Higgins lets out a whistle of relief. "That was sure some surprise," he says, heading back to the corpse. "Good thing we could still burn and zap it." He kicks it over, trying to get a good look at the face for any signs of familiarity.
If the face remains unfamiliar, Higgins returns his attention to the amulet. He'll snatch it and then hold it out for inspection. "Anythin' special about this one?"
"Whew! That's twice ya done shot a gun out of someone's hand. Did you train to do that?" she wonders with a chuckle. It's a rhetorical question. She is sure that he had. Normally, people just aimed for the center mass.
"When I don't want to be touched, it has deadly consequences..." she hints in an alluring way.
Higgins raises the amulet to her and she casts a spell to reveal its secrets.
"Let me look into its magical construction. I am no jeweler, but I'd like to learn. Let me see if I can tell you also what it is."
The elven beauty will begin to study the artifact. Her keen slender eyes and alien blue hands reach out toward it with her magic. Meanwhile, her mind ponders over the various jewelry she has owned in her long elven life to piece together what this is made of.
"Meanwhile, you keep an eye out to make sure there aren't any more of those movin' around."
Higgins nods at Nempura's question. "Used to be a bounty hunter, and I like to try to take them alive. Shoot folks in their limbs, what have you. Although for that fella--" he points at the undead creature " I was aimin' as much to blow off its arm than the gun."
He spends a moment opening his new rifle up and cleaning it. "I must say, Bertha here's been doin' a fine job."
Myrandya giggles. "You keep shootink like zhat, I vill be out off a job," she says a bit ruefully. "Vhat good is a doctor vhen ve are not effen shcratched? But sherioushly, I am ferry glad zhat no vun vas hurt."
[dice=Market roll]1d20
Wes's experiences seem to have impressed the elf from the looks on her face. She looks down at the body. Steely cold eyes watch as the undead foe flops back in a shudder of twitches and convulsions.
"It's always strange how you surface folks suffer electrocution. It is so much different here compared to underwater. Mostly you just tense up there, but here..." she gestures to the flip-flopping body, now long dead.
The sea elf wheels her gun around as someone else appears on the road. A beautiful Varisian by the look and sound of her. Nempura herself had a Varisian twang to her own accent at times, having spent so long there. No doubt, the longer spending time around Roja, the more it will come out in different words she states.
"Feel free to ride in. You are no member of the gangs around here, that much is obvious."
When Isabella draws nearer, Nempura will lower her gun, but will keep it in her lap. She nods to Myrandya's sentiments.
"Yes, we are vastly outnumbered out here. We could actually use all the gunhands we can get."
If Isabella is continually nonthreatening, Nempura will raise up her gun and while the barrel is still a little warm, will curl one of her hairs around it as one would with a modern-day curler. It leaves an adorable curl down the front of the elf's hair. Her body is alluring and is accompanied by a beautiful dress and corset pair of whites, cyans, and gold filigree. The dress is very feminine and accents her curves, which makes them stand out but yet the dress itself is conservative. It may conjure images of a school teacher like dress--if the school teacher was alluring and was going to some fancier event. Nempura's hair is mostly reddish in appearance against her pale blue skin. The hair has a consistency of having been wettened and dried in a manner consistent with riding, but that doesn't track given the elf's large blue hat that would block the rain from falling upon it in normal cases, and it hasn't even rained today. Perhaps she had dipped her hair in the waters at some point that day and then had ridden?
Clomp clomp, clomp clomp...
The endless patter of Wildflower's shoes traversing the rutted road west from Ravenmoor through the Churlwood had a drowsing effect on her rider. Sensing the subtle shift of weight on her back from one side to the other, she turned her golden brown head to look back. Clearing her throat had the effect of startling the young woman to alertness once more.
Pan Pan Tsang was hardly an accomplished trainer of horses. If anything, Wildflower had taught her and not the other way around. The horse had thrown her previous owner, who was keen to sell her or put her down, and Pan Pan was desperate to flee Kaer Maga, a place she thought would hide her for the rest of her days. That was the point of Kaer Maga, wasn't it? But she wasn't safe there for the same reason she wasn't safe in Korvosa and any number of hamlets in between and increasingly on her trail. She was being hunted, if not by a list of her dead father's greedy creditors, or by the evil spirit in the form of the Shadow Man, then by her own sense of guilt for her part in the murder of her parents. How that manifested seemed to vary by the town, and most recently in Ravenmoor it was the looks she received from the men at the Inn, as if something untoward was expected of her.
