Oathday, the 4th of Arodus, AR 4711--Sandpoint, Varisia
The summer sun is finally setting on Sandpoint, the sunset a brilliant arc across the Varisian Gulf. A pleasant sea breeze flows through the town, bringing the scent of brine alongside the market stalls' wares and the chatter of the townsfolk. A frontier town though it may be, Sandpoint is largely a quiet place, undisturbed by more than rumor and tales of dangers further afield. It's been years since the Unpleasantness, now put out of my mind by most folk; and even the goblins and other beasts of the region are only threats to those who travel outside of the safe roads, no matter the bounty posted by Sheriff Hemlock.
So for the most part, this day in the Rusty Dragon has been like any other. Those few travelers who found their way here and preferred it to Sandpoint's other establishments have either gone about their business, or enjoyed the rustic hospitality and foreign touches that make the inn feel at once both exotic and homely. As evening fell, both travelers and locals came for their repast of spiced dishes, noodles and seafood and greens mingling into a wonderful concoction. Drinks are shared, all from home-brewed ciders and beers to mulled wines, and all overseen by the Dragon's proprietors, the Kaijitsus.
Though now but a handful in number here--most townsfolk believe, from rumor or supposition, that there must be other Kaijitsus living in other cities--the clan has strong ties to the community, and indeed the old-blood Kaijitsus were among the wealthy families who helped to found Sandpoint some fifty years ago, at least as the elders tell it. Now, though, Lonjiku and his wife Atsuii own and operate the Rusty Dragon, keeping it one of Sandpoint's finest places for eating, drinking, and sleeping off your travels. Their daughter, Ameiko, has also worked there as the chief of the bar for the past two years, having returned from a stint of adventuring.
And you, Haruto, have also returned to your family's residence and business. Your own travels in the past years have taken you far afield, and you have done battle with everything from brigands to goblins to a rumored Devil in the hills--though it was only the phantom steed of a fiendish sorcerer, in the end. But in recent weeks, you've felt more and more strongly a pull in your mind, as though something were directing you back to your childhood home. When a letter from Ameiko found you in Magnimar, asking when you would return, you wondered if it shouldn't be soon. When you discovered your old companion Sandru in the city, readying his caravan to travel to Sandpoint, it seemed clear that fate had conspired to bring you back home.
And indeed, it seems fate is well at hand, for tonight as you busy yourself in the Rusty Dragon, and as the day turns to night, food to drink, and idle chatter to friendly banter, the doors of the inn are thrust open and conversation comes to a quick halt. The men and women who've just entered are a familiar sight to you in shape if not name: clearly young adventurers, returned from their day's work. Three seem in fine enough shape, but one man is pale, and has an impressive stain of blood across his tunic. He walks sturdily enough, though, and you imagine he must have suffered quite a wound before receiving healing spells.
Their apparent leader, a Varisian youth with patchy stubble, thrusts his hand into the air, a leather string of goblin ears hanging from his fist. "A round on the Licktoads!" he cries, soon receiving shouts of approval and laughter from the other patrons of the inn. Lonjiku frowns and shakes his head at the foolishness, returning to the kitchens, but Ameiko laughs and sets about pouring drinks.
It's not long before the adventurers find a place near your own, and you can't help but overhear their conversation--mostly regarding their travels. "I can't believe how well it went, to be honest," the Varisian says, wiping foam from his lip. "Well, apart from your stomach, Derrick. That damned skeleton was quite a foe."
"I'm just glad you idiots were smart enough to grab me and run," the wounded man says, sipping from his own flagon. "That ship was none of our business. What in the Hells was it doing there, anyway?"
"As you say--none of our business." This from a half-elf woman, who has about a half-dozen blades sheathed on her person as you can see. "And you were the one foolish enough to walk up to it."
Haruto drops heavily into one of the seats at the bar, wiping his brow with the corner of his sleeve. He had forgotten how hot the taproom got when it was busy and they were running back and forth to all night. Perhaps he had been gone from home a little too long if he'd let nights at the Dragon slip from his mind. Even if he was doing good on his travels, completely neglecting his family was not the way to go about it.
The sound of a rather boisterous new arrival cuts through his somber thoughts. "Goblins," he mutters with a roll of his eyes as the young adventurer presents his prize. It seemed Sandpoint still had the little menaces roaming around the swamps. Some things never changed apparently. The mention of a skeleton perks his interest a great deal more than yet another band of goblins poking their heads out and getting knocked down for it. "Get them something to eat on me," he asks his foster mother as he gets to his feet.
He crosses the room and puts a hand on the bloody man's shoulder. "Sounds like you had quite the day," he says jovially. "I hope you saw Father Zantus about that. The last thing you want is to pass out during the victory celebration." He chuckles. "But it sounds like you've got a story to tell! How about I get you a round too and you share?"
At your request, Atsuii nods and places a hand on one of your own. "Don't stir up anything, and don't be leaving us on another journey so soon," she says. Her eyes are calm, but you sense the typical worry in her words. Regardless of how well you handle yourself, she and Lonjiku have always harbored concern at your travels and adventures. But she doesn't press the issue, and calls an order to Lonjiku in Minkaian.
The trip to the adventurers' table is mercifully short and simple, and there's even a spare seat that they gesture for you to take. The bloodied man--Derrick, the Varisian called him--sets his flagon down and opens his mouth, but the halfling girl across from him is quicker to respond.
