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Melor's shot blasts through the back of the creature's head, and it lets go of his arm as it falls, twitching, to the ground.
Hign and her hunters emerge from their positions of cover once the threats have been neutralized. "Ankhravs," Hign says. "They are a common danger in Belkzen. You handled yourselves well against them."
Melor chuckles but hisses between his tusks as Njinga helps with the acid burns. "Not the first time the overgrown larvae have been a nuisance. Likely though we were going to be easy prey as well."
In the morning Melor finds time to get his bandages changed while also, mixing up some armaments for the day. Tunes up both his weapon as well as the joints of his arm and foot speaking very little on the matter unless asked. Then joins the others for breakfast.
"Skaytar is right, each clan holds it's own ways. The flood truce is a special time however where we all come to support one another. Many of my clan are seen as Prophet smiths, though we each have our own methods and support one another. We have those who hunt, trade, scout for good partners, seek knowledge, forge, every clan is like one of your cities. Separate from any other but bound together in their own ways and traditions."
[Ooc]Squeeek
You make a bit more progress on the hunt.
Skaytar continues to get to know the band of hunters, trying to catch up with them about the recent happenings in the Hold that he might have missed.
Njinga tries to keep up morale, but finds herself increasingly short of topics...
The hunt takes quite a while. On the sixth day, just as you are about to consider giving up completely, you finally are able to pinpoint the location of a small herd of aurochs nearby! Hign nods in satisfaction at your skills.
The land here is rocky and mostly barren except for small patches of tough, low grass and a few scraggly bushes. The Flood Road cuts through a low valley to the north, and low, steep walls give a raised vantage point over the dry riverbed. A dozen aurochs are grazing on one of the patches of grass.
Hign and her companions suggest a two-pronged approach: some members of the party move to the north to cut off that escape route, while the rest of the group moves in on one of the creatures. She makes it clear the goal is to only fell a single aurochs, as bringing down more will likely be wasteful given the distance back to the camp.
If you would prefer not to kill an aurochs, Hign suggests a more dangerous option, but one that carries just as much significance as a successful kill: aurochs vaulting. One of you will cover your hand in white paint and attempt to approach an aurochs without startling it. Then, you must leap over the beast and slap your painted hand on the animal as a sign of success.
Critical Success: You distract or otherwise foil the creature’s senses. Gain a +1 to your next skill check against that creature.
Success: You approach the creature without being noticed.
Failure: The creature notices you and rolls initiative.
Critical Failure: The creature knows you’re there but waits until you get close. You are off guard to the aurochs. The creature makes a horns Strike against you, then rolls initiative.
If you approach the aurochs without it noticing you, attempt a DC 18 Athletics or Acrobatics check.
Critical Success: You leap over the animal and slap your painted hand on a prominent part of your choice on the aurochs.
Success: You leap over the animal and leave a smeared handprint behind.
Failure: You fail to leap over the animal. It rolls initiative.
Critical Failure: You stumble before reaching the aurochs. It makes a single Strike against you then rolls initiative
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Ah! Patience pays off! Qísìk knows he is no quitter, but on the fifth day of what seemed to be a no-hunt, the hobgoblin was starting to have some doubts about whether they'd find any aurochs at all.
And now that the aurochs have presented themselves to the group, Qísìk finds himself rather impatient. Did he spend all of his patience over the last six days? Possibly, though it's more likely that it's the excitement he's feeling, the excitement resulting from the fact they finally managed to do what was becoming more and more unlikely: find these damned beasts!
"Follow my lead," the hobgoblin whispers as he eyes the aurochs with singular intent. Like a Molthuni mountain lion, the hobgoblin slinks forward. Speed is of the essence as there is not much in the way of cover once he leaves their vantage point, and for a man with a walking cane, the hobgoblin manages to be surprisingly fast!
Qisik slips up to the aurochs undetected and leaps into the air! Before the bovine realizes what is happening, the hobgoblin slaps its flank, leaving a smeared handprint behind. It's enough to get the approval of Hign and her hunters, who whoop and cheer!
The aurochs bellow with surprise as the herd runs off to the north. As Qisik returns to the group, Hign grins and slaps him on the shoulder. "Well done! You're as nimble as any orc hunter! Let us return to the Torrentmoot, where we can share the news of the aurochs' location and your vaulting prowess!"
