Erastil and nature are the main religions.
The four catfolk that will be your guides seem like capable hunters and they greet you as their names are said.
To Quinces other questions they don't have any answers.
The chief nods to Quince as they walk and he replies, "Nothing is as you have said wrong with us and Varnhold. It is the centaurs you will have to give justice."
---
The next morning finds you all rested and ready for a day of travel. The catfolk wave as your group leaves the camp.
Quince nods, "Have you heard what might have transpired? Your words move about my own fears."
"Let's head out."
"It isn't unlikely the natives have been displaced but those of Varnhold. Given what was found." Cleonora pointed out.
"Of course, what are your thoughts?" She asked as they made ready to depart.
No, they did not even know the people of Varnhold had vanished.
"Let us see where they take us."
"Of course, what are your thoughts?" She asked as they made ready to depart.
Quince let out sigh. "Allies are a boon." He winced, "I wonder how many . . . things that shouldn't be skinned went through the tanner."
"Too late to wonder about that. The sooner we can find more clues about what happened the better. The centaurs may have being the first to note the disappearance and taken advantage first."
"We shall see. I hope they know something. I see our time here being a longer endeavor."
"What shall we do, the guides could ride double on our elk and we could move fast, or travel at a walk?" He asks not knowing the wishes of those around him.
"Let's double up and get to our goal. If it doesn't turn up answers. We will return to Varnhold and start a longer survey of the land. To see what we can learn."
The group likely doubles up and quickly 'jaunts' the two or three day ride in hours. As you approach the grotto you see in the East a large encampment. Tents and camp fires. A good 500 feet away easily if not more.
Lykàn Makes a count of the tents.
"How big is this tribe?"
A war party of centaurs soon heads in your direction. This tribe is very big in comparison to the catfolk. The catfolk numbered around 40, as to the buildings there could be 200 or more centaurs.
One of the centaurs speaks in Slyvan in a hoarse guttural feminine tone, "Who are you and why have you come this close to our tribe."
Although they speak Common, they do so relatively poorly
and prefer to speak in Sylvan. the PCs and gauge their responses to the
threatening display.
The camp itself sits in a low hillock surrounded by a sea of grass. A large
bonfire dominates the center of the camp, around which
more of the horsewomen dance in a primal rhythm
long lost to the civilized soul. A scattering of open-
sided hide huts numbering no more than five score are
ranged around the hollow, inside which other members
of this tribe congregate, eat, or sleep. Everywhere, the
heavily armed and armored centaurs sharpen weapons,
tend to gear, or walk patrols, all with a feral economy of
movement and sound. These are the true inheritors of
an age long gone when the steppes rang to the thunder
of their herds and the fury of their war cries, while the
first inklings of civilization clung to shorelines and
riverbanks like children to their mothers’ skirts—afraid
of the dark wilderness and its wild masters.
Quince raises a white flag as they come in sight of the tribe.
Quince greets them and responds kindly in Sylvan, "I am Quince Medvyed of the Greenwatch to the west. We have come in peace. We did not mean to intrude or to alarm you. We seek knowledge. Our guides, Sabine, Treailian, and Elk Heart, sent by the chieftain, of the catfolk who sometimes travel these lands. Have brought us here to speak with you."
As the centaurs approach, Dinenen lifts his right hand, palm forward, to shoulder height, and waits for the noble to address them, as he seems to like to do.
Lykàn stays silent as he observes the actions of the centaurs, he shows no indication that he understands the language they speak. He does note that they are all females...
The centaur that was speaking continues, "Oh... well... Mother Moon will want to see you. Come and keep your weapons sheathed."
-----
The camp itself sits in a low hillock surrounded by a sea of grass. A large bonfire dominates the center of the camp, around which more of the horsewomen dance in a primal rhythm long lost to the civilized soul. A scattering of open- sided hide huts numbering no more than five score are ranged around the hollow, inside which other members of this tribe congregate, eat, or sleep. Everywhere, the heavily armed and armored centaurs sharpen weapons, tend to gear, or walk patrols, all with a feral economy of movement and sound. These are the true inheritors of an age long gone when the steppes rang to the thunder of their herds and the fury of their war cries, while the first inklings of civilization clung to shorelines and riverbanks like children to their mothers’ skirts—afraid of the dark wilderness and its wild masters.