"We were hunting goblins in the swamp for the bounty when we found a ship," she says, her words tumbling from her mouth like a waterfall. Given the size of the mug before her--and how little is left in the glass--you wonder if it's her nature or the drink. Probably both. "Not a rowboat or even one of the fishing boats like you see here but a real ship! Probably had masts and everything before they rotted away. And inside there was--"
"We don't rightly know what was inside," the Varisian cuts her off. She frowns, then smiles and returns to her drink, as he picks up the story. "We poked around for an entrance before we finally found one, and then when we went up to it, a skeleton popped out. Sounds like a bad ghost story, but that's how it went."
"Tiervo said we should stand back," the half-elf adds, gesturing to the Varisian man. "Damned thing was all decked in weird armor, and had a sword like..." She pauses and glances at your katana . "Like that one! Never seen anything like it. The thing acted funny, too, pointed the sword at us and started chattering its jaw like it was trying to talk. And then mutton-for-brains"--this clearly directed at Derrick--"just walks up to it, fine as you please."
"Can you blame me? It was clearly looking for one of us to do something. Beckoning." He huffs and looks at you, somewhat sheepishly. "It... wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had, I'll admit. Turns out it wanted to fight, and I'm not much of a swordsman, myself."
"So that's when Tiervo used his Desna magic and made the skeleton go away and we grabbed Derrick and Tiervo healed him and we came back here quick as we could!" the halfling pipes in. The others all look at her, and she beams back, her drink now finished. "And that's how we got here and then you came up to our table!"
"Relax, mother. I just want to make sure there aren't any undead lurking around town." Haruto pats the top of Atsuii's hand. "Sandpoint sees enough trouble without adding more to the pile." He tries to smile reassuringly as he goes to greet the other adventurers.
Haruto bites his tongue to keep from chuckling as the halfling jumps to answer before her companion can. He listens quietly until the half-elf points to the sword at his side. "Like this?" He lifts the blade a bit so they can see it better. "Strange. Not a lot of katanas around Varisia." He taps his fingers absently as they finish their story. "Sounds like some poor bastards ran aground ages ago and couldn't rest easy in the middle of the swamp." Perhaps someone should see to that. Even if they were just the remains of the crew, they at least deserved to rest in peace, not linger as skeletal horrors. "You're lucky your friend knows how to patch you up properly."
He waves to Atsuii as she approaches with their meal. "Thank you kindly. And it seems these brave souls already have empty tankards. Put the next round on me, would you?"
The Varisian, Tiervo, nods at your musings. "I'm no expert on the undead, but I learned a fair bit at the temple where I trained. If Derrick's right, and that skeleton wants something, then maybe that's the key to putting it down. But that thing is too dangerous for us. Sheena's quick and Liv is handy with her swords--"
"--But you couldn't pay me to go back against that thing," the half-elf adds. "Goblins are one thing. Homicidal skeletons are another."
When Atsuii brings over a platter of food--roast hares, and a fish-and-crab noodle bowl--the adventurers graciously accept and dig in, only pausing to give another cheer as you offer to buy the next round of drinks. Atsuii shakes her head and rolls her eyes, but there's a smile on her face all the while.
"So what's the deal with you, and that sword?" Liv, the half-elf, fixes her eyes on you after a large bite of her hare. "You called it a, what, a kataka? That's pretty close to what we saw, only the skeleton's was shorter, I think."
"Wouldn't surprise me," Haruto agrees. While his experience with undead is mostly limited to the occasional haunting or fighting an undead monster lurking around, the cleric's thoughts match what little he's seen. "A proper undead hunter always needs to be on top of their game, I suppose." He nods with a smile to his mother as she delivers their meal and chuckles as the novice adventurers cheer. He missed this kind of camaraderie when he was traveling alone. It just wasn't the same.
His eyes track Atsuii's movements as she goes to speak with Ameiko and something tells him that he's the subject of their conversation. He loves his family, he really does, but his adoptive mother was one of the most overprotective people he had ever met. "Oh, this?" He gestures to the sword again. "As you can probably tell, I'm Tian by blood. This sort of blade comes from places like Minkai or Shokuro all the way on the other side of the world. I learned as a family tradition, but I don't know many other people who picked it up. The skeleton you ran into was probably Tian too."
"I've heard stories about Tian Xia, yes," Tiervo says, nodding eagerly. A gleam of curiosity is in his eyes. "I haven't met many people from there, or even with family who were. I wonder what a ship of Tien travelers was doing in the swamp, though?"
"He already made a good guess," the halfling pipes in. "They ran aground whenever ago. Probably got caught up in a storm or something. I wonder where they were sailing from though because it was really a really big ship like the kind you would use for longer voyages so I bet they weren't from around here maybe up north somewhere because that's where the storms really get--"
"I hear we have you four to thank for a fair fewer goblins near our town," a voice interrupts, accompanied by a platter of drinks being set down on the table--loudly. Ameiko's tone is jovial and friendly with perhaps a hint of well-intended mischief, her usual manner when talking to customers. But you've known her long enough to tell the way her hand shakes, just so slightly, as she sets the tall glasses on the table. She's nervous, for whatever reason.
But she hides it well and is all smiles; none of the others seem to catch it. They clap and cheer again at the fresh round of drinks, and Derrick even flips her a gold coin--which she deftly snatches from the air and disappears into one fist before flashing it between the fingers of her opposite hand with a grin. Sheena the halfling seems particularly impressed by the display, and the others turn to stop hre from showering your sister with all the coin she has.
While they're distracted, she leans down so her face is near yours, squeezing your shoulder. "You want to go check that out, don't you?" Even you can barely hear her whisper. Her voice is even, but tinged with concern.
"Probably," Haruto agrees. The thought of more storms at sea momentarily robs him of his voice as memories play out in his head for a few moments. "You get traders from everywhere every once in a while, even from Tian Xia. They were probably on a voyage and the water was high enough to wash them into the swamp and put an end to that." Just how old the ship is seems like the bigger question to him, but he keeps that concern to himself.
