GM Feyrial's Fall of Plaguestone (Private) (Inactive)

Game Master feyrial

Finoan thinks for a few seconds and comments almost as an afterthought to Niss, "No, I don't think Drake should go alone. We do need to speak with Baradim and Tamli though. But we should all go."

"OK, so here at the Feedmill, with the caravan, and maybe with Rolth with some of the officers as guards. Those would be the top three places to sleep and have some semblance of protection. Thanks Delma."

Fin starts heading down the stairs. "OK, let's go find Baradim Tamli and hope that they are currently receiving guests."

~~~~~ On the way there while out of earshot of anyone else. ~~~~~

Fin whispers to Niss and Drake, "And in case you hadn't thought of it, we are of course not having you stay in any of those locations. Running is still the most practical option - and that is currently available if needed. But it often comes with a cost that is too high to pay. Currently I think we can get by with a bit of deception and caution. All we have evidence of so far is a scout."

"Inniska," Fin says rather formally, "I need you to make a very important decision. You will need help in order to stay free. I need you to come up with a short list of people that you trust completely. To the extent that if you do end up enslaved again because of their actions, that the sting of slavery would be dwarfed by the sting of their betrayal. I hope that I am on that list, and I expect that Drake is as well or else I would not be discussing this in his presence."

"Once you have decided on your list of trusted people, we can figure out where you are sleeping tonight. And do try to sleep well tonight." Fin smiles a bit. "It is difficult to sneak up on people while they sleep, when they never sleep. No one will approach you unaware."

Get this handled while you all lose your minds over a silly little present on the pillow ;) and before you all go looking for Tamli and Baradim. ;)

"I made a promise back in Vigil, back before it fell to the Whispering Tyrant." Baradim said, his voice unconsciously a whisper. "Their deaths saved me, spared me, and hid me in my cowardice. I made a vow that I would make amends to them."

"I planned on heading westward, into Andoran, and joining the knights there. A dozen men saved me; I would be a hero a dozen times. I-I cannot break that vow. I could not live with the shame." He said softly, stepping closer towards her.

"I am going to throw myself into danger again and again. I do not know if I will ever stop. If...if you follow me, I may one day never come home from a horror too great to stop. I am no farmer or a merchant. I do not sow seeds nor do I make crafts. I make war. I battle. I slay horrors in our world...so I may slay horrors in my mind." His hand reached out for her, slipping around Tamli's wide hip before pulling her closer slowly. Baradim's head dipped down, his forehead resting against hers. "I would love...no...be honored to accept your peace, your warmth, you...if you can accept my war, my battle, the future I offer." His grip tightened slightly, clinging to her like a beast caught on a branch in the river. It could be the moment that the branch broke free and he was swept in the current again. Rather than mourn the safety, it was better to relish the comfort it brought.

Tamli uncrosses her arms as he pulls her close, resting her forehead gently against his own and looking up at him through her lashes. ”I’d never ask you to break a vow,” She says, running her hands up and down his sides comfortingly. She knew he had demons to face, promises to keep. His sense of honor and justice was part of the appeal; she'd lose all respect for him if he had intended to give any of his vows up.

”Where you go, I follow. Whether it be with the caravan, or with me leaving the twins in charge. In times of war or in times of peace. I will be there.” She whispers, her eyes never leaving his. Her roaming hands stop to rest on his hips, and the half-orc woman digs her fingers in with sudden force, pulling him as close to her as she can.

”You won’t fight any of it alone.” Tamli slips one of her hands around the back of his neck to pull him down into a fierce kiss, pouring fire into the gesture. She hopes to fill him, just for a moment, with the warmth and peace he craves; her touch pulling the branch Baradim clung to from the river and into the comfort of her embrace.

Drake looks to Fin and nods. "Yeah, okay. Let's all go together. Sounds good." Taking a firm hold of Niss's hand, "C'mon, Niss, we're going to do this together. It hasn't failed us yet and it's not going to now," he says with absolute conviction. "C'mon." With Niss in hand, and hoping she doesn't resist, Drake follows Fin out the door and toward the caravan.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"I'm thinking we should all stick together in the same place. Doesn't matter where." Then looking to Niss, he wonders if there really is anybody else she trusts outside of himself, Fin, and Baradim.

~~~~~ On the way there while out of earshot of anyone else. ~~~~~

Fin whispers to Niss and Drake, "And in case you hadn't thought of it, we are of course not having you stay in any of those locations. Running is still the most practical option - and that is currently available if needed. But it often comes with a cost that is too high to pay. Currently I think we can get by with a bit of deception and caution. All we have evidence of so far is a scout."

