| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Electricity scars across the stony skin of the warrior, the monstrosity writhing in pain from the battering it had received. It stumbled back some, leaving its chest open. The orc had no idea if the abomination had the same anatomy as any other humanoid but with a wide enough slash, he was sure he could find the heart.
Cutting down the monstrosity, its blackened ichor spraying onto the orc fighter, he would turn his attention towards the woman that was the source of all this pain and suffering. Cycles had to come to an end and if that meant she must die for his promise to remain true, then he would.
With heavy footsteps, he approached the alchemist while twirling the magical blade in his bloodied hand. Tilting his head, those black-yellow eyes would stare down at her.
"Surrender or die. I care not which." He was too slow to be able to strike again, his blows missing but keeping her on her toes. If she tried to break away though, he would punish her for it.
Finoan's bomb exploded against the monstrosity, catching it off guard and leaving it deadly vulnerable to Baradim's strike. The orc's sword slices through the horror's flesh and it collapses with a pathetic, wailing shriek before going limp.
Vilree snarls at Baradim and backs away, deciding to risk the orc's potential strike. She dodges his attack smoothly, his sword swinging past the half-elf as she twists her body away.
She stares down the four of you, her face twisting into a contemptuous sneer. "There is no surrender. I've already won. As soon as you killed my first construct, I sent off my minion to destroy the town. Everyone will be dead long before you ever get there!"
Vilree reloads her crossbow and takes a shot at Baradim to punctuate her own little speech. Her shot goes wide and she makes a frustrated sound, bracing herself for the onslaught.
"There is no surrender. I've already won. As soon as you killed my first construct, I sent off my minion to destroy the town."
Fin shakes his head a bit annoyed. "Yeah, I expected something like that. Irritating, but not irrecoverable."
As the bolt buries itself in his side, Drake grunts through gritted teeth before moving himself closer to his target and launches a fire bomb at her before following that with a hammer.
= 22
It was time to end this. She'd conserved her strength, and this was the time to use it. They need to end Vilree's threat and catch whatever she'd sent to town.
Niss moves closer and launches her hatchet at Vilree at incredible speed, but the woman dives aside before it strikes.
Drake's fire bomb, followed by his thrown hammer hit Vilree dead on: the flask explodes against her chest, and the hammer soon follows, knocking the wind out of her. Her cloth armor catches fire and, in a daze, she doesn't notice .
Vilree looked annoyed at Finoan's lack of shocked or aghast reaction and reloads her crossbow with another firebomb and fires off a shot at Baradim.
Vilree grins when it impacts Baradim, the firebomb shot spreading searing, burning liquid across the orc's shoulder. She reloads her crossbow and tries again, still aiming at Baradim.
Fin glares at Vilree for a second. He mutters mostly to himself, "Only one good way to deal with one ranged attacker."
He sprints across the stone floor. "Pardon me. Coming through," he comments as he dashes past Drake and Baradim. He keeps running and crashes directly into Vilree's knees.
The crowbow bolts crash into Baradim, flames covering him for a moment before Vilree grins. The smile dies slowly as Baradim comes out of the attack faring better than he should. Little trickles of blood emerge from where the expert shots hit, his body still as tough as stone. Baradim looks down at his singed but still relatively healthy form and nods
"Seems you're too good. Your alchemy speaks for itself." The orc says with a grim, tusky smile as he marches up along the way. With his blade in hand, he follows the automaton's trip attempt with a heavy downward slash.
"Stay still. I can send you to your mother painlessly if you wish." Baradim growls low, lifting his blade back up and thrusting it down aiming for her chest.
Niss, still in her heightened form, oozing power from every pore, sees Vilree go down. Knowing it's harder to hit a person at range while they are down she instead unleashing the burst of power towards Drake, soothing his wounds, just in case things go poorly.
With that, she burns herself out a bit, and the headache descends upon her. She grits her teeth as she fights it off.
Feeling many of his wounds heal up nicely, Drake grins. "Thank you, my love. Now let's see if we can put an end to this psycho." Drake unloads a barrage of hammers at the woman, hoping to put an end to the menace.