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On their return trip Melor gives Qisik a good slap on the back likely almost knocking the smaller hobgoblin over. "See it's less about the hunt and more the journey. Now we know you've got the heart after all."
He lowers his crossbow having had that at the ready incase of an altercation, no need to ruin the pelt and meat of such an important beast. "The holds will eat well this year thanks to us."
The hobgoblin flashes the orc a pained smile. All these compliments are making him feel awkward because hobgoblins don't do compliments. A job well done speaks for itself, after all. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting us to be out and about for this long. My feet yearn for a break and my eyes are eager to consume a couple of books."
Hign and the other hunters spread word of your hunting prowess upon your return to the Torrentmoot camp. As you are getting settled back in, some of your friends and contacts in the camp point out three important dignitaries who have arrived while you were away. The three of them are particularly influential with Ardax ,and finding ways to impress them will surely grow your standing with the orc leader.
The three dignitaries are as follows:
Davorr: A traveling scholar who has been with the Pathfinder Society for the last decade, Davorr is a human dromaar who has come to the region to study the Flood Truce. He is inquisitive and bookish, often jotting notes into an ever-present notebook he keeps tucked in his belt or vest. Davorr has considerable knowledge regarding orc customs and history and is particularly intrigued by Ardax, whom he sees as an interesting exception to what most expect from orc leaders.
Grothlyn: Grothlyn Zor is a member of the Gutspear Hold. Ardax is rather nervous about Grothlyn being here, since her hold members seem doubtful that there’s much use to Ardax’s overtures to foreign dignitaries. Despite her status as a dignitary, Grothlyn outwardly cares very little about politics. Ardax is starting to suspect the Gutspear Hold is trying to send a message about the impossibility of working with outside groups. He worries the whole reason they sent the berserker here was to cause trouble with the other visitors.
Kestrel: With her easy laugh, friendly attitude, and cheerful demeanor, Kestrel is quite unlike many of her comparably dour comrades. An elf champion of Sarenrae, she is a survivor of Lastwall and part of the group who fled south to Absalom after the reemergence of Tar-Baphon. Kestrel gathered up a small force of like-minded soldiers to seek new allies in the fight against the Whispering Tyrant. Her search lead her to Ardax, and an invitation to Torrentmoot.
Discovery: Diplomacy, Perception, Society
Influnece: Arcana, Occultism, or Society (to engage
on academic topics), Belkzen Lore or Orc Lore (to share notes about local culture), Deception, Diplomacy, Intimidation
Polite conversation, academic discussions, and new information are the best ways to convince Davorr of someone’s character. (Lowest Influence DC is either Belkzen Lore or Orc Lore.) Davorr is intrigued by heredity and lineages. If a PC shares stories of their own ancestors and weathers Davorr’s questions that follow, they gain a +2 circumstance bonus to their next check to Influence him. This increases to +3 if the PC cites orc ancestors.
Grothlyn
Discovery: Belkzen Lore, Diplomacy, Orc Lore, Perception, Society
Influence: Athletics (to show off Strength though stunts or hard work), Deception, diplomacy, Intimidation, Hunting Lore, Plains Lore, or Warfare Lore (to share survival notes and war stories), Survival (to demonstrate self-sufficiency through discussion or deeds)
Grothlyn’s hold has experienced (and survived) hardship over the past few years, after being chased out of their historical territory by other holds. She appreciates tales of survival. (Lowest Influence DC is either Hunting Lore, Plains Lore, or Warfare Lore). Grothlyn is a practical and competitive orc. If a PC incorporates impressive or useful physical effort when Influencing Grothlyn, they gain a +1 circumstance bonus to their check.
Kestrel
Discovery: Diplomacy, Perception, Religion
Influence SKills: Deception, Diplomacy, Heraldry Lore (to speak of famous knights), Intimidation, Mercantile Lore (to help Kestrel acquire souvenirs), Religion (to discuss the recent Godsrain), Warfare Lore (to share war stories)
Kestrel is especially proud of the long tradition of knights from Lastwall. (Lowest Influence DC is Heraldry Lore.) Kestrel is enjoying Torrentmoot, but she’s encountered cultural barriers that make it hard to make friends and purchase mementos. If a PC incorporates enjoying some Torrentmoot activity with Kestrel, they gain a +2 circumstance bonus to the check to Influence her.