St. John waits at Quince's side, sword sheathed but ready for any trouble.
Quince looks to the others "Keep weapons sheathed. We are meeting Mother Moon."
The red haired elf follows silently behind.
"You know, in a world where magic is openly available you'd think people would be more worried about those who don't carry openly noticeable weapons."
"It isn't fear or a lack of caution. It is a request for a simple display of respect and deference. Politeness exists outside of what we call civilization. Following the forms means more than practicing martial arts."
The centaurs lead you to one of the tents erected near the large bonfire. The Nomen escort tells you to explain to the war-priestess why they encroached upon the Nomens’ lands.
long embittered by the violent territorial expansion of
humans, but she is possessed of enough wisdom to know
that trespassers are not always the enemy.
She is initially
silent as the PCs’ Her initial attitude is unfriendly, and unless they
can make her helpful with a DC 34 Diplomacy check, she
has little patience for the visitors. Yet she can still see
their need for advice, and the vanishing at
Varnhold does disturb her. Even though the
Nomens were no allies of Varnhold, what
happened to the human village could happen
to her tribe next. Thus, if the PCs are unable to
make her helpful, she presents
them with an opportunity
to prove their worth to
her—she asks them
to seek out the Culchek spriggans and return with an
important magical bow the monsters stole from her people
several years ago. Aecora can give the PCs directions to the
Culcheck cavern (area O); she’s unaware of the fact that the
spriggans have moved into Varnhold.
If the PCs make her helpful, either via Diplomacy,
magic, or more likely the gift of Skybolt, Aecora’s voice
softens and she even grows somewhat apologetic. She
can explain to the PCs much of her people’s history
back to their clash with Taldor’s Army of Exploration. If
asked about the vanishing at Varnhold, she denies that
the Nomens had any involvement and invites the PCs to
search their camp (under supervision) for any evidence to
the contrary. She may initially suspect that the Culcheck
spriggans were responsible, but learning that there were
no bodies or signs of battle convinces her that this theory
is false as well.
Eventually Aecora grows quiet and solemn—if the
PCs mention the name Vordakai, she enters this state
immediately. After a moment, she admits that the name is not
unknown to her. According to their traditions, “Vordakai” is
a “slumbering warlord from the time of the mother tribes.”
In other words, this Vordakai is an ancient, powerful figure
from a point in the distant past. Aecora apologizes for being
unable to give the PCs more information, as her tribe has
lost much of its history in the years since they were dispersed
by Taldor’s army. Yet there is a place the PCs might go to
learn more—although it is a place that she fears may be their
doom if they travel there.
At this point, Aecora tells the PCs of a place to the
west called Olah-Kakanket—the “Valley of the Dead.”
This place is taboo to the Nomens, but their traditions
also dictate that they must watch the valley for signs
of disturbance or strange awakenings. Recently, a
Nomen huntress claimed to have seen a strange
and frightful shape lumbering amid the
stones of Olah-Kakanket. Aecora ominously
wonders if, perhaps, the humans of
Varnhold with their insatiable curiosity
and drive to expand and conquer might
have entered Olah-Kakanket, and if this,
perhaps, might be tied to the vanishing.
One thing she can confirm, though, is
that the name “Vordakai” is associated
with a narrow trail that leads up into the mountains
from the far end of Olah-Kakanket—she believes that
the valley is a graveyard, and that this trail leads to
Vordakai’s tomb.
Before the party departs, Aecora makes one final
plea. Almost as if ashamed (for that she is, turning
to others beyond her tribe to solve a problem),
she admits that the Nomen who claimed to see a
strange shape lumbering deep in Olah-Kakanket was
Lykàn crosses his arms and observes their positioning.
He lets the speaker of their group to speak. His prey isn't here....obviously.
As the group enters Quince looks about and follows the advice that the catfolk guides had taught them.
He begins in Sylvan, "Thank you for speaking with us. We come in peace. If our presence has raised concern that was not our intent. We have come seeking information. Your people have lived here for centuries and must know it well. I am Quince Medvyed of the Greenwatch. I have been tasked with learning what has happened to the people of the settlement called Varnhold, that straddles the Kiravoy River ford. Its people have vanished. Their homes were looted by Spriggans which we battled with. Yet we have learned little of where they have gone or what has befallen them."