"Inniska," Fin says rather formally, "I need you to make a very important decision. You will need help in order to stay free. I need you to come up with a short list of people that you trust completely. To the extent that if you do end up enslaved again because of their actions, that the sting of slavery would be dwarfed by the sting of their betrayal. I hope that I am on that list, and I expect that Drake is as well or else I would not be discussing this in his presence."

"Once you have decided on your list of trusted people, we can figure out where you are sleeping tonight. And do try to sleep well tonight." Fin smiles a bit. "It is difficult to sneak up on people while they sleep, when they never sleep. No one will approach you unaware."

Niss just looked back and forth between the two of them. She spoke slowly. "You met me four days ago. Four days. And you're willing to risk everything for me. I almost can't understand it... Except...I do trust you, with my life. The three of you. And I can't think of another soul in the world." A sob escaped, but with it, hope returned to her. A little, at least. She was still terrified they'd be hurt on her account... But maybe they would be able to help her. Maybe she didn't have to...

She glanced down at the collar still in her hands, and suddenly was revulsed by it. "This severs me from my powers. She made me wear it whenever I was not doing her bidding. I had to do... unspeakable things, to be free of it. Please... Get it out of my sight.". She held it out to them, and Drake could feel her returning. Terrified... But with fight in her again.

"I don't want to run anymore."

Taking it from her, Drake smiles. "There's my girl. And I know exactly what to do with this." The ranger puts it within his pack, anticipating the meeting with this woman's mercenaries. Because he knows someone like her wouldn't dare be present as her own dirty work is being carried out. Although, deep down, Drake secretly hoped she would. That is one head I want to see roll.

Fin grins viciously. "Now, we're talking."

"So, where do we put you up for the night? Well, if you ever need a good hidey hole, follow a Goblin. Those little cowardly scavengers know all the best places. It may not be the most glamorous of accommodations, but you will be unlikely to have any surprises put on your bedding."

"Let's go talk to Baradim and Tamli. Niss, can you tell them that you are going to ask Rolth for a secure place in town to stay. Correct yourself telepathically to those you trust, of course. But a false trail is a good trail."

Fin continues on to the caravan campsite.

Retaking Niss's hand, he follows along to the campsite, calling out for the half-orc when they arrive. "Baradim! Baradim!" As soon as he makes an appearance, "Got some bad news. They found Niss and left her a friendly little note on our bed," he informs, the irritation in his voice quite clear. "They're here. Somewhere. We haven't seen anyone and Delma recalls no strangers coming through. So, I don't know. Pretty mysterious to me." Shaking his head, he runs his free hand through his hair. "I don't get it. What are they waiting for?"

Niss, can you tell them that you are going to ask Rolth for a secure place in town to stay. Correct yourself telepathically to those you trust, of course. But a false trail is a good trail."

She nodded, holding tightly to Drake's hand and hoping none of them come to regret this.

"I don't get it. What are they waiting for?"

"It's not about getting me back. Not yet. She thought she broke me, a long time ago. My escaping proved her wrong. She intends to finish the job. She's doing this to scare me. And it's working, I might add."

"We're going to seek shelter with Rolth.".

"Baradim...I know you care for Tamli. And if you trust her, I will, too. But I don't want the rest to know the truth of where we're going.". She filled him in, as Fin instructed.

Drake wrote:

"I don't get it. What are they waiting for?"

"It's not about getting me back. Not yet. She thought she broke me, a long time ago. My escaping proved her wrong. She intends to finish the job. She's doing this to scare me. And it's working, I might add."

"We're going to seek shelter with Rolth."

With a look of compassion, he moves his right hand to her cheek, a look of sheer confidence about him. "Hey, you've no reason to be scared, you hear me? And I'll tell you why. Because you're a badass, Niss, that's why. I've seen you throw tree branches with your mind for crying out loud! If anybody should be scared, it's them who should be scared of you. Not to mention we've got a mechanical cat who's nice enough until you piss him off and an overgrown half-orc - and possibly his lovely companion - just waiting to take somebody's head off." He looks at the guys and throws them a wink before focusing back on her. "They are going to have to go through Heaven and Hell to get to you. And even if they make it that far, they are still going to have to deal with us." He grins softly. "I can promise you this, my love, they will feel our wrath if they don't give up this endeavor." Reaching up with his lips and kissing her gently on the forehead, he says, "And Rolth's it is."

~~~A QUIET MOMENT~~~

Baradim listens with a cool expression, steeling himself for the worst of it. It was a natural defense at this point; if you expected the worst to happen then you were better prepared to bear it. His slow travel across Golarion had taught him that much as he left the Gravelands behind him. With each word that she said, his grip tightened subtly. She promised to be there for him, to be a rock when his storm was too strong. Rough palms rested on large hips, his pure breeding making him a perfect example of what an orc was. She pulled him in closer, the heat from their form resonating against each other. With that final promise, she pulled him down into a fierce kiss that burned with passion. Like the finest drink, it burned down his throat and warmed his core and offered reassurance that he had not expected from their days of travel together. The branch was released but arms wrapped around him, keeping him afloat in the flood.

The kiss deepened, dark lips desperately trying to taste the truth again and again from one another's lips. The quiet warrior could not give a damn who could see or hear them as sharp teeth bite upon her plush, bottom lip. The growl that followed rolled with a hunger, deep and low like an storm rolling over the mountains of Belzken Hold to sweep the badlands with rain and thunder. The hands upon her hips slipped behind her, caressing pliant yet covered skin. With a suddenly firm grip, he would lift her in his arms and carry her like the prize she was back to the camp. Not a word was said to the caravaners, who grinned and watched; the twins elbowing each other at the sheer volume of jokes that they would have at her expense. None of that mattered as Baradim took her to her tent, no hesitation in his step, and closed the canvas flap with his free hand.

