After facing Heston Straic’s would-be vigilantes, the characters are led by Brik, Skik, and Skak to the nearby Kobold Ghetto for an audience with a lesser kobold king, Koto Crag-Claw. It is always best to remain on the good side of a powerful kobold king, and
being known as the establishment where heroes stood up for kobolds against the racism of the Big Folk wouldn’t hurt Skirtal’s business either.
Brik leads the characters through the dark, cramped streets of the Kobold Ghetto. He carries a torch ahead of them, signaling to those kobolds nearby that the characters are with him. The characters must step sideways to pass through many of the alleys and side streets and duck to avoid bumping into hanging laundry and shop signs as they follow Brik. Skik and Skak walk behind the characters, keeping local beggars and pickpockets away from the group, while Brik points out traps in the streets meant to ensnare Big Folk.
DC 15 Wisdom (Perception)
check notices that each kobold on the streets of the Ghetto
stops what it is doing and watches the group pass. Brik
eventually brings them to a large building at the end of a
cramped alley.
Inside, Koto Crag-Claw sits upon a scrap metal throne flanked by a retinue of well-armed kobold guards. The sharp-eyed, contemplative king listens intently to one of his subjects as his hooked left hand errantly scratches his crowned pate. A lithe, blue-scaled kobold before the throne gesticulates to the king with great fervor, but stops mid-sentence when the characters enter. Koto waves the characters forward
as the blue kobold steps to the side. The king addresses the characters:
“Here they are, Kwarrel! The sellswords old Skirtal mentioned. And they look like proper slayers! Welcome to my court, friends of kobolds.”
Snorri nods to the king's words. He doesn't know how to address a king, and he's not even sure he likes the concept of a king, so he lets others - probably Croaker - to break the ice.
During the early part of the journey, Croaker seems a bit lost in thought. The ravenfolk mutters and mumbles to himself rehearsing a variety of different ways to break the ice with the kobold king. But he starts to notice the various glances and interest those they pass take in the group. The bright-eyes of kobold youth and elders alike sneaking a peek as Brik leads the winding way through the warrens of Zobeck's undercity.
Relishing the sudden attention, Croaker starts to wave and engage with people as he passes by.
"Blessing of the Scouring Wind upon you." He says to one young kobold. "Calipha the Scouring Wind and St. Helba stand united for justice and the protection of smaller folk." And of course the occasional plug for his employer. "Don't forget to stop by the Rampant Roach where Skirtal fights for the people and serves the best rat stew in Zobeck. Specials listed daily."
By the time he reaches the kings hall, Croaker is practically beaming at the crowds interest and the kings friendly greeting. He starts to speak, but instead turns to Griot, figuring the kobold might want to pay his respects first.
Khanol ignorantly follows the kobolds through the Kobold Ghetto. Then finally he reaches the audience with the king.
In reply to the king, the halfling puts his thumbs in his weapons' belt and rocks between his heels and balls of his feet, nonverbally saying, yeah. That's right. I'm a slayer.
Griot holds his snout high basking in the attention of all the kobolds along the way. Upon being greeted by the king, Griot bows low and speaks loudly. "Oh Dragon among Kings, the Heralds of St. Helba are honored to be in your magnanimous presence. We are indeed friends to kobolds in the spirit of our patron saint. We are here to root out corruption, call out injustice, and fight for the rights of the oppressed with all our might!"
"How may we be of service, Great King Koto Crag-Claw?"
The King overlooks the group gathered before him, nodding at their apparent respect and prowess.
He then stands and claps his hands with a broad smile... well his hand anyway. "Yes...Yes indeed. This is Kwarrell. He nods to the scout, who is roguishly clad with the harnesses and tools of a seasoned Trap springer. "And you probably have some idea of why I have summoned you".
"Brik's situation is a sign of a larger threat to Zobeck's kobold community. This isn't the first kidnapping, and I fear it won't be the last. Friends of Kobolds, I need your help freeing my people of these false accusations". He then nods to Kwarrell. "Kwarrell has more input".
The blue scaled kobold then takes over the conversation with a look of acknowledgement from his king.
"Several Big Folk have gone missing over the past few weeks, and kobold equipment and weapons have been found at the site of each disappearance. We sent scouts to check with the other kobold kings and gangs in the Ghetto. None of them were involved in the disappearances, though they blame each other. WE kobolds prefer to keep to ourselves and not make trouble with the Big Folk. Kidnapping Big Folk is trouble for all Kobolds".
The King then continues his speech. "We do not expect you to take on this task without reward. We can offer you 200gp as a group, and perhaps some minor magical items to sweeten the pot".
He then looks to the group for a response.