Drake rolls his eyes as he finds his aim horribly off.
Finoan slams into Vilree, knocking her to the floor with surprise. Then, Baradim's blade came down on Vilree, who managed to keep him from stabbing right into her chest, deflecting the blow to hit her shoulder, instead. She hissed with pain, managing to avoid Drake's three thrown hammers.
The half-elf looked briefly panicked and scrambled to her feet, dodging a blow from Baradim while she dances backward and desperately lobs a flask of alchemist's fire at Baradim.
Finoan flinches a bit as the fire bomb explodes nearby. The flames nearly singing him as well.
He glares as Vilree flees. "And where, exactly, do you think you are going?" Fin mumbles mostly to himself.
Fin ◆runs after Vilree aiming for her knees again, then changes things up at the last second and launches himself claws first at center body mass.
"Oh no you don't!" Drake follows right after Vilree, drawing more hammers and launching them.
Baradim's shield lifts, catching the fiery potion from doing its worse, but he is still singed and the heat is slowly wearing him down as it burns upon him. The heavy mutation upon him slows him down as he moves further and further along the way after her. He could see the wear and tear upon her; one good strike would finally put this to an end. Chasing her down though was becoming problematic and he could his own injuries beginning to mount up.
"Enough of this! Die already!" Baradim shouted, slashing hard and fast at her midsection to spill her open upon the dirty, alchemical floor.
Strike the blow deep across his stomach, red spilling forth and the lining of her innards exposed, he stops halfway and thrusts the blade deep into her. The sound of metal, even enchanted to be sharp, is an awful one to hear as it cuts through bone and muscle.
"That is enough. That is enough. You've done enough." Baradim whispers into her ear before he lowers down and thrusts his blade upwards into the more vital organs. It would be painful but mercifully quick; too much trauma for a body to handle. Vilree's death would come swiftly and her judgement too, would come in time.
Niss breathes a sigh of relief -- it may not be entirely over, as it seemed they had a minion to stop and a town still to save.... But Vilree would not hurt anyone else.
Speaking of hurt, Baradim looked it. Niss made her way to the orc's side, slowly, waiting for her headache to fade before trying to heal him with the wand.
As the orc's blade slides deep into her chest cavity, Vilree Eldara dies unceremoniously--cold, alone, without knowing if her revenge had been taken or not.
On Vilree's body, you find an alchemical crossbow, 2pp, 38gp, 4sp, bracers of missile deflection, 2 daggers, a key, leather armor, a lesser potion of fire resistance, a flask of lesser juggernaut mutagen, another flask of lesser stone body mutagen, a +1 striking dagger, and a moderate acid energy mutagen. She also carries 3 moderate acid flasks, 3 moderate alchemists' fire, 2 moderate bottled lightning, 3 lesser elixirs of life, and 2 lesser tanglefoot bags.
If Vilree's claim was true, a drudge was on its way to Etran's Folly, carrying the key to releasing the cached Viridian Vapor and murdering everyone in town, and it had a head start.
Fin watches with only mild amounts of irritation as Baradim slays Vilree with as much compassion as is possible given the circumstances. She was never going to tell them what path her servant was taking - much less actually call them back from their task.
He quickly searches Vilree's body looking for information. He shovels the coins and most of the alchemical items into his pack, though he hands the stone body mutagen to Baradim. "This worked quite well for you. Might as well have another."
He also takes a good look at the key that Vilree had - comparing it to the others that they have found to see if it is a duplicate or a new key.
"There are a few potions that look like they heal - if anyone wants to trust them. Also a nice looking dagger and the fancy crossbow that Vilree was shooting alchemy at us with."
He sighs in exasperation. "But nothing to indicate where this servant went. Or even what it is. Possibly another of those homunculus constructs - though I am not entirely sure how long they would continue working after their master's death. Though there is still no guarantee that Vilree is actually the one that created them."