~~~AN INTERRUPTION~~~

The very last thing that Baradim wanted to hear at that very moment was the sound of Drake's voice calling for him. The second time he shouted his name, there was an actual growl quite akin to the bear from the nearby tent.

"Fine. Fine. I'm coming." The irritated voice of the party's favorite grumpy orc could be heard. Opening the canvas, Baradim stepped out in a pair of trousers and nothing else. In the camp's fire, his green skin showed off the uncountable number of scars, both ritualistically done and earned in combat, that decorated his form. The dozen of small holy symbols hung on his neck between his dark, hairy chest. Those black-yellow eyes were burning with obvious frustration until he looked upon his comrades. There was fear, anger, and more roiling in Inniska and Drake's eyes. Finoan was a little bit harder to read. Something serious had occurred.

"What is it, what happened?" The tall, burly orc asked as his anger faded away in an instant as the situation was explained. Inniska's captors had returned for her with a taunting message. His brows closed in in a show of angry consternation, his upper lip snarling gently.

"There are those quiet enough that could've made their way in. Speak with the elf, she is a tracker and may have noticed something." Baradim said to Drake, his tone growing disciplined as the soldier in him came out. He approached Inniska and placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her. Thankfully, they were friends. Smiling orcs were an intimidating sight even with the friendly demeanor.

"Do not be afraid. She is no Whispering Tyrant. They taunt you so you make a mistake. We stay the course and if any come up, I'll cut their heads off and send them back to her." The smile remained and it was difficult to tell whether the orcish man was joking or not. Her telepathic message was delivered to him and he subtly nodded, not saying a word. He adored Tamli but if there was an enemy that was stalking Inniska, she'd be safer knowing less of the truth. He couldn't imagine putting his faith in her and having her be ripped apart. He'd make this woman's ribcage into an altar to Tamli.

"I am not a half-orc." Baradim said, shaking his head. "I am an orc. Hence my...comments in anger." Baradim says softly, nodding in response to what the ranger was saying. "You will come with us. You can read minds, quite useful in merchant deals."

I literally never even looked at your race and just assumed. Not use to actual "orcs" being played. That's on me. My bad. :P

"I am not a half-orc." Baradim said, shaking his head. "I am an orc."

Putting a hand to his mouth, "Oh. Sorry. My apologies."

"They are going to have to go through Heaven and Hell to get to you. And even if they make it that far, they are still going to have to deal with us." He grins softly. "I can promise you this, my love, they will feel our wrath if they don't give up this endeavor."

She grabbed his face when he kissed her forehead and pulled him lower for a real one, keeping it brief for Fin's sake but pouring everything she was feeling into it. She loved this man. This wonderful, beautiful man.

"Baradim! Baradim!"

Niss felt a hint of the emotion coming from the tent -- a clear sign of its intensity as she could not feel such things casually -- and she tried to quiet Drake but it was too late. She supposed, all things considered, this was important enough not to wait, but she still felt a pang of guilt for interrupting.

. He approached Inniska and placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her. Thankfully, they were friends. Smiling orcs were an intimidating sight even with the friendly demeanor.

Do not be afraid. She is no Whispering Tyrant. They taunt you so you make a mistake. We stay the course and if any come up, I'll cut their heads off and send them back to her."

She laid one hand atop his and gave a grateful nod. "I think she wants me to run. I very nearly did. But I don't want to do her bidding again. So we stay, and we do as planned. We get to the bottom of things and help the town like we agreed, before departing. Word has it, you'll have competition on the head thing, if her goons come back." She managed a weak smile.

