Sometimes it was hard for Voronoy to stop being part of the militia. In part because she didn't want to - she believed she was on duty the whole time. And also because she felt a duty to uphold the law.
So, the children running and the laughing - plus the wet bucket - made her immediately suspect not so much foul play as tomfoolery. And in her limited experience, pranks could escalate with age and turn into something more sinister.
But before she could make any reaction, she heard Casina and appreciated it was just a game. Not that Voronoy was good at games, so she did not naturally join in the merriment - but at least she did not shut it down.
Instead, she smiled and watched, enjoying the simple fun and games that were unfolding.
Maidie's brother casually tosses the weapons and quiver to the two apprentice wizards, then motions for them to follow.
He strides towards the commotion, moving to intercept Casina's fleeing cousins. As they round a corner, he deftly grabs a boy in each hand, hoisting the squirming youngsters off their feet.
"Alright! Playtime's over. I need to talk to the big kids about grown-up stuff," he says with a wry smile as he strides into the street, holding the pair out in outstretched arms to dangle off the ground for a moment before releasing his grip, sending them tumbling into a pile on the ground.
he barks, sending everyone under the age of 16 running for cover.
"That goes for you too, little miss Sneaky-toes." he says in Moon's direction, making it obvious that her mishap has given her away.
He moves to stand under a large tree, leaning on the trunk as he waits for everyone to come closer.
"Listen. As most of you know, I was part of the group that went to retrieve the Everflame five years ago. I was exactly as young and foolish as you are now, so please bear with me as I try to pound a bit of sense into you all. Not that it will matter much, because we didn't really listen when the previous questers tried to do the same to us."
He pauses for a moment, appeartly trying to compose just the right words to penetrate the collective feeling of youthful invincibility.
"The quest for the Everflame is not a picnic. It is important that you understand that. There is a reason that only the most capable are chosen to go. There are very real dangers in the wilderness between here and the tomb, and plenty of nasty surprises inside for those who stray from their task and decide to poke around where they shouldn't."
"You have to be able to focus and trust each other. On our quest, I almost stumbled over a mother bear with cubs because I was too busy horsing around with Aaron Coobler and Lizzie Roundtree. It took all the animal handling skills that Arnama Lastrid had taught me to allow us to back away before she attacked. If I had been unable to calm her, she would have mauled us all beyond the help of any kind of healing we had available."
Garth let's his gaze glide over each of the teenagers before him, before he continues.
"Once we made it to the tomb itself, Derick Valindir took it upon himself to pry open the lid of an ossuary to find out if there were any skeletal remains inside. It was empty, but the blade trap in the lid nearly took his arm off at the elbow. Even during the war, I never heard anyone scream like that. If Fror hadn't been there to cast a healing spell, he would have bleed out right there on the stone floor."
Garth sighs, aware that he has put a serious, but temporary, dampener on the youngster's mood.
"I guess, what I mean to say is...be careful out there, stick together and try to get everyone back alive."
The day carries on with those selected to go on the quest, one of whom dearly wishing she'd worn something thicker by the end of Garth's lecture, enjoying the day and preparing for the next morning. Sleep comes as a late autumn rainstorm rolls in.
Damn comes, cold and gray. The clouds from last night's storm have not broken, and their steely bottoms hold the promise of more rain. The wind is cold and biting, the first breath of winter coming from the north. Your breath steams in the air as you gather in the square, as does most of the town. The mood is somber as the ceremonies begin. Mayor Uptal stands before you and the assembled townsfolk, resplendent in his best robes.
"Over a hundred and seventy years have passed since Ekat Kassen and a band of a hundred men left to confront the mercenary warlord Asar Vergas. The battle was hard fought and bloody, but Asar was slain and his legion shattered. In the fighting, though, many of Kassen's people were slain, and Ekat Kassen was mortally wounded. Every year, to remember his legacy, his sacrifice, and lives the men he lead laid down to keep their families, their community safe, we send some of our own to seek the Everflame, the fire that burns eternally over Ekat Kassen's final resting place, and bring back a part of it so that it may light our way through the darkest days of winter and into the rebirth of spring. This year, eight of our brave, young townsfolk have been chosen to complete this task. We pray for their safety and swift return."
Father Prasst begins to pray to Erastil as those that have been mentors and teachers come up to each of you and hand you a well-made pack filled with supplies and gear and place a heavy cloak around your shoulders.
"May Erastil bless you with the wisdom and skill you need to overcome any obstacle. May Old Deadeye watch over your and guide you back home safely," Father Prasst finishes as you stand ready to depart.
"Go to the Crypt of the Everflame, brave souls of Kassen," the mayor tells you, "And come back to Kassen with a piece of that eternal fire."