Griot smiles and bows. "You are most generous King Koto Crag-Claw. I think that I speak for us all when I say that it would be our duty and honor. We can start immediately. The sooner this mystery is solved, the sooner the threat to all kobolds will be resolved."
Khanol clears his throat and adds, "What my companion means to say is that we would love to help you and get paid to solve this mystery. But... we've already been engaged by Brik's uncle to protect him. We would need to ensure that Brik stays safe before doing anything for you, right?"
Snorri is about to say something when Khanol jumps in and says exactly what Snorri was thinking. He nods, smiles and crosses his arms.
What kind of reputation will they amass if they leave a job just like that?
"Ah. Honest as well as competent. I believe I can send a couple of individuals to replace Brik's chores until you find out what is going on. Then Brik can stay here under my protection until this matter is resolved. Do you have any further questions? How do you plan on proceeding"?
"A wise and generous decision on king. One worthy of the Calipha herself." Croaker says with a bright and wide smile. "It is such wisdom that the Scouring Wind looks for in her devotees."
With a feathered wave of his hand toward Griot and Khanol, Croaker shrugs off planning. "I'm sure my companions have plenty of clever and truly delightful ideas for bringing the true perpetrators of this injustice to justice." He says before turning a thoughtful look upon the king. "Tell me your majesty, have you ever considered the teachings of Calipha and the glorious St. Helba? I think they may offer much for your people and one so dedicated to the well being of his subjects." He adds gesturing toward any onlookers. "If we are successful in solving this mystery and returning your folk's good name perhaps we could speak more on Calipha's teachings and how they may benefit your kin?"
Griot steps ahead of the ranting ravenman. "Um, thanks for that, Croaker. But to answer your pithy question, Great King, we shall employ St. Helba's own Principles of Investigation. As you know, she is the patron of both liberators and investigators. We shall employ our keen senses of observation to obtain, develop, and substantiate information; process crime scenes; conduct interviews and interrogations; and conduct surveillance and undercover operations."
Griot pulls out a notebook and pencil and gathers his thoughts. "So far, we have been tethered by our duty to protect Brik, but your wise and generous offer will allow us to direct our full effort to unravel this mystery. We have investigated the location where Brik lost his dagger which later was found at the scene of the kidnapping. Likewise we have unsuccessfully attempted to work with both the Smith and the Watch, but they were uncooperative to say the least."
He taps the pencil on his snout. "You said that this was not an isolated incident so perhaps we should start by reviewing all these similar cases to see if any patterns appear."
"So it would seem someone is out to stir up resentments and old prejudices against your people?" Croaker says, his face looking thoughtful as he rubs his chin with his knuckle. He turns to Kwarrell and the king. "Who might benefit from the kobold's being driven from Zobeck? Has anyone mapped out the various disappearances to see if they are centered on a particular location? Are they all young women who have been taken?"
@ Croaker>> "I hear your words but have no idea what your are saying. If you can solve the mystery I will be more than happy to have someone listen to your words about St. Calba and Helipha".
"The disappearances have been from different areas, and both male and female. So far they have all been human. It is difficult to detect a common thread".
@Griot>>: "After speaking with several witnesses Kwarrell here tracked an unidentified cloaked Big Folk from the scene of the crime at the Turnyr girl's home to an odd section of catacombs beneath the Cartways".
He then turns to Kwarrell, and with a nod of affirmation addresses the group. "Kwarrell can escort you to where he saw the figure in the catacombs, and I've instructed him to wait until your return. The other Big Folk were taken once every two to three weeks. I'd say you have less than a week before another is kidnapped. For Brik's sake, I hope you find the blacksmiths daughter".
"I can pay you 100GP now, and the other 100 when you return. I'll also part with this". He hands over a set of finely crafted if a bit tarnished set of wind pipes. "Seems that Rats of all types seem to like the sound of them".
Griot scratches in his notepad. "Excellent, excellent. One question, your majesty." He pulls the bound pot from his pack and shakes it so that it rattles. "A strange talisman was found on our northern friend Snorri here. It is a small petrified bat with some sort of enchantment. He doesn't know where it came from, but found it in his pocket soon after we began our work protecting Brik."
"My arcane skills are still being developed and I could not figure out what it might be, but I find it suspicious and wonder if you might have a wizard in your service that could make a more thorough investigation."
"If Croaker had found it, I might not think twice, but Snorri doesn't seem to be the type to find a dead bat on his person and it could have been planted."
Sorry nods. "Yes. I gave it away, though, else I could show you."
He has his own ideas about who might want the kobolds out of Zobeck, but he keeps them to himself. After all, they're only opinions, and such ones that the kobold king might not be pleased.
