Vexas follows the group out into the open and to the crowd.
Uh oh...
He begins flipping through his new spellbook.
Umm...
Oh, I guess I'll get use to preparing better. Venturing into the jungle versus hanging around town. Perhaps charm spells more often...
Harcourt's eyes widen for a moment, as if trapped with no where to run to. His eyes then shift to the right and his lips purse together. He stands there quiet for a few moments, then looks towards Brannart with a sly forming smirk. "What you say does make sense." His voice turns snooty as he raises his nose, " And a person in my standing deserves an estate outside of this colony proper. Away from the noise of these common folk." The horse breeder offers a pause as he clears his throat, " My apologies Luetin. The house is yours for you and your family. I do expect you to remember my generosity though, when it is time for metal work to be done on my new estate." He then looks at Brannart and Fenna before moving his gaze to the crowd. Then he uses both hands to straighten his clothing while he stiffens his back. Without another sound, we walks towards the pasture lands he has already claimed.
A few moments go by, then Luetin turns to Brannart. He sizes him up for a moment, but then offers a smile, "Don't know how to thank you for that. Maybe I can start by repairing that armor of yours." He offers a meaty hand in gratitude.
Vexas sheepishly nudges Brannart from the side and behind, muttering so that only he (and probably Fenna) can hear.
Uh, Luetin doesn't owe this clown anything. That wasn't generosity, it was a failed attempt at appropriation. He prods, hoping the more outspoken warrior will settle that point.
And this is how Fenna's attraction to Harcourt Carrolby died. He was still nice to look at, but the negatives piled up. She'd hoped for a better personality, but it was as bad as she expected. Besides, if he needs help figuring out living near a smithy would be noisy, there's no helping that kind of dumb.
Fenna had no big plans for the day. Probably some time practicing her rebec for a while. She still needed to work on it. She also decides to drop in on Lyra and see how she's doing. Fenna still likes the idea of a red-headed, half-elf tea circle: Lyra, Sho, and herself. It would be a tidy little club and they could all be best friends.
"We need the colonists to get along, and that may mean allowing a wealthy man to save face. If it were something more egregious, I might confront him.
But you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and all that.
Maybe someone can warn him very subtly and more quietly later not to try this again. Embarrassing him would not help.
And if Luetin only charges him the normal rate, and not double, then I'd call that generosity enough."
I could snap the arrogant snob in half. Throw my weight around and lay down the law. But then what kind of a man would I be?
Brannart shakes the blacksmith's hand, and starts unbuckling his armor as he walks to the forge.
"That would be appreciated, Luetin. This probably won't be the last time, but better the armor take the beating than any of us, right?"
But you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and all that.
Malakar cocks his head in confusion.
"Vinegar would be much more effective at catching flies. It smells similar to putrid flesh and waste which is what they eat."
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"I'm no Druid, but I think there are many kinds of flies."
Fenna finds Lyra reviewing maps in a Government House office. As usual, her strawberry blonde hair is tied into a ponytail. With her hair up, her elven heritage is truly pronounced with high cheekbones and extended, pointed ears. When Fenna enters the office, the Surveyor looks up with her sparkling blue-green eyes and offers a smile. “Ah, one of my heroes is here to save me again,” she says jovially ending with a soft laugh. ”Seems you have arrived just in time.” She turns the map on the desk that she was pouring over to allow Fenna a better view. Much of the parchment is blank. It appears that Lyra is working from the colony outward and slowly filling in the blanks as the island is mapped. So far only a mile or so radius from the colony has any significant mapping detail. ”From what I understand, you and your other hero friends have traveled far into the island and discovered some Azlanti ruins and some type of magical projection. Do you think you could offer a rough estimate where that might be from what I have already surveyed. Do you think it might be somewhere around here?” With a finger she circles a spot of empty parchment which has yet to be mapped. ”Ramona has yet to give permission to travel this deep into the island. I think she is hoping that you and your companions will figure out what happened to the other colonists. Once that mystery is solved, I think a deeper survey will be approved, and I am attempting to get a layout of the island and where I want to adventure next.”
