"Quatar, are you sure you don't want to talk to Derrol first?"
"Oh yes!" absent-mindedly, he doesn't do well with lulls "I think we should talk to everyone who could help us first, before we embark"
Elsie gives you directions to Derrol first as well as some background information. "About a decade ago, three aristocrats from Magnimar arrived in Iron Harbor and paid Stonehome a small fortune for three plots of land adjacent to the high cliffs just west of the village. They hoped to develop a new settlement far north of Varisia’s Lost Coast. Construction of the three manors began at once, but the buildings weren’t quite complete before a big old tsunami struck Magnimar. Suddenly, protecting assets closer to home became a more important way for those aristocrats to spend their money and resources, and they abandoned their so-called new homes, never to return. The three partially completed manors have been left ever since to fall into ruin slowly. We since taken to callin' the small compound of ruined mansions "Gold’s Ruin." Derrol, he was one of the architects of one of the mansions. Since the aristocrats didn't want it no more, he decided he'd make it his home."
"Anyways. Good luck with Ida!" she says, waving to you as you depart for Gold's Ruin.
Making your way off to the derelect mansions, it doesn't take long to find Derrol. A dark-skinned man with braided hair greets you from inside one of the unfinished buildings. "Hallo! You're new, I think? Don't recognize you! Derrol’s the name! Derrol Finnick. Used to be—well, used to be a lot of things, but most recently an underpaid architect and now just Derrol. These are my houses! The rest of the town doesn’t like them because they think they’re haunted, but I don’t mind. Ghosts never bothered me much, and there’s plenty of space. Not many visit Iron Harbor, but here you are! What can ol’ Derrol do for you?"
Zarzuket extends his hand. "Nice to meet you, Derrol! I'm Zarzuket, and these are Kragga, Quatar Linxax, Pickle Tooth, and Krachxton. Elsie mentioned you as someone who might be able to help us."
Zarzuket pauses, deciding how to summarize the complicated situation. "We're worried about the situation at Stonehome; I suppose you've heard about it being mysteriously locked up? Another one of our group, Elder Ordwi, is in there, as is Ida, a sick ram Elsie is worried about. We were wondering if you know of any way in."
Derrol listens attentively as Zarzuket introduces the group and explains their predicament. He strokes his braided hair thoughtfully, nodding as he processes the information about Stonehome and the concerns surrounding Elder Ordwi and Ida the ram.
"Well, nice to meet you all," Derrol responds with a warm smile. "Elsie sent you my way, huh? She's got a good heart, that one."
He ponders for a moment before speaking again. "About Stonehome being locked up tight... Hmm. Place is old, that’s for sure. Well, the lower portion is, at least. Upper works are pretty new, and not nearly so well made. Gorum’s not a god of architecture, but I suppose it works well enough for them. Interesting place though! I’ve long wondered about the interior...”
He digs around for a bit and pulls out a map of the surrounding area, marking Stonehome with his finger.
"Stonehome's position, nestled within a steep nook in the cliffside, offers an infiltration route from above. I can show you the safest way up the cliffs to a narrow ledge that sits about twenty feet over the rooftop. Without my guidance, you’d have to spend a good amount of time investigating the area to find this route. And mind you, it’s not an easy climb, especially the last twenty feet down to the rooftop."
He looks up from the map, his expression serious. "Be careful if you choose this approach. If you’re not stealthy, the guards on the roof or at the dueling balcony might spot you. It’s a risky path, but it could get you inside without having to breach the main gate or climb the spiked wall."
"Now, you should know that Stonehome's occupants aren't likely to just stay put in their rooms once you start moving about inside." he begins, emphasizing the dynamic nature of the situation. "The guards there, they’re trained to respond to intrusions. If the fortress goes into high alert, you can expect them to move around, potentially in varying numbers. This will affect the level of threat you might face at different points." He pauses, making sure the party understands the gravity of this information.
Quatar raises an eyebrow, enticed by the prospect of "Sneaking around?" he smiles with felicity "Should be no problem - I have never been caught" he beams with confidence, stroking his lucky ruby "I could draw their attention away, in order to create passage for the rest " he looks around at...
Stealth
Kragga +1
Krachxton +1
Zarzuket +2
Pickle Tooth +5
Quatar +6
Perception
Pickle Tooth +4
Krachxton +5
Kragga +6
Zarzuket +7
Quatar +7
...Pickle Tooth "What do you think, Pickle Tooth?" he grins with his own teeth at the kholo "Feel like taking a little walk?"