Sorry nods. "Yes. I gave it away, though, else I could show you."
He has his own ideas about who might want the kobolds out of Zobeck, but he keeps them to himself. After all, they're only opinions, and such ones that the kobold king might not be pleased.
Snorri
Sorry nods. "Yes. I gave it away, though, else I could show you."
"Wait..." leaving one hand up, palm out, Snorri puts the other one into his pocket. When he takes it out, he has another petrified bat in his palm.
"What kind of witchcrat is this!"
Griot startles and quickly opens his pot to see if there is still a bat inside!
@Griot>>: "Wait! You are a wizard! I have need of a wizard, as my last six met unfortunate ends... but you seem to be made of sterner stuff. Perhaps if you survive this mission to absolve Brik there will be a place for you in my court. How does 'Royal Wizard' Sound to you"?
@Snorri>>:
@Croaker>>:
@Khanol>>: More a man of action than a man of talk you are eager to follow the scout deeper into the catacombs, and confront a challenge you can both see and kill.
Khanol wonders what is the significance of stuffed bats. He's seen people carry weirder stuff. He rocks back and forth heel to toe with his thumb's in his weapon's belt signalling that he is still baddest a$$ in this court at the moment.
Griot squints at his bat and peers at Snorri's with suspicion. The King's comments interrupt his contemplation. He closes his bat up in the pot and binds it again. "Ahem, your generosity knows no bounds, Oh King. I am not a true wizard though. My arcane studies are only in service to St Helba as I seek to follow in her footsteps. Surely you deserve a far more powerful wizard in your court. I will keep an eye out for one that I may recommend to you. But for now, we must regretfully leave your munificent presence and continue our investigation." Griot bows low and then follows behind Kwarrell.
Last six?!... Even Croaker's often scattered, wandering mind recognizes the suicidal connotations of those odds and quickly clams up. He beak slams closed faster than a copper pincher's coinpurse and the ravenkin follows Khanol and the scout out of the king's presence before his royal koboldness recognizes any arcane know how within the feathered warlock.
With the royal chambers disappearing behind him, Croaker can't help but ponder the rune he'd been thinking of back there in the king's hall. He flips through the tattered pages of his little book. With a click of his tongue he ponders the one he'd drawn a day or so ago. Indeed they were quite similar. But what does it mean old bird? He thinks. A sending from Calipha? She's never been so cryptic in the past? St. Helba perhaps? Or something to do with that alley.
He continues to mull things in his mind only paying enough attention to the rest of the world to make sure he doesn't lose sight of the others as Kwarrell leads them through the winding maze of the cartways.
Kwarrel leads the characters on the safest route he knows to the catacombs where he last saw the cloaked figure who fled the scene of Rozalyn Turnyr’s kidnapping.
The catacombs beneath Zobeck are dark and full of terrors. Kwarrel leaves the characters once they reach this dusty, grave-strewn realm, promising to wait nearby to escort them back once they’ve solved the mystery. Unless otherwise stated, the arched ceilings in this lightless area are 12 feet tall, and the doors are made of stone.
Several staggered sets of stairs journey deep into the structured subterranean realms below Zobeck. After descending roughly two hundred feet into the undercity, the 5-foot entrance corridor terminates at a dusty crypt hall lined with caskets.
The rank subterranean air smells of ancient rot. Sixteen wooden caskets are laid within massive alcove shelves lining the long walls of the hall to the east and west, stacked two high in rows of four. A narrow corridor on the opposite end of the hall continues toward a small antechamber before receding into darkness.
Khanol leads the companions with his shortsword in one hand and a lit torch in the other. He's hunted underground before, but never this deep. Never into crypts.
The winterfolk halfling pays close attention to his breathing the deeper he goes, feeling a bit like he's underwater, because he cannot see or imagine the sky above him anymore.
Sniffing the air Croaker nods knowingly. "The good old smell of death, reminds me of my own demise." He says to no one in particular before carrying his own torch over to the opening that appears to lead deeper into the cities unknown underbelly.
Griot appears at ease in the depths though he frowns at the torch momentarily before shrugging. "Not everyone can be fortunate enough to be born with excellent kobold senses," he mutters to himself.
He cinches up his shield and steps behind Khanol so that he doesn't end up staring at someone's butt. "Lead on, Khanol. Are you good at tracking? See any traces of the cloaked stranger that Kwarrell mentioned?"
Khanol leads the companions with his shortsword in one hand and a lit torch in the other. He's hunted underground before, but never this deep. Never into crypts.
The winterfolk halfling pays close attention to his breathing the deeper he goes, feeling a bit like he's underwater, because he cannot see or imagine the sky above him anymore.