He looks at the others. "Well, any of you any good at tracking? I'm certainly not. We might split up a bit. I can head back to town and warn the people. Maybe get a perimeter set up. Watch the water supplies. That type of thing."
With as much respect as he could, he lays the young half-elven woman down to the ground. A product of her childhood, of pain, and of violence. There could be little difference between the two of them had his life taken a different pathway. He stands up and cleans his blade off on her clothing that still remained unstained, sheathing it and his shield. Taking the mutagen, he slips it onto his small, makeshift potion belt and nods.
"Almost done. Just one more left." The orc says softly, leaving her amidst her creations. He feels his wounds soothe and the familiar presence of Niss within his mind, her warm heart and soft thoughts easing his muscles of their fatigue. He gives her an appreciative nod before opening open one of the elixirs of life and chugging it down.
"I used to hunt. I doubt this creature is using coy methods to hide itself. We can take the horses and hunt for a trail." Baradim offers, moving back outside. His pace is slow as the rocky mutagen finally begins to fall apart off of him.
"We will need to search through those notes. Find a way to aid the orcs. They could help track the beast." Baradim will suggest as he saddles onto his horse, making way first for the orcs' camp.
"I used to hunt. I doubt this creature is using coy methods to hide itself. We can take the horses and hunt for a trail."
"OK. Let's see if we can find that trail. If not, we can adjust our plans."
On the way out, Fin searches through the room where the first horror was. Checking to see if there is anything else of note. He gathers up any more of the alchemical stuff that looks both valuable and safe to handle. He also checks if there is any more notes or research records other than the first book that he was looking through initially.
Other than that, Fin just follows Baradim and the others out of the compound.
Niss follows the others, lingering a moment and holding out a hand to Drake. "Ready to finish this, love?". She glanced past him to where Baradim had laid Vilree's body. "I was so worried coming here... And in the end? I almost feel bad for her. All her planning and defenses didn't amount to much.".
Niss follows the others, lingering a moment and holding out a hand to Drake. "Ready to finish this, love?". She glanced past him to where Baradim had laid Vilree's body. "I was so worried coming here... And in the end? I almost feel bad for her. All her planning and defenses didn't amount to much.".
Smiling, Drake takes his wife's hand and gives it a loving squeeze. "Gods yes, sweetheart. Let's end this and get the hell out of here. The sooner the better."
Finoan finds nothing new in all the materials he had perused before; still the same rantings that pointed toward the fact that there was a cache of viridian vapor within the stone in the center of Etran's Folly, just waiting for the drudge to set it off.
its way toward Etran’s Folly. Miles pass, minutes turn to hours, and the unsuspecting town grows ever closer. Vilree’s alchemical servant never seems to tire, and there is no sign that it ever stops for food or rest, but it does seem the distance is closing. The trail looks more and more recent.
Just as Etran’s Folly comes into view, so does Vilree’s drudge. It is close to the town but, with haste, it is still possible to catch it before it can complete its grim task.
Finoan finds nothing new in all the materials he had perused before; still the same rantings that pointed toward the fact that there was a cache of viridian vapor within the stone in the center of Etran's Folly, just waiting for the drudge to set it off.
"Hah. That's what I missed the first time." Fin snaps the book shut and shoves it in his pack again. "That's the target. That ugly rock the town has propped up like a monument in the center of town."
Fin impatiently follows along behind the ones doing the tracking. "If we can find this thing's tracks, great. We can catch it before it gets anywhere near town. If not, we can head it off and get to the target before it does."
"I'm on it, Fin." Drake takes a moment, studies the area, thinks he notices something and nearly calls out but holds, realizing that's nothing more than deer tracks. Almost blew that one.
Taking another look around...
...he finally spots it. "Got it! Let's catch this thing and finish it off. C'mon! We've no time to lose."
Niss smiles, watching Drake at work. Where she saw nothing but dirt, grass, and bushes, he seemed able to work out the history of the place, as if seeing the past overlaid upon the present. Tiny impressions, broken twigs, scuffs on trees, all telling him a story. She loved watching him at work.