”It seems dangerous, and I’m tempted to suggest we should take the water route instead…but I guess we’d probably run into potential enemies that way too; it’s dangerous either way. Hmm.”
After some silence, Zarzuket speaks again ”I don’t like Quatar putting himself in danger like this, but he is the fastest of us. I feel that we need at least one more idea of some sort before we proceed to change the odds in our favor. Does anyone have any suggestions?
For his part, Zarzuket racks his brain for his knowledge of Gorumites, trying to think of something that might point to a flaw in their security or a way to defuse conflict.
The road from Osprey Cove to Iron Harbor was long and winding, a path that seemed to mirror the unlikely journey of its two travelers. Dredd, the stern and unwavering paladin, walked with purpose, his every step a testament to his disciplined, by-the-book nature. Clad in polished armor that gleamed even under the overcast sky, he carried the weight of responsibility as easily as he did his guisarme. Beside him, a stark contrast, scampered Madaxa, the goblin rogue with a chip on his shoulder and a point to prove. His movements were quick and erratic, a vivid display of his petulant nature.
As they walked, their conversation turned to the past, the words weaving between the clinks of Dredd's armor and the soft rustling of Madaxa's cloak.
"You know, Madaxa, I still remember the day I found you trying to pick that lock," Dredd said, his voice as gruff as the gravel beneath their feet. "You were more bone than flesh, a scrawny thing with eyes too big for your face."
Madaxa snorted, a smirk playing on his lips. "Yeah, and you were the big, scary human who decided to play hero. Could've just handed me over to the guards, you know."
Dredd glanced at him, a flicker of a smile softening his stern demeanor. "And miss the chance to see you turn your life around? You had potential, even if you were too stubborn to see it."
The goblin rolled his eyes, kicking a pebble along the path. "Well, look at me now, eh? From cutpurse to fisherman to... whatever this is." He gestured vaguely ahead, where the distant silhouette of Iron Harbor loomed.
"This," Dredd said firmly, "is our chance to do something meaningful. The Elders believe there's a threat in Iron Harbor, something that could endanger Osprey Cove, maybe even all of the Kindred Coast. We're to meet with a group of adventurers there, assess the situation, and check on Elder Ordwi."
Madaxa's expression sobered at the mention of their mission. "Yeah, I heard. Ancient ruins, old magic, and now this. You think we're ready for whatever's waiting in there?"
Dredd's gaze was unwavering as he looked ahead. "We have to be. It's not just about us, it's about the people back home. I know you haven't forgotten what it's like to have no one, to be on the edge of survival."
Madaxa nodded slowly, the weight of their task settling on his shoulders. "I haven't forgotten. And I won't let those folks back home face what I did. Not if I can help it."
As they approached the outskirts of Iron Harbor, the air tinged with the salty smell of the sea, Dredd and Madaxa moved with a renewed sense of purpose. The paladin, steadfast and resolute, and the rogue, eager to prove his worth, were ready to face whatever mysteries lie ahead. Together, they stepped into the shadow of the ancient ruins, the first chapter of their shared adventure unfolding with each step.
Seeing a heavily-armoed Gorumite escorting a goblin Captive ahead, Quatar ducks behind the nearest kennel.
"They are coming for us!" he squeaks, paranoid that his attempt to pick the locks was discovered...
"Quatar, are you daydreaming again?"
"Daydreaming!?" our plucky hero looks flabbergasted "Do you not see that Gorumite Guard and Goblin Captive heading down the road in our direction!"
He points out both Dredd and Madaxa for the thick-headed gnome!
"Look at that nasty pig-sticker! We are cooked for sure!! Please tell my mother and father I love them!!!"
”Hold on, that looks like…yes, it’s Dredd and Madaxa, from Osprey Cove!”
Trudging along beside Dredd, Madaxa is lost in thought as they approach Iron Harbor. It's not until Dredd nudges him and points that he notices a few familiar faces. His pulse begins to race as he tries to recall why. Then the gnome recognizes him and it falls into place. "You're the spiced pumpkin guy, right? You got in an argument with some annoying woman who would. not. stop. talking. about 'proper' uses for gourds. Until she went to pay for another round that is." Madaxa flashes a small coin purse and smirks.
