Hearing Jenkin's hesitation, Odelai holds up the shrunken head, "I suspect this is worth far more and we can sell it without guilt... though it may be more fun to use than sell." Her face falls somewhere between innocence and mischievousness.
It is Penny's turn to look a little doubtful as the head is waved around, a slight look of disgust on her face. But she holds her tongue, and nods.
"There was a name?" Penelope asked, then once she is told "Oh them..." and she relates the tails she had heard growing up.
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"Ooooh, wait, that's the Larko family there's that playground song about? Larks, larks, larks/your nest is on fire/fly away from your funeral pyre... I never knew the witchy part of it, though."
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Penelope brightened up at the song, opening her mouth to sing along. Until his connection made her mind catch up. Her face turns ashen "I... never realized that song was about a family being burned to death in their home."
That moment when you realize a beloved childhood thing is truly just wrong.
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The gnome puts away the magical shrunken head with a frown and makes a comment so dry one practically needs a skin of water afterwards, "Your town certainly has a colorful history."
Pushing aside, for the time being, her visceral reaction to torching a family associated with witchcraft, Odelai homes in on the events. "So... we have a blood feud between the founding families. And Ulizmila allegedly killed and staked out lumberjacks publicly in town and at the edge of the forest decades ago. Now, Ulizmila goes missing and someone is staking out fey folk at the edge of the forest. That seems likely more than a coincidence. If, in this blood feud, the Larkos were on the side of the fey... it would seem that someone is concluding some old business. Who were the families on the other side of the feud?"
Penelope puts aside her distress and thinks.
The last descendant of the Samkils, the young Jebrika, was killed during the Hobgoblin Strife of around 50 years ago. Some people say that he was actually killed by Thalsin Kreed.
The eradication of the Larkos left Thuldrin Kreed and his son Jurin the only surviving descendants of the three founding families, and the only owners of the region's Lumber Consortium chopping rights. Brutal is an accurate description of the Kreed family. And it is assumed the Kreed famliy had something to do with the mass burning that took out the Larkos family.
"Once there were Three. The Samkils, the Larkos, and... the Kreed." the last said with a brimming hostility. Penelope was a bit of an anti-bully if truth be told (and if anyone with eyes and ears hadn't noticed), so the Kreed... well someday, they would probably have to kill her. "Now there is only the Kreed. Thuldrin and his son Jurin."
The others, even Elowen who stays wisely in the woods, had probably heard about the Brutality associated with those names. But Odelai had the pleasure of living elsewhere, so she finished. "I have been taught, rightly, to not speak ill of people without proof of it to back up my words, so, unfortunately, I cannot say a word about either of those two At All."
Witches and fey arent neccesarily on the same side, but if they were, staking out fey would be one method of luring and provoking a witch, likely hag given the time passed, into a trap. Svetlana speaks up.
As an Irriseni, I have a degree of familiarity with witches, albeit not with hags. If you fight one, doing so on favorable ground and not in her hut is a good idea. Her pov. is quite mercenary
Staking up people? Sounds very much hag not witch like, normal witches dont have a lot of physical strength, hags definitly do.
I know 2 witches, both of them from my time in the Irriseni military. Olga was a vile piece of work, but Vladislava the valiant...
She changes her voice, speaking with a far more pronounced Irriseni accent, that sounds simultaneously aristocratic and incredibly angry.
She speaks, evidently struggling to translate some choice Irriseni or maybe abyssal terms into common, before switching back to her own accent.
Anyone who says this to a mighty demons face, and gets away with it because
Her accent switches again
Definitly has some redeeming features. Seriously, most members of Irrisens military know her extremely insulting answers to invaders by heart. Outside of such things, she was a fairly reasonable boss, heck, even ate the same food as us grunts. Got recalled to Whitethrone and was never heard from again... Well shucks... She finishes in her own voice.
Nipple hand and sea food? Probably was a Glabrezu demon, as they have pincer like claws and an extra pair of hands where a mortal body would have nipples. A mighty foe, telling this to its face indeed takes some major courage.
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Odelai gives Penny a long look. She couldn’t fault to girl for living up to her values. She’s consistent, I’ll give her that.