The assembled townsfolk watch as you depart, following you along the southern road until you reach the edge of town. Wishes for luck and pleas for caution follow you as you leave Kassen behind and set off for the Crypt of the Everflame.
When you do have a chance to look into the packs, you do find a number of items, the most curious of which is a strip of parchment that looks to have a portion of a map on it.
That strip was indeed part of a map. Specifically, a map to the Crypt of the Everflame.
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Moon strides to the ceremony in her elven gear – both artistic and practical. The green high tunic below the elven-forged chain shirt dampens the clinking and prevents abrasion from long wear. Her darker pants and bespoke boots are equally resistant to wear and designed to prevent chafing and abrasion. Slung diagonally down her back is the curve blade. Cross-slung is her bow. Her hair is up in a serviceable bun, held in place by a pair of lacquered black hashi (箸).
She didn’t know what to expect of the ceremony. Much of it seemed like ritual, dogma, largely devoid of meaning… Then Arnama laid the winter cloak – like a mantle – on her shoulders with a small pat. Her mentor’s look was… faith, responsibility, and perhaps hope. Their relationship was changed. She glanced at faces in the audience and saw change there, as well. Who she was in relation to these people and this town was different and would likely be different still when they returned with the Everflame. This was a passage. Moon and her mentor shared an unguarded moment… then she did something that she would never think to do with Arnama. She leaned in and kissed the older woman on the cheek, whispering, ”Thank you for all that you have tried to teach me.”
The mayor said something that Moon would never recall but it snapped her from the moment… and she knew it was time to move on. She left with the others, casting surreptitious glances at the gathered townsfolk. Her father wasn’t there. She wasn’t surprised but she had hoped.
Once they were out of sight of the townsfolk, Moon stops briefly to check her pack. Arnama had drummed it into her head:
Only a fool enters the wild not knowing what tools she’s got with her... that includes your companions.
All the supplies were typical for a trek, except for the curious strip of parchment. She looks at it carefully. ”I have a piece of a map. Do any of you have something like that?”
The dwarf strides confidently up to Moon, a piece of parchment in his hands. He looks for a match along one of the edges.
"I do have a similar piece. We should put our heads and papers together to get through this."
The dwarf extends a right hand that is well calloused. He smiles and makes a bow.
"Bimbur at your service."
Not sure which gesture of greeting to accept - she does both with a hesitant smile. Moon clasps Bimbur's hand and offers him a bow. "Akechi Moon, daughter of Akechi Temue. Please, call me Moon. It is an honor to be on this quest with you."
She pulls out a well-worn compass and moves to stand next to the dwarf. Moon looks at his map piece, trying to identify some key locations and orient them, along with her piece, using the compass.
Casina stood and gave Amali a little push, “But I think maybe you guys should head on home. This might be important.” She strode forward and cast a glance at “Sneaky-Toes” but otherwise made a point to not look at any of the others gathering. Casina was painfully aware of her current sodden state now that the skeleton game was over.
When Garth wrapped up his little speech, Casina turned to address the younger Henrod sibling, Maidie, “Glad to see that all the practice he’s put into telling this story over the last five years has finally paid off.” Then, addressing Betzolte, “I’m going to go dry off. I hope you’re ready for tomorrow!”
Loreli Constacur, Casina’s aunt by blood, had been the one to present the young paladin with her supplies. The woman gave Casina a little hug from behind after placing the cloak over her shoulders. “Your mother would be so proud of you, Cass,” she whispered.
At the edge of town, Casina produced her piece of the map. “I think I recognize some of the landmarks on here.”
Voronoy was used to military life. And taking orders. And being ordered about. And often in a very unfriendly voice.
But Maidie's brother's speech made even her feel like a small child, and she wondered how the others might have taken it. But, when you shook off the tone of the monologue, it was all sensible advice and came from a place of caring.
###
The following day, Voronoy assembled with the others. Once again, her training meant she listened to the mayor's words solemnly. She felt, as she always did, that she was representing both herself and the town militia whenever somewhere in public.
Once the ceremony was at an end, she took her backpack and quickly checked it over before stowing everything back with meticulous care. Then she took a look at the parchment. It was clearly part of a map and she reflected on what she knew, to see if there was more she could add to the single strip.
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Maidie felt her cheeks flush with embarrasment at Garth's rough handling of Casina's cousins. And the feeling didn't lessen as she stood with the others and listened to his speech. Still, she knew her brother and he had never been one for grandstanding or drama.
I guess we'd better put aside the childish games when we head out tomorrow... she thought, then turned to respond to Casina's remark. There was that flush in her cheeks again.
"Well...The quest could not have been all bad. After all, he ended up marrying Lizzie Roundtree." she says, trying her best to sound casual and failing miserably.