** spoiler omitted **
@Khanol>>: Khanol asks the party to wait for a bit more as he finishes binding his wounds, and appears more than ready to descend. He leads the party deeper into the depths... deeper than he's ever been before.
@Griot>>: Griot follows closely on Khanol's trail as he leads them deeper into the catacombs.
@Croaker>>: Next is Croaker who mumbles to himself while peering about with his own torch.
@Snorri>>: Snorri brings up the rear, starting at every strange noise that penetrates the darkness as they pass.
DM Rolls
A
Perception DC9
You feel more than hear movement from somewhere near the third set of crypts, and a faint smell of rot assails your senses.
Survival DC13
A successful DC 13 Wisdom (Survival) check locates several sets of tracks, including a half dozen different ghouls and two humanoids.
Survival DC15
The latter two sets of tracks distinctly move toward the opening ahead and beyond, while the pattern of the ghoul tracks is erratic at best.
Croaker pokes Griot in the back with a bony finger and before the kobold can say anything points out the tracks of a half dozen ghouls and a pair of other humaniods.
While examining the tracks he tilts his head curiously and gazes over at the third set of crypts. "Anybody else have that tingling sensation of imminent danger?" He whispers blowing air out of his beak with a snort. "And what is that smell? I've smelled corpses before. Calipha's blood, I've even been one, but this is worse. Worse than Skirtal's rat pies even."
Khanol feels more than hears movement from somewhere near the third set of crypts, and a faint smell of rot assails his senses.
He waves his torch around to indicate a threat near the third set of crypts.
"What? Oh, are there tracks? All I smell is you, Croaker."
Snorri laments being able to see that far in the dark, for he fears he will get the first glimspe of possible monsters...
...then he realises mosters don't exist.
"The humanoid tracks actually lead there" Snorri says from the rear, pointing in the direction the footprints go to.
Griot pauses, waving away Croaker's stench and stretching his senses at the indicated crypts. "Oh wait, there is something there," he whispers.
All is silent at the moment. The odor seems to grow stronger, as you go deeper into the room... seemingly coming from slightly ahead and to the right.
Griot whispers a magical word and the sound of audible treads approach and pass around the suspect crypts.
Snorri presses a bit from the rearguard.
"Hey, let's advance a bit, shall we?"
Croaker moves forward toward the opening a few paces. As he does so, he nods his understanding of Griot's attempt to spook whatever lurks in the dark corners of the crypt.
Feathered fingers flick in several quick motions and the rattle of armor and unsheathing swords can suddenly be heard in the same area as Griot's conjured footsteps.
He then whistles three times softly as if sending a signal to those approaching on the far side of the crypt, while taking a step back to his original position.
At Croaker's whistle, Khanol slowly steps forward. Torch held up in his left hand, right hand holding his shortsword.
It felt like an ambush, that he had to trip.
The party creeps forward, alert and suspecting an ambush, but bravely deciding to proceed. They past the first row of coffins and... nothing. The coffins are covered in dust and cobwebs, and don't seem to have been disturbed for some time. While not opulent caskets, they obviously contain the remains of someone who was at least wealthy enough to make sure be buried here instead of potters field, or some out of the way plot on a farm.
They go past the second row of coffins, the click of their sturdy boots echoing in the vast chamber... and nothing.
Then they pass the suspicious third row of tombs... and... nothing. The smell of rot is overwhelming at this point. Has one of the coffins been sprung and perhaps the remains rotting? To the right everything looks the same... but on the left. These coffins have been disturbed. The dust is not as thick, and the cobwebs almost absent. Does something lurk in the darkness behind the coffin? If so it doesn't make it's presence known.
His sputtering torch sounds loud in the silence of the underground cavern. "These coffins have been disturbed. Is there any value in popping one of them open and inspecting? Or are we asking for trouble... well... more than normal?" Khanol asks his companions.
"Bah! Unless we here screams for help from inside one of them, best leave the dead be." Croaker says. His eyes dart back and forth as he moves further toward the opening. "Judging from the look of things, someone already got what they were looking for, else why not search the rest of the coffins? Unless they were just peeking for fun." He adds with a casual shrug like either idea is equally possible.
Griot waves in irritation at the torch. "I don't think there is anything of interest in the coffins, but I could see what's behind them much more clearly without all this light."
Khanol shrugs at the kobold and moves the torch to use his body to cast shadow on the area behind the coffins.
Griot Investigation DC12
It looks as though something has been climbing back and forth between the lower coffin and the upper one.
Griot Investigation DC18
There seems to be a slight opening as if it is a partially dislodged wooden panel behind the upper coffin. This seems to be where the smell of death is strongest.