Strongjaw stands with his mouth hanging open and his knees knocking.
The area is marked by the tragic tale of Hiajor, an Irriseni sorcerer cursed by the seers she defeated, highlighting the barrows' fierce guardianship.
The Goblin drools.
The White Rabbit turns to the others.
He's from Irrisen, so he tends to freak out whenever something from home shows up. And he's an asshat.
Tanngrisnir enjoys the grass about the stones.
The White Rabbit looks at the massive, armored creature resting among the standing stones.
That looks problematic.
Veshka drily eyes Hakata. "You're the one the beasts like best. Mine barely behave at all."
With that vote of confidence, Hakata goes down to sooth the creature.
"Quiet now, big guy."
Kadosh tries to calmly gesture in a way to help Hakata. Still, unsure if it might attack, he also tries to remember everything he knows about glyptodons.
As Hakata approaches the massive glyptodon with a gentle demeanor, he speaks soothingly, his voice low and steady. The air is tense for a moment, but the creature's curiosity overcomes its initial wariness. It leans forward, its large, beady eyes scrutinizing Hakata with an intelligence that belies its prehistoric appearance. Then, with surprising gentleness for such a large creature, it extends its broad, flat tongue, giving Hakata an affectionate, if somewhat slimy, lick that leaves his face and front soaked in warm glyptodon drool. The glyptodon snuffs contentedly, a sound that rumbles deep from its chest, then it ambles away, seemingly content with the interaction.
Meanwhile, Kadosh observes the scene, his mind racing through the lore he's accumulated over the years. He recalls that glyptodons are large, armored mammals, relatives of modern armadillos but much larger, with a distinctive, bony shell that could easily withstand the attacks of many predators. These creatures are herbivores, known for their docile unless provoked, and have a preference for solitary living among natural structures that mimic their own physical form, such as the standing stones here. Kadosh also remembers that, despite their intimidating appearance, glyptodons have been known to form bonds with those who show them kindness and respect, suggesting a level of social intelligence not immediately apparent. Their shells are not just defensive but are also used to communicate through sounds generated by rubbing parts of their armor together.
Hakata gives the enormous animal a good scratch behind the head plate before it wanders away. "It's a good-natured creature, and will be a fine addition to the following. It will be very protective of us, I think."
With the animal soothed, he looks at the rings of stone.
Strongjaw looks at Hakata with a smile.
Animals Love Cool H?
The High Barrows is plainly visible looms over the countryside like a stern visage with blunt teeth and a damaged eye. The stone boulder that serves as the nose of the face is a peculiarly shaped stone with ancient carvings. The carvings are all located on the northernmost part of the nose.
When a creature casts a divination spell within 100 feet of the stone, the stone turns briefly transparent, like a crystal ball, and the caster learns a single, enigmatic word connected to the caster’s fate or the spell’s target’s fate (caster’s choice) within the next day. Fate is fickle, and the word isn’t likely to be literal, so its meaning might only become clear in hindsight.
The carvings on the apaku are magical, and many aren’t nearly as old as they appear. The divination apaku generates them spontaneously, making revisions as the terrain or its inhabitants change. The carvings form a map that depicts all the terrain within 3 hexes. It also has several markings on it that you can interpret.
A character who spots the discrepancies sees the following symbols:
• A few scratches shaped like mastodons where the Broken Tusk following is currently located.
• A small symbol that looks like a sleeping glyptodon right in the center of the map, where the High Barrow is.
• To the southeast, a cave with a box in it.
• A little scowling face with large ears to the northeast.
• Several tiny curved lines that resemble spreading flames to the northwest, representing the current location of the Burning Mammoth following. The party can exploit this knowledge to help the Broken Tusks stay ahead of the Burning Mammoths.
"The spirits around here are potent. They flow through this stone and change its markings. Look--here is the following, here our new friend, and here the enemies that follow us." Hakata leans in close to the carvings.
"I wonder what this box is in the cave to the southeast. Perhaps some treasure or artifact of significance."
Catamoch looks at the scowling face with contempt and scrapes the edge of his tusk across it.
"He thinks whatever lives there is mocking him; he wants it to die," Veshka explains.
Catamoch chuffs out a brief correction.
"He wants to kill it."
The White Rabbit directs Tanngrisnir to get a closer look at the apaku. He slaps the goblin to focus his attention.
Strongjaw begins reciting
It bees un oracle dat be only knowing one words.
The White Rabbit actually explains the meaning to folks.