He led them methodically back to town -- it was a gamble, they all knew. Riding ahead of the creature would guarantee they beat it to town -- but they'd have to meet it at the stone itself, the perimeter of town too large to cover entirely. If Drake could track it though, before it got to town, the confrontation would be much less dangerous.
The closer they got to town the colder the pit in her stomach became. Would they be too late? She kept glancing at Baradim. Tamli was back there, and she didn't need to use her powers to know that was at the forefront of his mind.
Finally, Drake pointed the creature out. Niss rushes with the others to intercept it.
Finoan also gets a bit antsy as the day goes on. But the trackers are still doing their tracking thing, so he leaves them to it.
As soon as the drudge comes into view, Fin urges his horse forward into a run and starts planning exactly where they will intercept the construct, as well as when and how to get off of this horse so that he can fight more effectively.
The Princess Guard tracked the alchemical drudge quickly and easily, able to follow the tracks with ease with the help of the horses they had ridden to Spite's Cradle. Despite the relative ease of the chase, there is a tense, uncomfortable atmosphere in the air--the lives of everyone in Etran's Folly hangs in the balance; depends on their ability to keep tracking this creature and stop it.
After a few hours of tracking, The Princess Guard arrives at Etran's Folly at the same time as the alchemical drudge. You all dismount your horses about 30 feet away from the alchemical drudge, which is itself about 120 feet away from the Plaguestone in the center of town. The construct doesn't acknowledge anyone around it, plodding down the path toward the stone with mindless determination.
Finoan barely slows his horse before leaping off and hitting the ground running. "Well, this worked well enough last time," he mutters to himself as he crashes into the back of the constructs legs.
Fin sees that the drudge is starting to topple, but doesn't take the time to make sure that it goes completely down. Instead he darts past the thing's legs and positions himself between the mindless homunculus and the town.
Drake moves up next to the drudge, draws his falchion, and strikes at the creature.
Niss ◆moves forward as well, then tears the corner off a dilapidated brick building and launches it at the creature.
Finoan's attempt to trip the slow, relentless alchemical drudge doesn't phase the creature; likewise, Drake's attempt to slash at it misses, the creature dodging out of the way at the last moment.
Niss's attack, however, manages to break through its defenses and a jagged brick slams into the creature. It stumbles for a moment, but its attention stays straight ahead and it continues to move.
Baradim kicks off the horse, hitting the ground hard with a feral yet strangely focused look in his eyes. Both instinct and training were becoming married together, a dangerous combination for any who stood against The Princess Guard. He rushes ahead, drawing both his sword and shield before rounding around in front of the construct. Plaguestone was just behind him, containing everyone he cared for now, and he could not fail.
Breathing in deeply, a guttural roar escaped him that would send the hairs on the back of their necks on end. At least those that weren't a robot. It was a primal thing, a warcry of an orc, with a powerful shout.
While Baradim's war cry was, indeed, intimidating--many people in the city who had caught sight of The Princess Guard's return were paying attention to the events unfolding near the middle of town and flinched when he shouted--the drudge did not register at all. It merely kept walking, pausing a moment as Baradim's strike cut into it, hurting it badly. After, though, the drudge kept walking--its relentless, slow pace moving ever-forward.
Fin can't do anything but watch in frustration as the drudge plods quickly past. But watch he does.
"Hmm... Moving too fast for me to get ahead of it and cast something. But it spends no real effort on defense."
Finoan chases after the mechanical creature and claws it in the back.
The little monster moved unerringly forward, closer to the stone, its deadly cargo in tow. If it managed to reach its goal, the whole town would die. The Princess Guard would die. Drake would die.
Niss wouldn't allow it.
She threw Drake's extra hatchet into the air and grabbed it with her mind, then flung the thing towards the little creature, aiming for its skull. She hoped against hope the dangerous substance it carried would not cause problems if it fell to the ground upon the creature's death.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Fin curses softly as his claws leave only minor scratches and the creature continues plodding along towards town. A hatchet then falls from the sky and buries itself into the construct's head. It takes a couple more steps and topples forwards to the ground.
