Bea manages to pull herself out of her personal horror. "Don't mind me, I just... well... my 'father' did a similar thing. Enslaved us to be his servants, programming us with memories of him being our father and blocking all memories of our real families. It wasn't until his death did we realize what had happened." she blurted out the words with barely a pause for breath, needing to get it out again, not rattling in her mind all over the place, making her heart steal her breath. She had told this story to people before at the Ear so saying it again shouldn't hurt as much as it did... but it does.
"I... I will be okay... I think... you can concentrate on helping the others find out what to do next." she places her hand on Karana's and gives her a thank you squeeze.
“Concentrate? Oh, but… oh…”
Karana realizes that she cannot undo Bea’s past. Comforting her may work best if she complies. So she does concentrate… and somehow remembers reading about a Red or Ruby Triad. “Ruby, yes… I definitely remember associating a triad with rubies. I think I misread the word as ‘triangle.’
“Anyway, they are a merchant’s guild based in cat-something. Cat-a-pest…? Katapesh!”
Did I read that here, or overhear Miss Lyraine? she wonders.
"Damn. Katapesh." Beau sounds stunned by the revelation. "You can't say that Katapesh is just around the corner from Breachill! It's like what, a month's worth of travel away by land and boat? She must've been using her bookstore business as a means of ferrying questions and answers to and fro. That, or we're thinking of the wrong Triad here."
"How fresh were her footsteps again?" the gnome gets out of her funk to ask Gofran. "We saw her... two days ago? If nothing else."
"Difficult to know forr surre, Bea." Gofran says. "If I had to guess, I'd say she rrun avay soon afterr ve verre sent to the citadel. Perrhaps she thought ve'd find Calmont and that he'd rreveal herr disguise... the two do not appearr to be allies at the moment, based on the notes."
Beau rubs his temples and runs the whole situation through his head once more. "Would you all agree that it's likely to assume that she either ran away or she went to the citadel to finish whatever she business she has there? She's clearly been there before because the tunnel she took only leads to the citadel, from what we know, and she also mentions the literal skeleton crew. If she knew how to bypass them, we might stumble upon her deeper inside the citadel."
He pauses to catch his breath and train of thought. "Hrm, maybe we should report our findings to the captain so he can draft up a rapport, and we can sleep on these revelations and return to the citadel come tomorrow? "
"Let's take a look at this rroom firrst..." Gofran points to the other door in the room. "I do not believe she vent back to the citadel. Miss Lyrraine vas usin' the tunnel to get into the citadel and ve forr surre did not crross path vith herr."
Bea pulls herself up from her slumped pile on the floor, takes a moment to brush off the bits of floor things that have decided she would be something to take a ride on, and is ready to look in the last room.
The space behind the door seems to be a research room, with a large desk stacked with books, papers and components, shelves in the corners similarly laden, and a makeshift sleeping pallet in a corner - a small one, perhaps for a child... or a halfling.
The room is in the same state of disarray as the living space, with books and papers scattered everywhere and the desk drawers halfway open, as if someone had ransacked them in a hurry.
A loose leaf with an intricate diagram catches Beatrix's eye, while Karana spots the corner of a dog-eared journal peeking from under the makeshift bed.
Karana stifles a giggle. “Oh, no matter how silly the drawings are, this is serious.” She shows a page with drawings and strange language. “Can any of you read this?”
Wilford Lavendil, the captain of the guard, frowns at the page that Karana is holding up. "We should take these to the council, they'll find someone to translate." The half-elf looks at the rest of the group. "Did you find all that you were looking for?"
"It hasn't been too long since we met with the council, so let's try now. Maybe they are waiting for a report?" Bea suggests, ready to do anything but think about mind enslaving people.
Despite the late hour, the town council convenes again, and while someone who can read Necril would take at least until tomorrow to locate, the halfling merchant Crink Twiddleton of "Quarters and Bits" is only happy to translate the journal found in Voz Lirayne's workshop.
"Ah, well, I'm glad you called upon me, happy to serve, that's what I say, always at the service of this fine town and its heroes, my, but you look a little dusty, don't you? I have just the thing for that, an enchanted glove that will brush all manner of grime, dust and dirt, even the most stubborn, and leave your heroic outfits sparklingly clean... Eh, what's that? Not here for a sales pitch? Very well, very well, let's see, hmmm."