"Kragga and Pickle Tickle..." She looks to Dredd, "Is that right? Pickle Tickle? Tackle? Tooth! Yeah Pickle Tooth was needed back in Osprey Cove for something. Some Elder business. And I was looking for an opportunity to get away for a bit, so here we are. Need any help?"
Dredd stands tall, almost a towering sight over Madaxa. He tightens his grip his Guisarme in his right hand, before he speaks to his new acquaintances.
"Good day," Dredd announced, his voice carrying the weight of duty. "I am Dredd, a paladin from Osprey Cove, and this," he gestured to Madaxa, "is my companion, Madaxa. We've been sent by the Elders of our village on a matter of some urgency."
He paused, scrutinizing each member of the party as if committing their features to memory. "I recognize some of you, though your names elude me. Apologies for that. It's the faces that stick, not the names."
Dredd shot Madaxa a quick, stern look, then returned his attention to the group. "As Madaxa indicated, we're here to assist in your endeavors, as two of your number are needed back in Osprey Cove. The orc female Kragga, and a kholo, Pickle Tooth. Their skills are required for pressing matters back home."
He stood tall, his expression serious. He looked around at the group, making eye contact with each member. "We're here to ensure the success of your mission and to maintain the safety of our people. We will follow your lead, but know that I am committed to upholding justice and order in all our endeavors. Any questions?"
"No questions here" He remembers the Paladin as a person to avoid around Osprey Cove. The goblin, not as much - they tend to mind their own business and Quatar prefers it that way.
"If Elder Ordwi sent you belatedly - or another elder - then here is our current dilemma" pointing as he talks "You see, we are trying to break into this facility..." explaining what each possible entry might entail, and upon reaching the end, adds a morale test of sorts "I presume that won't present a problem, would it?" eyeballing Dredd with a mischievous smirk!
Madaxa listens to Quatar as the options are laid out, "any chance we can take a more direct approach and convince someone to let us in? I'm not the best climber and have always favored crowds over nature. I suppose that's why I have a rope though." He turns to Dredd, "what about you big guy? Any ideas how we can get in there without raising an alarm?"
"That was the first thing we tried. I don't think anyone inside Stonehome could hear us."
Dredd listens intently as both Quatar and Zarzuket bring him and Madaxa up to speed on the current situation. His facial expressions show his concern over Elder Ordwi, and the seriousness of the situation.
"Elder Ordwi indicated to regroup in the morning, and as of this moment in time is still unaccounted for." He pauses briefly, analyzing his thoughts. "The information you have provided thus far, and the intent, whether proven, or through your own personal gut feelings indicate there is more at play here, and the Gorumites are not being truthful with us."
He turns his gaze to Quatar and speaks with stoic demeaner. "The only problem I see at this point is why we are still standing here instead of extending every effort to find Elder Ordwi. That being the case, while the information you have provided me from Derrol seems helpful, the risk of exposing our entrance seems too great."
Looking to his friend Madaxa and his new allies, he announces in a firm and steadfast manner. "The underground passage through the well has the highest chance of success. We have plenty of rope and climbing gear to make our way down. Unless there are objections, we should proceed with purpose."
Quatar is taken a little offguard at the paladin’s immediate recognition of the subtle direness of Elder Ordwi’s situation. Perhaps he had judged him wrong. Or his own frustration with his own father got the better of him, unfairly projected onto the armorclad justice.
In any case, with feline grace, our plucky hero pivots to immediate preparedness of ”Into the Well then” and clutching his lucky ruby ”Let’s go find Elder Ordwi!”
Zarzuket, pondering Derrol's advice and Elsie's insights, recognizes the formidable nature of Gorumite security. Gorumites, known for their disdain for weakness or flaws, would have ensured that Stonehome's defenses were impregnable from straightforward assaults. Reflecting on historical campaigns against such fortresses, Zarzuket recalls that victory often hinged on cunning, using indirect strategies or discovering concealed paths to success.
Given this understanding, he acknowledges the value of gathering extensive information from various experts before committing to a plan. Derrol's suggestion to approach from above and Elsie's ground-based strategy provide solid starting points, but Zarzuket realizes that a comprehensive approach must consider all angles — including the sea.
First Mate Janis could potentially offer an unforeseen entry point or tactical advantage that the party may not have considered (if they can do a better job of approaching her).