The monk smiles back at Ameiko as she brings over the next round. But he can't ignore the look of uncertainty on her face. It's not a common look on her, and certainly one that makes him concerned. As his sister leans down and speaks, he just nods. "I was considering it. Someone needs to deal with the undead at the very least."
Ameiko nods, ever so slightly; you sense it more in the movement of her hair than actually seeing the bob of her head. "I figured you were. You should talk to mother and father first, though. They worry about you running off on your own. And they might be interested in this." She stands back up as the kerfuffle among the adventurers ends, the halfling pouting before eagerly reaching for her new drink. "I hope you'll all stay to hear me perform later," she says, her voice upbeat once more. The four of them give their agreement, and she returns to her other work.
The adventurers, for their part, are happy to just spend time relaxing here with good food and drink. They welcome your company for as long as you remain with them, and they're keenly interested to hear of your own ventures, should you be willing to share. Tiervo and Derrick love to hear of travels and sites seen, Liv--short for Livarael, you learn--presses you for information about your battles, and Sheena quickly begins slurring into incomprehensible gibberish, although she's clearly hooked to your every word.
Haruto fights down a sigh and nods right back. She did have a point. And there was no reason to worry their parents, even if he was just going out to the swamp. He could handle some common animals and a goblin or two, but they cared and he loved them for it. "Of course. I'm not going anywhere until the morning anyway!" He chuckles and raises his drink. It has been quite a while since he's seen Ameiko perform.
He's more than happy to sit with the adventurers for a while. It's been far too long since he's had good company to swap stories with. Traveling on your own does get lonely after a while, even if there's always another caravan to hitch a ride with in Varisia. He ends up sharing a story of hunting down some smugglers in Ilsurian, which ended with an all-out brawl at the town's river docks.
The evening passes as so many do in the Dragon: fine food, good drink, pleasant conversation, and performances from local artists of the night. The main attraction is Ameiko's time on her shamisen, captivating the audience with a mixture of mournful tunes, upbeat songs, and even renditions of local favorites with the listeners singing along. It's near midnight by the time most folk have retired to their rooms or homes, and your family and the other employees clean up from the night's entertainment. It is past midnight when the workers return to their rooms as well, and eventually only you and your father remain in the kitchen as he scrubs clean the last pots and pans.
"Your sister tells me you're thinking of venturing into the swamp. Something about a ship there, and the restless undead?" His voice is as conversational as it ever is, which is to say, still clearly weighted with thought and import. Lonjiku is above all else a man of composure and discipline, and you can't recall a time his words didn't have plenty of thought and intent behind them; you can imagine he has been planning to broach this subject for hours. "It is important to help all souls go to rest, but why not leave it to folk like those four goblin-slayers? Or the priests. It seems you are always chasing death, my son." He looks up at you with a smile. "Although you have not found it yet, thank the heavens."
Haruto spends a great deal of the night swapping stories with the goblin hunters and enjoying the company in the main room. Ameiko's songs seem to capture the hearts of everyone in the taproom and it seems that the sole time they fall silent is to listen to her next piece. It truly has been too long since he was last here. Eventually, he makes his excuses to the novice adventurers and slips back into the kitchen to help clean up from the dinner rush.
Haruto sighs. His father was always like this. "I am," he says, not bothering to make excuses. "Whoever goes out there to deal with the dead are going to be in danger. But I cannot in good conscience wait for someone else to have the time to go out there and take care of it. Not when I have the ability to do it now, before the undead can cause any harm to someone who can't fight back."
Lonjiku nods his head and sets down the iron brush, picking up a rag to polish the now-clean pot. "You speak well, and rightly. I'm glad my own lessons, and those of the Blue Stone, have helped shape you into such a fine man. There is not only honor in defending others, but righteousness. It is only just that those who are capable of dealing with threats see their end."
Your father sets the pot aside and leans back, rolling his shoulders with a stifled grunt. Lonjiku has never told you his precise age, but you imagine he must be over fifty, and his hair is more gray than black, now. But he still has a broad chest and shoulders, and even age has done little to shrink his limbs or fatten his middle. Still, it may be something of a surprise when he pats his hands on the counter and grins. "That's why I'm coming with you. Wake at dawn, a quick breakfast, and then on the road, yes?"
Haruto can't keep the look of surprise off his face. While he can certainly respect his father's outlook, he had been prepared to argue until he was blue in the face to convince him not to make a fuss about him going out to do it. "I..." It takes him a moment to consider just what the hell to say. "I try to live up to the example all of my teachers have given me, you included, father." A second look of shock crosses his face. "Wait, you? With me?" He wasn't aware that his father had actually fought in ages. He actually didn't recall Lonjiku fighting at all, save for perhaps throwing out a drunk who got too belligerent. "If you wish. Just don't push yourself too hard."
At your last comment, Lonjiku shakes his head and fixes you with an odd look. It has almost a touch of mischief, and for a moment you wonder if Ameiko doesn't get hers honestly. His eyes are certainly surprising in their intensity and eagerness.
"This old man isn't so old just yet that he can't handle a journey into the swamps. If you worry about anyone, worry that I don't push you too hard, my son. I've traveled greater distances than even you in my time, even if these recent years have seen me resting here."
With a sigh, his tone turns serious again, and your father grips your shoulders. His hands are gnarled from long years of hard work, but hardened by the same; his fingers are firm and strong, far from the brittle bones of the aged. "Rest well tonight, and prepare yourself in the morning, Haruto. Tomorrow will be a momentous day." He pats your shoulders briskly, and heads for the stairs himself, apparently readying to follow his own advice.