Finoan spends a half second trying to decide if Drake's hatchet was thrown by Drake or Niss, but realizes that it doesn't make much difference. Instead he moves forward and inspects the now non-moving thing to determine what it was carrying and how to make sure that it doesn't cause any more problems.
Finoan searches the drudge and finds nothing of note aside from a simple, obviously enchanted gold ring. The real danger is still within the Plaguestone, which is full of vials of viridian vapor.
As the drudge falls, Tamli, Sheriff Rolth, and Delma all approach from different directions, coming to investigate the commotion. The half-orc caravan master makes a beeline for Baradim, stopping at his side and looking him over to assess his injuries.
Sheriff Rolth, along with Delma, stops in front of The Princess Guard, an incredulous look on his face. "What was all this about? What is this?"
Sheriff Rolth, along with Delma, stops in front of The Princess Guard, an incredulous look on his face. "What was all this about? What is this?"
Finoan looks at the ring for a couple of seconds. Then answers Rolth's questions. "This," he says, prodding the construct with one foot, "is ... was ... a homunculus. As for what this is about, most of that is a tale to tell later." Fin thinks for a couple of seconds before summarizing. "Short story is that Vilree is trying to kill everyone in town. Ever heard of Viridian Vapor? Nasty stuff - at least according to the notes I have on it. Causes horrible lingering death if inhaled. The town is probably laced with it. Likely focusing on that weird rock you guys have in the center of town. I'm going to start looking through the notes I found for a few minutes more." He gives both Rolth and Delma pointed looks. "I would highly recommend evacuating the town - at least temporarily."
Fin goes back to looking at the ring and pulls out some of the books that he has collected along the way. "There was something about a ring and a key... being the key..."
He stops mid thought and turns to Niss and hands the ring to her. "Here, before I overwrite this with nothing but frustration and irritation, can you see if there is any impressions that you can get from this."
Niss takes the ring and focuses, preparing herself for whatever awful emotions Vilree may have imbued it with.
Sheriff Rolth looks alarmed at the recommendation, but ultimately settles on skepticism. "I'm going to need more than just 'probably' and such before I panic the entire town with an evacuation. Figure out what is actually going on, and we will stay alert." Delma makes a small noise of agreement, hands resting on her hips in obvious discomfort with the entire situation.
Aside from the plethora of information you've already discovered, a short skim lets you know that the reason the drudge was heading unwaveringly toward the Plaguestone in the center of town is because all of the viridian vapor was stored there, inert until the ring the construct carried triggered the reaction that would release the vapor.
With the help of someone skilled at alchemy, it would be a relatively easy matter to remove the containers of vapor safely and dispose of them, especially with the formulas handy.
Niss focuses hard on the ring, exploring the emotions that resonated in the band.
At the surface, Niss feels an overwhelming, sickening sense of hatred and Vilree's face rises to the surface of her mind. Exploring deeper, Niss would also feel old resonance that hints at deep-rooted grief and sadness.
The hatred, however, is so powerful that it hits Niss with a painful, raging spike of mental pain.
Sheriff Rolth looks alarmed at the recommendation, but ultimately settles on skepticism. "I'm going to need more than just 'probably' and such before I panic the entire town with an evacuation. Figure out what is actually going on, and we will stay alert."
"Fine, suit yourselves," Fin says as he goes back to reading the journals that he brought. He mumbles quietly in Jistkan, "Pestilentia omnis negator est, donec familiares et amici moriuntur."
After a few minutes, Fin puts the books away. "OK. Let's hope that these are right and that all of the poison is at that rock. It would be best if I had Gregor to help. And I would hope that the ring would need to be activated in some way to trigger the reaction, but let's not risk it. Just keep it outside of town."
Fin starts walking towards the caravan encampment to find Gregor. "We also still have those Orcs to help through their recovery. Does this mess never end?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Niss clutches the ring but stops focusing on it, wincing with the spike of pain the strong negative feelings carried along. "Nothing new. She hated this town."