Brannart looks over his smooth, polished armor and cannot believe it is the same piece of metal he has been wearing for years. Luetin did some excellent work in reshaping and making the necessary repairs. While Brannart is admiring the work, Kurvis Nurpico, the priest of Abadar serving the colony as a spiritual advisor and criminal judge, approaches the veteran and his remaining companions. He speaks formally and stiff, ”I thought this would be important for you to know. Eamon and I were able to communicate with the poltergeist you encountered in the Chapel. His name was Silas Weatherbee. He told us that the colonists started acting strangely and when he confronted Rayland Arkley about the matter, Arkley attacked him. The poltergeist is unable to convey more information than this, but it will continue to haunt the colony until it is told why his friend Arkley tried to kill him.”
"Hi there Lyra, how's Milo?" Fenna asks.
Fenna leans over the table to study the map.
"Hm, I'll do my best...", which she does, pointing out her approximation of where the illusion producing place was.
"You'll really want to check that with Malaker or Sho though. They do most all of the navigating and I just follow along. If you have to choose between what I say and what either of them say, go with them" Feena tells Lyra with a grin.
"Say, would you like to come over for tea sometime soon? I was thinking of having both you and Sho over as well and you could bring this map and get a second opinion."
"I've been thinking, we're all half elven, we all have red hair, more or less" (Fenna must concede her own is really more auburn than red) "we're all women..." (the idea sounds lamer out loud than in her head) "I figure we've some things in common... a couple of things. Um, it's a start?"
Lyra answers with an emphatic, "Yes! . . That would be great. Then Sho and I could review the map. Uh ... and yes, tea sounds good too."
After a restful night and filling breakfast, Malakar and Sho lead the way to where they first found the odd trail. After crossing a river, the trail is found looking relatively the same, if not a few days older, with animal tracks compressing the soil in spots, smoothing out some of the uniform minute depressions that were left in the ground.
Brannart looks over his smooth, polished armor and cannot believe it is the same piece of metal he has been wearing for years. Luetin did some excellent work in reshaping and making the necessary repairs. While Brannart is admiring the work, Kurvis Nurpico, the priest of Abadar serving the colony as a spiritual advisor and criminal judge, approaches the veteran and his remaining companions. He speaks formally and stiff, ”I thought this would be important for you to know. Eamon and I were able to communicate with the poltergeist you encountered in the Chapel. His name was Silas Weatherbee. He told us that the colonists started acting strangely and when he confronted Rayland Arkley about the matter, Arkley attacked him. The poltergeist is unable to convey more information than this, but it will continue to haunt the colony until it is told why his friend Arkley tried to kill him.”
Brannart thanks the blacksmith for his work.
He is concerned at the priest's words.
"Thank you, sir. I know that some priests of Abadar are titled 'Banker' and others 'Enumerator' - how should I address you?
We will continue to investigate, and when we know what is going on, we will bring our information to you and Eamon. I hope that we have information very soon, so that Silas does not trouble the colonists much.
I don't know what could have driven Arkley to such behavior. Some madness? Magical control? Or was he corrupt and malicious all along? I will find out what I can."
"Great! We'll be away tomorrow, but maybe the day after? I'll arrange things with Sho and get back to you when we return."
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Fenna wasn't joking around with Lyra. She takes her usual middling place in line and waits for a tracker to take charge of plotting the journey.
Malakar is ready.
Kurvis offers the slightest hint of a smile when Brannart inquires about the proper title to use, ”I have not attained the Title of Banker yet. Once this colony establishes itself as truly civilized and a Temple to Abadar the Gold-Fisted is built, I will take on that title. That is, if I have not aged too long and made my way to the Great Vault first. For now, being that I serve as Judge for the colony in times of disputes and crime, you may refer to me as Arbiter, if you like.” Arbiter Nurpico nods at Brannart’s assertion of the situation. ”I am sure if Rayland Arkley is found alive, we will find the reasons behind his actions, and by The Judge of the Gods, justice will be served. I wish you well, Brannart of Almas.”