Fin nods, then addresses Tamli. "I am going to be otherwise occupied tonight, so if you want a watch, you will need to assign it to someone else. My apologies."

He looks at Baradim next. "I wanted to at least let you know where we would be, but if you want to stay here with the camp, I think we could handle things on our own. Though I'm definitely not going to turn you down if you decide to join us."

Finoan heads off back towards the town. Then changes direction and heads to the Dead Houses. "Well, let's see if we can find something at least marginally comfortable and clean.

Tamli didn't follow Baradim out, but I will assume Baradim tells her Fin's not on guard whether he's going with you all or not.

It's easy enough to find somewhere suitable in the Dead Homes. While many are dilapidated beyond repair--almost as bad as Dead Willow--one or two of the homes held some intact inner rooms; sturdy ones, easily defensible should it turn to that. The one The Princess Guard (with or without their favorite grumpy orc) chose was more or less free of anything too horrible...it seemed that squatters and pests had kept away from the chosen space.

Under Finoan's watchful eye, the rest of the night passes rather uneventfully. It is difficult to get comfortable after several nights of sleeping in a comfortable enough bed; however, even in the face of her worst fears, the love and strength that her companions pour into her drown out the worst of the intrusive thoughts, and Niss falls into a restful, dreamless sleep wrapped up in Drake's arms.

When the morning comes, so do typical town noises: people waking up, children crying, townsfolk walking by and gossiping about this and that. Even a town as depressed as Etran's Folly holds a sense of normalcy that holds steady in the face of poisonings, blights, and unseen threats.

Whatcha guys gonna do?

When morning arrives, Finoan meets with the others. "We did promise Noala that we would inspect the blighted forest area. We should stop by the Feedmill for breakfast and to meet up with Noala there, unless you have something more pressing to deal with."

Niss awoke feeling... different. Something deep within her had shifted last night.

She had been able to distract herself from being hunted these past few days, for the most part. They had clear goals to accomplish, a murder to stop, and little choice in the matter if they wished to leave town. She'd also been caught up with her feelings for Drake, who often made it hard to think of anything else. Whenever she had let her thoughts drift to her predicament, the cold pit of terror there led her to rapidly latch onto something else.

Last night she'd faced it head on, and it had nearly consumed her. But thanks to her friends, she had wrestled it under control -- not to ignore it like before, but to wield it.

She'd escaped physically just over a week ago. Last night she'd broken free from mental shackles she hadn't realized were still there.

Niss gave Drake a loving squeeze before sitting up, wiping sleep from her face. Her hair was a mess, so she took a moment to braid it. She nodded at Fin's words. "Sounds like a plan."

"I will...join you later." Baradim offered, not willing to expand anymore on the details. When they had left to go seek appropriate cover, Baradim would begin his return to the tent. The twins gave him cheeky grins until he glanced at them. They wisely looked away and found the opportunity to do anything but look into that hard stare.

"Sajnálom szerelmem. A dolgok bonyolulttá váltak." Baradim whispered in that harsh tongue before the linen trousers fell from his hips and he returned to the warm embrace of her furs and her arms. In the night, he would explain the situation except for where Inniska had gone. The caravan would need to be on watch, scornful enemies were watching them.

In the morning, Baradim awoke without a nightmare for once. Asleep on the breast of the woman who still slept now, he would sit up with an quietness that was uncomfortable for one of his size. No tremors, no sweats, nothing but a strange sensation in his chest. It was being at ease, a sensation that felt so foreign now.

"Seems I am on the right path, comrades." Baradim whispered down to the menagerie of amulets and symbols that hung on his neck. Grabbing them for strength, he would rise up and take the long, black hair that sat in waves and began to tie it up in its topknot once more.

The soldier would don his armor once more, eat with the caravan quietly but share a grin with them all as they chuckled softly. When Tamli finally rose from the tent, he would be finishing collecting his gear.

"Today, we hunt the sources of the blight. Perhaps it will take us to this mastermind. We will find her, eliminate her, and free this town from its suffering." His eyes would look towards her as the last words left his lips. "Then...our future."

"Before I go though..." Baradim says, just before he leaves the camp. "I know you were carrying more things than just those supplies. I'd buy them at fair price if they could help us. Show me please."

Only spoilering for length. Nothing secret here.

Moving along...

The Feedmill is quiet this morning; the smells of the morning's offerings suggest porridge - sweet or savory, depending on the tastes of the customers. There is also a little bit of game meat, courtesy of Noala's efforts.

Delma is standing near a table where a very old man sits--his hair is thinned and white, age spots on his face and hands, and he sits with a posture that suggests he carried himself with confidence and power in his youth. They both glance over at the door as The Princess Guard enters, and Delma waves you all over.