Those looks were nothing new. What had changed recently was that men seemed more inclined to act, as if the farther west she traveled, the farther away from what she once consider civilized society and a life of privilege, the less protected she was by societal standards, or by common decency.
Wildflower seemed to innately understand this and the horse protected her in its way. AT this moment, that amounted to making sure Pan Pan didn't fall asleep in the saddle and tumble onto the road...
It was happenstance that once again had Pan Pan moving west. While settling her debt in Ravenmoor the innkeeper's wife stopped her on the way out of town and handed her a letter. "Looks like you need this," she had said. Opening the letter, Pan Pan found a call for help from someone named Nempura Babblebrook. More than that, she found a purpose.
It wasn't adventure Pan Pan craved. It was to feel needed, that most human of desires to see value in one's own life. Here was that chance, for the first time really in her twenty-six years, to truly live.
Wildflower neighed. Pan Pan shook her head and took a deep breath of dusty air. The ears of her horse stood up, homed in on something she could not hear. With a turn of her wrist she stopped Wildflower and listened. There on the breeze, the faintest thrum, like a clap of thunder a hundred miles distant. Gunfire.
Pan Pan urged Wildflower ahead, deeper into the forest. Up ahead was a clearing, and what looked like bodies hung from a tree. Here they stopped and she stepped off her mount. There was not much chance their approach went unnoticed, and she did not want to rile these strangers. Se knew from the letter that Miss Babblebrook should be near these parts. Perhaps one of these strangers was her.
With Nempura's letter in one hand and Wildflower's reins in the other, Pan Pan cautiously steps forward.
Affecting the western speech she had grown accustomed to these past few years she asks, "I'm here looking for a Miss Nempura Babblebrook. Got here a letter she wrote calling out for able folk. My name is Pan, and I expect we meet for a common purpose."
It appears she's not the only one to arrive recently.
Nempura had put in the letter their intended direction, but that the sheriff may be the one to contact. However, she also did not anticipate someone would come right away. At Pan Pan's calling out, Nempura looks across the clearing and beckons her over.
"I am Nempura Babblebrook," states a blue-skinned sea elf on horseback. She is stunning, and if Pan Pan had ever been through the area before and been into a tavern in Roderick's Cove, she'd have seen the beauty. Not as a deputy, but as a "lady dove", or tempter of men.
"You got here quick. I just sent those out. Did you ride all morning?" It was that, or she was in a nearby town and was probably one of the first stops the postman made. Nempura quite honestly is surprised they ran into each other. Thankfully, they had all stuck to the road. If the bandits had gone off-road, these travelers may never have met the deputies.
"Our path is dangerous. Are you able to fight well enough?"
Her eyes look over the strange foreigner. No more foreign or strange than she was. Despite her long life, the connection with their people is a new one with her.
Pan Pan is impressed by Nempura's beauty and confidence. That she is an elf and carries herself as a leader of men is wonderful. Her lithe form, fair red hair and easy grace are a stark contrast to Pan Pan. Underneath the traveling cloak and dirty gi is a body that more resembles that of man, muscular but wiry, calloused, and with a rainbow of small bruises fading into her ivory skin. She never thought of herself as beautiful in a conventional sense, although men seemed to prize her all the same, but more like a horse in the wild - something to be broken, conquered. It was a game she didn't mind playing, truth be told, if the man was right, but there were precious few of such men.
"Form the east, I came straightaway. Though if not for the sounds of gunfire my horse and I would not likely have found you this quickly."
Pan Pan is ever cautious with strangers and slow to make friends, and purposefully only gives part of her name. But she has taken this summons for what it is, and must learn trust quickly.
"I can fight." She unsheathes the pair of wave blades and assumes a stance. She exudes a calm ferocity, then just as quickly she relaxes and returns the blades to her sides.
Looks like we have a good group together here. Since our new recruits are people I've never played with, and the rest of us are still relatively new to each other, I thought I'd take a moment to reintroduce myself and the setting.
