Zaborcja ponders what he knows about minotaurs. Large bull-headed humanoids possessing terrific strength, they also have an instinctual cunning that prevents them from ever getting lost. Lacking a language of their own, they most often speak Giant.
Upon hearing the information, Maxy beams toothily "Great! So which of us speak Giant? I don't."
Zaborjca says something in Abyssal.
He shakes his head. "No - I don't speak Giant. But... I may be able to brew up a potion that can give the gift of tongues. I'd need to look up some musty old spell sellers in the city, but... should be doable."
Bredden nods, "Understood. Take the time you need to make your preparations, but don't dawdle. If these minotaurs are up to no good, it's the most organized I've ever seen 'em. If they've better intentions, it's best we find them out sooner than later."
Maxy thinks a bit then nods to Zaborjca. "We can wait a couple of hours. Then let's go."
With the party ready to head out, it's a few day's travel to the Grandfather's Sorrow. The interior of the Isle of Kortos is a dangerous place, to be sure, but the it goes smoothly for the most part.
The first day sees the party leave behind the outlying reaches of Diobel. and the second travelling along the Deluge River. The journey goes by peacefully, though a run-in with some unfriendly caravanners just before the ascent into the mountains on the third day sours the experience.
Finally, the fourth day brings the approach to the Grandfather's Sorrow. It's a stately peak, snow-topped and tree-lined. Aspens and willows grace it's lower slopes, while hardy pines climb up to the tree line.
As the party travels upwards through patches of meadow and forest, they hear a sound. It's a strange one to be hearing on a mountain far from civilization, but it sounds like many bells clanging. The exact source is hard to spot, but it's unmistakably coming from further up.
Maxy cocks her head and wonders "Surely not cowbells, right?" and chuckles a little. [b]"Is anyone but Aygavan sneaky enough to go ahead and get a look? Too bad he couldn't come along.
Zaborjca clanks noticably as he looks at one plate mail clad arm, then the other. He shakes his head silently at Maxy, his message clear: "Not me."
Without anyone sneaky to help out, Maxy just keeps walking toward the sound while keeping a sharp eye out.
Maxy heads towards the clanging of the bells. She crests a rise and comes to a wide valley. Rather than the dense trees, this valley opens up into a great meadow.
The source is immediately apparent. A large flock of sheep grazes placidly in the field and standing in the middle of them is a minotaur. He reaches into a large sack and pulls out a handful of apples (which for a minotaur is quite large) and hurls them to the flock. The minotaur stands, looking contentedly out at his sheep.
When he spots Maxy atop the hill, he raises a massive hand in greeting, but makes no other moves.
Zaborjca flashes a vial in his hand. "Would anyone like to call a word of greeting? Drink this down and ye can."
The minotaur cocks his head, mulling over Tocash’s words before nodding and pointing at Tocash and saying in a rumbling voice, ”You.”
"Ah. Good. Not me this time."
Zaborjca tries to recall if shepherding minotaurs are common, and if so, if they're any more or less violent than usual.
Zab is pretty sure that typical minotaurs are more inclined to hunting than herding. The very fact that this one hasn’t attacked the party is also quite unusual.
Ghorza put her hands up in a show that she was unarmed. She walked forward, keeping her eyes trained on the minotaur.
"We come in peace!" She called out. "We come to talk! Do you speak common?!" She continued her voice, loud, clear and confident. If it could speak with them without the use of magic, that would be ideal. And if it couldn't? It was information worth knowing. She just hoped that her body language was clear enough.
The minotaur furrows it's massive brow and says something in a rumbling language that's most likely Giant before saying, "Hm. You-speak, me, bad. Me-speak, me, good."
Zaborjca uncorks a vial and hands it to Ghorza. "I'm no diplomat, but I think it'll appreciate being spoken to in its own tongue."
Maxy nods. "Ah yes. I do not speak many different languages well either. You should be able to speak to our red-headed friend here in your own speak once she takes this potion."
Ghorza chugged it down. "Is that better? Can you understand me now?" She asked the minotaur, still keeping her hands where it could see them. "And is there anyone here who speaks our tongue, so that my companions can talk as well?"
The minotaur continues to look confused before audibly and loudly saying to itself, "By the Wind and the Sky, why can't these little ones say a thing that makes sense. I wonder if Old Bet could understand them."
Though it didn't understand Ghorza, she understands what it says quite well.
"I can understand it, but it cannot understand us. It wondered, out loud, if Old Bet could understand us." Ghorza said to her companions. "Old Bet!" She yelled out to the minotaur. Making a thumbs up sign, she slowly kept approaching.
The minotaur’s eyes go wide. It seems baffled that Ghorza can understand him, ”You can understand but not talk. Strange beyond strange. Old Bet knows the most about strangeness. You come, speak to her.”
He puts two fingers in his mouth and lets out a long, low whistle. A beast that’s unmistakably a dire wolf comes loping out of the woods. The minotaur kneels to meet it’s eyes, ”Stay here. Watch the herd. Keep them safe.”
With little other ceremony, the minotaur starts striding off, beckoning to the party to follow.
”It asked us to come speak to Old Bet. Hands where they can see them, aye?” Ghorza said, as she followed. ”The Dire Wolf is to protect the herd. But let’s nay anger it…or them.”