"This is my father, Targen Fulst. He might be able to tell you about Vilree. You all want breakfast?" She gestures for you all to sit, if you so desire, and will take your order and leave, should you want to eat.

Noala is also there, sitting at the bar with an empty plate in front of her and steaming mug of tea in her hands. She gives a small wave as you all enter, but doesn't get up to move unless invited over.

Niss can't help but scan the face of every person they pass on the street, and every face within the tavern. She was back in control of herself, but someone here had left Palina's message. She watched for anyone behaving suspiciously, or anyone keeping too close of an eye on them.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

"Please, " Niss responds to the breakfast inquiry. She smiles brightly at Delma's father. She was fairly certain he, at least, was not a suspect. "Good morning, sir. It's very kind of you to join us. What do you recall of this Vilree woman? I bet you have all sorts of stories about this place's people and history."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Niss doesn't see or feel anything odd--the same people she had seen the day before in the morning were here, enjoying their breakfast. Delma goes off to grab plates for those who wanted them, leaving the group with Targen.

In response to Niss's politeness, Targen cracks a toothless grin and chuckles. "No need to butter me up, girl. I'm happy to tell someone new all these tales. First, who am I speaking to?" He asks, his deep voice trembling slightly.

After the group introduces themselves, Targen will nod sagely and lean forward in his seat, hunched slightly. "Vilree...hm. Silwyth's bastard daughter." He leans back, his gaze going distant as he recounts the tale. "20 years ago, when the plague came to Etran's Folly, people were looking for someone to blame. Anyone. Father Bolgrist suspected that Silwyth had something to do with it...a local witch. She lived on the edge of town and dabbled in potions. Raised Vilree by herself. Girl's a half-elf. Anyway, with the Father's accusation, people turned on the woman. They would throw things at her house, break in to vandalize things, and just generally hassle her as punishment for this crime they had accused her of. Right up until Silwyth came down with the plague herself. Her daughter, Vilree, was the only one who was able to take care of her, and even then, the town shunned her. Because of this, when Silwyth died, she cursed the town's only priest - Father Bolgrist - who caught the plague soon after and died himself." Targen heaves a sigh and shakes his head slowly. "A shame. Father Bolgrist was a good man. Vilree stuck around for a few more years, then disappeared. She was young then. Nobody looked for her...we were happy to see her go." Targen stops, taking a deep drink of his mug of steaming hot tea, and regards the group carefully.

"Nobody ever really found out what caused the plague, but Vilree and Silwyth aren't remembered fondly. I don't know much more than that...never got to know the witch very well," He says, referring to Silwyth.

Baradim joins the others and tells them that the caravan's goods are available to them. He even shows the few that he had purchased himself.

I'll definitely be getting a potion at the very least. We may want to talk in Discussion about expenditures and stuff; some nice things are in the caravan's inventory.

The orc was glad to see that the others had not suffered in the night at all and were relatively unmolested, if looking a little worse for wear. The warrior walked just a little bit lighter, ignoring the nail marks that were consistently rubbing along his back. Reaching the Feedmill, Baradim made sure to stand that much closer to Niss as they arrived. There was no doubt to Drake's skill with his hatchets but there was doubting the advantage of a six foot and four inch tall orc standing beside her either.

They arrived at the table where Targen awaited them. The toothless elder began to yarn them a tale but as the story grew on, Baradim's concern grew more and more. This story told him much of their supposed villain and her motives behind it.

"That story, it doesn't make sense." Baradim mutters, shaking his head. "Why would you outcast one who dabbled in potions? Shamans were wise and skilled at healing, she could've helped where your priest failed. Instead, they were ostracized and when a mother died, the town left the child to struggle on her own." There was a tinge of disgust in the orc's voice as he folded his thick arms. "No wonder she would want to kill you all. I understand her feelings."

Lastwall was not kind at first and even to its fall, there were those who gazed at him with hatred. A half-orc was a tragedy and a warning, a full-blooded orc was the enemy. There were more than a handful of times where he worked to protect those who hated him.

"Where was Silwyth's home? Is it amidst the abandoned houses or somewhere else?"

Drake wrote:

"They are going to have to go through Heaven and Hell to get to you. And even if they make it that far, they are still going to have to deal with us." He grins softly. "I can promise you this, my love, they will feel our wrath if they don't give up this endeavor."

She grabbed his face when he kissed her forehead and pulled him lower for a real one, keeping it brief for Fin's sake but pouring everything she was feeling into it. She loved this man. This wonderful, beautiful man.

Taken a bit by surprise as he was not expecting that, the ranger breaks into a wide grin. "Now that's my girl."