”So, you’ve heard more about the… Kreed history in specific I’m thinking, but it’s rumors - and you don’t traffic in rumors. I respect that…” She adds with a note of humor, ”It’s irritating but I respect it. Does anybody else here with a, uh, more pliant moral compass care to share the local gossip or half-truths?”
”Witches and fey aren’t necessarily on the same side…”
”That’s true, and why I said ‘If’.”
”I have a degree of familiarity with witches, albeit not with hags. If you fight one, doing so on favorable ground and not in her hut is a good idea… …Staking up people? Sounds very much hag not witch like, normal witches don’t have a lot of physical strength, hags definitely do.”
An odd smile emerges from Odelai’s face as a witch being schooled about the characteristics of witches from a cowan - a non-witch. ”I’ll keep all that in mind.”
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As Odelai says 'more pliant moral compass', Penelope automatically looks at Jenkin, but then feels bad about it so she quickly looks away with a flustered rose of guilt coloring her pointed ears.
"Um... I think Penny has it covered."
As yet another local dances around the issue, Odelai *hrmphs* in frustration. I should’a packed a damn lunch for this!
With a gleam in her eye, she pulls the shrunken head from her pouch. Conspiratorially, she whispers into its ear. The thing’s eyes fly open as it listens. She presents the head toward Jenkin and…
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The cold blue eyes of the head lock on the fighter. The face contorts as the lips strain to break the thread sealing them. With a rip the seams give and a sepulchral voice emerges.
”The next time you are this unhelpful, the old woman here is going to stuff me in your bedroll for a goodnight kiss.”
The head’s eyes shut and the thread reseals the lips.
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The flush eared girl disappears, replaced by a stern set of lips and a ferocity of eyes, as she steps quickly between her childhood friend and that Thing. Her eyes don't bore into it, but to the holder.
"I told you who was on the other side of that conflict. I implied there was nothing good, that I know of, to say about the Kreed. They were the enforcers for the Three. Larkos were business, Samkils fronted the money, and the Kreeds the muscle. Now that the others are all gone they own the lumber rights." her eyes flash in confrontation "Is there anything else you need to know that would settle your irritation and cease with the threats."
Jenkin raises an eyebrow. "You are very, very creepy, Odelai..."
You got a magic head? Can he breath cones of cold? Vladislava's snow leopard familiar could! Svetlana looks at the severed head ith great interest.
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"I told you who was on the other side of that conflict. I implied there was nothing good, that I know of, to say about the Kreed. They were the enforcers for the Three. Larkos were business, Samkils fronted the money, and the Kreeds the muscle. Now that the others are all gone they own the lumber rights." her eyes flash in confrontation "Is there anything else you need to know that would settle your irritation and cease with the threats."
Jenkin raises an eyebrow. "You are very, very creepy, Odelai..."
Odelai, who’d been buoyant and suppressing her laughter til now – sinks. Her belly feels full of cold iron and her mouth tastes of ash. What she thought was a good laugh seemed to be something else. She needed a moment to think, to gather herself. She casts her eyes down, thinking. Her thoughts emerge as a self-reflective mutter, ”I wouldn’t threaten Jenkin, I like him. He’s a good lad, perhaps a little rudderless but aren’t we all at times. But…” She glances at the fighter’s face and quickly looks away, ”He’s not happy… so is Penny right? I thought it was a Seelie joke but maybe it was Unseelie and I can’t see it. What does that tell me about me?”
She shifts to the low-hanging fruit she can handle while processing what had happened.
”You got a magic head? Can he breath cones of cold? Vladislava's snow leopard familiar could!” Svetlana looks at the severed head with great interest.
The witch hands Svetlana the lemon-sized skull. ”It can’t do that, sadly. You tell it a short message you want it to say and then tell it the conditions under which it should repeat the message… and it does it.”
She looks at Jenkin, eyes not quite meeting his. ”I am creepy. I didn’t mean… I’m sorry about that. Sometimes I go too far. It was supposed to be a joke not… what it was. I’ll be more careful in future. I wouldn’t threaten you, not in a real way.”
Odelai turns to the Paladin. ”I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to force you to say what you withheld before. I thought I was being… doesn’t matter. I apologize.” She lapses into silence, unsure what more to say, if anything. There was more to be said about the larger situation as well. The ritual killings, the possible ‘sides’ in this war, even the history of the town – it was a disaster waiting to happen. But she couldn’t determine that without knowing more and her mercurial mood had just derailed the conversation. She couldn’t see a way to get it back on the tracks.