Maxy enters a defensive fighting stance when the dire wolf comes rushing over then gets puzzled when the minotaur seems friendly with it. "Huh. I guess I've only had luck taming sea creatures. Land creatures have some sense too it seems. Good." She relaxes a little and nods, following along to meet Old Bet.
The minotaur lopes quickly along theough the highlands, stepping entirely over several streams and fallen trees.
It takes a bit less than an hour before the party reaches the village. It’s just as Bredden described. A wall, part stone and part wood, surrounds a village of a dozen or so simple huts. Roughspun banners covered in blue woad designs flutter on the walls. The designs are naturalistic in nature, with the image of a cloud riven by a lightning bolt appearing on most of them.
Several minotaurs stand at the gates, holding simply made crossbows and wearing greatclube made from whole small tree trunks on their backs.
The herdsman waves to the guards, ”Friendly small folk. They seem like they can understand me, but can’t talk to me. Taking them to see Old Bet. Maybe they can help with the Hunter in the Fog.”
The guards nod and let the herdsman pass, and he waves to the party again, urging them to follow.
Ghorza followed behind, and gave a friendly wave to the guards, indicating that she understood what was being said. At the same time she kept her hands visibile, being under no illusion that a village full of minotaurs would be able to easily destroy their group.
Zaborjca follows along, keeping his hands far from his blade and keeping quiet.
Maxy doesn't have any weapons to keep her hands off of but she studiously avoids transmuting her mouth into a vicious maw. It was common courtesy! She follows along happily, enjoying seeing this new village.
The party makes their way through the village. Several minotaurs poke their large heads out of their simple mud brick huts, pushing aside roughspun but decoratively woven curtains that serve as the doors for their homes.
Several minotaur children, each easily as tall as the members of the party, play simple games or play-fight each other with sticks.
At the center of the village sits a large cook-fire, several minotaur men and women tending large clay pots full of bubbling stew and a long spit with several deer roasting on it.
Behind it is a larger hut, the only two story building in the village. The minotaur motions for the party to stop, before lumbering over to the hut and saying something.
A few minutes pass, and an old, grizzled minotaur woman hobbles out, a pronounced limp that she supports with a long walking stick intricately carved from a whole young aspen tree, mystical tokens and charms hanging from it's length. Her fur is mostly white, and one eye is a milky white that suggests she's partially blind.
Her voice is rough, but has a certain maternal charm to it. Her Common is good, but oddly accented, "So, Tosk tells me you all come with the air of strangeness. Why have you come to our lands?"
Maxy nods politely and states matter-of-factly. "Hello there. I am Maxilara, or Maxy for short. We know that you moved here recently and some of our friends in the area would like to know what your intentions are. If you intend to be friendly neighbors, we'd like to welcome you to the area."
Old Bet nods. Her voice is somber, "We wish to keep to ourselves, to herd our sheep, to raise our children strong and humble, to worship the Wind and the Sky for their gifts. But our sacred stones have been defiled. Each time we have gone to praise the Wind and the Sky, a strange mist roll in. Some of our number vanish. Sometimes blood remains to tell a grim tale, but most often nothing remains at all. Shapes can be seen, lurking in the mist, sinuous and lithe, moving with deadly grace. We cannot even find them to fight them, let alone bring our lost home and give their bones back to the soil."
The wizened old minotaur grips her staff tightly, "We have tried to solve it ourselves. We could not. We tried to contact a group of travelling merchants. They slaughtered one of our scouts, thinking us like our cousins in the other clans, demon-worshipping raiders who care only for slaughter and plunder. But now, you come offering help. I speak for all of the Cloudsplitter clan when I say that we accept."
Zaborjca stands there, a bit taciturn. He's not so sure about how the nearby people would feel about him being involved in minotaurs settling nearby, especially if he helped. But he keeps his mouth shut for now.
"And your wishes are as pure as the gifts of the wind and sky." Ghorza smoothly responded. "It is a travesty that the merchants attacked first without asking questions. In truth, we came because we heard of your clan, and wanted to ensure that you and yours came in peace, unlike the raiders who more commonly descend upon our people. I believe that I speak for all of us when we say that we would be glad to help, should it be within our power. Is there any more you can tell us about these lurkers in the mists, or about the stone itself? And are there more stones than the ones currently haunted?" To get the clan to move on, or to at least figure out how all could live in peace, they had to know more about these sacred stones.
Maxy nods. "A holy place in nature being defiled by murder. A horrible thing. I would be happy to help put a stop to this." Her jaw sets firmly.
Ghorza feels that her offer of aid is sincerely appreciated by the minotaurs, and that her acknowledgement that their attack by the merchants was not their own fault has gone over quite well.
She's also quite certain that Old Bet has told the party what she knows.
The old minotaur shaman nods, "The lurkers are hard to spot, even from those of us with the keenest eyes. What can be seen is strange, almost serpentine. Flashes of claws, scales, fangs in the fog. I do not think this to be a haunting. The spirits are calm around our sacred stones, we make sure of that, give them our thanks and what offerings we can spare, and our ritual dances on the moons and the solstices. The spirits are quiet, only flaring in anger after the attacks when those who worship them are taken. This is something else. If you wish, I can take to you to our sacred stones, see if you can find something we could not."