She laid one hand atop his and gave a grateful nod. "I think she wants me to run. I very nearly did. But I don't want to do her bidding again. So we stay, and we do as planned. We get to the bottom of things and help the town like we agreed, before departing. Word has it, you'll have competition on the head thing, if her goons come back." She managed a weak smile.

With his arms crossed, Drake lets out a huff before turning to the ORC ;) and bobbing his head in agreement.

Niss gave Drake a loving squeeze before sitting up, wiping sleep from her face. Her hair was a mess, so she took a moment to braid it. She nodded at Fin's words. "Sounds like a plan."

Awakening due to Niss's stirring, he smiles at her loving gesture when she rises to get ready. He then rises himself and readies for the day.

When morning arrives, Finoan meets with the others. "We did promise Noala that we would inspect the blighted forest area. We should stop by the Feedmill for breakfast and to meet up with Noala there, unless you have something more pressing to deal with."

Shaking his head, "Nope. Niss said it best. Sounds good."

The Feedmill is quiet this morning; the smells of the morning's offerings suggest porridge - sweet or savory, depending on the tastes of the customers. There is also a little bit of game meat, courtesy of Noala's efforts.

Delma is standing near a table where a very old man sits--his hair is thinned and white, age spots on his face and hands, and he sits with a posture that suggests he carried himself with confidence and power in his youth. They both glance over at the door as The Princess Guard enters, and Delma waves you all over.

"This is my father, Targen Fulst. He might be able to tell you about Vilree. You all want breakfast?" She gestures for you all to sit, if you so desire, and will take your order and leave, should you want to eat.

Noala is also there, sitting at the bar with an empty plate in front of her and a steaming mug of tea in her hands. She gives a small wave as you all enter, but doesn't get up to move unless invited over.

Making their way to the table, Drake catches sight of Noala's wave and motions her over, mouthing the words, "Come sit with us, please." He nods.

Finding a seat next to Niss, he raises a hand slightly at Delma. "If you would, please, Delma, I'll have a bit of the game for breakfast and the hot tea. Thank you."

He then listens to the tale from the old man.

"Wow. That's interesting. Hard to disagree with Baradim though. They accused her and it sounds like they never even gave her a chance to defend herself." Dragging his hands down his face before resting his elbows on the table and lightly bouncing the tips of his fingers off one hand and against the other, "This town continues to not surprise me."

Finoan comes in and sits at the table with Targen and is glad to see that Drake beckoned Noala over as well.

Listening to Targen's tale, Fin sighs. "I could see several ways that Vilree would likely respond to that. None of them are happy, though some are more beneficial than others."

"But I really won't know until we can actually talk to Vilree."

Noala happily joins, sitting by Finoan with one leg crossed over the other, sipping her tea with mild amusement on her face. She was more than familiar with the old man and his attitude.

Targen narrows his eyes at all of them, immediately suspicious of those who didn’t share his prejudices. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, suddenly rather guarded in the face of scrutiny. ”She wasn’t a shaman, she was a witch. And she kept to herself enough, on the edges of town, fueding with Father Bolgrist, that there was no reason to trust her or anything she had to say about the plague. Many people died.” Targen shifts again, a long, low groan escaping his lips as he moves.

Delma returns with food, approaching from behind her father, and rolls her eyes sympathetically at her father, gesturing hopelessly.

Targen continues, irritation coloring his tone. ”Her home has long since fallen. Nothing’s left of it.” He turns to his daughter, who is setting food on the table, and pulls himself to his feet, leaning heavily on a cane he was holding in his lap. ”Take me home. Next time some outsiders want stories, tell them to ask Flonk.” Delma sighs and nods, waving him away to wait for her while she finishes up with The Princess Guard.

”He’s not lying about the home. It was razed to the ground after Vilree left. They thought it would help keep the plague from returning.” Delma’s voice drops low so her father doesn’t hear. ”Erda knows a little more. Her family’s been here for generations. I’d stop in the stables before you go and tell her I sent you.”

Delma leaves the table with an apologetic smile and leads her father out of The Feedmill.

Noala shifts in her seat to regard the group, eyebrows raised. ”It’s remarkable that Delma turned out as well as she did. I suppose you’ll want to speak to Erda before you leave? That’ll give me time to gather my things. We’ll be headed back to the copse I showed you before. I did some scouting and it seems to be where things have originated.”

You can stop Targen if you wanna chew him out or anything. ;)

"Erda and I have gotten along fairly well so far. Can't hurt to ask."

Niss knew Erda was not a big people person, but at the moment, her three bodyguards were doing much to calm her nerves, so she was not about to leave them behind for the sake of the halfling's social anxiety. "Maybe wait just inside the stable doors, hm?"