The halfling's eyes scan the handwritten lines rapidly as his eyebrows dance between expressions of amusement and consternation. "My, my, what a troubled fellow. I shall spare you his verbatim rants and ramblings, but the gist of it is that he very much hated goblins. He was also not very fond of Miss Lirayne - or of anyone, really. Says here, he snooped through her papers and letters, found mention of, of... 'Alseta's Ring', no idea who that is. He wanted to take the ring for himself, looks like. Oh, and there's this bit here, something about a Hellknight looking for the same ring, and how our fellow couldn't let him find it before he did." Crink Twiddleton raises his nose from the journal to look at Alak quizzically. "I assume he meant you, sir. He seemed to think it was a magical ring that could transport him to safety, something about the 'blasted greenskins' living next door."
Alak returns the look with confusion. "Alseta's Ring? I've never heard it called that way, it's just a family heirloom, no magic that I know of..."
Beau rubs the back of his head as the halfling translates the mad lad's journal. He's ever so thankful for the fact the halfling skips over the ramblings and tirades. "Could it be about the goddess? You know, the Alseta who you pray to when someone's pregnant? Still, it's mighty odd that anything sacred to Her would find itself quarantined underneath a Hellknight citadel ... or, of course, it's a complete coincidence ..."
"Ve need to know vhat is vrriten in necrril. It is quite possible, actually prrobable, that Alak's rring has nothin' to do vith this Alseta's Ring." Gofran then takes back the book Miss Lyraine had writen all over it. "Take a look herre... Miss Lyrraine says that the citadel vas built above the rring, and vhile it looks like she isn't surre about the rreason, she is surre about this rring's location."
"Also, ve have confirrmed Miss Lyrraine enterred the citadel and she vas in the rroom vherre ve found Alak's rroom, so if she vas lookin' forr it, she vould have found it forr surre. Yes, I'm convinced they arre two differrent things and Calmont misunderrstood it and jumped to conclusions."
"Calmont was a fool, then." Bea says sadly. She quite liked his dry wit the few times it came out in the shop. Her sister has probably moved on.
Karana becomes very worried. “But where is Miss Lyraine now? I do not know what she was up to… but what if she was hurt, or…?”
With not many options left for their investigation, the Breachill Heroes retire for the night. For most, sleep comes with difficulty - likely a mix of the oppressive summer heat and the excitement of the past couple of days. Alak, having found what he was looking for, retires to Wizard's Grace to rest and recuperate, thanking the group again for their assistance.
In the morning, Greta Gardania is waiting for the heroes in her office at the town hall, accompanied by Morta Valaskin. The mortician's unnaturally pale face is partially obscured by a gauzy black veil, and she wears black elbow length satin gloves to complement her mourning dress. Voz Lirayne's ritual notes in Necril are spread out on the desk before them, together with a couple of pages written in a cursive, elaborate script.
Greta Gardania greets everyone politely, nodding to the papers. "Good morning, everyone, I trust you had a restful night. Ms. Valaskin was kind enough to translate the writings that Ms. Lirayne left behind." She nods to Morta, who stands slightly straighter as she begins to speak, pointing at her translated notes.
"I doubt the details of the necromantic ritual are of interest to you (but if they are, let me know, I'll be more than happy to explain the details!), so I'll just jump to the essence of the matter, so to speak. It seems that Ms. Lirayne used the ritual to speak with several deceased residents of the Hellknight crypt. You can read here her conclusions."
Bea's tired eyes perk up at the mention of describing the ritual. Her sisters NEEDED to know every detail. Wanting descriptions AND sound effects. Goodness...
She raised her hand and nodded once Ms. Valaskin sees her. "Details are important, so we shouldn't skip over something a fascinating as necromantic rituals. Um... one other thing. What is Guardian's way?"
Morta gets an almost ecstatic look on her face as she bends over the original ritual diagram to explain it in detail to Beatrix, pointing out the subtleties in the rendering of the arcane runes.
Meanwhile, Greta Gardania frowns. "Guardian's Way is... was, a military outpost, used in the Goblinblood Wars. It's been long abandoned, though. The location is about 6 miles northwest from Breachill, in a wooded area."
Karana is disturbed by the secrets kept by both Ms. Lyraine and Calmont. “It seems she truly was up to no good then. And she was so kind to Dame Kyrie and I.”
Not wanting to dwell on the unpleasantness, Karana sets her mind to the task. “Is there any additional detail we should know of before we begin our six-mile hike?”
Greta Gardania shakes her head. "I don't know any more than this. Please, be careful."
