wearing shoes, walking by themselves. And whoever that is, seems to have been cultivating and harvesting plants." He points at different spots on ground. "Now, who would be living here by themselve? Either they are crazy or powerful enough to have the big evil things avoid them."
Looking in the direction of the smoke brings a look of concern to the noble mercenary.
I agree with Orlog. Whomever this may be, they are respected if not fear outright. So that means of course that we are going to go and check it out. Right?
Brandt creeps towards the hut on the hill, making his way through the marsh as quietly as possible. A chill races down his spine when the stillness of dusk is broken by the noisy caws from a crow perched atop a nearby cypress tree.
Upon drawing closer, Brandt finds that the wooden fence surrounding the perimeter of the mound is festooned with crude fetishes crafted out of sticks, feathers, and animal bones. A single gate hangs askew at one point in the waist-high fence. A fist-sized rusted iron bell hangs from a hairy length of rope tied to a crooked post next to the gate.
The region around the hut is an 80 foot diameter area of solid ground, thick with bog grass and dotted with small cattail-clogged pools. A pumpkin-headed scarecrow is propped up in the yard, midway between the gate and the door to the hut.
Brandt hisses back through gritted teeth, I think maybe Syretia should be the one to go forward, seems more up her alley than mine. Reminds me of a woods witch's house...he breathes out slowly, Or I can ring the bell. Unlikely she's not already aware we're out here....
Syretia smirks, then looks out with her magical senses, looking for traps, enchantments, or anything else that might be dangerous.
Christian looks around the area as Syretia casts her spell.
His eyes rise to the blue smoke drifting out of the hut and then to the bell.
To claim an area of solid ground out here is impressive. Someone is more than capable of handling themself...or themselves.
He raises his hand towards the bell with a look of respect on his face.
I think it is best to announce ourselves.
He waits as he looks to Syretia.
Syretia's attuned eyes pick out a singular magical aura in the area: the scarecrow.
The pumpkin-headed scarecrow in the yard glows, in her eyes, with a potent aura. Syretia is almost certain that it is actually some manner of construct, likely with orders to guard against intruders venturing unbidden into the owner's yard.
"The scarecrow is likely to respond if we breach the fence. Negatively, I'd guess. I think being polite is the right call here." She gives Christian a nod.
Chrisitan nods and proceeds to ring the bell.
Bydar makes sure he's half way presentable, wiping his feet on the grass and checking his hair
Brandt looks over at Bydar, I understand a mandate, but I do be sure the lady of this swamp will not care overmuch about your messy hair or muddy boots - but maybe you'll prove me wrong. he jests with the cleric, trying to lighten the mood some. The Ulfen woodsman continues to scan the hut and its 'lawn' for movement, paying extra attention to if that scarecrow budges, and wondering would the flaming ransuer chase the scarecrow off?...
Bydar actually smiles at that, using an old joke the novices of Shelyn often threw around in jest, "Don't hate me because I'm holy." And he gives his hair a bit more of a toss, then chuckles, "You're right, of course. But I figure it can't hurt to try."
Bydar and Brandt's discussion of frontier decorum is cut short as, soon after Lord Christian rings the rusty bell at the gate, the door to the hut slams open with such force that you're surprised it doesn't fly off its hinges.
"Who's there? State yer business!" shrieks a wizened voice from the now-open door.
As your eyes adjust to the dim light of dusk, you make out the silhouette of a very old woman standing in the doorway. As more details become distinguishable, you see that there is a greenish hue to her leathery skin, and her ears taper to sharp points.
Good evening to you. My name is Christian, and these are my companions.
He proceeds to introduce the group.
We are exploring the region and found your home. I apologize for intruding on your privacy. If you would be kind enough to share your knowledge of the region, I have coin to pay.
Looking at the woman, Orlog lean toward Brand. "Yeah... This doesn't help to know if she survive here because she is powerful or the other thing." He walks up next to Christian. "She cultivates the plants around here. Maybe she has some for sell. I'm no herbalist, but there are bound to be some that could be interesting."
Brandt keeps a wary eye on the construct and the old woman, right, I imagine she can handle herself without too much trouble given the environs and how long that hut's been there. but doesn't budge other than to glance down at Fenrir and see how the hound is responding to the woman's appearance.
Christian looks on at the woman trying his best to no show any signs of revulsion.
He looks down and nods to Orlog.
Maybe she is a herbalist, akin to Master Bokken? Medicines and potions for the people of the region would be a great boon. Let us see how she reacts to us first.
He turns his attention back to the women.
May we come in and break bread. Talk and share tales?
"You can talk from there," the old woman says, her voice less curt but still stern.
Lord Christian's overtures have softened the swamp woman's demeanor by a shade, although that merely means she reins in her bitterness long enough for the conversation to unfold.
A rattle in her throat forms into a sigh before she spits, "So what do you want to know?"
Christian, I do believe she's a fey creature, be careful what bargains you strike, Syretia, any clues?he whispers to his companions.
His eyebrow raises at the mention of fey and he nods his understanding to Brand.
"We've heard rumors of iruxi in these areas recently, and were wondering if you might have heard or seen anything. We've been hoping to make contact with them for a while now."
"Yeah, yeah, I've seen and heard plenty of them," she replies, voice somewhere between dismissive and dissolving bitterness. "They visit periodically to trade fish and game. They only stay long enough to finish the deal. No chit-chat. I don't mind them. They aren't fond of outsiders, either."
"Do you know what they might be seeking in trade that would make outsiders more welcome? We want to make a good impression." Bydar admits .
(Not sure if Charming would help here, or if I want it to ;) )