She took a deep breath, and smiled as she let it out. Fin would sort out the poison lingering in the rock, and he was right about the orcs in need of help, but they'd won.. It was over. Vilree was defeated, and the town was safe.
Niss looked at the ring again. Vilree had experienced a terribly unfair life, and it had corrupted her into a monster. Niss's life hadn't been one of happiness either... But the Princess Guard, her family, had helped her become strong, and confident. She wouldn't let her past rule her, as Vilree had. She tucked the ring away into her belt pouch, a keepsake and reminder of everything that had happened since the caravan stopped in Etran's Folly. She'd keep her distance from the stone, until it was safe, and ensure the ring did, too. She walked over to Drake and slipped her arms around him. "We did it, husband. And you even managed to not nearly die, this time. I think we're getting better at this."
Baradim cuts into the beast as it trudges onwards towards the town, eventually being cut down at long last by a flying hatchet in the air. A sigh leaves his lips as he relaxes for a moment, sheathing his blade as he sees Tamli come right towards him. The faintest hint of a smile spreads across his tusked face as he stands up proudly, letting the woman inspect the burns upon him and the bruised knicks that the bolts left upon his skin when it was rock. His hand slipped up to her face, looking gently down at her.
"It is nearly done." He whispered to her, his hand slipping around the back of her neck. "Bort is avenged. Vilree is no more." His oath was complete at long last; the long and dangerous trail that justice had taken him on. From a simple murder to fighting abominations to saving a town, the orc would finally take a breath and look at the others. "Come, there is still more work to do. We found others from the Hold. They were forced into addiction, forced to serve. We must help break them of its hold and give them a better life if they wish."
Finoan looks around the caravan until he finds Gregor. "Hey Gregor. Do you have any experience making elixirs to help with addition?" He pulls out the crafting book that he pilfered from the lower alchemy lab. "I am hoping that somewhere in here it has listed what the addictive compound is."
"I need to go check out that stone in the middle of town. See what I can see about that."
Fin makes his way to the stone and starts checking it out.
▸ Poisoned Stone
▸
Niss clutches the ring but stops focusing on it, wincing with the spike of pain the strong negative feelings carried along. "Nothing new. She hated this town."
She took a deep breath, and smiled as she let it out. Fin would sort out the poison lingering in the rock, and he was right about the orcs in need of help, but they'd won.. It was over. Vilree was defeated, and the town was safe.
Niss looked at the ring again. Vilree had experienced a terribly unfair life, and it had corrupted her into a monster. Niss's life hadn't been one of happiness either... But the Princess Guard, her family, had helped her become strong, and confident. She wouldn't let her past rule her, as Vilree had. She tucked the ring away into her belt pouch, a keepsake and reminder of everything that had happened since the caravan stopped in Etran's Folly. She'd keep her distance from the stone, until it was safe, and ensure the ring did, too. She walked over to Drake and slipped her arms around him. "We did it, husband. And you even managed to not nearly die, this time. I think we're getting better at this."
Chuckling as he places his arms around her, "I know, right? I think I'm just now starting to get the hang of this, my love. Which means it's probably the perfect time to call it quits." He says with a wry grin. "Okay, we'll wait at least until we finally get all this messed squared away. And the sooner we do that, my dear Niss, the better. We can finally get out of this town and start fresh. I can't wait. It won't be soon enough." He says with a big smile, winking.
Gregor is easy to find and even easier to convince to help. Once you have lent him the material you recovered from Vilree, especially her formula book with notes, you are able to assist him with removing the stockpile of viridian vapor from the Plaguestone in the center of town. Vilree seemed to have created a barely-discernable hinged opening at the base of the stone where her servants (likely Hallod) filled the stone with the deadly poison.
Disposing of the poison was easy enough–Vilree kept detailed notes and, in a few days, Gregor was able to piece together a way to render the vapor inert. The elf kept the vials under careful guard in the meantime.