"Miss Garrdenia, ve have rreturrned to Brreachill through a secrret tunnel that ends up underr the Pickled Earr. Please speak vith Miss Denn, about it, if ye could." Gofran explains, though lets Denn to have the chance of reporting the tunnel herself. "Because o' that, ve have left a couple prrisonerrs locked up in the old cells o' the citadel, as well as a couple puppies frrom a dead varrg. Ve had planned to rreturrn therre today, but since ve arre leavin' forr morre prressin' matterrs, I'd like to ask ye if ye could send some guarrds to brring 'em herre, since I believe the citadel is still not entirrely safe."
"The goblins have a terrible sense of logic and dangerr assessment. I'd not trrust them vith matterrs o' imporrtance."
Greta Gardania looks alarmed at the mention of prisoners and warg puppies. "That... that is, yes, of course, I will send the town guard to secure the prisoners and, um, dispose of the puppies." She looks like she's afraid to ask, but does so anyway. "The goblins, are they, erm..." She seems to search for her words before setting on a weak "...fine?"
Bea gives Gofran a look at telling on Rosie when she had thought they had decided to let her tell first. "The goblins are fine, Ms. Gardania. Gofran is just speaking of the fact he believes their opinions on where they want to live are unimportant. The prisoners are intelligent humanoids that came through the portal, just like the 'dragons'. The prisoners are violent, do not trust in their small size. Also, and lastly, I do not believe we are asking for the puppies disposal, just asking if there is someone who would be able to take care of them while we are investigating."
Karana adds, “The Chieftain’s mother and I have a history. Please mention to her that I am willing to assist with the animals later, when available, if the goblins do not wish to keep the warg puppies.
“But extinguishing their lives is unnecessary. They are very smart!”
The councilwoman looks taken aback as both Beatrix and Karana defend the warg puppies, but then replies, visibly holding back a sigh. "Very well, I shall ask one of the rangers living nearby if they can take care of the... creatures until you return. I do not believe it is wise to let them live, but well - adventurers are not usually known for their wisdom." She gives everyone a somewhat weak smile.
"This news of a portal, and violent people coming through it, is most concerning. I shall convene the council to discuss what is to be done. You said that the way to the lower level was blocked by a collapse? I shall send some stonemasons alongside the guards, to assess the situation. And I shall speak to Miss Denn, of course." She nods to the group. "Thank you for everything you have done so far. It may not have been a dragon, but I believe that what you have dealt with was a very serious threat - and it may still menace Breachill. You have my full support in your attempts to get to the bottom of this situation."
Gofran shakes his head at Bea's reasoning of his words. "That is not vhat I've said. I vas just pointin' out that they do not seem to be vise. They trricked a vild bearr and locked it in a rroom..." He shrugs. "I also believe that the citadel is a too imporrtant defensive strructurre to be left in that state o' disrrepairr and underr the command o' the goblins. I believe it vould be vise to trry forr a trreaty in orrderr to offerr the goblins anotherr place to live and then rrepairr the place, but this is o' little consequence to ourr current situation."
As the councilor questions his wisdom about sparring the warg pups, Gofran is fast to reply. "Goblins and varrgs have a long historry o' cooperration and varrgs arre as much smarrterr as the goblins arre. If a histprrically evil rrace could be said to have left theirr vicked vays behind them, like the Bumblebrrasherrs, then sayin' it is foolish to sparre pup varrgs is contrradictorry, is it not?"
“I take offense to this comment,” Karana says of the adventurers’ wisdom remark. “We spared many who attempted to kill us because we did not lose ourselves to the violence that was forced upon us. In truth, many simians and boggards still breathe though they are less deserving of mercy than the wargs, who are simply puppies.
“To end a life so casually is not wisdom. Wise decisions are those on which the heart and the mind agree.”
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Beatrix leaves the disagreement of words alone giving just a minor crossing of arms and a slight humpff. Might be a residual annoyance at the Denn thing more than anything else.
She also does not join the discussion on their collective wisdom. She brought up the puppies due to her companion's wants and wishes, not her own. The gnome doesn't have a big opinion either way on this.
She is just not much of a canine-type person.
Not tentacly enough
"Well, I only... apologies for having caused offense." Greta Gardania stammers a little, but then recovers her poise as she inclines her head to Karana and Gofran. "You are likely correct about the citadel, but the structure has been in a bit of legal limbo ever since the Hellknights abandoned it." To Karana, the councilwoman adds, "Your kindness and mercy are appreciated, I'm sure. We will keep both the prisoners and the puppies safe."
Karana feels a little guilty as Greta apologizes.