When Casina mentions getting ready, she remarks "Oh yeah, we have to study our spellbooks before we leave tomorrow, Betzolte. I'm prepearing grease, mage armor and obscuring mist. They are recommended as good multi-purpose spells in Lessons on Tactical Spellcasting by..." she then realizes that she is no longer included in the conversation and mutters a subdued farewell before she hurries off home.
Halfway to the house she catches up with Garth. "Why did you have to DO that? Don't you know how EMBARRASING that was?" she hisses.
Garth does not turn to look at her as he marches on. "If a little embarrasment is what it takes to bring you all back alive, then it's worth it, Maidie." he says quietly.
--
As the Mayor Father Prasst spoke, Maidie stood slightly shivering in the chill morning air, not really listening.
Tugging at her cloak, she snuck a quick peek to check that Tanglefoot was snug and secure in the small satchel she had slung over her shoulder. For extra protection, she had placed him in the metal traveling case that Betzolte had made for her in her father's forge.
She had spent some time this morning braiding her red hair in a practical braid instead of the twin pig-tails she usually sported, and dressed in sensible traveling clothes and a brown vest with enough pockets to fit all the assorted objects she had a habit of collecting for further study or use in her alchemical work.
As she hefted the backpack with supplies, she grunted under the weight and barely managed to sling it round to her back. By all the gods, this thing weighs a ton and a half. I'd give my spellbook for a Handy Haversack right now...
Her discomfort increased as soon as the group set off. It was not long before she struggled on at the rear of the group, redfaced and utterly misrable. This is ridicoulous...I literally master the art of teleportation (although only 5 ft at a time), and here I am huffing along like a mangy pack mule. How far IS it to this thrice-blasted tomb?!
When Moon and Casina display their knack for navigation, she quickly offers them her part of the map. "I may be able to decipher arcane scrolls, but this is meaningless to me...you'd better take it or we'll be hopelessly lost by noon." she says, gasping slightly for breath.
As the group starts piecing together the map, Moon notes Maidie's struggles and steps in. "Your pack looks unbalanced. Let's see how it was loaded."
Not taking 'no' for an answer, she shepherds Maidie a few steps away and assists with getting her pack off. Moon looks through her gear, speaking so the others can hear, "All the weight is to one side, no wonder it's a chore."
The ranger pulls the section of the campsite kit (14lbs) from the spellcaster's pack. She quickly slides it into her own bag then redistributes the rest of Maidie's gear. She hefts the much lighter bag for Maidie to try on. "Is that any better?"
The relief is clearly visible both in Maidie’s posture and facial expression.
”Much better! Thank you…Moon, right? Or is it Akechi? You seem to know your way around the woods well enough.
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At the ceremony...
Grobradon may not be dressed fancy, but he does have a wool scarf on his mother insisted he wear, and it's a rather nice one. He has his hair, normally unkempt long and wild, braided out of respect for the ceremony too.
The cold doesn't SEEM to bother him much, but more likely he just accepts it as part of nature, no point in making a fuss about it.
His mother maybe blind, but her eyes never leave the ceremony as she beams with pride.
"Over a hundred and seventy years have passed since Ekat Kassen and a band of a hundred men left to confront the mercenary warlord Asar Vergas. The battle was hard fought and bloody, but Asar was slain and his legion shattered. In the fighting, though, many of Kassen's people were slain, and Ekat Kassen was mortally wounded. Every year, to remember his legacy, his sacrifice, and lives the men he lead laid down to keep their families, their community safe, we send some of our own to seek the Everflame, the fire that burns eternally over Ekat Kassen's final resting place, and bring back a part of it so that it may light our way through the darkest days of winter and into the rebirth of spring. This year, eight of our brave, young townsfolk have been chosen to complete this task. We pray for their safety and swift return."
Somehow those come back every year, I don't we're in much danger He thinks but does not disrepect the ceremony by saying so aloud. Besides, Ekan Kassen was clearly a bad ass, and Grobradon is still a young enough man to be impressed by that fact alone.
"May Erastil bless you with the wisdom and skill you need to overcome any obstacle. May Old Deadeye watch over your and guide you back home safely," Father Prasst finishes as you stand ready to depart.
Olmira puts the cloak around his shoulders and whispers, "Gozreh too, may your path be greener than it is red."
He nods at that, and whispers back "I'll not shame your teachings, mentor."As he gets his supplies, and they turn to leave as a group, his mother calls out, "I'll be fine, son." Clearly his attempts to hide his worry have failed, "Take care."
His uncle neers at him, and mouths 'good riddance' but if any of the adults notice, they don't say much. His cousin however waves as if to counter that "Make us proud, Cousin!"
He smirks at that.