A couple of things that are perhaps unusual about me as a GM:
1. I tend to allow or even prefer a large amount of player world building. One of the many things I teach for a living is improv, so I'm a big believer in "yes, and." Obviously that can be a little tricky when we are adapting this setting to a different setting. We are all still feeling our way through that. But if you look back at some of Nempura's posts, for example, she created a lot of info about the gambling den/brothel where she was working, and I'm good with that. It makes my life easier and deepens your connections to the world. Also, I find it speeds up play (and I am such a slow poster that anything that speeds up play is good). You don't have to ask if there is a bush you can hide behind or whatever. If something is reasonable for the setting as described, just toss it in there. That said, try not to go too far and make up a conveniently placed elephant or box of dynamite.
2. One of my core beliefs as a GM is that player's characters tell you what adventures they want to play. So I'll be pouring over your character sheets to find opportunities to make your characters shine. Not that everything will be customized to you. I always think it is fun to have to come up with solutions that aren't what your character is best at. But if a character takes Ranged Disarm, and the whole campaign is creatures with natural weapons, or the character is an enchanter and the whole campaign is undead and robots, then that isn't going to be a great time. And if there is anything specific you want to do, feel free to tell me out of character.
You guys all have super interesting backstories, and I'll try to work with you to incorporate those into this published adventure, though some of them might be better for later plot hooks.
Looking forward to the adventure.
Pan Pan turns to address one of the men. "A gun is a good weapon, yes. I assure you, with a blade I am as dangerous as any man with a gun."
"When I was a young elf, there weren't guns. Blades ruled the world. Then magic grew popular. Magic then ruled. Now is the age of the gun. It is foolish to think any of the predecessors who once ruled the world are any less deadly though. It is a beautiful sword..." she comments upon looking at the cold iron blade. Something about cold iron always just unnerved her, yet it is beautiful.
"And anyone claiming they can hold their own in a gun fight with a sword should be good enough to join us. That, or we'll find out very quickly if that was not the case...You are welcome here regardless."
Perhaps there is a bit more emphasis on the fact Pan Pan is welcomed in her statement. Nempura can't help herself. She is not blind to the cruelty of men and how they have treated her people. Nempura went through it herself and goes through it still on occasion. If she were comely, she perhaps would even more. In any case, she wants Pan Pan to know that she is safe here, and wishes to communicate to the others that is a fact.
Looking to Rosa, Nempura can see the beauty and experience in the eyes of the gunslinger.
"You are both welcome to join with us in this instance. We don't have the authority to deputize you, so treat yourself as concerned citizens defending the law. Let us act first and follow our lead, please. As for pay, I am sure the sheriff will dig into her funds for your aid, but if not...I'll pay some to ensure you stick around for this trouble from the little savings I have. I sense our need is great. If we find anything along the way that is contraband or able to be confescated, we'll share profits too."
She will then have them draw close so she can tell them about the events that have unfolded with Roderick's ghost and the very reason they are heading this way now. Pulling out the map, she displays how they have displayed the Churlwood and the mill east of town, and then the hanging tree. But the stone house is unknown and it is believed it has something to do with the dangers they are facing. The group heads that way.
"Old Roderick stated that there were gauntlets in the vault there that will help deal with this deadly missing sword. We need to be careful, as I'm sure there are others in the search for this place too."
As they are close to her, they will pick up on some form of lingering perfume barely there. There is also the last scents of lavender lotion and a subtle woodsy-and-sweet-smelling oil that hasn't been fully washed away when she had to jump into the river earlier.
Higgins has seen his fair share of years, wrinkles etched in from dirt and dust onto what used to be a handsome face. He sports practical riding clothes with a tin star pinned prominently. Two revolvers are at his side, but he seems to favor the powerful-looking rifle that he's holding.
"The name's Higgins," says the man holding a rifle. "Or Wes if you prefer. We're all glad for some good folk lookin' ta set some things straight for Roderic's Cove. Been troubles lately. And not just gangs, neither. Nempura tells a better tale than I do." You find that the deputy mostly keeps his mouth shut as Nempura shares the details of their recent adventures.
Eventually, he picks up again, though. "It's a real treat travelin' with four exotic ladies. Roderic's Angels."