The container is roughly the size and shape of a footlocker, but it’s made from dinosaur bones that were expertly fastened together using rawhide, sealed with tar, and preserved with treated sap. The container is dry and in good condition, even though it has plainly been abandoned for a long time. It’s locked with an average lock in the shape of a spiral comet
Kadosh, Hakata and Veshka all identify the lock’s shape as the symbol of Pharasma
Hakata gets the sense the box is trapped, protecting its contents.
Veshka examines the chest for any enchantments she can detect, trying to learn more about the trap
Hakata tries to disarm the trap.
Strongjaw stays away from the box in a cave!
Probably blows us ta bits.
The White Rabbit is seen wearing a hazmat suit.
Kadosh stands back, not having any ability to open the box, unless his companions want him to force it open.
Veshka scrutinizes the chest, her senses attuned to the arcane. A whisper of magic responds, confirming its ensorcelled nature.
Kadosh and Strongjaw give space as Hakata tackles the chest's defenses.
A misstep sends his tool skidding across its surface, a grim note in the air that seems to unsettle more than just the nerves of his companions.
In response, a quartet of spectral tendrils unfurls from the disturbed chest, weaving through the air with a life-sapping grace. These ghostly streams of force whirl about the chamber, draining vitality from the group as they swirl in an unending dance.
A thread of energy blasts through Stronjaw's body, negative energy coursing through him.
"What'd you do?!" Kadosh can't help exclaiming.
"Spirits, protect us!" he calls as he retreats from the evil unholy tendrils.
Me just knew dat me should've been un rogue!
The Goblin slowly turns to The Whote Rabbit, who in turn is seen pointing and laughing at the Witch!
Wees be leavings!
The trio Stride out of the chamber to rethink things a bit....
The White Rabbit points out the text that allows Performance to disarm the stinking, Dirty negative energy!
Strongjaw grins!
The Goblin clears his throat!
Veshka blanches at the ferocity of the unveiled spirits, Guiding Strongjaw for his next attempt, and restoring his life's energies.
The White Rabbit gives Veshka a thumbs up as he and Tanngrisnir are seen fanning the goblin with handkerchiefs.
Both Valda and Hakata start to run away but find the haunt saps their strength. Hakata clears the threat range, but Valda can't make it as far enough because she is moving too slowly.
- Veshka
This time the thread chooses Veshka and she feels a blast of negative energy go through her body.
Kadosh continues bravely retreating, knowing this horror is beyond his capabilities.
Veshka snarls through the spirits' onslaught, long accustomed to the bite of spirits that refuse to be meekly wrangled.
She clenches her fists until sanctified water flows through her fingers, daring the spirits to strike.
Breathing a heavy sigh of relief as the negative energy targets Veshka, Strongjaw sings even louder!
Strongjaw really, really sings loudly!
Realizing that the goblin is not exactly helping, the White Rabbit taps him on the shoulder, pointing to the exit!
The Witchthen punches Tanngrisnir in the head! The goat Strides out of the chamber!
From a safe distance (hopefully), Hakata heals Strongjaw.
Feeling mightily rejuvenated, the goblin slaps the White Rabbit!
Mees feels the fines! Why wees run!
The Witch gives the Animist a thumbs up!
The party, sensing the peril, hastily retreats from the chest's malevolent trap. As they put distance between themselves and the source of their affliction, the magical assault ceases, the spectral tendrils dissipating into the cavern's stale air. With the threat seemingly neutralized, they regroup and cautiously approach the chest once more, giving Hakata space to ply his tools with care.
Hakata, with a steadier hand, sets to work again, determined to best the chest's safeguards without further incident. However, Valda, either from impatience or concern for Hakata's safety from potentially triggering another trap, strides forward. With a decisive swing of her sword, she shatters the chest's lock and lid, laying bare its contents in a shower of splinters.
Among the remnants of the broken chest, they discover treasures untouched by time: three ivory symbols sacred to Pharasma, a bundle of rare incense valued at 40 gold pieces, a staff imbued with healing magics, and a slender leather folio. This folio, upon closer inspection, meticulously details the consecrate ritual, offering insight and guidance on invoking Pharasma's blessing to sanctify ground.
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The scouts enter a densely wooded area, where the canopy of towering trees filters the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. Thick undergrowth and brambles make the terrain difficult to navigate, hinting at the untamed wildness of this part of the land. Amidst this verdant seclusion, a subtle tension hangs in the air, a silent war waged between unseen factions.
As they tread carefully through the underbrush, a tiny, unexpected voice breaks the forest's natural symphony of sounds. Turning their attention towards the source, they see what appears at first glance to be nothing more than a pile of twigs and leaves nestled in the dense foliage. However, as the voice continues, the pile shifts, revealing itself to be a small, sentient creature made of sticks and brambles, with sharp features that give it an almost impish appearance.