Haruto can't help a chuckle at his father's eagerness. Perhaps he had a bit of an adventurous side that had settled down in his later years. "Don't count me out just yet. I can more than handle myself." The monk smiles and nods. "I'll be up with the sun. Good night." He can't help pausing for a moment at Lonjiku's last words. For a moment, he wonders if there's more to this ship than his father lets on. Perhaps he knows something more than he's saying.
You watch as your father walks up the stairs, sturdy legs bearing him up one deliberate step at a time. Whatever secrets he might keep remain hidden that night, as he bids you good rest and retires to his room. You have only your own thoughts as company in the darkness, until sleep takes you.
- - - - -
Dawn comes too soon, perhaps, but finds you awake and readying for the day. By the time you enter the main room downstairs, Lonjiku himself is already there, with a small, hardy breakfast of rice, eggs, and fresh fish prepared in two steaming bowls. Lonjiku is standing by the table, apparently adjusting his equipment.
You've never before seen your father so dressed, or even seen the armor he wears in your memory. The bulk of it is something like an armored coat, covering his torso to the shoulders, with a sectioned skirt hanging to mid-thigh. The whole thing appears made from countless lacquered leather pieces, woven with cord into numerous plates making up the cuirass and skirts. Beneath it he looks to be wearing some of his most traditional clothing, attire you've normally seen him wear only during rituals or training in the yard.
Sashed around his middle, Lonjiku wears the daisho normally displayed near the family's shrine in your common room upstairs. The blades are currently seated in much more plain hilts and scabbards, however, plain lacquered wood with many scratches and chips across the surface. A quiver rests beneath the small of his back, arrows extending past his hip; an unstrung bow rests against a nearby table, and your father is wiping a helmet with oil. He looks over as you approach, and nods with a smile. "Good, I was wondering if I might wake you myself. You are ready to leave? You prefer to fight without armor, yes?"
Haruto is no strange to rising with the sun. Training at the monastery began as soon as there was light enough to see in front of your own face, but somehow his father had still managed to wake before him. He wondered just how much about Lonjiku he was totally unaware of. Looking at his father dressed in Tian armor and carrying a blade much like his own at his hip made it feel like a total stranger was standing in front of him. "The sun is barely up," Haruto says, almost reflexively. "You simply managed to outrun even the heavens themselves." He shakes his head ruefully. "Ah, yes. It's easier to move properly without armor and I can reinforce my body with ki if I'm in danger." He quickly drops at the table and murmurs a brief thanks for the meal under his breath before he indulges. "I need little more than my sword and the clothes on my back. Shall we?"
"I outrun what I can, these days," Lonjiku responds with a smile. "Youth is not wasted on the young, but it is sorely missed with age." He raises his bowl and gives his own thanks to the heavens and your ancestors, and eats quickly with you, finishing shortly after you've eaten your own fill. "Food in our stomachs and the sun at our backs. Perhaps I will even outrun you today." He laughs and claps your shoulder, heading for the door. "Although it is doubtful, if I'm the only one wearing armor."
Outside, Sandpoint is still waking up; many of the craftspeople have begun their work, but other folk are still breakfasting and making ready for the day. You know that it won't be long after you depart that the rest of your family, and the other employees of the Dragon, will begin their own tasks. But for now, the town is quiet, with a gentle summer breeze warding off the growing heat, and dew still on the grass.
"It is not a far walk to the marsh, and from there, we should use... Perhaps the Old Fish Trail?" Your father shifts the weight of his pack, probably carrying basic supplies, food, and water, and shrugs. "If this ship is as old as it sounds, and just now found, it should be deep in the swamp, away from the newer trails the fishermen use. Probably beyond even the old paths."
After a moment's consideration, Lonjiku turns and sets off on the road, taking a lesiurely enough pace. Unless you ask questions or start conversation, he begins humming after a few seconds, turning to a full song, his voice pleasantly chanting in Minkaian to an old tune about a prince who spends a night among the forest spirits.
The rays of the early morning sun bring a sense of calm to Haruto as they depart from the town. The early sounds of the day's work just beginning were the same in virtually every small village. He had taken to listening to the sounds of the early morning when he performed his morning meditations, but it was satisfying to know all the locals again. "It must be somewhat close to the goblin village if the hunters could stumble upon it by chance while hunting goblins. Following the trail in that direction would be wise. Perhaps we should have asked the adventurers for better directions." It wasn't like his father to be uncertain. He had known something was strange, but now he was certain that Lonjiku knew more than he was saying. There was something more important to this trip than just removing a few skeletons. "I can't help wondering... I wonder just how old this ship is. I don't know any merchants who might ride a Tian ship other than my birth parents."
Lonjiku shrugs. "I am certain we can find it. Those young folk probably didn't cover much of their trail, especially on the way out. And maybe we can ask the goblins for directions, if we get lost?" He chuckles at his own humor, but it trails off as you make the comment on your parents. There is silence on the trail for some time, as Lonjiku seems to think through how he wants to respond.
After several minutes, he finally speaks, not turning to look at you. "Have you traveled into Brinestump before, my son? I did, once. Many years ago, after your parents disappeared. I searched along the trails, hoping I might find something. Even a scrap of wood, a strip of the sails caught in a tree. But along the whole fishing trail, I found nothing but goblins. I thought to venture deeper, but I did not know if there was anything even to be found. And the further I went, the more goblins there were. This was not long before they made the new trail, to avoid them. And by then, I knew my duty was with you, with family."
Lonjiku pauses again, and looks at you. "I had all but lost hope of finding anything. And now, so many years later, I find out how close I must have been. I do not know if this ship is the one your parents took, but I know in my heart it will have answers. Answers we must learn."