”It just occurred to me that the First Mate of the Swordfish might also have relevant ideas. Her captain is also supposed to be in Stonehome, after all; she might be getting worried about him. Unfortunately I made a not-great first impression on her; sorry about that. But maybe Madaxa might do better.”
Turning his attention to Zarzuket, Dredd nods. "Understood. We should exhaust all options, but let us make haste."
Madaxa nods and stows the blade he's been fiddling with. "Point me in their direction and I'll go have a chat." He sees Dredd open his mouth and holds up his hands, placating, "a friendly chat Dredd, I swear!"
A short time later, Madaxa and Dredd find themselves at the dock, looking for the woman Zarzuket had described. Nearing the Swordfish, he sees Janis walking across the deck and calls out, "Hello! A moment of your time, please. We share a goal today."
Dredd stands towering over Madaxa, keeping his words short and to the point. "It is obvious by the you are preparing to leave that something is wrong. Help us help you."
Janis's interest deepens as the party shares their intentions and concerns about entering Stonehome. With Dredd and Madaxa's fresh faces and smooth words, the firstmate's guard softens. "Damn Stonehome. My captain is missing. Been in there too long."
"I have a proposition. I can aid in infiltrating Stonehome if you rescue my captain, or at least return with news of his fate, symbolized by his distinctive hat, should he be found to be beyond rescue."
She continues, explaining how she can help. "I have been observing Stonehome meticulously, using a spyglass to study the fortress from a distance. I advise against direct assault or attempting to scale the spiked walls; the defenses are formidable and designed to repel such attempts. Instead, I offer a more subtle and cunning approach that could provide you with a significant advantage."
Janis recounts how she managed to pickpocket a key from the guard posted at the edge of town during the routine change of guards at sunrise and sunset. With great stealth, she made an impression of the key in wax and returned the original without detection. This daring act has given her a potential means of entry into Stonehome, though she has hesitated to use it herself, reluctant to leave the Swordfish and her crew for the time required for such an infiltration.
"Hearing that our interests are intertwined, I can entrust you with the wax impression of the key." She explains that with the impression, a set of artisan’s tools, and some skilled craftsmanship, a new key can be fashioned. She outlines the process, stating that an hour's work and a successful DC 15 Crafting check would result in a key capable of unlocking the front gate of Stonehome.
Madaxa thanks Janis for the information and the wax impression. "Is there any way we can easily identify ourselves as friends to your captain? In the event we need to move swiftly, I'd rather not need to convince him we're there to help."
That settled, he thanks her again and leads the way back toward the meeting spot where he and Dredd share what they've learned. "I've dabbled a bit with crafting items, but I'm by no means skilled. I worry that we're going to get one shot at using this."
Zarzuket has been meditating while Dredd and Madaxa are away.
"You two did a great job! Maybe we could get Elsie to do the crafting?"
Quatar looks around, shrugs.
"Nobody knows how to do that"
He grows impatient.
"Well, we have been standing around talking about three different ways to approach this. I say we just pick one way and go" he kisses his lucky ruby "The longer we wait for Elder Ordwi, the greater my worry"
"Since we cannot craft this key, I say we try the Well"
"We should give crafting the key a try. It should be difficult, but not impossible. If it doesn't work, then we can try the well."
Despite having just meditated, Zarzuket fidgets slightly. "I'm feeling impatient too. And I'm also worried. But it's more of a long-term worry. I'm not a fan of Gorumites, but they do have strict scruples regarding treatment of prisoners; they're not going to kill Elder Ordwi, even if Lord Meitremar orders it. To maximize the rescue's chances of success, we should take an hour to have Elsie make the key."
Dredd places a hand on Madaxa's shoulder, looking at him confidently. "Believe in yourself as I have believed in you. Worst case we take the well if you are unsuccessful. Not all will be lost, only time if we wait any longer."
Madaxa shrugs, "works for me." He sets out to gather what he'll need and finds a quiet place to work. Once realizing how heavy the artisan's toolkit is, he hands off all his torches to Dredd, "here, I don't need these. You can eat them or throw them at someone if you like!"
Madaxa didn't realize how much he appreciated Dredd's kind words until he opened the form up and found a perfect key. "Well I'll be damned. Maybe I should hang up my cloak and go legit!"
"You did great again! I'm sorry I doubted you."
Zarzuzet silently wonders if Quatar will apologize too.