"Excuse me," says a small, sharp-featured creature of sticks and brambles, “but perhaps you could help us. We’re having a problem with some very nasty quicklings. They think they own the whole wood, and they keep stealing our favorite berries and tearing down our homes!"
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A spirit! Kadosh thinks.
"A spirit!" Kadosh exclaims, completely oblivious as usual to what type it is or anything else that may be lurking nearby. "Of course we can help you, spirit. Can you tell us more about these quicklings?"
Nettle, with an air of desperation tinged with hope, begins, "Yes! I'm Nettle! We really could use your help! These quicklings, they—" But before he can continue, a blur of motion interrupts him.
Another creature zips into view, his voice a rapid, almost incomprehensible chirp, "Longest we've been here, yes, yes! Our woods, our berries, ours! I'm Reddew! This is Cricketsong and Mossywort!" His compatriots, Cricketsong and Mossywort, emerge with equal swiftness, their sharp features twisted into sneers of defiance.
Nettle, undeterred by the interruption, stands his ground, though his leafy brow furrows in frustration. "They plunder our berries, destroy our homes! No respect, no respect for the work we do!" His voice rises in a crescendo of indignation.
The quicklings respond with a flurry of gestures, too quick to fully catch, as Reddew shoots back, "Traps, they set traps! Dangerous, deadly! Killed our friends, they did, just for a few berries!" His voice is a mix of anger and sorrow, the latter emotion surprising coming from such a creature.
The dispute escalates as both sides attempt to sway the scouts to their cause, talking over each other in a chaotic symphony of accusation and justification. Reddew, darting back and forth as if unable to contain his energy, insists on their ancestral claim to the woods. "Ours, ours for seasons beyond count! We dance through these trees, we play in the shadows. They cannot take that from us!"
Nettle, with a somber tone that belies his prickly exterior, counters, "But we nurture the woods, grow the berries. We ask only to share, but they take, they spoil, they waste!" His voice carries a plea for understanding, an appeal to the scouts' sense of fairness.
Strongjaw clears his throat. The Goblin holds up his hands, as he sits majestically on top of Tanngrisnir.
The Witch's blue eyes peers suspiciously at the twigs, berries and that smirking grasshopper on a branch.
The Goblin then begins to sing a peaceful, harmonium song to ease tensions.
Veshka gets the sense that the twigjacks cultivate berry bushes in the wood, which the quicklings plunder as often as possible, squashing any berries they don’t eat just to frustrate the twigjacks. The twigjacks set dangerous traps in retaliation, and they’ve already killed a couple of quicklings with them. The quicklings believe they have a right to the wood because they’ve been here longest.
One thing is for certain: the party knows that trying to bring the Following through here would be disastrous; surely someone or some creature would end up injured or worse from this feud.
Strongjaw's performance seems to put the Quicklings at ease, but someone else must settle the twig jacks down (or agree to take up arms against the other side) before it is safe here.
"You should know," Veshka rasps to the twigjacks, "our people will need to come through here quickly. But then, whether we do or not, the Burning Mammoths will surely come to this place. They will pillage it, they will burn it, they will leave nothing but ashes. Unless you save your wickedest traps for them; unless you and the Quicklings stop your useless, wretched quarrel, they will kill you all."
As Veshka addresses the assembled fey with her stark warning, the atmosphere in the dense woods shifts palpably. The quicklings, momentarily lulled by Strongjaw's performance, now wear expressions of cautious contemplation, while the twigjacks stand silently, absorbing the gravity of Veshka's message. The reality of an impending Burning Mammoth invasion, one that could threaten their very existence, overshadows their petty squabbles.
With a newfound sense of urgency, the twigjacks and quicklings convene in a huddle, whispering fervently among themselves. It's clear that Veshka's stark portrayal of their potential doom has pierced through their longstanding enmity. Emerging from their conference, they announce a temporary truce, united by the common goal of protecting their home from the marauding Burning Mammoths.
The quicklings, agile and quick-witted, alongside the resourceful and cunning twigjacks, begin to outline a plan for a series of traps that would make the dense woods a nightmare for any who dare to threaten their territory. From pit traps lined with sharpened brambles to snare traps designed to hoist the unwary high into the treetops, their combined ingenuity promises a formidable defense.
As a symbol of their newfound alliance and to thank the party for the pivotal role in brokering this peace, one of the quicklings steps forward. With a mischievous glint in its eye, it hands Veshka a leather sack, its surface bristling with sharp splinters. Moderate Twigjack Sack
"Excellent work," Hakata congratulates. "Those fey pretend to be in tune with the spirits of the land, but they are just agents of chaos."