Haruto chuckles at Lonjiku's joke. "They're not terribly bright. Perhaps you could imitate a bugbear if we cover you in some leaves. I'm sure they'd be happy to help then." The moment of levity seems to end almost instantly as his father seriously considers his question. He says nothing for a few long moments. "You truly believe that this could be my parents' ship? I thought they were lost at sea." The realization that they might be walking straight for his birth parents' grave makes him clench his fists. "Then if it does have answers, all the more reason to succeed. It's personal now. Perhaps... we should bring the skeletons back for a proper burial, if we can."
Your father shakes his head at your question. "I do not know. There were great storms when they sailed, visible even from Sandpoint over the ocean. We only know they never arrived, not where the ship was lost. But as you said: Who but they would take a ship guarded after death by a Tien warrior, wielding a Tien weapon? Even most of the travelers who have come to this side of the world do not still carry katana, wakizashi, any weapons of their homeland. It is enough to give me hope and belief that we will find something."
Lonjiku tightens the straps of his armor as you round a bend on the Coast Road, nodding to a pair of Sandpoint's guards on patrol as you pass. He also nods at your final statements. "I agree. We should do what we can to give them an honorable rest. I know the funerary prayers well; we can offer them at the ship, and bring the remains we can to the cathedral for burial."
As your conversation winds down, you find yourselves atop the high cliff that borders Brinestump Marsh. Forty feet below, the mire awaits, and the tops of the trees are yet beneath you. An old marker for the Old Fish Trail is set at the top of a path descending down the cliff, winding its way down to the swamp. Lonjiku pauses and strings his bow, performing the act in a smooth, practiced motion. Laying an arrow to the string once before replacing it in the quiver, he turns to you and gestures. "Are you ready to find what we may find?"
Haruto is silent a few moments longer. "Then let us put them to rest and final give them the burial they deserve. No one should be left to rot, forgotten in a swamp full of goblins and flies." He nods to the passing guards as well and picks up the pace a bit as they approach the edge of the swamp. "I will not be deterred. Allow me to take the lead. I'll make sure there's nothing unpleasant waiting for us ahead." The martial artist disappears into the swamp a bit ahead of his father, keeping his eyes open and his head down in case of trouble.
Lonjiku nods, allowing you to lead the way. He keeps his bow in hand as the two of you make your way down the swamp path, into the thick of Brinestump Marsh. You have traveled to many locales in Varisia over the past several years, ranging from the arid wastes of the Storval Plateau to the wild forests and grasslands of the lower regions. But nowhere you have explored was quite like the senses you feel here in Brinestump.
The air is thick and hot and terribly humid, even with the thick foliage above that keeps out so much of the sun. That dim lighting makes every shadow deeper, every threat more difficult to perceive, and accentuates the already constant sounds around you. The water here is all but stagnant, and only the few streams flow and burble; most of the noise is that of wildlife, primarily buzzing insects that swarm the air, and the occasional bird that preys on them.
Still, the going itself is easy enough, and in your light attire, the heat is far from overwhelming. You slip into the undergrowth just off the path, hoping to move unseen and unheard as you press deeper into the swamp. Lonjiku follows behind, some fifteen or twenty paces back; he walks slowly to match your stealthy pace, and always seems to be casting his gaze about as you move forward.
Eventually, however, you come to a final turn in the trail, and see what looks to be a ramshackle village in the distance. It is clearly the work of goblins, judging by the size and poor craftsmanship; furthermore, the gate is damaged beyond easy repair, one door torn free and the other hanging by a sorry strip of cloth or leather. A scant breeze from the village's direction carries the scent of carrion and charred corpses, and you think you might see some smoke from within the poorly-made palisade at the village's edge. The handiwork of the adventurers, most likely.
The humidity in the air is almost choking, even worse than the ashen air of the Cinderlands. Haruto had no idea how a coastal bog could be this unpleasant, but he would be quite pleased when they had recovered the bodies and put them to rest someplace less awful. He pulls his wraps tight around his arms and wraps his scarf a little tighter to ward off any particularly thirsty insects as he picks his way through the marsh. At least the sodden trails aren't any harder to navigate than the other wilds he'd explored.
As the scent of actual smoke fills the air, he stops and murmurs a few words under his breath in archaic Tien, linking his voice to his father from a distance with a simple message. "The goblin village is ahead," he whispers into the spell. "It seems the last group through did quite a number on them. Keep your distance while we try to pick up their trail toward the ship."
Lonjiku pauses as he hears your whisper, and you see him step just off the trail. The light growth at the path's edges do little to hide him, but it at least makes him less obvious. "Agreed. Let me know when I am clear to follow you, or move around the village to rejoin you. And call me if you get into trouble."
Creeping closer to the village's edge, you glance around, looking for signs of the adventurers' passage. It takes some time, but you eventually spy a booted footprint in a patch of thick dirt, clearly larger than a goblin's track. The print leads into the village, but you don't see any other signs of their passage from your position here. Tracking the group into the village directly would be the easiest method, you know, but any remaining goblins might see you, with nothing to hide behind while investigating. You could also try navigating around the village, and pick up their trail from when they left it, but that might be more difficult.
Haruto considers his options for a few moments. While the goblins were likely already too battered and beaten to be much of a problem if they simply stormed through the village, it seemed like a waste of time and effort to kick the foolish creatures while they were already down. "I'm going to circle the village from a distance and find where their trail leaves it. I'll signal when I find it." The monk keeps a bit of space between him and the village, using the trees to cover his movement as he searches for the last group's trail deeper into the swamp.
Deciding that even a battered goblin village is still more trouble than it's worth to pass through. Lonjiku whispers back his assent and comes to a halt a few yards from the village's edge, still crouching in the growth near the trail.