When they clear out from the town and start to make introductions, he shrugs, and points at himself "Grobradon Ventar... I think most of us have met at least once. It's a small town." His town isn't dismissive, so much as brusquely practical.
Then Moon points out the bits of paper and he nods ,and gives his a look over
He nods to Moon and Casina "Yeah, I recognize this area I think, Treesong told me of it. Here, I think it goes with that part." He offers it over to Moon "You want to be the one to put it together? or shall I?"
A glance at Maidie's struggles, but Moon's got that.
The relief is clearly visible both in Maidie’s posture and facial expression.
”Much better! Thank you…Moon, right? Or is it Akechi? You seem to know your way around the woods well enough.
The tall half-elf nods, encouraged that the load on Maidie is bearable. "It's Moon. Akechi is my family name. If your pack gets unbalanced again, let me know. Over the next days, we will have to see how well I have learned these woods." It's both a truth and setting an expectation for Maidie to consider.
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It is then that Grobradon's eyes fall on the potions, "Pharasma's shears, look at this. I recognize Tang's scratch marks on the glass! These are potions meant to heal wounds." He is surprised at the generosity implied, "Maybe he expects to get them back so it's no big sacrifice, or maybe this is actually going to be more than a cake walk." He oddly cheers up at that. "I was feeling like a damned show pony but this? This promises we might actually get in danger. Exciting." Then at his unseemly display of actual enthusiasm, he coughs "Course, there's always a chance of accident or danger in the wilds period. But still."
He nods to Moon and Casina "Yeah, I recognize this area I think, Treesong told me of it. Here, I think it goes with that part." He offers it over to Moon "You want to be the one to put it together? or shall I?"
Moon returns to the mapping effort. She laughs at his question. "We can lay it out together. I just wish we had a way to stitch it into a single map when it's complete... That could be a lake. Right? It looks like it appears across at least three sections of the map."
”Oh…we do actually have a way of putting the pieces back together. Or at least, we will have tomorrow, when I can prepare my spells again. There’s a simple cantrip that allows you to mend broken things. I just did not think we’d need it today. Betzolte, you didn’t prepare mending by any chance, did you? Maidie interjects, obviously happy to be somewhat useful.
He nods to Moon and Casina "Yeah, I recognize this area I think, Treesong told me of it. Here, I think it goes with that part." He offers it over to Moon "You want to be the one to put it together? or shall I?"Moon returns to the mapping effort. She laughs at his question. "We can lay it out together. I just wish we had a way to stitch it into a single map when it's complete... That could be a lake. Right? It looks like it appears across at least three sections of the map."
”Oh…we do actually have a way of putting the pieces back together. Or at least, we will have tomorrow, when I can prepare my spells again. There’s a simple cantrip that allows you to mend broken things. I just did not think we’d need it today. Betzolte, you didn’t prepare mending by any chance, did you? Maidie interjects, obviously happy to be somewhat useful.
"If we had some back drop and glue we could..wait. Good idea, Maidie . I'd like to try. Everyone, get your parchment bits of the map out and let's put it together in the proper order"
With the map laid out, Grobradon begins to speak to the map, dangling the wooden symbol of Gozreh over it, which sways first widdershins then clockwise "Before you were map, you were paper. Before you were paper, you were wood. Before you were wood, you were tree. Remember the joining, remember the unity. Remember how one limb merged with the trunk and the trunk lead down to the roots, and up to other limbs. Remember, emulate, be whole in your new form which is map..but a whole map."
He glances at Maidie as he checks their results, "No offense to you or Betzolte, Maidie, but I had it ready today." Pragmatic about it.
After some investigation, you find that each of you have been given a piece of a map that shows the way to the Crypt of the Everyflame. Moon is able to figure out that the lake she pointed out is The Gray Lake as the map is assembled. Grobradon's magic makes it whole once more after he, Moon, and Casina are able to determine which of the pieces goes where.
They are also able to see that the trip will take a little over two days, arriving around mid morning the day after tomorrow if the group can manage a good pace. They also see a potential shortcut, going south instead of west after reaching the Gray Lake. It could take off as much as half-a-day off the journey, but the risk of getting lost is also higher.
- Marked trail is a DC 10 Survival Check to navigate.
- Possible shortcut is a DC 20 Survival Check to navigate.
- Map provides a +2 bonus to Survival Checks to find your way to the Crypt or back to Kassen.
- No taking 10 on the navigation check.
Throughout the ceremony, Culver is uncharacteristically quiet, and to anyone who knows him even a little, it seems that his eyes might be on the edge of tearing up.
As the group assembles, however, his usual boistrous nature returns. Still, his entire demeanor has a far more serious feel than usual. He doesn't even argue about wanting to put the puzzle together himself. Instead, when prompted, the halfling rogue simply hands his piece of the parchment over to half-orc Druid. "Here ya go, Grob."
