Ezren the Younger listens to the woman intently. Seeing Cayden Calien’s holy symbol around her neck he wonders if she had too much alcohol. That could explain getting lost and taking a nap so deep she didn’t feel getting swallowed. But the devout know not to overindulge alcohol so I doubt she drank enough to pass out. Perhaps she’s simply unlucky. He does a quick look to judge the snake’s skin; the quality of leather that could be made.
When Angus introduces him to Fliss, he gives a slight bow. ”Yes indeed, as Angus said, we are seeking the cure so you will not have to fight us.”
Fliss looks releived that they aren't bandits so she won't have to fight them all at once. "Good to meet you all, I owe you one for getting me out of there, my blade is yours if you need it." She looks around. "Not sure wehre we are, to be honest, so it's probalby a good thing I found you. Sort of ran off into the woods without thinking it through, really. I do that."
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Despite the previous night's serpentine interruption, you all wake relatively refreshed the next morning and head out in the direction of the Elder Tree. If you make good time today, Angus think that you might reach the lake that lies at the heart of Darkmoon Vale's forest today; tomorrow at the latest.
Notice checks:
The forest continues to get more tangled as you continue to the north. During the middle of the afternoon, Fliss notices some movement out of the corner of her eye in the far distance. Looking more closely, she sees that there is a small figure about the size of a thin human child in a glade about 200 yards away. The figure is sitting on the ground and is being continuously dive-bombed by small creatures that the others quickly recognize as stirges. The stirges fly in, attach themselves to the small figure, then fly away again after a few seconds. This process keeps repeating itself. The figure does not seem to be particularly bothered by them and swats the creatures away casually.
”I won’t go into the arcane and philosophical theories now, but a slight modification of my Protection spell can clean surfaces of harmful agents, like blood or even mud, but not wine for example.”
He chants with his cane pointed at Fliss and a band of golden-green arcane symbols surrounds Fliss’ waist. It begins to spin fast, the symbols flying from the band and landing on Fliss. In the blink of an eye she is covered by these symbols and in another blink they disappear together, revealing that the blood is gone.
The next day, upon witnessing the boy getting attacked by stirges, Ezren says ”Is he too weak to run? Why is he just sitting there? How should we approach him?”
The next day, upon witnessing the boy getting attacked by stirges, Ezren says ”Is he too weak to run? Why is he just sitting there? How should we approach him?”
Angus takes out his gear to see what he has to field dress the snake, since he had planned on doing some foraging as part of his meal planning for the trip.
Survival Wild
Unfortunately, he forgot to pack a proper knife, and between that and wanting to scrape off any bodily fluids (or solids) Fliis may have left behind, he does a poor butchering job.
-------------------
"Definitely something odd about it. I say cautious with ranged weapons at the ready." he responds to Ezren's query, taking his bow out and knocking an arrow.
Fliss gives Ezren a smile as her clothing becomes clean and fresher than it has been in days. "Thanks for that, old-timer." A wink takes any insult out of the remark. When she sees the stirges, she draws her sword and runs forward to drive them away! She doesn't notice that her new friends are taking tiem to see what's happening rather than following her straight into trouble.
Seeing Fliss’ wink, Ezren chuckles and waves his hand in a dismissing manner. ”Think nothing of.”
-----------
”A good idea Angus –“ Ezren says then notices Fliss running for the boy.
”Careful Fliss!” he calls out striding to be closer to the cleric and Gustav. He chants his familiar protection spell, directing it at Fliss and Gustav.
”A good idea Angus –“ Ezren says then notices Fliss running for the boy.
”Sorry Fliss!” he calls out striding to be closer to the cleric. ”I’m not as fast as you!” He uses the cane and pushes off tree trunks to hurry after the cleric. His strides are short and he knows he risks tripping by keeping his footsteps almost a shuffle, but that person looks to be in serious trouble and time is of the essence.
Angus glides in at an angle off from Fliss's path, trying to get into a position off to the side with a good line of sight to the stirges and the child-thing in the clearing without being grouped up.
As you get closer to the child-sized figure sitting on the ground being dive-bombed by stirges, some of its features come into clearer view. First of all, it is definitely not a child; it's much too skinny for that. Second, you would guess that it is not even alive, perhaps an undead of some kind. Taught, dry skin covers angular bones with hardly any skin covering its skull. Judging by its shape, you would guess that this once was a kobold. It is still wearing clothes and carries a satchel and a spear is laid on the ground beside it. Now that you are closer, you can see that the stirges seems to be trying to get at its skull, or perhaps something inside of its skull. The skeletal creature bats them away with its hands, but barely pays them attention, focused on something on the ground in front of it.
Gustav lags behind the others a bit, his short legs taking him longer to complete the journey... plus he by nature is a bit more cautious. "What is it? Why isn't the little girl running away"?
"Damn, it's undead." Angus says, letting an arrow fly towards the undead creature and drawing his sword.
Shooting Wild 4
Damage
FLiss skids to a halt as she sees that no rescue is needed. "It seems to be looking at something." She keeps watch for teh stirges while Angus shoots the skeleton.