A chuckle emits from Nempura at Wes' words. Then again at Isabella's. "And it's not like I've ever been called 'exotic' before..." she playfully winks, then explains. "Before this, I worked as entertainment in the local inn under the name Bella Blue."
Perhaps they have heard of her name in stopping in the inn at some point in the past, or perhaps she was all new to them, but it is clear that she is appealing and matching of someone highly priced and prized to be in that profession, even if her racial heritage would frown on it.
"I myself am no angel, but jokes aside, let us be off here in a moment."
She will cast a spell of mage hand and will root through the undead's pockets and things for clues to who he was. Perhaps word can be given on his death to someone waiting on him? Perhaps he perished with a love letter or a message home in his pocket? If she finds something, she will cast a prestidigitation spell to instantly clean it of the filth of rot his body once possessed and will bring it to her hand to handle, all whilst sitting up top her horse.
Lots of information all at once often confuses Pan Pan. Her gaze drifts to the gravel road encircling the clearing. The four corpses aside it looks like as good a place as any to let Wildflower graze for a bit.
She waits for a pause before speaking. "Captain Roderic, of Roderic's Cove, is a spirit, and he appeared to you and tasked you with finding gauntlets that will allow you to wield a saber that may be possessed by evil. And now we're in search of a cabin in the wood that contains a vault where these items are believed to be hidden, yes?"
A shiver run up Pan Pan's spine. She was beguiled once herself by a spirit whose motivations were not immediately clear, and then it murdered her parents and destroyed her life.
"Do you feel that the spirit of Roderic can be trusted? How do each of you benefit from recovering the saber?" She wants to know the motivations of her new companions, if for no other reason that it will help her to better understand her own.
Higgins just nods as Pan Pan re-summarizes the status. He then continues.
"Roderic just wants ta protect his town, far as I can tell. Well, and he may have made some mistakes he regrets--seems like gettin' the sword but not the bracers is one o' them."
He finds himself pausing as he's asked the next question. "Hm, can't say I've got a clear idea about the reward. Most times I'm lookin' fer the bounty, you know? But I ain't just doin' this fer the money--if that were the case, might do as well or better robbin' folks." He looks up off into the distance. "Sometimes, you just gotta do what feels right."
Higgins shuts up again and lets others talk as he starts figuring out which path to the Stone House seemed like it would be fastest.
Pan Pan nods to Higgins. His demeanor and honest nature come through in his words.
Having looked at the map, Pan Pan attempts a deduction. "The bend in the road - we turn east there."
Leaning forward in her saddle she whispers to Wildflower, "Follow the land; feel the movement of water underfoot. It flows east to our destination." The horse tosses her mane to the side playfully.
"I'm not very good at tracking. We've done okay so far with these tracks here that we are following. If we can, we should stick to the road. No sense in getting lost. Also, if there are any more gangs in the area, they will likely be watching the road and may have set up stop points for civilians. It'd do well to patrol and make the area safer. However, if this trail goes off, it may do well to note it."
With that, she will let someone capable of tracking lead the way but will still keep her eyes peeled for dangers.
The track you are following south is red-brown dirt, wide enough for a wagon and tracked with wheel ruts. To the sides of the path the ground is thickly covered with ferns, and as you move away from the river the trees grow taller, their trunks thicker. The sound of your horses hooves have a strange dead sound as the plant growth catches most of it. If you aren't familiar with the forest, it is hard to follow the passage of time, but you would guess it is about 3 hours to sundown when you come to a spot where the road has clearly been torn up a few days ago.
Your horses snort and their ears flicker as something spooks them.
Up ahead you see what looks like a wake of buzzards feasting on the corpses of two horses.
"Whoa, girl, easy," says Pan Pan to Wildflower, combing her hand through the animal's dense mane.
She jumps to the road and quickly ties the reins around the pommel of the saddle in case Wildflower is forced to bolt. Then she takes her blades into her hands and begins to move forward toward the corpses.
"These animals were killed quickly - they didn't have time to flee. What can take down a pair of horses that fast, to say nothing of their riders?"
There are tracks in the road past the horses. It looks like they were pulling a wagon, coach, or cart north, running from something.
No sign of the wagon now.