Once the map is assembled, and they're all looking it over, Culver makes a point of literally pointing to the possible shortcut. "I dunno if that'd be the best route, but it might be the quickest!"
Moon considers, ”It will be quicker, a day shorter if we use it both ways. But it may be more difficult.” She looks to the others, ”What do you prefer?”
Grobradon's offer to cast the mending spell takes Maidie by surprise.
I had totally forgotten that we are three spellcasters in this group, not two.
As he performs the spell, she stands by and watches, taking mental notes on the differences between divine and arcane magic.
Hmm....his method is certainly different, but there are similarities in the way he uses a a combination of verbal and somatic components to direct the magical energies. It's more primitive and primal, but clearly requires focus and concentration. Perhaps he is a bit more than just another wild woodsman.
To the already exhausted Maidie, the prospect of saving a whole day of walking sounds appealing indeed. However, Garth's warning about the wilderness is still fresh in her mind.
"I'd love to take a shortcut, but shorter does not mean safer. There may be more dangers lurking off the beaten track. Then again, we seem to have an abundance of both woodcraft, magic and healing at our disposal."
Feeling slightly uncomfortable - not by the climate but because of the circumstances - Voronoy remains on the outside of the group. In town, she was a symbol of authority - someone who no doubt was seen as a figure to stop things happening as opposed to making them occur.
But now she was feeling awkward, a bit of a fish out of water. So, she was more than happy for the others to take the lead. No doubt they will need her at some point in the future, when she would step up. But she was not one to speak just to hear the sound of her own voice.
But a decision had been called for and for a moment, she prevaricated before finally sitting on the fence!
"I'll go with the majority," she offered.
"I'd love to take a shortcut, but shorter does not mean safer. There may be more dangers lurking off the beaten track."
Moon makes subtle adjustments to her pack while people consider the choices. "That's true. But there could be fewer or merely different dangers in the wild. We cannot know." She adds, "Grobradon is steeped in wood-lore and we have a map and a compass. Between us, I don't fear getting lost on the wild way... if that is a concern."
Grobradon nods to Culver, then hears the other opinions and looks at each person in turn to see what they think "Sounds like everyone is torn between trying the short cut but also nervous it will bite us in the ass. Which it might. Moon is probably right that she and I are woodwise, but again, always a chance things go south. Mmm.." He looks over at Bimbur and Casina, who have not voiced opinions that he heard, "Bimbur, Casina, Opinions?"
Culver, looking up from the map, asks, "It's not a race, right? I mean, we don't gain anything from rushing, do we? Like, the every flame or whatever it's called, isn't going to go out if we take the longer route or something?"
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"Big kid, I'm older than YOU!" she mutters. That mood quickly changes when Garth speaks on his own experiences of the Quest and the close calls he and his group had. She listens intently, a serious look on her face. When he finishes, she nods.
"Aye, thank you Garth." she says, then she turns to the others and draws her clan dagger. "I swear on my clan dagger, and on my good name as a daughter of the Ironhame clan, you all can count on me to make sure we all come back from the Quest safe and sound."
Then she sheathes the dagger, and nods to Casina next.
"Damn right, I'm ready! I've been ready for years!" Then she realizes Maidie's asking about spells before turning away and going after her brother.
"I got grease too, and I got color spray and enlarge person!" she calls after her, before going on with the rest of her day.
When the group assembles their pieces of the map, Betzolte provides hers without hesitation. When Grobradon finishes it off with the mending spell, she smiles.
"None taken, Grobradon. Sometimes people forget the little spells can have even more beneficial effects than the big flashy ones."
When the discussion turns to the shortcut, she strokes her chin.
"You've got a good point, Culver. But at the same time, we gotta consider the resources we've got and how much we stretch 'em. Not just the food, water and potions, but our energy too. I may be stronger than the average wizard, so I can lug a pack like mine more readily, but you saw how Maidie was huffin' and puffin' back there. If we can reduce the travel time, we have more resources to explore the Crypt with. The Quest is about working together and trusting each other, so if we trust in Grobradon's and Moon's skills, I think the shortcut won't be too dangerous."
Bimbur nods slowly.
"I can scout ahead. I am pretty quiet and sneaky, and I can see most threats. Shortcuts are meant to be taken aren't they??"
He looks at the others.
"If some of you are not comfortable traveling outdoors, it may be prudent to take the safer way. Knowing some of the people before us, I bet they weren't in any hurry. Maybe we shouldn't be either. It is rather the journey and not the destiny one of my teachers used to say. Well....usually when he thought you should be learning something and doing something you didn't like. But it may apply here."
As one of the party members least accustomed to the outdoors, Maidie felt much of the decision rested on her. She swallowed her concerns and spoke up.