Gregor was also very familiar with a concoction to help the orcs break their addiction to the additive that Vilree used in her mutagens. It would take time, but it would be doable.
Tamli leans into Baradim’s touch, a small smile crossing her own tusked face at seeing the relatively minor wounds (at least in comparison to previous ones) on him. She would always be proud of his ability to take a hit, but she preferred to spend their downtime doing things other than nursing his wounds. ”Good. I am proud of you.” She pauses, listening to him tell her of the orcs The Princess Guard had rescued. ”Taking in more strays…” She says with a wry smile, chuckling softly. ”We will help them. It seems we will be running more of a rehabilitation operation than a merchant one,” she half-jokes, pulling the orc down for a kiss.
The orcs had made it to town that evening and sent Graytusk in to speak on their behalf. Sheriff Rolth didn’t protest much, especially with Tamli taking them under her wing and The Princess Guard vouching for them.
This evening was a night of celebration: relief for Bort’s former caravan…they now had answers and justice for their former illustrious leader. The town was finally free of Vilree’s reign of terror on their land, although the land itself would take some time to heal. Noala assured folks that with some care and cleansing efforts, things would eventually heal. It would take a long time, but it would be done.
The laugh that left Baradim's lips was more like a bark, his head shaking a little bit before he spoke again. "They have a leader with them. A wise woman. She reminds me of someone very special." His tease was short-lived before they kissed, a soft but lingering thing. His arm would slip around her, tightening and keeping her close to him for just a moment. He would finally release her, turning his attention towards the sheriff. The kind smile would finally fade before he nodded.
"The four of us will need the remainder of our pay. No rush...but soon." He would then clap the human on the shoulder in a friendly, if heavy, manner and make his way into the town with them. The orcs from outside of town would be welcomed in by Baradim. The orc man took the lead wherever Tamli and Graytusk left off, filling in for leadership when it was needed to keep things calm. The tavern made decent coin that day.
At the Feedmill, the energy was far more vibrant and uplifted. It was almost reminiscent of that first night without the dark attitude of the boorish thug that they dispatched. Baradim sat at the same table they had all arrived at, a warm stew with fresh bread before him and a large mug of ale as well. He was not used to not paying for his meals, someone having covered his drink and food despite him saying he was fine. Sipping from his ale, he looked at the others.
"Well, it seems we were a good team after all. We should've charged Bort more for protection." Baradim said with a mirthful smirk.
Vilree seemed to have created a barely-discernable hinged opening at the base of the stone where her servants (likely Hallod) filled the stone with the deadly poison.
Finoan finds the hinged door at the base of the stone monument. It was fairly obvious - once someone knew to look for it. But the stone had been there for so long that it had just become part of the scenery and everyone blissfully ignored it. Fin opens the door carefully and sees the chamber inside had been carefully excavated with acid. "That probably took weeks to do. Impressive. In a psychotic way."
Finoan carefully and expertly removes all of the bottles of poison from the distribution system that they are attached to, making sure that none of the volatile compound escapes.
He hands the sealed containers to Gregor. "Be sure to not drop those," he says with a wink.
---------
Once the poison has been safely relocated to Gregor's small alchemy station, Fin joins the others in the Feedmill common room. He lounges on his favorite spot on the hearth and simply enjoys the atmosphere of peace and relief that has settled over the place now that the fear and hatred that was infecting the town for years has been identified and dealt with.
He briefly considers going and finding the old codger - Delma's father, was it? - who was so quick to lay blame for this on Vilree. While he was technically right, it also seems that it was a problem of their own making. But he discards the idea quickly. Finoan is sure that Delma would be better suited and more capable of getting through the thick skull of the man than Fin himself is.
So instead he simply watches as the people from Bort's caravan, Gil's caravan, and the natives of Plaguestone mingle and chat together.
Hmmph. It's not really Bort's caravan any more, is it. It is Tamli's caravan. And with the plague removed from the stone - both physically and metaphorically - maybe we should stop thinking of the town by that name.