Skaytar gravitates toward the Pathfinder. And introduces himself, then broaches a conversation about what led Davorr to the moot.
"Are you people from Belkzen? People seldom leave the Hold, in my experience, and I'm interested to meet outsiders," Skaytar begins. "I, myself, studied in Varisia, briefly. The Twilight Academy. Have you heard of it? I found it to be...incompatible with my learning. Dangerous experiments, there."
With Skaytar occupying Davorr, Qísìk drifts towards the Sarenite. Sure, she's an elf, but everyone's a friend here, right? The hobgoblin introduces himself to the elf and after exchanging pleasantries, name-drops some of the Lastwall knights he has read about in recent years, hoping it will spark a conversation.
Kestrel and I are here for the same purpose. I should speak with her first... Lastwall was a big place though, and she's not familiar, is she?
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Melor decides to do what he came here to do, mingle with the other hold members and determine who would be worthy trade partners this year. As such the first person he approaches is Grothlyn.
His approach is stiff and curt at first, a mug of warm drink in both hands, he offers one over to Grothlyn. "To a successful Torrentmoot, may the hunters bring in plenty of fresh auroch." he toasts lightly.
"I recently returned from a hunt to determine where they are grazing this year, if you'd believe it that scrawny Hob managed to mark and leap over one of the bulls in the herd. Unfortunately it seems the Ankhravs are even more aggressive this year, luckily they were no match for my sturdy frame." He boasts only modestly about his own accomplishment in the matter. Pointing at some of the fresh and still scabby acid burns on his face which make his Eye slashes even more prominent. "Bastards tried to blind me, but their acid wasn't nothin' for Melor Ironhand, Gahaha! Tell me what tales of the hunt do you bring with you this year?"
Skaytar finds Davorr sitting on a stump in front of a small table. He wears a worn-looking breastplate that seems to have been repaired several times. Books are piled precariously high on the table, and his attention is riveted on whatever he’s reading. His eyebrows suddenly rise and he hurriedly dips a quill into a vial of ink and jots a note in a journal.
“Oh, just a moment,” he says, catching sight of his visitor. With practiced motions, he places a blotting page in his journal, then closes it before setting his quill aside. He rises and steps over to Skaytar. “So nice to have a visitor. I’ve seen you around but haven’t had a chance to introduce myself. I’m Davorr. How can I help you?”
When Skaytar mentions the Twilight Academy, Davorr nods. "I have heard the name, yes, but I have yet to visit there myself. Most of my travels have taken me around central and eastern Avistan, but I have found my attention drawn to Belkzen in recent years." He speaks at length of his journeys, but it doesn't seem like Skaytar has made much of an impression on the scholar yet.
***
Njinga and Qisik find Kestrel at her camp. The pennants above a cluster of finely made white and gold striped tents snap in the constant wind. The tents form a circle around a central campfire, where a group of several armor-clad individuals undertake what looks like regular upkeep on armor, weapons, and other equipment. Symbols of Iomedae and Sarenrae adorn the armor, cloaks, and pennants.
A tall elf steps forward and smiles. “Hello fellow Torrentmooters,” she laughs. “That’s kind of a mouthful, isn’t it? Maybe I should just say, ‘hello friends’ instead.” The woman’s dark eyes twinkle with amusement. She then makes a formal bow, her clenched fist at her chest. “My name is Kestrel—a Knight of Lastwall, as are my companions,” she says and gestures to the people working on repairs. “On behalf of his grace Lord Ulthun II, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
She smiles brightly again. “A bit stuffy, but we’re nothing if not sticklers for tradition,” she says. “So, whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
After introductions are out of the way, Kestrel eagerly engage Qisik in a discussion about the famous knights of her order. Njinga hangs back to observe, but is unable to glean any insights about the elf.
***
Melor tracks down Grothlyn. The sound of shattering wood fills the area, and the source is immediately clear: a tall, muscular orc woman with a splitting maul strikes powerful swings at nearby logs. A jumbled pile of already-split wood stands nearby, as does a smaller pile of intact logs. She heaves the maul a few more times, each blow splitting the wood easily. She wipes her brow, then seems to notice the gunslinger is there.