"We know of the folks at Varnhold." She states coldly. The vanishing at Varnhold does not appear to disturb her. Aecora’s voice
softens and she even grows somewhat apologetic saying, "It is good that you brought some catfolk with you. We will lend you some aid, that this problem can be solved before it spreads."
She is willing to explain to you much of her people’s history back to their clash with Taldor’s Army of Exploration. If asked about the vanishing at Varnhold, she denies that the Nomens had any involvement and invites you to search their camp (under supervision) for any evidence to the contrary.
At this point, Aecora tells you of a place to the south called Olah-Kakanket—the “Valley of the Dead.” This place is taboo to the Nomens, but their traditions also dictate that they must watch the valley for signs of disturbance or strange awakenings. Recently, a Nomen huntress claimed to have seen a strange and frightful shape lumbering amid the stones of Olah-Kakanket. Aecora ominously wonders if, perhaps, the humans of Varnhold with their insatiable curiosity and drive to expand and conquer might have entered Olah-Kakanket, and if this, perhaps, might be tied to the vanishing.
One thing she can confirm, though, is that the name “Vordakai” is associated with a narrow trail that leads up into the mountains from the far end of Olah-Kakanket—she believes that the valley is a graveyard, and that this trail leads to Vordakai’s tomb. Before the party departs, Aecora makes one final plea. Almost as if ashamed, she admits that the Nomen who claimed to see a strange shape lumbering deep in Olah-Kakanket was her headstrong daughter Xamanthe. When Xamanthe confronted Aecora, demanding to learn more about the site, Aecora was unable to satisfy her curiosity. Xamanthe has been missing for several days now, and Aecora fears the worst—that her daughter has broken tradition and entered Olah-Kakanket to investigate it on her own. The possibility that her daughter broke this taboo is painful for Aecora to contemplate, but the possibility of the loss of her daughter is yet more painful. She asks you to remain observant.
Once the meeting with Aecora is over, the centaur politely asks you to leave their encampment. Your presence makes most of the Nomens uncomfortable and nervous—old prejudices and fears do not die over the course of a single meeting, after all.
"We know of the folks at Varnhold." She states coldly. The vanishing at Varnhold does not appear to disturb her. Aecora’s voice
softens and she even grows somewhat apologetic saying, "It is good that you brought some catfolk with you. We will lend you some aid, that this problem can be solved before it spreads."
"Whatever aid you could give we will be grateful."
She is willing to explain to you much of her people’s history back to their clash with Taldor’s Army of Exploration. If asked about the vanishing at Varnhold, she denies that the Nomens had any involvement and invites you to search their camp (under supervision) for any evidence to the contrary.
Quince listens to her story, "Do you mind if I take notes. My hope is that my people understand more of different peoples." If allowed Quince notes details of her story."[/b] When Aecora offers a search of the camp Quince smiles politely and turns to Lycan and speaks quietly aside, "You know the plains, I think that if a force large enough to capture and take the town would have left a trail through the hills easy to follow? What do you think?"
At this point, Aecora tells you of a place to the south called Olah-Kakanket—the “Valley of the Dead.” This place is taboo to the Nomens, but their traditions also dictate that they must watch the valley for signs of disturbance or strange awakenings. Recently, a Nomen huntress claimed to have seen a strange and frightful shape lumbering amid the stones of Olah-Kakanket. Aecora ominously wonders if, perhaps, the humans of Varnhold with their insatiable curiosity and drive to expand and conquer might have entered Olah-Kakanket, and if this, perhaps, might be tied to the vanishing.
One thing she can confirm, though, is that the name “Vordakai” is associated with a narrow trail that leads up into the mountains from the far end of Olah-Kakanket—she believes that the valley is a graveyard, and that this trail leads to Vordakai’s tomb. Before the party departs, Aecora makes one final plea. Almost as if ashamed, she admits that the Nomen who claimed to see a strange shape lumbering deep in Olah-Kakanket was her headstrong daughter Xamanthe. When Xamanthe confronted Aecora, demanding to learn more about the site, Aecora was unable to satisfy her curiosity. Xamanthe has been missing for several days now, and Aecora fears the worst—that her daughter has broken tradition and entered Olah-Kakanket to investigate it on her...