Your own movement takes you in a small berth around the rickety palisade, and you eventually come to a section where the makeshift defense gives way to undergrowth and a small pool. In the dirt and fallen leaves and sticks, you have to look closely for any sign of the adventurers, or anyone else's passage, for that matter. But after a time, your eyes fall on a small shape out of place in the brush, and investigation uncovers a small glass vial, the sort in which Sandpoint's apothecary sells his potions. Not far from there you find another bootprint, leading off towards the northwest. The trail isn't cold just yet, and you continue along it, Lonjiku following behind once you signal.
Traveling is slower now, as you have to pause and look for tracks, as well as push through the dense growth of the untamed swamp. The sun is high in the sky when you glimpse it through the trees, and the swamp is growing more stiflingly hot with each passing minute. But eventually, you spy a larger shape through the trees, and slowing as you approach, you realize it's a massive construction of wood. The whole thing is rotted and covered in moss and vines, and it's very clearly damaged beyond repair. But it's also clearly a sizable ship, made for travel rather than fishing, like the boats of Sandpoint. You can't make out much of the structure from where you are, nor do you see an entrance, but somehow you know that this is what you've been looking for.
Haruto kneels next to the boot prints. He silently thanks the gods that it hadn't rained in the marshes over night and wiped the trail away. "The trail is on the far side, near a pool. You'll see it if you circle around." Haruto stands once his father sends his reply and keeps moving ahead, following the rather obvious trail through the mud and undergrowth. It seems that the swamp itself is trying to impede their progress as they keep moving, with the foliage growing across their makeshift trail and the sweltering heat pressing down on them as they make their way deeper into the marsh.
The sight of the rotting hulk appearing through the branches almost immediately drives any concerns for the condition of the swamp from his mind. "This has seen better days," Haruto deadpans, trying to lighten the oppressive, somber feeling of the long wrecked ship lingering over them. "The way they described it, there should be a way in somewhere. Perhaps the hull is breached somewhere. We should stay close together. No telling how many undead there are."
Once you've come to a stop to view the ship, Lonjiku is able to catch up, and he squats next to you. Your father's face is locked steady, but you can almost feel the emotion welling up in him. "After so many years," he murmurs, for once speaking without careful thought. He finally shakes his head and looks at you, nodding. "It should have been a fine ship, once, made for comfortable travel between ports. Now I fear it is little more than a grave."
The vessel itself sits in something of a clearing, the ground
covered in standing water with moss, algae, lilypads, and general scum across the surface--and probably more than a handful of wildlife dwelling within. All around, though, the foliage is still thick, and you move between trees and brush to keep some distance as you examine the ship, your father keeping some distance again so you can move with more stealth.
Circling the ship gives you a better sense of the structure as a whole, and reveals that it is even more damaged than the first sight suggested. The whole ship leans precariously to one side; the railing on the edge near the ground is perhaps a foot or two from the surface of the water, and you could probably climb aboard if you swam to the right spot. The masts and rigging are all missing, rotted away or broken off before the ship came to rest here. The whole thing is badly weathered and rotted away, and looks like it might be precarious at best should you enter.
DC 20 Additional Info
Moving to the opposite side, you can see the largest factors of the ship's current resting place. A large boulder and thick, rotted stump, quite near one another, rise to a large, jagged hole in the ship's hull. Apparently, the ship crashed into them as it came to this location; there's even a long strip of slightly raised moss and dirt that suggests the remains of the fallen tree. Thankfully, you shouldn't have to do more than wade through very shallow water should you wish to enter through that hole, and not even that if you step with care and grace.
Dangling from a spot near the railing above the hole is a weathered bronze nameplate. It's been marked heavily with age, but it remains intact enough that you can make out the ship's name if you look closely: The Kaijitsu Blossom.
Haruto remains silent and still for a few long moments, watching the silent hulk for what feels like hours before he shakes his head. "A poor grave for good people. We shall not let it remain so for much longer." He picks his steps carefully, circling the ship and watching the wreck for any signs of movement as they draw closer. "It looks like that is our way in." He points to the massive hole in the side of the hull. "Let's be careful. If the defenders are as active as the last group that was here suggested, I'm sure we'll find the dead soon enough." He steps into the shallows, making his way to the shadowy gap in the wood.
"Indeed," Lonjiku responds. He takes a quick moment to unstring his bow, apparently deciding that it won't be needed for this part of the journey. As he finishes, you step up to the stone and stump, and easily climb and leap toward the entrance in the ship's battered hull.
Even as you approach, however, you hear a curious sound within, and a moment later, a bony hand grasps the hole from the inside. In a moment, the hand's owner follows, and a skeleton in Minkaian armor climbs through the hole, to stand atop the boulder itself. The armor is worn and rusted, and hangs limply from the undead's unnaturally lean frame, but the sword it draws a moment later is untarnished by time. The blade shines even in the dim light filtering through the trees, and you can immediately see the fine craftsmanship of this wakizashi. The skeleton's jaw works up and down, producing no sound but the clack as its teeth come together.
Behind you, Lonjiku breathes in sharply, and if you look at him, he is bowing, looking almost as if he is about to collapse to his knees. You know your father well enough to guess that he is not merely caught off-guard by the skeleton's sudden appearance; something more is at play here, something you would guess is personally troubling.
Haruto clenches his jaw as he hears the sound of something moving within the ship and the skeleton emerges, just as the last group to find the wreck told. The armor is a familiar style, though he doesn't recognize the particular make. He was too young when his parents passed to remember any of their associates, but Lonjiku's sudden shudder suggests that he remembers them all too well. His eyes narrow as the skeleton's jaw clacks and it raises its weapon. "Very well. I shall put you to rest." He slides smoothly into his stance and gestures for the skeleton to come at him.