"OK, now let's go and rescue Elder Ordwi."
Madaxa's replica key is magnificent! With the new key in hand, the group moves to Gorumite temple Stonehome with the hopes of quietly slipping inside. Once there, Madaxa puts their key to work and opens the front gate with ease, revealing an unkempt courtyard.
This courtyard is covered in dirt and weeds. Stonehome, a two-story keep, looms to the north, while a robust twenty foot-tall outer wall, capped with numerous spikes, protects the keep to the south. A wooden archer’s walkway stands against the inside of the wall, allowing a view of anyone foolish enough to besiege the keep. The eastern portion of the courtyard holds a large roof-covered well, while a small stable stands against the west wall of the valley.
Quatar looks around him.
"No guards yet? Just our luck!"
Shrugging, he proceeds toward the Stables.
Quatar recommends the party move into the stables.
These modest stables are in good repair and have two large pens. The smell of hay and animal refuse permeate the air. A large double door exits to the east.
Inside the stables, you find what you can only assume is Ida, the ram that Elsie mentioned. The creature is weak and malnourished from some illness and neglect. It does not even currently appear capable of walking.
Quatar doesn't hesitate to hand Ida the biscuit.
"Do we just leave her here?"
"Hmm. My first thought was to leave and take Ida to Elsie immediately and then enter again, but that could be risky; what if they notice the ram is gone while we're gone? But having a ram with us while we're sneaking around doesn't sound like a great idea either. And they probably don't visit the stables much anyway; otherwise Ida wouldn't be so sick to begin with."
"By the way, there's a secret door in the north wall. It would be useful if we were trying to escape from the roof."
Madaxa steers clear of the ram, remembering a particularly nasty one that tried to bite him last summer.
He smiles when Zarzuket notices the door, "good eye!"
"We should take the ram on our way out. Elder Ordwi has to be our focus." he doesn't look happy about leaving the animal, but this is the best hope.
After securing Ida and making sure she's comfortable, you move back out into the courtyard and north into the main building.
You find a hallway covered in dried, spattered blood. A pair of corpses, each fully clad in rusted Gorumite armor, lie rotting, each with wounds as if pierced by a dozen spears. A rusty ceiling grate gives a limited view into the room above.
Quatar pinches his nose.
"Do you think they were fighting with eachother?" he looks to Zarzuket "How do we determine how long it has been since this fight took place?"
He looks up.
"You should probably be asking Krachton that rather than me; he knows more about medical matters than I do. But if I had to estimate how long ago they died, I'd say..."
He looks it over, Eh, I spent more time working with the living than the dead. Didn't think I'd need to be performing many autopsies."
Madaxa quickly searches the bodies to see if there's anything of interest. before trying to peer up into the room above. He looks between the party and the grate to see if there's any easy way for them to get up there.
Quatar looks up and sees the main defensive weapons of the fortress above him, two ballistae.
As Madaxa moves to search the bodies, he hears the sound that adventurers fear most, the subtle click of a triggered pressure plate.
Rusty spikes to lance up out of the floor of the entire hallway!
The spikes stay raised and moving through the area is now difficult .
Zarzuket supposes he causes of death appear to be deep wounds inflicted by a greatsword. All of the weapons and armor carried by the bodies have rusted or decayed to uselessness.
Madaxa whimpers when a spike shoots up and gouges his leg. He looks down at the blood and is glad there are no flecks of rust in the wound. He carefully shifts away from the spike and looks around at the others, "everyone ok?"
Like a cat, Quatar dodges quickly out of the way, and watches in horror as half of his team is shanked.
"Goodness gracious. That was unexpected!" he looks at the character who fails his fortitude save "That looks nasty"
He decides to become more wary for the rest of his excursion here. Things just got real.
Looking around, he draws a boomerang.
Dredd see's the spike trap all too late. There is no time to move out of the way. He attempts to brace himself the best he can, but the sharp pain through the thick of his thigh proves too much. He lets out a loud and deep grunt, before inspecting his wound for further injuries.
"It appears my wound is clean, and I should be able to proceed. Is everyone else OK?" Dredd examines his allies before peering to Madaxa. "Usually you have a keen eye for these sorts of things." He says no more to Madaxa. He grabs onto his guisarme, wielding it ready for whatever may come next. "We must proceed ahead", he delcares as he weaves slowly through the triggered spikes.