-----Stables ------

"Erda? Good morning! I know this will likely seem like a very random question... But Delma said you might be able to tell us about the woman called Vilree? We heard about the unfortunate way things were handled by the town, regarding the blame for the plague..."

diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

Fin has learned a long time ago to not argue against prejudice and superstition. He watches and listens passively as Targen finishes speaking and leaves.

"Yes, perhaps Erda would have more reliable information." He nods to Niss. "You have been on good terms with her, perhaps you could speak with her on the matter."

-----Stables ------

"Erda? Good morning! I know this will likely seem like a very random question... But Delma said you might be able to tell us about the woman called Vilree? We heard about the unfortunate way things were handled by the town, regarding the blame for the plague..."

As Niss enters, Erda is brushing the caravan's horses. The halfling jumps a little bit at the noise, but quickly calms down and smiles at the psychic. "Um...If that's what you want, I can tell you about Silwyth a bit..." She runs her fingers through her hair, huffing while she thinks.

"Vilree wasn't blamed. Silwyth, her mom was. It was stupid. Silwyth was trying to cure the plague, and Father Bolgrist started to blame her because her cures weren't working. Then the town turned on her! Some of us tried to help..." She shrugs helplessly.

"Then she got sick and couldn't even finish her work curing the plague. Vilree was stuck in there for a while with her mom's body." Erda shivers at the thought. "It's no wonder she ran off."

Nah. He's old. That'd just be mean. Annnnnd cue Baradim *points* ;)

"Erda and I have gotten along fairly well so far. Can't hurt to ask."

Nodding, "Yeah, okay, let's do that."

"Erda and I have gotten along fairly well so far. Can't hurt to ask."

Niss knew Erda was not a big people person, but at the moment, her three bodyguards were doing much to calm her nerves, so she was not about to leave them behind for the sake of the halfling's social anxiety. "Maybe wait just inside the stable doors, hm?"

"Sure. We'll be right here." He says, smiling.

As Niss enters, Erda is brushing the caravan's horses. The halfling jumps a little bit at the noise, but quickly calms down and smiles at the psychic. "Um...If that's what you want, I can tell you about Silwyth a bit..." She runs her fingers through her hair, huffing while she thinks.

"Vilree wasn't blamed. Silwyth, her mom was. It was stupid. Silwyth was trying to cure the plague, and Father Bolgrist started to blame her because her cures weren't working. Then the town turned on her! Some of us tried to help..." She shrugs helplessly.

"Then she got sick and couldn't even finish her work curing the plague. Vilree was stuck in there for a while with her mom's body." Erda shivers at the thought. "It's no wonder she ran off."

Niss frowned. "That's awful... How old was Vilree when that happened?"

"Around 6 or 7 years old, I'm afraid."

"Around 6 or 7 years old, I'm afraid."

Fin shakes his head at that, but says nothing.

"Poor child. I'm beginning to really dislike this town-- present company excluded, of course. Does anyone have the faintest idea where she may have gone?"

...f@++ that guy. <3

Baradim's glare begins to grow as the man tries to justify himself. Shaking his head, he scoffed quietly.

"Your priest was an idiot and directed your anger towards an outsider rather than working with another to cure the plague. The dead are on his hands and those who chose the weaker path. The dead are on his hands and yours." There was no kindness in his words as the older man rose. Men like him would screech until they choked rather than believe themselves wrong. His time was coming and he would be judged like all of them were when they arrived in the Boneyard. A kinder expression came to his face when Delma offered them another lead.

"Thank you Delma. You are a credit to this place." Rising from his seat, Baradim followed Niss out of the building to the stable. Waiting within the doors, there was another scoff as he learned the girl's age. She was a child, a child caring for a dying woman alone while a town hated here. He could not blame her vendetta against this place.

While Niss discusses things with Erda, Fin quietly talks to Baradim and Drake at the other side of the barn.

"So what are the odds that the 'V' character is Vilree? It is looking pretty good at the moment, but we don't actually have much evidence for it. I feel quite a bit of sympathy for the young girl, but I don't know what type of woman she has grown into. She could be the one behind all of the problems, or she could be working behind the scenes trying to fix things - as Noala is."

With a shake of his head, "No idea, Fin, that's a good question. I'd have to agree it looks like it's her. Nobody has mentioned anybody else with a name that starts with 'V'. I'm thinking the only way we're going to find out is to find her. That'll be easier said than done. And if we do find her, I can only imagine the reception we're going to get," he says ominously.

"Maybe it is fortunate that a couple of us clearly look like people that would not be readily accepted by the more closed minded members of the town. It is possible that we wouldn't be immediately attacked on sight."

