Chapter 1: Message in the Night
Last night, a storm lashed the Kindred Coast, and the citizens of Osprey Cove spent the evening sheltering indoors with hot drinks, cozy companionship, and tale-telling, as has been the tradition for years during such events. However, an unusual surprise came to town the next morning. On an early dawn walk to appraise the storm damage, Elder Johedia found a dying man sprawled at the edge of town. Suffering from exposure, two infected crossbow bolt wounds, and a strange sickness that left rust-red splotches all over his body, the man gasped out an unsettling warning before he died: “Iron Harbor... rust... ship... all dead... before... too late... ”
The man was dressed in rusted armor and clutched an equally rusted religious symbol of Gorum in one hand. This, and his final words, suggested something dreadful had happened in the nearby village of Iron Harbor. Osprey Cove’s youngest leader, Elder Ordwi, quickly organized an expedition to travel the daylong trip east to Iron Harbor, both to offer help as needed, but also to extend overtures of peace, to bring an end to the yearslong feud that has kept the only two villages of the Kindred Coast at odds. Whether you volunteered or were recruited, your group is now well on their way along the Old Coast Road as Elder Ordwi’s escorts. What might await your arrival at Iron Harbor this evening?
Tol shouldered his pack and smiled a grimace. Though happy to be out “on an adventure” he was becoming a little hungry, and truth be told, bored. Not one ghoulbear had scrummaged out of the woods to chew on them, no ambushes by mythical drow with their strange-metal weapons and hatred of the sun, and not one magical, mystical warlock had even so much appeared let alone attack them. Mostly he was being bitten by insects and burnt by the sun.
Still, at least he was away from Osprey Cove. Sure, it was home, and he missed his parents, but this…this, *this*, was the life.
”How much further is it, Elder Ordwi?” he asked, trying to hide any hint of irritation from his voice.
Ordwi looks back over her shoulder and smirks at Tol. "Tired already? Chin up, we're almost halfway there. Another nine miles or so to go. Perhaps a song will lighten your steps?"
She begins to sing a traditional Varisian tune as you journey down the road.
Reknar shuffled along with some discomfort - the load did not bother the large man, well used to a life of hard work and toil. But carrying weapons and armor was definitely not something which had been a part of his life, except for when father forced him to take militia training.
Now here he was - he could not (and would not) have refused the request from Elder Ordwi, and with the blessings from his father and Elder Anlorgog, had joined the group. He know most of them from the village, but was not really in a first name basis with any, so just kept to himself.
He nodded to those around him and plodded along, but didn't feel like singing.
Ed nods wearily as the party trudged along, clearly unused to such physical exertions. While he was certainly honored to be chosen for this important mission, he certainly could not help but wish Iron Harbor was a tad closer.
"I don't think i have the best singing voice, but I can at least hum along..." he offers.
"I can sing! Once you sing a few bars I'll be happy to join in... though I've got some much better travelling songs".
Hess had been excitedly moving from person to person trying to engage them in conversation and was unsure why they didn't seem to be enjoying this fine adventure.
He'll try to sing along, but fears that the song may be the Elders way to get him to shut up and quit bothering anybody... so smiling and dancing the small goblin begins to nod and march along to the song in a somewhat annoying but rhythmic manner.
Performance
He does an Okay job of singing along but seems to make up his own words to the semi-familiar tune.
Tol’s eyes almost roll upside down as Elder Ordwi offers to sing. But to his surprise, it *isn’t* another Caydenite tankard-thumper, but rather an equally vibrant Varisian travelling tune. One that Tol is certainly familiar with. His grimace becomes a real smile, and he laughs and nods along as Hess semi-capers. Tol joins in the chorus for Hess’ benefit:
”The path beneath you will raise you up so take your rests as you can.
Settle your salt you eager pup, and by days end you’ll cross the span.
And if the day turns east or west
Or cloud and rain obscure your zest
Or twisted this-way-north or that-way-south
A frown begins to turn your mouth
Remember that the path beneath, will raise you up!
So. Take. Your. Rests.
As. You. Can!
Yep. This was the life.
The song lifts your spirits as you near the midpoint of your journey, Kindred's Crossing—the site where citizens from both villages originally started working together to create a bridge over a cleft in the shoreline near the tip of a short peninsula. From there, it is another 9 miles or so to Iron Harbor.
After following only faint traces of the Old Coast Road, the approach to Kindred’s Crossing becomes apparent. Here, the road grows more obvious, with portions even retaining old paving stones as it turns south toward a short, rocky peninsula. To the north, a steep, weather-worn ridge of stone rises thirty feet high into the air, featuring an occasional ledge that appears to provide nesting spots for ospreys. To the east, the road rises up from the shoreline to follow a wide ledge that winds around the peninsula. Ahead, near the peninsula’s tip, the road reaches a cleft in the steep shoreline, over which the remains of an old and incomplete wooden bridge stand. Nearby, what appears to be a freshly wrecked rowboat sits upside down among the tide pools.