”I vote we give the shortcut a try. It’s true we’re not in a hurry, but personally, I’d like to spend as little time in the wet and cold as possibly. If the shortcut proves too rough, we have enough supplies to backtrack and go the long way around and we can also choose the easier route when returning from the tomb. Don’t worry about me being able to keep up, my pack feels much easier to carry after Moon adjusted it.”
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“I agree with Betz and, uh, Maidie,” Casina said. “For all we know, maybe trusting throws with navigation skills is part of it too. A hero’s life isn’t alway goblins and fighting. Sometimes it’s going with your gut instinct and trusting your comrades.”
Casina hefted her axe over one shoulder and pointed at the shorter route on the map, “I say the short path. Let’s Trust each other.”
And maybe find some goblins, she thought.
Grobradon isn't the genius the wizard girls are, but he can do math. And he notices Voronoy is on the fence and already dedicated to voting with the majority "I worry it will bite us in the butt, but looks like with one abstention or whatever you call it, even if I voted long we'd end up with short winning. So let's go short and get a move on." Grobradon shrugs "But if we somehow do get lost or in trouble Moon and Bimbur get to tell everyone else they told us so."
"There... choice made, democracy wins. Let's dive into the green and see if we can shear a half day off. If anyone thinks I'm mistepping, course correct as best you can... I'm not going to get folks lost for the sake of my pride." And he walks towards the short cut and starts to lead them down it, trusting Moon , Bimbur, or maybe even Casina to stop him if he starts to walk them off a cliff.
Despite his desire for fallbacks, it must be said the big orc blood takes to the shortcut with competence, his steps sure.
Moon glances at the map, landmarks, and compass briefly… surreptitiously double-checking Grobradon’s work. Seeing no flaw in his course she quips, ”If we arrive in Cheliax, I shall comment.” She motions for others to follow the half-orc. She falls in at the rear of the group behind the folks that seem most out of their element.
Seeing no flaw in his course she quips, ”If we arrive in Cheliax, I shall comment.” She motions for others to follow the half-orc.
Despite his best efforts, a smile escapes Grobradon at that. Then he adds, "You take the lead on the way back, okay, Moon? That way Treesong and Arnama both will both get to puff up with mentor pride and all that." He may try to downplay it, but he respects his mentor and while she's quirky, he wants to do her proud.
He definitely feels more secure with a ranger to consult.
Relived that the trackers seem confident in their navigation, Maidie plods along doing her best to keep up. At regular intervals, she checks on Tanglefoot.
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Moon chuckles from her place near the back of the line. ”For Arnama to ‘puff up’, I would have to escape a stone giant by kicking him in his granite-hard balls while carrying three of you on my back.”
"Okay. Short-cut it is." Securing his 'Quest' backpack, Culver bounds after the others, grinning from ear to ear. As they travel, unless instructed otherwise, the halfling rogue moves from the rear of the line to the front, then to the middle and then to...wherever...in line. Roaming, he's chatting with everyone as the troupe goes.
"Anyone want to sing a song? I know lots of them. My Uncle Jimes taught be a bunch."
There's a good chance it'll rain again at some point.
The half-elf's eyes constantly sweep their surroundings, even the sky doesn't avoid her glance. "Grobradon, keep a weather eye. We could get wet later."
Moon smiles at the halfling flitting about the group like a fey. She understood the importance of keeping spirits up... particularly when things get miserable. "I know only Tien songs, I'm sorry. They are not good for hiking... Oh, and I know one filthy sea shanty."
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Moon chuckles from her place near the back of the line. ”For Arnama to ‘puff up’, I would have to escape a stone giant by kicking him in his granite-hard balls while carrying three of you on my back.”
Okay, an honest "Heh" comes out at THAT one, "Olmira would probably puff up regardless, but tell me next time to ask the Stone Giant 'if you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?' while the Giant and I had tea. I mean, she's wise as hell, but odd."
The half-elf's eyes constantly sweep their surroundings, even the sky doesn't avoid her glance. "Grobradon, keep a weather eye. We could get wet later."
"Good eye." He notes. Seeing what she means as he glances at the clouds Moon's good.
"Anyone want to sing a song? I know lots of them. My Uncle Jimes taught be a bunch."
Grobradon mmphs As if any of us can sing worth a... And he realizes he really doesn't know if anyone in this group can.
"Mmmph, if you want to but not sure I'll join in, my singing might scare the wild life." A confession, "Though Olmira did make me learn a song. Said it was a celebration of the beauty of nature. How'd that one go?"
"Deep inside the forest
Is a door into another Land...
Here is our life and home" And then he botches the note and flushes
"Forget it, sound like I'm murdering a bull frog. Shouldn't have tried." Can I blame this on Culver? Nope. Don't got enough friends to be pulling that.