Seelie = ‘light’ fey that were friendly, helpful, and while tending to be mischievous their pranks were largely harmless or embarrassing.
Unseelie = ‘dark’ fey that ranged from untrusting to outright hostile to normal people with a ‘mischievous’ side whose pranks went from profoundly ‘mean-spirited’ to homicidal depending on the species of fey.
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The warrior-ess standing before injustice deflates just as much as the gnomish witch before her as the reality that she had completely misread the situation sets into her heart.
Aghast at her own reaction, Penelope starts to step back, the desire to hide from her mistake screaming inside her. But no no no no, she can't she CAN'T, her brain yells into that screaming.
Instead, she steps forward, bending low, grasping the other woman's shoulder, and apologizes "I... I am used to bullies and bad people of all sorts, and that has colored me. You are not them, a fact I've seen and know, so I am sorry Odelal the White, for misunderstanding and mule headed-ness." she feels like the scum under the foot of a troll with gout and fungus in all its toes. Her cheeks are on fire, her lip worried between her lips. She thinks wanting to apologize more, but she knows that path, knows it well, so she sighs long "I can't ask you to forgive me, but I'll do my best to earn it anyways." lifting her hand away she decides now would be a great time to resume her place at the end of the line. Maybe a few hundred steps behind them all.
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Odelai could only nod at the paladin's apology, unwilling to trust herself to say anything right. Almost every time she opened her mouth - it was like a verbal tangleburn bag that scorched more allies.
So she watched Penelope take the unneeded weight of guilt she hadn't truly earned on her shoulders and walk to the back of the line... and Odelai felt all the worse for it.
I'll say the right thing to her, as soon as I figure it out.
The small witch notes the encroaching darkness and knows the team won't walk too much further today. She slides off the tiger with a pat of thanks, choosing to walk alongside the team until they stop for the evening. Being slower than the rest, it will only be a matter of time before Penelope catches up to her. Hopefully, she'll find the right words by then.
Elowen is silent through most of the exchange, watching Odelai try to goad the others for hr own amusement to varying success. The gnome definitely reminded her of unseelie fey she'd met, finding enjoyment in other creatures' discomfort, though so far not exactly dangerous. Though she did seem to side with the Tatzlewyrm that almost killed poor Jenkin.
'That one bears watching. This could all be a game to her, playing with their emotions.'
"We should make camp before we lose the last of the light."
Hmm, there are a number of flying head monsters, with some disguise, ghost sounds and like, dancing lights we could try bluffing that is a powerful undead that is under our control!
Hmmm, I dont have light as a cantrip, I do have prestigitation for some minor illusory things. No ghost sound or light or dancing lights on me though. I am ok but not particularly skilled at making disguises.
Svetlana is not in the slightest upset.
Default Alias strike, dont worry Svetlana is not a mythic Succubus.
"Well..." Jenkin says, conciliatory in his own manner, "Creepy can be good, too. I mean, I couldn't keep a dragon at bay just by glaring at it, right? It's all good, just don't.... go sticking any severed body parts into my bedroll and we'll call it even." He nods, assured, in his mind, at least, that a peace accord has been reached and continues on the march without thinking of it again. "Agreed," he says, some time later, when Elowen suggests camping down.
Elowen silently finds a place for you all to layout your various bedrolls. The little fennec hops onto Jenkin's bag the moment he sets it down. Shifting to keel the injured leg stretched out. Large eyes watch the various two-legs go through the motions of moving leaves and branches. Pulling out rations after tucking themselves against trees or bushes. Holding your breath and waiting. The sound, now so loud you don't know how the others are sleeping. Maybe its nerves. But the noise fades rather quickly.[/spoiler]
Sleep is the best medicine for a maimed paw. Tilting his head to the side and looking at the massive tiger, "Safe to sleep?"
[spoiler=Elowen and Swetlana in the second watch] Its dark and quiet. The occasional squeak as a rodent's life is cut short by the many owls that live in this forest. Again, there is the sound of howling. A few miles away but closer than last time. But you are a big enough group that a hopefully small family pack will leave you alone should you meet.