You square off against the skeleton, which allows you to enter your fighting stance as it takes its own. The sword comes up in a ready posture as its feet shift, and you square off against it atop the stone, each daring the other to make the first move, wondering who will gain the advantage.
Reading an undead opponent is difficult--they do not have the expressions of a living foe, do not betray their thoughts with subtle motions of the eyes or catching of the breath. But this skeleton is clearly more than a mindless fiend, and it seems prepared to fight more like a human. So when you see its feet shift again, and the sword wavers ever so slightly, you see your opening, and know that it is time to seize the moment and strike!
Haruto lets his breathing fall into a familiar rhythm and the noise of the swamp seems to fade into the background as he focuses on his undead foe. The expressionless skull seems to leer back at him for a moment before he sees the shift of the blade and the shuffle of its feet. With a single lunge, he bursts forward, his hand forming a claw as he batters the bones mercilessly. Long hours of toughening his hands on all manner of foes made it a simple prospect to hammer at the undead creature's armor.
Your first strike is swift and powerful, and your hand collides heavily with the tattered remains of the skeleton's armor. One rusty plate buckles and you're sure you felt a rib crack underneath, but the fight is not over yet, merely begun.
The skeleton braces after your attack, planting one foot behind it and shifting on the rock slightly, maintaining its position. One clawed hand swipes at the air, but it's only a distraction, and the true attack comes from the wakizashi, arcing in toward your belly. It's a skillful maneuver, and a strike you suspect is not taught to beginners of swordplay, but you are once more quicker than your foe. The blade catches not even the cloth of your shirt as you twist back, and once more you square off, searching for the opening that will allow you to strike.
Haruto clicks his tongue once as he dances back away from the skeleton's strike. While it's arms were certainly a clue, this one was clearly a warrior of skill in life. In better circumstances, he would have liked to have met the man he once was. He lashes out with one knee, trying to step into the skeleton's guard before he delivers a brutal blow with his hand again.
As your battle continues, you see the skeleton's sword prepare for a slash, and in that moment you make your own attack. The first strike is a powerful blow from your knee, and you feel the skeleton's armor give against the strike, but it seems mostly unfazed. Your hand, though, finds purchase once more, slamming hard into one shoulder. The plate there tears free from the force of the punch, and the crunch of bone is audible beneath the squeal of the armor.
But the effort of your attack leaves you off-balance, and when your foe takes its own step, you find yourself without solid purchase atop the stone. Your tumble into the water and mud at the base of the stone is graceful as it can be, and you land on your feet, but it still leaves you at an awkward position to dodge or defend yourself as the skeleton strikes, leaping down with the wakizashi flashing. Once more, though, the attack is too slow, and it passes to one side as you're able to pull one foot free from the muck. The battle must continue, though the footing has changed.
Haruto grits his teeth as he tumbles down from the rock and finds himself ankle deep in mud and stagnant water. He was starting to remember why he'd always hated adventuring in Brinestump. Regardless, he elects a slightly different approach from his less advantageous position. He steps away and his hand flashes with focused ki. Two missiles of energy hurtle forward, slamming into the skeleton.
Although your first dodge from the skeleton was deft enough, you stumble as you attempt to move further away, your foot catching on a root in the mud. The movement leaves you open to an attack, and the skeleton's blade slices in. It mostly just slashes your clothes as you throw yourself forward, but the tip draws a thin line across your back, and you feel the hot sting as blood wells up.
You've broken from the immediate engagement, however, and that gives you enough time to focus and channel your ki into a pair of powerful blasts. Unerring, they arc forward and slam into the skeleton's chest, rocking its body back in quick succession. It seems about to lose its footing for a moment, but then it plants a foot in the muck and stands strong once more, bringing its arms in a motion you recognize from your martial training: a refocusing, a last attempt at maintaining a position of strength in a battle. Your enemy is on its last legs, but that doesn't make it any less dangerous.
As if to make that point clearer, it dashes forward, thin lets propelling it through the muck at what speed it can muster. It attempts a similar feint to its first attack, the hand distracting while the wakizashi comes around, and although it changes the angle in a sudden motion, the technique is no more effective than the last time. You twist away, using a branch to support yourself as you bend backwards to avoid the sweeping blade.
Haruto grunts as the skeleton manages to get a strike in as he backs away through the muck and mud, but a single cut isn't about to slow him down. He lets the skeleton close the distance again, sacrificing it's position to try to rush him down. He dodges the last strike and aims to finish it with two more rapid strikes.
With its last extension, the skeleton is open for striking. You lash out with a decisive fist, and feel the crunch of metal and bone as your hand strikes the center of the skeleton's chest. Its mouth opens in apparent shock, and it staggers back in the mud. You can see the rusted plates crumbling from its armor, and the broken sternum is soon visible beneath. It drops to its knees in the swamp, the armor jangling, and looks up to you with defeat in the burning red light of its eyes.
"Tsutamu." Your father's voice cuts through the quiet of the battle's end. The skeleton turns to look at Lonjiku as he steps forward. It may be a trick of the odd light filtering through Brinestump's thick trees, but you see moisture welling in your father's eyes. He clenches and releases his fists, his arms trembling with effort, and heaves a deep breath before turning to you. "Tell him who you are. It will help, I think."
Haruto takes a deep breath as his fist smashes through the skeleton's long ruined armor and it finally loses the ability, and perhaps the will, to fight back. He draws back, watching the undead creature as it drops to its knees. "My name?" It's a rare sight to see his father so unsettled. He was always firm as a stone. "I am Haruto Amatatsu, and I am here to see all of you buried with honor, rather than left to rot here."