“Thank you, Miss Gardenia. Perhaps my words were a little strong… I just mean that an adventurer, as you put it, is often in a position to end one life after another. Some of our men were badly hurt, and it was tempting to finish the fallen enemy rather than stabilize their wounds.
“I am doing my best not to give into that temptation, even knowing the foe would show no mercy to me.”
Beau gets the councilwoman and more than understands where she's coming from. The rogue stifles a chuckle as she and Karana might be more alike than the two of them realize. It's just that one prefers to protect society and the other sees nature as one big overarching society.
"Colliding words can cause a ruckus, but we're all reasonable people, and now that the fuss has died down, I think we can agree to move on from this point? There's still so much to do and there are only so many hours in a day ..." The words are accompanied by a smile and a pair of eyes that are screaming with impatience. Beau wants to go.
Gofran nods, signaling and end to the disagreement and misunderstanding. "Beau is corrrect. Ve should be on ourr vay to the Guarrdian's Vay. Miss Garrdenia, do ye believe ve could get a map o' the rregion, orr at leat a descrription o' a notable landmarrk close to the place?" He asks. "6 miles norrthvest and in the voods is a little too vague. I'm surre ve vill eventually find the place, but since ve arre unsurre about the urrgency o' this quest, it vould be betterr if ve do not lose much time lookin'."
The councilwoman gets an unfocused look as she seems to be thinking hard. "I've never been to the place, but... Jorell Blacktusk at the archives might have something."
Indeed, the half-orc librarian is more than happy to help, taking pride in his ability to track down even the most obscure records. After about an hour of searching, frequently interrupted to share random tidbits of town history or trivia, Jorell locates a field report from the Goblinblood Wars.
Field Report
Isgeri 3rd Company - Dismissal Request
The Garrison at Guardian’s Way didn’t see much action in the early parts of the war. What with all the fuss down in the Chitterwood, we were able to set up pretty good fortifications and managed to disincentivize their early actions by inflicting heavy losses. However, as the war dragged on, a few of our number got reassigned and the activity picked up at Guardian’s Way. Knowing that we needed information before the tide turned against us, we started forays in to scout what we could of the local cave system.
Commander Rovly led our expedition. There were five other teams that went out; only two others reported back. We ran into significant amounts of Goblin activity but they weren’t expecting us to be attacking them in the caverns and made short work of them time and again. All told we made it about 7 miles into the caves and recorded a few landmarks along our route. The first about a mile in is a pretty good size cavern - maybe 25 feet across - that branches pretty symmetrically in three equally sized passages. Our group was one of the ones tasked with the center passage. About a mile further in we found a Goblin War Camp. We got the greenskins while they were sleeping and burned them out… heh. Two miles later we found an odd cavern where five shafts of daylight shined in from the ceiling and illuminated the cavern floor beneath for a few hours either side of noon and I s#%% you not a tree was growing at the bottom. About five miles in there was a 20 foot ledge we were on the wrong side of. That was the first time we took serious casualties; the little bastards on top played it right -- we don’t usually think of them being that smart and organized, but this got us thinking that they have a leader. Two miles later there was a chasm we couldn’t see the bottom of -- it ran straight across every way we could find and was nearly 40 feet across in some places. Finally we came across one passage with a bridge. It must have been Dwarf-made from back in the day. The thing had collapsed at some point, but a rope and plank bridge was strung across using the original foundation work.
Once we crossed the bridge is where things got ugly and, well, strange. We came upon a larger cavern. There was some sort of wolf-demon on a throne. Said he was a god. The bastard had spiked and strung up mutilated goblins all over the walls of his lair and still the little snots worshipped him and followed his every order. Now I’d rot with Rovagug before I befriended a greenskin, but seeing this thing... shook me.. To get away from a monster like that; I can almost understand why they’d suicidally charge us back at Guardian’s Way.
Our company knew that we couldn’t let this thing live and we knew that if we could eliminate him, we could prevent things from getting much worse up our way, so we planned and we took the chance. We set archers and casters up on the ledges and bombarded him from a distance while we sent in the heavy armoured guys down front. Some Goblins came from our rear and crushed one of our flanks and nearly turned the tide. The wolf-monster threw dozens of his men at us rather than face us himself. We got thinking he was just a coward with big britches. But once we cleared his minions and took some losses he counter-attacked and it was vicious. He could see in the dark and took out our light sources. Most of our weapons bounced right off him. He made our own men fight each other and could either disappear or teleport, I think. In the middle of it, he sank his fangs into Commander Rovly’s neck and dragged him off. I never saw him again. He took down 2/3rds of us but we were wearing him down. Then one of the Wizard’s launched a fireball and once we shook off the glare and our eyes readjusted there was no sign of him. He coulda run or we coulda got him; I couldn’t tell you.