As you get closer, you begin to hear high-pitched cries for help coming from underneath the rowboat!
Tol’s ears struggle to hear…something out of pitch…completely at odds with the Varisian travelling tune. He frowns, checking to see if it is his own voice creating the dissonance.
Nope. Not me. Not Hess either.
Then his eyes widen as he realises where the noise is coming from.
”Someone in distress!!!”
Without waiting for Elder Ordwi’s blessing, Tol rushes toward the boat.
"Wait!" Ed cries out, "It could be a..." As he watches Tol rush ahead he shakes his head wearily, "trap," He finishes.
Deciding caution is prudent here he looks up ahead of him to see if anyone is preparing an ambush.
"I go with him" - Reknar nodded to Ed, and moved after Tol.
Hess immediately quits singing, and a frightened look appears on his ugly adorable face. He quickly looks around for somewhere he could hide and pulls forth his hand crossbow.
Ed doesn't spot anything lurking in ambush. As Hess ducks behind a large rock, Reknar and Tol rush up to the boat. As they draw near, a strange creature slithers out from under the boat! Blood-red spines run the length of this frightening creature, which resembles a lobster in the front and an eel in the back. As it snaps its claws angrily, the high-pitched voice begins to cackle with glee!
Before you can react, the monster slithers up to Tol and attacks, clamping its claw around his leg and injecting him with venom!
Ed groans as he sees the trap is sprung. "Hang on Tol!" He cries out as he focuses his magics upon the beast!
Tol’s innate health proves too strong for the reefclaw’s venom, and given the doughty monk is…pretty much…right where he needs to be he opts to lash out, his hands forming claw shapes, a visceral howl erupting from him…his attacks are hampered by being grabbed…
◆ Enter Wolf Stance ◆ Flurry of blows ◆ Strike
[P]
[P]
[P]
Reknar snarls and wades in on the creature grabbing Tol - "Was it this thing talking?" - he asks, surprised.
Hess is happy shooting from behind his favorite (For now) rock.
◆ Load
◆ Strike
Hand Crossbowl
Damage
◆ Re-load
And in his excitement almost shoots the rock in front of him as he gets confused and ducks before he shoots. He then shakes his head laughing at his own blunder... takes a deep breath and reloads.
I'll do better next time.
Hess’s crossbow bolt sticks into the sandy ground. Tol punches ineffectively at the monster, but Reknar delivers a solid blow with his flail. Ed’s magic missiles fatally puncture the creature’s shell, causing it to go into a thrashing frenzy as it dies!
Tol is able to avoid the snapping claws and extricates himself from the dead monster’s grasp.
The high-pitched laughter dies away, and you hear splashing from the nearby tide pool. Within, you see a small, bizarre humanoid creature with fin-like wings, strange yellow skin, and tiny black eyes burning with malevolence. ”Ha! The pincher softened you up. Now I’ll take my boat back!” it shrieks, flying into Tol’s face.
Unfortunately for the creature, Reknar is nearby. With a mighty swing of his flail, he smashes the thing into the ground, flattening it and slaying it in a single blow!
”Well fought!” Elder Ordwi exclaims. ”Tol, are you alright?”
Tol groans where he lies on the shore, and shakes a mix of sand, chitin and yellow viscera out of his hair and clothes. He spits out a little sand and blinks, happy to be happy in one piece - it certainly felt like Reknar’s flail came fairly close to ending his own existence. Tol checks his various limbs.
”Umm. A little…scratched perhaps, Elder Ordwi. But not poisoned!” he finishes, as if this is some great victory.
”Thanks Rek. And Ed, nice shot. I was just about to finish it, but…well, you know how it is.”
Tol gets up off the sand and stalks around the two bodies, poking at the yellow humanoid with his longspear.
”I’ve heard of reefclaws. Nasty poison worse than a coral cut. But what was this evil little sprite?”
Tol winces a little as Turac examines him, and then nods in mute appreciation as the cleric’s healing ministrations stem the bleeding and cleanse the wound.
”Thanks, Turac. Yes…Reknar and Ed did…very well.”
Tol recognizes the yellow creature as a haniver, a capricious amphibious fey. Though they don't actively sabotage their environment, sailors bemoan these gremlins' grasping fingers. Hanivers' incessant curiosity compels them to examine any object that draws their attention. Such treasures might include an overturned fruit basket, a sack of coins, or a shark's gleaming teeth (often still in the shark's mouth, to the fey's regret). Should hanivers like what they find, they steal it, making them a bane to fishers and dockworkers everywhere.
Searching the rowboat reveals a small stash of treasure tucked into a waterproof leather bag that was stuffed into a cabinet under a seat. Within are 20 sp, 1 gp, and a potion of water breathing in an airtight bottle.