“Well, are you going to help, or just stand there?” she asks. She takes the offered drink and offers Melor an axe in return to help with the work.
The conversation soon turns to hunting and survival, and the berserker warms up to Melor as she shares her own stories with him.
***
As night falls, you return to your own camp to rest and recover.
Skaytar returns to the camp, "I just met with a man named Davorr. Some kind of scholar? I can't quite figure out why he is so interested in the moot and in the Hold."
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Melor takes the spare axe in exchange for the drink and takes his turn spliting wood. Having a tine trading stories of the hunt with Grothlyn.
Joining Skaytar at the bonfire Melor nods, "The lands are rich in history and knowledge. Just look at what's been taught by our hunt. I've net with one of the gutspewr representatives, she has a mighty spirit."
He then offers to those of the group who don't have other lodging. "If you would like to learn more, I offer you to stay in my tent, it has plenty of room. All the more chance to learn how it is to truly live as the Belkzen orcs do."
Boisterous laughter from nearby gets your attention. You can see a small crowd of orcs is gathered around a small pavilion. Inside, a heavily muscled orc grabs what looks like a large dumbbell that’s set on the ground. He tries to lift it, straining and gritting his teeth before letting out a roar of frustration as his hand slips from the bar. The crowd mutters in surprise. The large orc turns to another orc. “It’s impossible, Chak! No one can lift this.”
The second orc grins then stoops down. With a smooth motion he lifts the dumbbell off the ground and holds it over his head for a moment before dropping it onto a pile of ox hides. “Not impossible,” he says with a raspy voice, “but difficult. Come back again tomorrow and try.” He grins and looks around the tent. "Are there any others who wish to try their luck with the drunken dumbbell?"
The rules for the challenge are simple: using only one hand, the person must lift the drunken dumbbell off the ground and hold it over their head for 2 seconds. Accomplishing this feat requires a total of 3 consecutive successes. A critical success counts as two successes, while a failure or critical failure immediately ends the challenge as the character either can’t get a grip or the magical weight rips it out of their hand.
Chak allows others to assist the challenger before the test begins (with spells and abilities, for example), but once the test starts, any assistance nullifies the result. There are several ways characters might help. In general, lower the challenge DC by 1 for helpful ideas, or lower it by 2 for particularly clever ideas. The DC can’t be lowered by more than 2 from assistance. For spells that grant bonuses to strength or other clear numerical advantages, simply use the spell effect instead of changing the DC.
A PC who wants to undertake the challenge begins by attempting a DC 20 Athletics check to lift the dumbbell off the ground. Next, they must succeed at a DC 19 Reflex save. Finally, they have to attempt a DC 19 Athletics or Acrobatics checks to finish the challenge. A character can attempt this challenge once per day.
Attentive PCs might study Chak’s successful lift. A PC who Investigates and succeeds at a DC 18 Athletics, Acrobatics, or appropriate Lore check realizes the way he’s lifting the weight keeps it perfectly level; this grants them a +1 circumstance bonus on their attempts at the challenge. A PC who critically succeeds can additionally tell the grip Chak is using is a bit peculiar; this insight grants them a +2 circumstance bonus on any attempts at the challenge
"Looks pretty heavy to me, but I can try," Skaytar offers, gamely.
He barely manages to get it off the ground. LAughing, he says, "Maybe my luck will be better tomorrow!"
There's some sort of trick to this... Still, it's not as though I have another hand to use.
Njinga gives an attempt as well, first praying to Mazludeh for Calm and Guidance to allow her to better focus on her task.
She sets her stance, curls her fingers around the bar, and then in one smooth motion, hoists it above her head!
The crowd breaks out into cheers as Njinga is able to succeed on her first attempt! Several of the excited spectators approach to clap her on the back or offer her drinks. Chak seems impressed as well. "Ha! Nicely done. You've earned a reward for your accomplishment!"
He hands Njinga a pouch full of 50 gp!
***
After the excitement starts to die down, you rest for the night. The next day, shortly after you have finished your breakfast, a group of orcs approach, worried and angry expressions on their faces. The woman at the head of the group speaks first. “I’m Therisk. All of us have children who have been missing from the camp for two days. While this is normally not that strange, we aren’t from this area and told them all to be back last evening. They told us they were going to forage. Ardax said you can help. Will you look for them?”