Myrandya seems somewhat cowed by the appearance of the others, retreating into herself as they ride forward. During a lull in the conversation, however, she tentatively speaks in response to Pan Pan's question. "I, vell, I vork for zhe sheriff. She'sh been ferry kind to me, giffink me jobs for zhe betterment of Roderick's Cofe. I like haffink someone in charge who tellsh me vhat to do. Vissout zhe protection of zhe law, I vorry zhat shome folks vould not take kindly to my, vell, differenshes. My fazzher alvays varned me zhat effen good people vill fear and hate me. Sho I try ferry, ferry hard to be ferry usheful to efferyvon." She blushes a little, suddenly feeling like she has said too much.
She rides pensively the rest of the way, as it seems to her the others have matters well in hand. She pulls up sharply when they arrive at the scene of the wagon attack, and though she would prefer to stay mounted on her pony, she slowly slides off to investigate.
The buzzards hop away at Myrandya's approach, crawking loudly in frustration, but not flying away.
The horses' legs have lacerations at the same height on each foreleg, suggesting that there was a cutting line across the road at about knee level. They also have hacking wounds on their flank and piercing wounds on their necks, low, as though they were hacked and stabbed by something short.
There are tracks surrounding the horses with a long footpad and five long toes. They look like footprints of giant rats, and Myrandya quickly identifies them as tracks of goblin-dogs.
Looking further, it looks like the wagon stopped here but remained upright and was turned around and taken back up the trail.
"Well, I kind of like ya so far, Myrandya," she states with a wink and a smile. "And you all should see her mix chemicals. She's a smart one."
"Be careful," she instructs Pan Pan. As Nempura also ties up her horse and sees Pan Pan begin to walk in toward the corpses. Buzzards also are not the kindest of creatures when their food is potentially threatened. Thankfully, they give way to the group. When Myrandya conceptualizes what might have happened here she nods.
"Okay...it could be that there are hostages being held. A whole tribe may be up there."
After running her hands through her hair, she tries to think. On one hand, the entire town can be in danger if they don't get these gauntlets but there is no guarantee they are even there. These people taken, that is factual.
"If they killed these travelers, let's find the bodies. If there aren't any, I think we should think at least see about their rescue...or at least scout as best we can. Let us be wary of traps too." In her eyes, it verifies her need of Roja and Pan Pan.
Myrandya seems somewhat cowed by the appearance of the others, retreating into herself as they ride forward. During a lull in the conversation, however, she tentatively speaks in response to Pan Pan's question. "I, vell, I vork for zhe sheriff. She'sh been ferry kind to me, giffink me jobs for zhe betterment of Roderick's Cofe. I like haffink someone in charge who tellsh me vhat to do. Vissout zhe protection of zhe law, I vorry zhat shome folks vould not take kindly to my, vell, differenshes. My fazzher alvays varned me zhat effen good people vill fear and hate me. Sho I try ferry, ferry hard to be ferry usheful to efferyvon." She blushes a little, suddenly feeling like she has said too much.
Pan Pan listens intently to Myrandya. The accent takes a moment to get used to but in her years of travel across this wide land she has encountered countless regional accents and dialects. Although her comprehension of other languages is awful, she can usually understand her own, regardless of how it is spoken.
She doesn't really know how best to reply to all of their sentiments but she is convinced they are genuine. "Thank you all."
Not much of a tracker herself, Pan Pan is impressed by her new companions ability to work the scene. She is quickly learning to trust their judgment.
Higgins hops off Midnight and gets to look around the area too. Finding his companions quite skilled, he's mostly focused on his surroundings, rifle drawn and keeping a watchful eye for lingering threats.
"Prolly been a few days now," mentions Higgins, noting what seemed apparent from the land and the work of the buzzards. "Wonder where they were comin' from, and where the were headed?"
"S'pose we could try a rescue."
The signs indicate that the wagon was turned around and then pulled back in the direction from which it came. It takes some inspection to work it out because of some rain in the woods and several layers of overlapping tracks. A large barefooted biped appears to have pulled the wagon away from where the horses were killed. The wagon was flanked by goblin dogs stepping too heavy, indicating that they had riders.
The chase looks to have gone on for nearly a mile. There are arrows smashed into the road and stuck in trees, and here and there bark torn by bullets. Past where the chase began the wagon turns off the road to the east, which is away from where you want to go, crushing ferns and disturbing the layer of pine straw and the ground beneath.