You don’t feel poisoned at all? Vision not blurred? No burning or strange itching?
Reknar looks with some disgust at the remains of the yellow creature stuck to his dangling flail - "So this was a trap of of some sort? This one would attract us, and send her, or his pet to attack us?"
You all moved very fast to take it down. Well done.
”Thanks, Turac. Yes…Reknar and Ed did…very well.”
He nods in appreciation of his traveling companion's words - "Was a lucky swing - and the beast was busy latching on to Tol, so..."
Ed walks over to the group, rather proud that his magics played a key role in helping defeat the monsters. "It is a good thing we discovered this ambush and dealt with it before any innocent travelers ran across them!" He examines the potion curiously, "I wonder how that foul fey came across this...probably stole it from some townsfolk." He absentmindedly drops the potion into his pouch before shouldering his pack, "We should press on."
You continue past the boat to the old bridge at Kindred's Crossing. Two weatherworn stone statues stand on either side of a fifteen-foot-wide rift in the shore, extending their arms toward one another. A partially completed, partially eroded old stone bridge doesn’t quite cross the gulf. In the water fifteen feet below, the surf crashes on a worn wedge of stone that might have at one time been part of the bridge.
"Hmm. Well, we need to get across," Ordwi says, hands on her hips.
"I have rope" - Reknar offered, pondering if it could perhaps be tied across.
Reknar reckons he could use the rope to lasso the other side of the bridge and make it easier to cross the gap.
"I just know I'm going to fall. Look at my spindly little arms. Why don't you guys go over there and I'll just wait here till you get back".
He then looks at the dead enemy bodies, and thinks about the treasure.
"It doesn't look that far down. I'll just go, and when I fall you guys can pull me up the other side".
Hess ties a rope around his waist so he can be hoisted up the other side.
Athletics
Reflex Save to "Grab an Edge".
Athletics (To Climb up).
"Help! Help! Pull me up. Can somebody just throw me accross?".
Ed wisely decides not to press his luck as he sees what happened to Hess, and makes sure his rope is securely fastened around his waist before attempting the climb.
Tol’s face screws up. He is not sure where to look. Finally he looks to Reknar.
”Wow, Rek. You are having a stellar day. Killed a reefclaw, mashed a…hanniver, and now you’ve caught a Cleric, a Wizard and a Hobgoblin in a rope trap.”
Tol giggles.
”I am not climbing that. I’d rather drown.”
With that, Tol bundles up as much of his gear as he can, climbs down and begins to swim across.
”Hang on folks! Or, you know, drop, and come for a swim…”
Ed finds himself dangling from his rope and dangles helplessly for a moment. "Little help here!" Eventually he finds himself on the other side, thankful not to have gotten drenched.
"The day is still young" - Reknar chuckles at Tol, then does his best to help the others.
Ordwi chuckles at the sight of the three men dangling from the rope. She helps Reknar secure it as Tol climbs down, swims across the small tide pool, and climbs up the other side of the cleft in the rock. From there, he is able to help everybody get across the gap without much further difficulty.
On the eastern side of the bridge, a single bolt from a hand crossbow is embedded in a wooden post near the bridgeworks. An examination of the bolt confirms it to be the same size capable of inflicting the wound found on the body of the man in rusted armor who died in Osprey Cove. Tiny traces of venom remain on the bolt.
Tol stares at the crossbow bolt in mute solemnity. After a long while he turns away, clearly not willing to examine the bolt lest he be infected with the rust-stuff the Gorumite was infected by.
”Elder Ordwi - do you know anyone in Iron Harbor? Like…to talk to? Ever met any of them - have they visited Osprey Cove? I mean…isn’t it odd that a Gorumite priest, if that is what he was, treks all the way from a village we have a generations long feud with…to ask for…help?”
Tol shrugs, clearly troubled, but also perhaps something more visceral….scared even.
”I think what happened in Iron Harbor is…very bad.” Tol begins to soeak more animatedly: ” A-And someone tried to stop the man from reaching us. Elder…this could be a trap, and I worry that Osprey Cove is in just as much danger…” the young man’s eyes peer searchingly at Elder Ordwi, clearly seeking…guidance…or perhaps…reassurance.
Ordwi shakes her head. "I've never been to Iron Harbor myself. And yes, I find it very odd that the man came to our village to deliver his cryptic warning. It could very well be a trap, but even so, we must learn what is happening in Iron Harbor. Do not fret, my friend. Cayden favors the bold. He will watch over us."
Ed decides caution is warranted her as he uses his magics to extract the bolt and hold it close for examination.
As the others have a short conversation, Reknar steps further down the path a few yards, checking what lies ahead.
Once the bolt has safely been dislodged, and twice as safely held, Tol examines the venom.
Tol identifies the venom as coming from a giant centipede, which can be quite deadly!