The stirges, noticing the approach of warm-blooded creatures, seemingly decide to pick juicier targets and come diving at Fliss and Angus. The undead creature does not seem to be aware of your presence and just keeps staring at something on the ground in front of where it is sitting. (
,
,
,
Ezren speed hobbles behind the others. The sound of his breathing grows louder in the last fifty yards. He wipes the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
”Undead and stirges?!” he says as he hurries towards his companions, panting with the exertion. ”Why would blood sucking insects attack an undead? Now’s the time to think about their weaknesses.”
Gustav stops short in his approach and draws a careful bead on one of the flying stirges, letting loose with a bolt from his hand crossbow.
shooting + Wild Die
explosion
bolt Damage (+ Raise?)
11 to hit and 7 damage
"What is she? Oh well. I know what those giant furry mosquitos are".
Seeing the stirge attack Angus, Fliss runs back to him and attacks!
Gustav's shot skewers one of the creatures, causing it to flap off into the woods to save itself. Fliss does the same to another with her sword, causing the rest of the stirges to fly away as well, abandoning their prey.
The seemingly undead creature you inadvertently rescued seems to be unaware of your presence and continues staring at something in front of it. Moving around, you can see that it is a piece of leather with something scrawled on it in a strange-looking angular form of writing.
As you stare at the strange seated creature, a small brown rat with white spots around its ears pops out of one of the seated creature's empty eye sockets. The rat looks around very suspiciously before disappearing back inside the skull.
”Oh, I know Draconic, many arcana treatises are written in that,” Ezren says. He bends closer to the piece of leather while keeping his cane ready to poke the undead creature should it attack him.
At the sight of the rat, Ezren flinches and almost jumps back. ”What – you saw that? A rat living in an undead – “ he shivers and looks away. After taking a slow breath he reads the leather again and steps back.
Ezren studies the script written on the piece of leather sitting in front of the undead figure and realizes that it is draconic, although whatever wrote had lovely penmanship. The draconic term is a bit archaic, but refers to dragon priests who worship what humans call the "Green Faith", the embodiment of nature. Now that he is looking at it more closely, Ezren notices that the ends of the leather are attached to a strong that must have once hung around the undead creature's neck.
Seemingly sensing his presence, the undead creature turns its head toward Ezren and cocks its head to the side quizzically and points at the writing.
Ezren explains what he read to his companions then reads the draconic term aloud to see if the undead has any reaction.
”Gustav your fingers are more nimble than mine,” the old man says. ”Do you mind tying the ends into a knot so the leather piece will be a necklace.”
As soon as Ezren speaks the word in Draconic, the undead creature turns to face him. Sounds begin to grumble in what is left of its throat, and it begins to speak, haltingly at first, but soon with more confidence.
"Yes! Yes! That's what ... I was! What happened? Where is my tribe? Where is Creeper?"
”I don’t know who Creeper is,” Ezren says in Draconic, his eyes looking to his companions. ”What tribe did you belong to? Do you know the year?”
He switches to Common. ”Does anybody know Creeper?”
Gustav finally catches up to the others and leans hands on his thighs as Ezren inspects the creature. He is careful not to get too close, as undeath is still not totally resolved within him.
He starts at Ezren's request. "Um... sure. Just hand it to me and I'll tie it up proper".
It is obvious he doesn't really want to get too close to the thing.
"Creeper? Tribe? I don't know nothing about all that".
Ezren sighs, standing straight. ”Thank you, Gustav. Well how many humanoids would use draconic if they became undead? Maybe a kobold? Though maybe a lizardfolk would be more likely to follow the Green Faith.” He takes a step then turns back to the creature.
Ezren lowers his torso again, using the cane to keep himself balanced, as he speaks to the undead creature. ”Where were you from? What was the name of the place?”
Fliss doesn't have much to do with the undead, byoned destroying them heroically in the manner of her god. She shifts from foot to foot, hoping that Ezren will decide that enough is enough adn they can put this thing to rest.
The undead creature turns its head toward Ezren as he addresses it in Draconic.
"Tribe? Where from? I ... I am not sure. Yes, it is true, I don't remember."
It then shakes its head as if to clear it, and the rat you saw before comes flying out of its eye socket and tumbles over the ground. This immediatley draws the undead kobold's attention and it grasps the rodent in its hands and begins to stroke it.
"Good Creeper," it intones in a soothing fashion, well, as soothing a sound it can make with its decaying vocal chords. "Don't run away again, Creeper, stay with Kolmokmurk, be good." Surprisingly, the rat does not run away, but seems to calm down and nestle into the undead creature's lap.
”Oh of course, Creeper is your furry friend,” Ezren says seeing the rat. ”And you’re Kolmokmurk? Ah, I’m Ezren the Younger. Have you heard of the Elder Tree or Ulizmila? She lives in a hut.” The old man stares at the undead with increasing sorrow in his eyes. This poor soul trapped in this undead body. He glances at Fliss giving a slight nod of the head that he knows what she wants to do.