___________________________________________________________________________ ______
The trail, once again, leads back to the beach where it disappears into the water.
Brannart moves in front of his companions drawing his polearm.
"Malakar, do you know what those are?"
Brannart doesn't know (has neither skill trained), but he senses they might be hostile. He readies to attack if one comes within reach.
"Indeed they are Skum and they are evil." Malakar frowns while drawing his sword and shield.
Malakar will move to the front of the group and take a Total defense (+4 dodge to ac bringing me to 23) waiting for the Skum to get into melee.
"Um, what's up guys? Why did we stop here?"
Fenna follows Sho's arrow as it flies true into the amphibious humanoid. The beast releases a wail, and finally the Bard sees four humanoids coming out of the water with tridents in their hands. They appear to have features of both fish and frogs.
"So we've decided they're unfriendlies then?"
Fenna hoists her spear to readiness but otherwise waits.
"What's the plan?"
"I'll block the enemy if you want to open fire like Sho did. Or you can join me on the front with your spear if you wish."
Vexas reflexively draws his crossbow.
Oh wait... I have spells now too!
With Sho revealing her superior marksmanship, the Skum spring out of the water and run toward a good-sized rock on the beach. Their slow, hunchback movement on land gives them an awkward-looking gait.
Fenna nods. She rarely even thinks about her bow, and hadn't in this case either. It takes her a moment to find lean her spear against a tree and switch over. When she's made the transition she takes a shot at the fish person she can see best , not really expecting much to come of it.
Fenna's lack of training with her bow really shows as the arrow misfires to her left and lodges into the sand thirty feet from her.
Beware of those slots in their cover. They have something like a crossbow attached to themselves to shoot through them!
In earnest, he reloads his crossbow and sends a bolt across the beach.
Malakar will move 20' and than continue his total defense for 24 AC.
Brannart will keep pace with Malakar and also use Total Defense for a 22 AC (plus possibly cover).
Vexas's bolt finds it mark and the creature scrambles closer to the rock for protection.
The Skum move from behind the rock, sill using the granite to provide some cover. Each carries a trident in one hand while wielding a hand crossbow in the other. With Brannart and Malakar approaching, the frog-like humanoids aim and fire bolts at the warriors. While the bolts aimed at Malakar fall far short by lodging into the sand well in front of him, one bolt manages to sneak past Brannart's defenses and catches him in the gut. His armor slows the impact of the missile, but the veteran feels the point puncture his abdomen.
Vexas slinks up behind Malakar and Brannart. He eyes each of them and gauges the breadth of their bodies to shield him from further bolts.
Brannart moves up and stabs at a wounded Skum with his ranseur.
He also prepares to skewer the skum's allies if they try to close for melee.
Sho's arrow flies true and rips into one of the Scum while Brannart moves ahead with his polearm. The veteran calls upon all his strength and strikes out as if Cayden's Ale is running through his veins. The ranseur pierces into the beast's frog-like face and on the withdraw one of the side-blades digs deep into its neck. There is a spray of blood and the creature drops to the ground, the sand slowly drinking its life away.
Fenna puts away her bow after such an embarrassing earlier demonstration. She advances up to cover Vexas and begins to encourage everyone with her words.
Malakar advances keeping himself in between the foes and his allies and resumes his total defense.
The Skum nearest Brannart clambers over the smaller rocks. When it gets closer it throws its trident as it spats something harsh. The three-pronged spear tears into the veteran, puncturing his armor and stabbing into his chest.
The other two Skum move closer to Malakar and launch their tridents. The Druid blocks the first one, but he is unable to stop both, as the second trident rips into his thigh. Malakar feels his leg give and he almost stumbles.
Brannart strikes back at the Skum, then drops his ranseur, draws his longsword, and steps closer.
With his ranseur, then his longsword, Brannart finishes off the Skum in front of him.
With the tide turning, Vexas takes aim at the remaining loathsome creatures.
He loses his grip on the crossbow and sends the bolt into the ocean!