Stroking his chin in thought as he rests his elbow on his other hand, "It is possible, I won't disagree. Maybe if we go in slow and nonthreatening that might make a difference, instead of going in with weapons drawn." He shrugs. "Obviously we've no idea if she keeps up with who's a local and who's not, but, hopefully we would appear as out-of-towners to her and maybe that'll be enough to at least make her hesitant and want to question us. Yeah, it's a possibility. Heck, the way I see it, as well as things have been going for us in this town," the sarcasm plainly clear in his tone, "there's really no place to go but up." He shrugs again, grinning tiredly.

"Poor child. I'm beginning to really dislike this town-- present company excluded, of course. Does anyone have the faintest idea where she may have gone?"

Erda shakes her head with pursed lips, shrugging. "No idea. She just disappeared."

Niss sighed. The woman had to be somewhere. The note had mentioned arranging a drop off point at a stump somewhere, maybe they could find it? Or perhaps the ruins of her home held some clue. "Well, thank you, Erda. If you happen upon anyone who looks like her, only grown up, please let us know. For that matter...if you spot anyone behaving strangely, I'd love to hear about it. We had a little break-in last night that I'd very much like to solve."

She returns to the others. "Well I'm not sure how much that helped, other than to confirm this town is the worst. I'm not saying that excuses poisoning people, but I can sympathize with this Vilree. It's little wonder she ended up on a dark path."

Niss sighed. The woman had to be somewhere. The note had mentioned arranging a drop off point at a stump somewhere, maybe they could find it? Or perhaps the ruins of her home held some clue. "Well, thank you, Erda. If you happen upon anyone who looks like her, only grown up, please let us know. For that matter...if you spot anyone behaving strangely, I'd love to hear about it. We had a little break-in last night that I'd very much like to solve."

Erda nods, smiling at the psychic. "I'll keep an eye out for you!" She says cheerfully, returning to brushing out the horses as Niss leaves the stables.

Whatcha doing next?

"Even if she has been slighted, her poisoning must be stopped. Not everyone here is guilty." Baradim says softly, rising from his leaning position against the stable doors. Rolling his shoulders, he nods. "To Noala and into the woods? That may be the best place to start our hunt."

Niss nods her agreement with Baradim, and slips her hand into Drake's to keep anxious thoughts at bay.

"Yes, let's not keep Noala waiting too long. Hopefully we can figure out what is causing the blight."

Finoan heads back into the Feedmill and finds Noala. "Well, we still don't have much of a solid understanding of who Vilree is currently, but we at least understand her history. If we can swing by the caravan on the way out, that would be good. Other than that, I think we are ready to go."

"Even if she has been slighted, her poisoning must be stopped. Not everyone here is guilty." Baradim says softly, rising from his leaning position against the stable doors. Rolling his shoulders, he nods. "To Noala and into the woods? That may be the best place to start our hunt."

"Sounds good."

Niss nods her agreement with Baradim, and slips her hand into Drake's to keep anxious thoughts at bay.

As Niss slips her hand in his, he smiles and takes a hold of it firmly, finding great comfort in it.

Taking Fin's excellent advice to cut to Noala leading you guys out. <3

After various preparations, The Princess Guard and Noala approach the edge of the rotten copse of trees, the sickly sweet scent of rot and decay assailing their senses.

Noala pauses at the edge of the grove, looking around, and then gestures off to the left. "That's where I set my snares last time. It's where I can wait and keep you all out of trouble from the outside as much as possible." She keeps her voice low out of caution. The elf grasps her bandaged hand and massages it, frowning. "I'm afraid I'm not much help in close quarters."

In the center of the rotting clearing is a trio of small, sickly-looking thorn bushes grouped together.

Beyond the thorny bushes is a path toward the remains of an unfathomably massive tree and, under its roots, there appears to be a small cave.

Thanks Noala. Let's go see what we can find out in here."

Fin moves into the blighted forest area keeping an eye on things that he sees.

"Um... I may not be a botanist, but I don't remember any type of plants that move that quickly." Fin points to a carcass that looks like it is crawling with worms. Worms made of plants.

And assuming that I am understanding the That's Odd text correctly, that means that we should be able to make one round of attack before the combat initiative order. Yes?

Assuming so, I would go with:

Finoan, not liking the look of these very mobile plants, launches a marble sized orb of compressed water at the nearest one. Then moves to the side slightly to get out of the way of Inniska's heavy artillery.

◆◆ Spout on Red bush.
Spout: 5 foot square area. Basic Reflex save DC 18.
Damage (bludgeoning): 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5

Yes, you are correct Fin.