Penelope barely sat up from against the tree before the lovely little bunny was staring at her. A moment later the critter is gone. In the wake of its flight all is silent, before a low growl rumbles over the camp sight, drawing Jenkin's eyes to the half-elf "It's been days without a proper meal." she admits sheepishly hand over her stomach, imagining the cute thing over the fire.
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Drooling? Oh no, the vasall of my vasall is starving! And if he takes too much damage, my favorite two leg will take damage instead! Clearly my duty as liege calls here! I shall use this to improve the position of my well tailed vasall over the two legs
Pssst The tiger makes a noise, patting the Fennec with his tail
Whatsup boss The Fennec answered by looking around quizzingly
Sleep on this, its fluffier then the sleeping bag! The tiger deposits something net to the sleeping bag.
Oh it sure is! The fennec happily rolls up.
You could have sworn that your Fennec went to sleep on your sleeping bag, but now he sleeps on top of a rather large rabbit, the rabit clearly killed by something at least medium sized.
The night passes. A surprise rabbit is found that can be cooked up for breakfast. Camo is broken down methodically. The morning is cool and its a few hours of walking to reach the ruins.
Elowen easily leads a occasionally winding path through the woods. At around the two-hour mark of the long hike there are wolf prints spotted. Not surprising though. Seems like just a pair of wolves.
But as always walking in a large group, with a predator, most creatures of the woods won't bother you all.
Four hours walking leads you to your final destination. To where the mushrooms you need to hopefully save Falcons Hollow.
Sitting squat at the foot of an imposing mountain, a ruined monastery comes into view between ancient, gnarled trees. Made of simple stone blocks, worn smooth with the passage of time, the stout building is falling apart. Sections of the slanted shale roof have collapsed, and portions of the outer wall have crumbled. Weeds and wild thorn plants run rampant across the field leading up to the place, leaving only the slightest indication of a path that ends at the ruined front doors. Beyond, an overgrown yard sits in shadow.
The contented smile from the taste of rabbit and the pride in the little fennec's eyes drained away looking at their last stop. "While there is something oddly beautiful when nature reclaims structures, I can still see why people think this place haunted."
The gnome glances around at the structure, the general area, and at the sky.
"We should start looking for the mushrooms." Penny says, listening to her words drift across the silent ruins. Her mind goes back to think about what they should be looking for. "What do they look like again?" she slips her bow on to her back and draws her longsword. It is not ideal for chopping back weeds and thorns, but it is what she has.
Odelai nods. "If I recollect rightly, mushrooms tend to like shaded areas. I'll try the yard." The gnome walks the scant path towards the shadowy courtyard, hunting for mushrooms while keeping her eyes skinned for dangers.
"The Ironbloom mushrooms should have rust colored cap, growing dear iron deposits." Elowen replies to Penelope.
Tall grasses and chunks of stone debris have all but overtaken this small yard. Off to one side, a wooden stable has collapsed into a mound of rotting timbers and moldy straw. The outer wall on the east side has also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard—a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower in the southeast corner.
There is something mostly obscured by the well in the upper corner of the yard.
Some of these tracks look reptilian while others are clearly made by four-legged mammals. The reptilian trail always leads to the main entrance and then out into the wild while the mammal tracks leave by either the main entrance or through the hole in the eastern wall.
Penelope uses her sword to move plants aside, avoiding hacking a path if possible. The slow methodical process leads her to notice the tracks. "Oh buttered bread..." gesturing to the nearest companion she points to "Wolf tracks... coming from..." her eyes track toward the building. "That hole in the eastern wall and there..." she points to the main entrance.
A moment later of even more looking she sees more tracks "Reptilian?" She looks around, then points from main entrance to the wild "Taking that path."
She isn't completely sure about it all so part of the pointing out is to check up on her tracking ability. Many of the others being so much more at home in the wilderness.
Odelai snoops around the stables, kicking aside the moldy straw, "We've got a pony here... long dead."
Pretty much as soon as the group gets to the ruins, Jenkin draws both axes and takes on a 'ready' stance. "I'm pretty much useless at nature stuff, so I'll keep an eye in case there's any more living cauldrons around..." At Penelope's dual track discoveries, he groans a bit. "Or wolves, I guess. Or more dragons..." He looks down at the fennec, to see if it's displaying any signs of detecting animal spoor in the area.