We searched the area and couldn’t find him. Behind his lair was some sort of collapse where the ground gave way and below us was an incredible ruin. We sent a few men down, trying to track where that thing might have gone. But all they found down there was a fountain with some elf statues, some arches in the wall and two doors we couldn’t get through. One was locked tight, something about the other knocked Olzu on his ass before he called out for a retreat -- is what I heard anyways.
That was the last time I went into the caves and I was one of the few to make it out. I got dead friends on my conscience, a strong fear of the mysteries that take root in the dark, a goodly number of scars, a bum leg, and, I hope, an honourable discharge and pension out of the deal. I come out better than most in this bloodbath.
Signed: Sergeant Agler; 3rd Company
Gofran takes the report and reads it thoroughly before passing it to the others. "This is makin' morre sense... elven rruins. Ve arre on the rright trrack."
The little gnome stares off into space, before shaking herself back into the conversation. "Sorry, it felt like I was lost for a moment. This single moment stretched for more than twenty days. A side effect of magical studies." she waves away any questions. "Shall we be off?"
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Gofran frowns at the gnome's weird comment and then laughs to himself. At least she was not pooping when that happened... that would have been weird... He recomposes himself. "I'm rready to go."
With their provisions replenished and a new sense of purpose and direction, Breachill's Heroes set out from the northern gate towards Guardian's Way. The day is cloudy, but still hot, and soon those unaccustomed to warm climates find themselves sweating. Fortunately, it only takes a couple of hours to reach the are of the forest where the former military outpost is supposed to be located, and the last half an hour or so of the walk mercifully takes place under the canopy, where the closely packed trees offer a measure of respite from the heat.
Soon, the edge of the clearing comes into view, and beyond that several tall wooden structures can be glimpsed.
Gofran gestures the others for caution. "Vait herre a bit. I'll cirrcle the clearrin', lookin' forr anythin' dangerrous. Come vith me, Beau." Gofran than sneaks forward, scouting the area.
Karana has her pest form in needed, but for now she nods to Gofran and waits.
Beau's legs are half the size of the bigger folk so requires twice the work of them to get her where they are going. And they all seem to walk so fast. So Bea doesn't complain at all about being left while the Bea with the U is summoned forth.
Kyrie is not the least bit stealthy, so she holds steady and waits for the results of the scouting.
Gofran and Beau take off ahead, moving slowly and carefully under the cover of trees and underbrush. After a few moments, the thick forest gives way to a meadow, where three sturdy outposts have been built in the trees. A fourth building stands on the ground in the meadow's center. Behind it, a vine-covered rocky cliff rises up fifty feet to a barren bluff above.
The closest outpost is the largest one as well, a two-tier wooden platform whose lower portion is supported twenty feet off the ground by the trunk and branches of three large trees. a pair of rope ladders provides access to the platform's lower tier, while another rope ladder ascends to the upper tier, ten feet above. The branches of the central tree hang down low, obscuring both platforms, but Beau hears a couple of voices engaged in conversation and sees two pairs of feet dangling off the lower platform.
"...right, but what I'm saying is, the Chelish got that recipe from Qadira, via Taldor. So you can't really say it's 'authentic Chelish spiced wine', you know what I'm saying?"
The rogue turns around to his companions and gestures with his hand for them to stay quiet. He then brings his index finger to his eye, taps his cheek, and points it at the platform where the voices are coming from.
Gofran points to the two smaller outposts on the back. "Let's see if ve can see how many morre ve arre dealin' vith." He then enters the woods to the south, circling around towards the southern outpost.
Prowling through the underbrush, Gofran manages to get close enough to the southern outpost to discern the presence of a third figure - a half-elf woman with short, dark hair in studded leather armour, currently preoccupied with carving something in the trunk of the tree housing the platform.
Still, she has a good vantage point from that height, and the ranger feels that leaving the cover of the thick forest would be extremely risky.
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It is at this moment that nostalgia and a sense of homesickness hit Beau. Trees, hidden hideouts amongst the branches, and devious plots and plans. Sure, it landed him in jail, but part of him can't forget the fun he had in those days. Shame we can't just talk this out. Damn shame we'll have to bonk them on the nogging till they come to their senses.