"I am sorry to hear of your daughter. I hope that she finds her way back to you. If we see any sign of her we will make ever effort to bring her. Could you help me mark these places on my map." He smiles as the meeting winds down. "I look forward to the time where we can celebrate at the funeral of old fears and prejudices. You have given us a trail to begin our hunt. Thank you."
Quince listens to her story, "Do you mind if I take notes. My hope is that my people understand more of different peoples." If allowed Quince notes details of her story."[/b] When Aecora offers a search of the camp Quince smiles politely and turns to Lycan and speaks quietly aside, "You know the plains, I think that if a force large enough to capture and take the town would have left a trail through the hills easy to follow? What do you think?"
Lykàn scowls as he is asked the question.
"A force that large wouldn't be getting very far without provisions and worse unnoticed. The plains have practically no or very little hiding spots furthermore the Centaurs and catfolk who resides closest to these plains have not seen anything." the red hairded elf shakes his head.
"No. I'm afraid the one who taken my prey is someone with enough power to abduct an entire city away with no one the wiser. The question now is not where are they but why were they and not other taken."
Quince nods. He regards Aecora, "Your willingness to allow us is unnecessary. We have seen no sign or trail that would lead us to assume you or your people are to blame. Our purpose here is to learn."
"I know you have no reason to trust us, and little cause to consider it. I thank you for your patience and guidance. As the Medvyed here has indicated, we wish only to learn about our neighbors, and to provide assistance where something seems to have gone very wrong. I am encouraged that you do not have the same level of difficulty as the more recent settlers."
She allows Quince to take notes and waits until he is ready with quill and paper.
She thanks you for keeping an eye for her daughter and points out the already marked spots on the map. "Your welcome and have a good hunt!"
She nods her thanks to Dinenen's words and the first genuine smile appears on her face. Likely due to both of your words inspiration.
"Quince nods and smiles. If we are to return someday. Is there a manner which is less jarring for your people. I know we caused a stir that we did not intend."
When all is said and done he adds, "Thank you I hope that this is not our last meeting. Farewell."
The elf is raring to start the hunt once more.
As the group moves away from the centaurs Quince notes Lykan's eagerness. "Happy to have a trail I see. I agree. You speak of your quarry from time to time. Unless I am wrong there is one among the people of Varnhold that has drawn your enmity. I would worry but we have met their neighbors and seen what the tanner is willing to skin."
She shakes her head no to Quinces question of coming in a manner less jarring. Though she nor the centaurs around offer a solution either.
You hear the farewell from her and the centaurs that guide you out.
-----
Your group leaves the centaurs and goes back to your waiting elk.
As he gets back to the elk he pats down his own mount, pulling out a carrot and offering it to the beast. Then in one quick motion he is upon the steed. He asks plainly, "So shall we travel South using the Jaunt ability or take our time with normal travel?"
"The sooner I deal with my quarry the better. Once that is gone, other matters may take up my attention. I admit that this is the longest I have ever stalked a quarry." The elf is displeased over his admission.
"We have an idea of where to look let's head there fast."
"Though has your quarry ever just dissappeared? Let alone with the rest of the village?" He says pointing out the obvious poor conditions.
"With not prints or bodies..." Cleonora add to Jorne's words.
"I don't understand the rush, Lykan. It runs counter to the Elven way.
The goal is always to be properly accomplished, not hurried."
"Though has your quarry ever just dissappeared? Let alone with the rest of the village?" He says pointing out the obvious poor conditions.
"With not prints or bodies..." Cleonora add to Jorne's words.
"Truly no. Even then this hunt has gotten all the more interesting." The elf smiles.
"I don't understand the rush, Lykan. It runs counter to the Elven way.
The goal is always to be properly accomplished, not hurried."
Lykàn looks at his fellow elf.
he can't help but just laugh at his words and then moves away."Elven way? Perhaps your way but not mine."
"He is simply suggesting we strike while the iron is hot. Is that not how the elves do it." He asks with a smirk.
"Let's get jaunty."
Taking to your elk mounts and using the 'jaunt' ability, you get to the entrance of the “Valley of the Dead”, within a few hours.
There you likely dismount and leave the elk behind as you see a skull shaped entrance that goes into the surrounding mountainous cliffs.
"Ominous. Yet this is where we must go." the hunter remarks.
"Somebody took the time to set that up. Going for dread, you think?"
"Or a flair for dramatics."
St. John looks at the skull and says "Or a warning to keep people safe. We will have to see."