As Ezren translastes the conversation, Fliss feels her resolve to end this thing turn to a sort of pity for it. There's no glory in killing - or rekilling - a creature that doesn'ts seem to be doing any harm to anyone. She watches closely in case this is a trick, but Ezren can see her visibly relax from her previous tense stance.
Just when Ezren thinks that the undead kobold has not understood him, he begins to speak in a monotone voice.
"A Thorn or a Burr
She takes for a Spurre:
With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,
Through Brakes and through Bryars,
O're Ditches, and Mires,
She followes the Spirit that guides now."
Then there is a sound almost like a dry laugh and the undead creatures shudders involuntarily, but does not look at the wizard.
"Yes, I have heard of the Witch of the Darkmoon Vale, yes indeed. You'd do best to avoid her. My people stay in their caves and burrows and do not bother one such as she."
”It probably is best we avoid her,” Ezren admits, ”but we can’t. We are searching for a cure, the ingredients for a cure and she has information we need. Thank you for your warning. She does sound menacing. Where did you learn that poem? And you’re follower of the Green Faith?”
Ezren writes the poem on a sheet of paper.
The undead creature drifts off again in thought, ignoring everything around it and tilting its head up to face the sun.
"Hmm. Ezren can you make sense of any of this"? '
"Do we just let this thing set here or should we send it to it's final rest"?
Fliss looks unhappy. "I was wondering the same thing, I sort of feel sorry for it, you know?"
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”It’s unlike any undead creature I’ve seen before,” Ezren admits. ”My instinct is to destroy it, but it’s lack of aggression and the sign around its neck, make me reconsider. When I consider the vast number of things on Golarion and further into the planes I’ve never encountered and those I don’t yet know about, it’s not so surprising there may be a single undead kobold that doesn’t need to be destroyed.”
He sighs looking at his companions. ”I didn’t expect such an ethical dilemma today. Is it mercy then? I vote for mercy.”
Fliss nods in agreement, wondering whether she can get bragging rights out of being a priest who heroically spared an undead creature. "So, what next? Did you get any useful information?" She looks around warily. The entire forest all loosk the same to her - creepy, and full of menace.
But then she brightens up (not much damps her spirits for long). After all, for a hero's light to shine, they have to go where the dark is.
The old man pauses, considering Fliss’ question. ”I don’t know how useful the poem will be, but it is interesting. I say we continue on our way.”
Accompanied by a few joints cracking, Ezren bends closer to the sign once more. ”Who put this on you?” He waits for an answer then stands upright again with a different joints popping.
”Well, the living usually flee the undead, so if Creeper doesn’t mind Kolmokmurk being undead, I don’t feel wrong by leaving it alone.”
You leave the strange undead create behind. It seems unwilling or unable to talk to you, and continues gazing at the ground in front of it as you leave the clearing and retrace your steps to the route you were orignally on.
That night thankfully passes without any dangerous interruptions, although several deer stop by to check you out just before dawn.
The next day dawns bright, and you wonder if the weather might hold out. Within a few hours, however, clouds move in from the north and begin a slow drizzle, once again soaking you to the bone.
Two hours after you stop for lunch, the group crests another hill only to find the Droskmere, the central lake of Darkmoon Vale stretched out before you. Its water is incredibly blue despite the clouds overhead. Judging from your vantage point, you are near the eastern edge of the lake, and it is this edge you need to skirt before continuing a few more days to the northwest to reach the Elder Tree.
"There are, of course, dangers to the lake... large snakes" he gives Fliss an apologetic look [b]"..."Giant turtle or frogs, the occasional lake monster, stuff like that, and of course predators coming down to take a drink or eat some prey doing the same. At least if we stick close to the shore, we should have pretty good sight lines. Maybe even spot something for lunch if we're quiet enough." Angus offers, breaking the strange quiet he fell into during the conversation with the undead kobold.
Angus looks to see if there are tracks of any animals or others in the vicinity.
Survival Wild 4, success
”I am for stopping by the lake to acquire fresh water,” Ezren says. ”Hopefully we only will need to deal with mosquitoes.” He shakes his water skin, and the sound of water sloshing weakly comes from it.
”What do the tracks tell you Angus?”
Fliss doesn't hesitate. "We need a refill of water, and there are people back in town counting on us. We have to take the quicker route." She heads quickly down to the water, keepign an eye out for trouble but probably faster than is safe.
Angus does see that game is particularly abundant here near the water. There are tracks for deer, foxes, rabbits, snakes, and more exotic creatures that can only be found in this part of the world such as dunlied (a stout breed of small-antlered deer that are sometimes trained as mounts), firefoot fennec (small foxes with long ears and wispy patches of flame-colored fur around their paws), and Saingrist's crawlers, a breed of red and black centipedes that can grow to monstrous size (Angus guess the average are around 3-4 feet in length).
While Fliss is filling her waterskin at the water's edge she look around and briefly hears a noise in the distance. It sounds to be some distance off and could be a person in pain. It is coming from the opposite direction that the group will eventually have to travel.