"People were injured here...that is certain..." she speaks with hesitation in her voice. She is not sure they made it. "It's strange they'd leave the horses and not the wagon. I believe they truly hate horses, but this..." she points to the wagon tracks her companions have found and adds, "...this almost seems like they are trying to hide things."
If no one objects, she will head off the path to the east.
"Let's try to be as quiet as we can. We'll have the night on our side to hide us from afar. If the moon is out, I can see everything fine as day. Assuming they are not hiding in the distance, I should be able to spy them out fine. Can anyone else see in the dark okay?"
Humans can see okay in the moonlight as well as long as it is not pitch black. She looks upward at the clouds above. It had rained earlier, but was the night threatening to do so again? Nempura prays a quick prayer to the Desna, the Mother Moon to reveal the shining light of Somal for the sake of their mission.
Pan Pan shakes her head. "My eyesight in the dark is no better than average, and under the canopy of trees we'll not have the best moonlight. I trust Wildflower to be alert to danger, but I do fear a fight when the enemy can see and I cannot."
Higgins just shrugs at the question about nightvision, then utters a short Indian prayer and touches his badge. It begins to glow with light. "Makes me an easy target, but it's better'n bein' blind."
Myrandya looks a bit embarrassed. She starts to speak up in response to Nempura's question, but when Higgins activates the light on his badge she seems to think better of it.
"Hrrnn..." she groans as the light kicks on. "They'll see us from a long way away. I suppose I can scout well ahead and let everyone know what is going on. Just take things slow..."
If that is okay with everyone, she will dismount and let them take possession of her horse. She will then move out ahead of the group with her low-light vision and will get a distance away that even she can barely see the light from the party through the trees. Here, she uses the light of the moon to survey the landscape ahead of her for a great distance, hoping to see what is unseen to human eyes. Meanwhile, she is concealed, using secret elven magics to blend in with her surroundings. The same magic is used underwater to hide in kelp beds.
*+4 from blend
Agreeing with the tactical suggestions, Higgins picks up a rock, casts Light on it, while the light on his badge fades. He then puts the lighted rock into a pouch as he allows his eyes to settle into the growing darkness. "Reckon you're right," he says simply.
He keeps moving with the group. His trusty horse Midnight seems capable of leading the way, searching ahead in low light and sniffing the air as well.
Pan Pan takes heart at the show of confidence by the others. As long as Nempura is scouting ahead on foot, the monk will likewise walk beside Wildflower. As the light of day fades and the thought of goblins and worse dances in her mind and preys on her fears of the deepening dark, Pan Pan closes her eyes and focuses on the sound of the horses' footfalls on the rutted road. Then she listens for their breathing, and finally extends her senses to the ambient noise of the surrounding forest, listening instead of seeing.
It takes a few hours of scouting for the sun to descend. You continue to follow tracks. Large humanoid, goblin dog, the occasional goblin track. At one point, the torn bark of two trees reveal where the wagon must have gotten stuck and been wrenched free.
The moon rises and Nempura continues scouting, the rest of you following behind. In a pool of darkness beneath the branches of a tree, a red-orange bead of light flares. The burning tip of a cigar or cigarette. Nempura is relatively confident that she remains undetected.
After some time, Nempura will return to the group and will explain what she is seeing ahead. As long as they keep onward at a slow but steady pace, they won't outdistance her reports and will allow her to keep ahead of them to see about danger ahead.
She will continue onward with thanks to Desna for her grace regarding the moon. The feeling of night and the odd scents of the forest is enjoyable, though her thighs and calves burn from sneaking to and fro. This jaunt in the woods reminds her of the darkness of the water and living down where she did in her youth for a time.
Memoirs I think you missed the end of my last post.
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Nempura will freeze behind a tree at the sight of the flare of light. The elf sniffs the air lightly to see if she can detect the smoke. Her magic holds up, blending her in, but in her mind, she knows the group will be on her soon. She will wait for a little bit, first seeing if whatever it is in the darkness moves onward. She doesn't want to full-out assault something she doesn't know what it is, and she doesn't want to give herself away. She tries to guess the height at which this creature's cigar or cigarette is being smoked.