The hobgoblin fails to comprehend how Njinga managed to do what she just did and like the rest of the crowd, gets up and applauds her success. He's stunned.
***
Qísìk eyes his companions to gauge their reaction to this request. While he doesn't mind helping, he realizes that failing this task will have severe repercussions. "We can try to help, yes. Like you, some of us are also strangers to these parts, so we can't make any promises other than that we will try. Now, are all of you from the same tribe?"
Perhaps there's a common thread to be found in those who went missing.
"Yes. The children's names are Kar, Xan, and Ilo. They don’t have their full adult names yet. We sent them to forage for additional supplies for the camp. Kar, the oldest, kept talking about finding mushrooms. It’s pretty rare to find such a thing here, especially this time of year.
"Part of being a child in Belkzen is testing your strength and determination against the land and its dangers. But they’re not old enough yet to be expected to survive real danger, and they know better than to push their limits. Something unexpected must have happened
"The children are properly headstrong, but these three have never failed to return on time. That’s part of why we allowed them to come along. They mentioned wanting to check to the east. You may want to start your search in that direction."
The hobgoblin ponders where one might find mushrooms nearby. To the east, where the kids supposedly went, are some valleys that could nurture mushrooms. Could they have found a cave and, stupidly so, decided to go in? He shakes his head to dismiss the thought, for now isn't the time to speculate.
He gives the woman a succinct reply. "We will do just that then." When the group has left, Qí shares his thoughts on where they might be able to find the three orcs: in the low valleys to the east.
Skaytar nods, glad that Qi is familiar with the area.
Njinga's brow creases as she hears the task ahead of them, but her expression regains its stolidity once it's clear that Qísìk is on point.
"How is it you know Belkzen so well already, Mr. Beqk? I had thought you new to these lands."
Qísìk offers Njinga a shrug and downplays his contributions. "I listen. I read." Silently, he has more to say in the safe space of his mind. I plan. I plot
"So in a sense, I know of things, rather than know things."
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"Reading and knowing is a good skill. But the best would be to live it. Come I think I know the way to the valley in question."
Melor gathers his pack and readies to make way out into Blekzen. "We should find them soon, long before the floods come in, they won't want to miss the sight." He says this reassuringly, but anyone who's been privy to the floods knows that the worst place to be when they do happen is underground.
With Melor leading the way, you make excellent time as you pick up on the children's trail and follow it to the eastern hills. After two hours, you reach a narrow ravine filled with loose stones. The steep walls are somewhat green with tough, clinging grasses keeping the earth in place. The north end of the ravine is shaded by a large boulder, and a dark area beneath it is comparatively lush. A carpet of green moss has numerous mushrooms growing from it.
Melor notes many places where the mushrooms have been recently picked. Peering over the overhang, you spot a narrow opening that leads into the hillside. Just a short distance inside the dark tunnel, several large rocks and numerous small ones are piled, blocking further passage. It will probably take about 10 minutes to move the rocks and clear the passage.
"I'm not expert, but I think you'll need to direct more of that blast out," Skaytar advises. "So no one is crushed."
Not knowing what Melor is doing, Qísìk takes a step back. And then another. How is this contraption he's applying going to undo this pile of rocks?
"Are you sure this is safe?"
With Skaytar's advice, Melor safely places a few charges among the rubble. The detonation clears the debris away! Huge slabs of stone line the passageways beyond the blockage, with smaller rocks carefully placed between the slabs to create walls. Additional large stones form the ceiling. The construction is rough and unfinished. A cool, dry wind whistles through the halls.
Four skeletal soldiers in rusted chain shirts stalk the hall. When they notice you, they take a strong position to block the way forward! Two of them stand in front with claws raised, while the other two stand behind them with glaives at the ready!
Skytar channels vital energy into one of the lead skeletons, then flings a ball of fire at it.
for
Njinga presents her shield strongly, light shooting forth from the eyes of the ouroboros.
"Return to peace!"
Njinga’s healing energy annihilates one of the skeletons. The other three are damaged to varying degrees. They move forward to attack, slashing Njinga with claws and glaives!
The hobgoblin is caught by surprise when they spot a group of skeletons and the skeletons spot them! He quickly ransacks his brains for what he knows about these particular undead. He then conjures forth fire with which he assaults the undead.