Then he adds "Someone else take a crack at a song, so it's not just me making a fool of myself." his greenish skin a darker emerald at his cheeks
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Grobradon isn't the genius the wizard girls are, but he can do math. And he notices Voronoy is on the fence and already dedicated to voting with the majority "I worry it will bite us in the butt, but looks like with one abstention or whatever you call it, even if I voted long we'd end up with short winning. So let's go short and get a move on." Grobradon shrugs "But if we somehow do get lost or in trouble Moon and Bimbur get to tell everyone else they told us so."
"There... choice made, democracy wins. Let's dive into the green and see if we can shear a half day off. If anyone thinks I'm mistepping, course correct as best you can... I'm not going to get folks lost for the sake of my pride." And he walks towards the short cut and starts to lead them down it, trusting Moon , Bimbur, or maybe even Casina to stop him if he starts to walk them off a cliff.
Despite his desire for fallbacks, it must be said the big orc blood takes to the shortcut with competence, his steps sure.
"Hmmph, if it does bite us, there's more than enough of my butt to go around. I'll defend your derrieres with mine!" Betzolte comments.
"Okay. Short-cut it is." Securing his 'Quest' backpack, Culver bounds after the others, grinning from ear to ear. As they travel, unless instructed otherwise, the halfling rogue moves from the rear of the line to the front, then to the middle and then to...wherever...in line. Roaming, he's chatting with everyone as the troupe goes.
"Anyone want to sing a song? I know lots of them. My Uncle Jimes taught be a bunch."
Betzolte shrugs.
"Can't say I know that many actual songs, Culver. Incantations, yes, I can tell you the proper intonation and accents you need and repeat them no trouble. But I imagine you'll want me to save those for when we actually NEED spells cast. Heard a few forge chants from my papa when I was wee, but since taking my apprenticeship I haven't been home often enough to truly commit them to memory...and my papa sings..." she pauses as Grobradon makes his attempt at singing and smirks a bit. "...well, like that. Good try, though Grobradon!"
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Voronoy was feeling more like an outsider than before. Back in town, she had a role. And the role equalled a purpose and a persona. She wasn't Voronoy, she was part of the local militia. She mused as they walked that she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be a person. And that feeling was amplified by the camaraderie she witnessed. And the longer it continued, and the less she contributed, the harder it was to join in.
So she didn't. Instead she kept a careful watch. Not because she suspected any special challenge as part of the event, but because this was the wilderness after all and anything might decide they represented lunch. In their favour they had numbers on their side, but you could never be too careful she mused.
"Incantations could be fun...though I obviously wouldn't want you to waste them now when we might need them late..." the rogue trails off as Grobodan launches into his version of a song, at which Culver makes a face, then grins at Betzolte.
"I think it's more like you're the bullfrog that's getting stepped on, Grob." Culver playfully waggles his eyebrows at his half-orc friend before looking over to Voronoy, "How about you, Voro? Do you know any good travel songs?"
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It's just after midday when the chosen heroes for this year's Quest of the Everflame turn off the trail and start on the shortcut that they'd found. Soon, they begin to see why the trail to Ekat Kassen's tomb circles around this part of the woods instead of going straight through. The terrain is rougher, and the undergrowth is more dense. The going is more difficult, but with Grobradon and Moon leading the way, everyone's confident that they'll still make good time to the crypt.
About an hour after leaving the trail behind, though, the skies darken and a frigid drizzle begins to fall. The rain is ice-cold on your faces when it is blown under your hoods. Garth's warning to you all echoes in your minds as you push on. A deep-throated call, that of a raven the more experienced woodsmen in the group can tell, sounds somewhere in the distance.
As you walk through a clearing, you can see movement on a rise in the distance. What it may have been, you cannot tell. The distance is too great, even with your keen eyes.
Warrider Lugruk grumbled as he shifted in the saddle on his worg partner, Khalakakan. His scouts were late, as usual. Most of the time he wouldn't have minded, but this wasn't most of the time. The past three months hadn't been most of the time, and with his tribe's chief breathing down his neck to find something about the group that had slaughtered a good number of the Bugwump Tribe's warriors, some of them the chief's favorites, Lugruk's mood had steadily worsened.
"I-I'm sure that they'll be back soon," the sniveling toad of a priestess he'd been saddled with stammered. Rooshi wasn't much of a priestess. The powers Mother Lamashtu granted her were meager, but she knew how to ingratiate herself with the tribe's leaders. Unfortunately, it seemed her success had come back to bite her, and Lugruk, firmly on the arse.
"Better hope they do," Lugruk growled, tired of Rooshi's constant whining and stroking of his ego. He wished she'd pick one, then he could figure out how to handle the priestess. "You'll be looking for them if they don't."