The skeleton remains kneeling as you speak, but it turns to face you once more. The burning red in its eyes fades slightly, simmering to a glow that is almost warm. After a long moment, however, it bows deeply, the skull coming almost to the surface of the brackish water. It raises its sword, not in violence, but in reverence, and you watch as its bony claws poke the pegs from the grip, allowing the worn wood to slide from the tang of the blade. It draws something from within that grip: a roll of parchment, which it gently holds up in one hand, toward Lonjiku. Your father bows and steps forward to take the offering, and then steps back once more.
The skeleton looks to you again, and shifts its position, adopting a more formal kneeling posture. It takes its blade in both hands, holding it before itself with the tip pointing towards its abdomen. The pose is one you recognize from old books and teachings from your youth: that of seppuku.
Haruto watches in silence as the skeleton hands over the tattered parchment to his father. He resists the urge to ask what it is immediately as the skeleton drops to its knees and takes a pose he hadn't believed he'd ever see in real life. Without a word, he draws his sword and steps behind the undead, positioning the blade to go between the vertebrae and take it's skull off in one strike.
Nearly in the moment that the skeleton brings its sword into its middle, sliding it up between the ribs, you slash down. The skull tumbles free easily, splashing into the swamp, the light already faded from its eyes. With a final motion, the skeleton's arms lift, raising the sword on both palms in a gesture of offering. As they rise above the shoulders, leaving the blade at the perfect height for you to take it, they lock in place, and move no more.
A long moment of silence fills the clearing, and then the sounds of nature are heard once more: buzzing insects, distant cries of birds. A thin sea breeze even blows through, rustling leaves and bringing the scent of salt water.
Lonjiku steps forward and places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing with affection. Pride beams in his wet eyes, and you see single tracks of tears down the swamp grime on his weathered face. "You did him great honor," he says. "And I believe that now, thanks to you, his soul is at peace. You would do him more honor yet by taking his sword."
He also hands you the roll of parchment. "I would read this, if you will allow me. But it is yours to read first, I think." With that, he steps back, adopting a watchful pose.
If you open the letter, you find it contains two separate writings, both in a fine hand and lettered in Minkaian. The first piece is much shorter than the second. The whole parchment is in fine condition, untouched by time.
that I was dead
already
I would have mourned
my loss of life.
We know now that the opening of the warding box was foolish. I have no anger for our lord and what he did, only anger for myself, that I did not properly think of the danger and prepare him. In secrets we find safety, but blindness leads to ruin. I know this now. We should not have kept our ward in darkness. It forced him to seek that which we should have made clear. It is with shame that I think of how we reacted--the words I spoke--and the way we hid the truth. I have apologized to my lord already. Now I voice my apology to the gods, the ancestors, and to you, in the hope you will find this message.
I left Brinewall two days ago, and I hope we left the danger behind us. I had hoped our many enemies had forgotten us, that they had given up the search for our lord and the contents of the box. But they have pursued us. The Storms which now assail us are no stranger to me, and you would know them from our father's stories. I do not believe we will survive long on this ocean, and I only hope our final deception will be enough to fool their wicked minds.
The box is not here. You need not look for it. I ensured it returned to Kortun's care, and that it would remain secreted in the third vault of Brinewall Castle. I pray it is obscured from our enemies' gaze, and my heart tells me that Shizuru will make it so. My lord and his wife also remained there, after I told him the truth of what he would face. They wished to die with honor, not allowing their enemies to hunt them down and slaughter them like beasts. I wish I had convinced them otherwise, but our lord made me proud with his honor and wisdom. If they ran, we would be pursued once more. But if they are found, and the box hidden, the Storms may finally cease.
Now, it falls to you, Lonjiku, and the heir you have hidden yet. Do not make the same errors as I made, as father made. Tell him the truth, raise him to know the secrecy and the reason why. The Storms pursue us now because they seek the warding box and the seal within. I do not know if they suspect a living heir. But I know that the longer we run, the longer they will chase. Destiny cannot be avoided; the time has come to stand and face our enemies.
I pray I will see you, but I know I will not live to tell you this myself. I hide this letter in the handle of my blade, where I know you will find it. It will survive; it is a fine sword, my Whispering Shrike. Even if I die on the sea, the winds will carry it to you, I know.
Honor in Service.
Kaijitsu Tsutamu
Sunday, 29 Desnus, 7294
Haruto falls silent at the dead man's final gesture, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on him as he takes the sword and fastens it to his hip. "Yes. He deserved that at least. It takes a rare man to continue to do his duty, even in death." After a moment, the young man unfolds the paper and reads over the two messages, one introspective and one of critical importance. "Father... what is this? The hidden heir... is that supposed to be me? What storm are they talking about? Who would go to such lengths to attack us?"
"May I see?" Lonjiku frowns at your words, and his voice is anxious and quick, very unlike his usual self. His hand trembles as he extends it, and nearly snatches the parchment from you if you offer. "I must read his final words. It sounds as though they have much to say."
Assuming you offer him the message, Lonjiku spends some time reading it, apparently in great depth and with repetition. As you watch, his shoulders tremble, and tears well in his eyes, eventually tracking more lines down his face. His breath remains even, although it grows deeper as time passes, from the shallow breathing of a calm man to the measured effort of one in distress.
Finally, he looks up to you, his hands rolling the paper with only a little effort. "My son... Haruto. I would tell you of this letter's meaning, and its importance. But not here. I will share what I may on the Coast Road, and the rest in our home, at the family shrine. Trust me when I say that what I must speak should be spoken there."