The last piece of information available to you back at the apaku boulder is the location of the Burning Mammoths. You set to work concealing the tracks of the following and set a false course to delay them. Using the information from that apaku, you easily will lead the Burning Mammoths astray and set them back a few days.
With the area fully explored, you lead the following onward.
Two days later, you come upon a man lashed to a rock in the hills, his skin badly burned. As you approach, it becomes apparent this man is a Burning Mammoth hunter. When he sees you approaching, he seems to recognize you and chokes out "Pakano. Knows you. The hate. H-he has for you. Burns. Stronger. T-than any f-flame."
Strongjaw rides real close to the Burning Mammoth.
So, this looks terrible.
Hakata channels some of the boon of the spirits into the dying man.
"You know Pakano? Why does he have such hate for us? Is he pushing the Burning Mammoths to find us?"
"Pakano... he's driven by vengeance," the hunter gasps, each word punctuated by a wince. "Thinks... you hold the key... to his ascension within the Mammoths... and beyond. Says you're the ones... who can stop him... from claiming the Flame. Says... It's personal."
His voice trails off as if the mere mention of the Primordial Flame saps the last of his strength. "He's not just after the Tusks... he's after the power he believes you block him from. He's obsessed... sees you in his dreams... as the only obstacle left."
The man coughs, a painful sound that rattles through his scorched throat. "Was sent... to slow you... not to kill. Pakano moves ahead... laying a trap for you... in Lost Mammoth Valley. He waits... with those loyal to him... and something more. Something... he brought back... from the ruins."
He pauses, struggling to draw breath, "Please... he must be stopped. Before he finds... what he seeks. It would be... disaster. Not just for the Tusks... for all. His hatred... it's blinding him. Making him consort... with shadows and fire."
A shiver runs through the man's body, not from the cold, but from the fear of what Pakano might unleash if not thwarted. His eyes lock with Hakata's, pleading for understanding, for action.
"You... you might be the only ones... who can end his madness. For all our sakes... find him. Stop him. If you see my brother, Jorek, tell him I stood up to Pakano."
With that, the man's head slumps back, exhausted by his confession. His chest rises and falls more steadily now, the immediate threat of death staved off by Hakata's intervention, but the urgency of his message lingers in the air, a dire warning of the danger that lies ahead.
"Well. I can't say killing Pakano is a task I won't relish."
Veshka reaches down to scritch Catamoch between his ears.
"We should make sure the Following knows the way, then blaze a trail right over him."
"Aye. Pakano will pay for all that he is done. Come, let us press on," Valda proclaims.
"Pakano had a lot of potential, but he was always blunded by his ambition and need for attention." Hakata sadly hangs his head. "It doesn't matter now, though. He must be stopped."
"Can you wake him, Hakata?" Kadosh asks. "We need to know what happened to him. And to let him know Jorek is safe! Why did he stand up to Pakano? Are there others who will?"
Strongjaw, the White Rabbit and even Tanngrisnir spit on the ground next to the fallen Mammoth and walk away.
They appear ready to continue their tasks.
Hakata recognizes that this man needs to get to Nakta the Healer, who has enough skill to nurse him back to health. Aklep doesn’t know what Pakano’s plan is, only that he’s in the area with several other Burning Mammoth advance scouts. Aklep refused to murder a fellow hunter who Pakano thought was stealing from him and was punished for this disloyalty with his own death sentence. Aklep is grateful for being rescued, joins the Broken Tusk following readily and loyally, and can teach the characters how to manufacture tallow bombs.
Aklep tells the scouts a fair bit about the Burning Mammoths, including how the emergence of Mammoth Lord Ivarsa upended the group’s previous order. According to this deserter, the Mammoths have always been a proud, violent following, but they were far less brutal in times past. He doesn’t know much about where exactly Ivarsa came from, but he knows many people—Burning Mammoths included—have suffered under her leadership. When asked, he offers his people’s account of the Burning Mammoths’ founding, a tale which adheres roughly to the Broken Tusk version of the story, though it obviously casts the party’s following in a far less heroic light.
--
Later that evening, Argakoa tells the scouts that the stars this night are conducive to certain ritual songs for clarity and perceptiveness. Scouts who stay up the whole night chanting with her are fatigued the next day, but Argakoa is so pleased with them that she offers to teach them a few things. Those characters gain access to the Spirit Speaker feat.
Hakata sits with Argakoa through the night, listening to the songs that call the spirits.