The warchanter standing on the other side of Lugruk snickered, and Lugruk had to fight a smile. Zelka was looking to become one of Lugruk's mates, and Lugruk had to admit he found the goblin woman appealing, but he also knew Zelka had ambitions, and it might not be wise to show favoritism here, especially if he couldn't arrange for Rooshi to have an "accident." He'd done it before, but he also didn't have to worry about which of his warriors were loyal to his target that time. This time, he did.
Rooshi started to bark a retort, but withered under Lugruk's glare.
"Enough talking," he said, turning his glare to Zelka who had banished both smile and laughter in an instant, and looked suitably abashed. Good enough, Lugruk decided, though he didn't for a moment think that he'd cowed the warchanter.
Thankfully, none of the three goblins had their patience challenged overly much as rustling announced his scout's arrival.
"Warrider Lugruk! We bring news! Longshanks in the woods," the leader of the scouting party announced as he went to a knee, showing proper respect for a goblin as vicious as Lugruk could be.
Lugruk smiled as he looked towards the human town on the river. His smile grew into a wicked grin as he saw what he could only assume was the group his scouts had spotted moved along a faint trail below his perch on the tall hill. The worg under him chuffed, amused and eager.
"Good," Lugruk said as he turned back to his scouts. "Tell me more about Khalakakan's next meal."
The rain gets worse as you move through the woods along game trails and, more often than not, trails you blaze through the woods. The canopy of trees above you help keep the worst of the rain off, but there's no denying that the way is cold, wet, and miserable. You breath fogs in the air as it grows increasingly chilly. It doesn't take a perceptive person to realize that the temperature is dropping as the afternoon wears on. It's about an hour before sunset when reach another clearing to find snow beginning to fall as the rain lets up.
Despite being as alert as she can be, Betzolte's eyes are more used to reading by candlelight than scanning the brush, and she doesn't see anything out of the ordinary...
Arnama’s training program (featuring ‘ranging’ in all sorts of truly horrible weather) keeps Moon sharp even in the cold and rain. Once the motion vanishes from the rise, Moon speaks quietly, using only her eyes to indicate a direction. ”There was something moving across that rise over there. It might be nothing.” She leaves unstated the fact that it could, in fact, be something nasty. She loosens the curve blade in its scabbard and unshoulders her bow choosing to keep it in hand, just in case.
Bimbur leads the way when he can, moving stealthily through the terrain.
Still grateful for the presence of skilled explorers, Maidie did her best to recall what little had stuck of the many lessons in woodcraft her father and brothers had tried to impart on her through the years.
”Look at that small clearing. There should be just enough room to fit both tents among the trees and I think there’s s brook just beyond that patch of bushes. Would that make a good place to camp?”
Once the tents are set up, she wisely leaves the foraging to Moon and Grobradon, and instead focuses on getting settled. She’s relived to see that the rain has not reached her spellbook and brings Tanglefoot out of his case to give the hedgehog a chance to strech its legs.
”Go ahead and explore a bit, but don’t wander off. We’re far from home and there could be nasty things lurking in the woods.” she gently tells her familiar as she chops up bits of dried meat and trail bread from her rations for his dinner.
Campsite
Food
Well, Voronoy thought, being the quiet one isn't the worst thing in the world. The thought had no sooner flitted across her mind when Culver made it worse. Clearly unintentional, but it made her feel even less useful.
"Um..." she responded to the hafling, "that is...well...no. I don't actually. When we march we tend to either keep quiet or, you know, count...1,2,3,4 or sometimes we shout left - left - left. Not exactly songs."
Grobradon took the commentary on his singing with resignation. This, he suspected, might become a thing. But it was all right. There was no malice in it. Quite the opposite in fact, and that surprised him, well, not from Culver. Culver didn't seem to have a mean bone in his body. But the notion that a group of his own age might tease but not mean harm when he was used to slurs against his bastard birth and orc blood?
Huh It was kind of nice?
The Raven call catches his attention
Arnama’s training program (featuring ‘ranging’ in all sorts of truly horrible weather) keeps Moon sharp even in the cold and rain. Once the motion vanishes from the rise, Moon speaks quietly, using only her eyes to indicate a direction. ”There was something moving across that rise over there. It might be nothing.” She leaves unstated the fact that it could, in fact, be something nasty. She loosens the curve blade in its scabbard and unshoulders her bow choosing to keep it in hand, just in case.
He nods, getting the message. And he sees them, his own dark vision at work "Good eyes"
”Look at that small clearing. There should be just enough room to fit both tents among the trees and I think there’s s brook just beyond that patch of bushes. Would that make a good place to camp?”
"Little further and we can work with it better I think. And... let me and moon handle any mushrooms"