They will need to be kept... detached from the populace, but theirrr military might would be useful. Sootscales muses.
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Karrdas could demand suitable rreward for hosting these soldierrrs when the time comes to assault Galt... Sootscales muses. We could cerrtainly use the money.
With an casual and vicious kick, Sootscales sends Grigori off the crate. An audible crack can be heard as the mans neck snaps, but it is soon drowned out by the roar of approval from the crowd. Grigori's lifeless body hangs by his neck as he gurgles his last.
** spoiler omitted ** Ricter:
Sootscales is sent for and after a quick explanation from one of the escorts with you he gives you a wicked smile. He leads you to the lowest level of the castle. While it doesn't have a dungeon, Sootscales finds you a completely bare room with stone walls and a solid iron door.
Shall I arrrange forrr morrre guarrrrrrds? the kobold hisses, looking mighty pleased with you.
A pair of gloves that glow faintly.
He has the body of a halfling, but the soul of a kobold. Sootscales says let him be one of us.
Kip:
You and Sootscales flee, most of the cultists hard on your heels. Sootscales gives the rope a hard tug as he reaches the end of it..
And collapses the majority of the tunnel, burying the screaming Gyronna cultists alive. You find the hole leading into the main chamber several minutes later, but it seems you were too late to influence the battle further. You see no sign of Grigori, or Karina, but the giant hand lays dead in the pit, apparently cut to death. Counting the bodies and the number of cultists following you, it seems you shattered the whole cult, including Malgorzata who apparently bled to death after finishing off the hand...
A few hours after the Statkari meeting, Sootscales summons the whole council once more. Allowing Kip to tell the tale of their heroics this evening (omitting Sootscale's disguised belly of course), the overweight kobold speaks nothing but praise for the halfling.
Kip: The jar flies away from Malgorzata, smashing against the wall behind her. She screams in fury and rage at you as you are revealed, and her cultists begin to draw daggers... We must flee, Kip! Sootscales hisses, appearing behind a nearby cultist with a dagger in her back, dropping the corpse and gesturing to the tunnel. Sootscales
Grapple maintain
The giant hand maintains its hold on Malgorzata, cutting her once more with foul fingernails... Karina freezes, recognising Sootscales... and begins to shriek in anguish. Grigori moves over to her, quickly drawing a scroll from his cloak and reading it- summoning a phantom steed in front of him. Karina is my puppet now, you fools! Grigori taunts you as he begins to make good his escape.
Kip: Sootscales declines the enlarge person, but accepts the vanish spell. Before you cast Vanish on him, he quickly sabotages several of the wooden supports, tying a sturdy rope to the sabotaged supports and trailing it further down the tunnel towards the ladder and the hatch. Before we do this... If odds look overwhelming, shout "For Karrdas!" We'll run and collapse this tunnel on the way out... Sootscales then does something rather odd. He scurries away for a moment, and when he returns he has discarded what appears to be a false belly, revealing that he actually in prime physical condition. He grins. Best to keep every man thinking I am past my best, Mikmek tells me... You cast Vanish on yourself and Sootscales and round the corner, two brave and small heroes ready to meet your maker, if the fates will it... Stealth Rounding the corner, you can see that is another freshly created chamber in the earth; a box shaped room, forty by forty feet. Seven women dressed in shabbles and holding daggers are stood around what seems to be some kind of binding or summoning circle. They each openly wear a holy symbol of Gyronna; a bloodshot eye, around their necks. In the middle of the circle, balanced on the end of three fingers, is a giant, disembodied hand; pale and pulsing with negative energy. Its bigger than you are, about the size of a well-built man. Just outside of the circle, stands a woman known to Kardas as 'Goodwife Niska', a middle-aged and jolly midwife, known to have been abandoned by her family years before in Brevoy. She is clad in full breastplate armour, her greying hair tied up into a severe hairstyle. Five torches in sconces illuminate the room, and the attention of the seven cultists is fixed on Niska- who is holding up a small jar of blood aloft and chanting as she prepares herself to anoint the giant hand with it. On the far side of the chamber, a simple stone altar with a globe shaped gemstone sits. In the two far corners of the room, two more individuals stand, watching. One is the orator Grigori, looking somewhat bored by the whole ritual and fidgeting with his fine clothes in the dirty chamber. Another is the sister of Kressle and a companion of the original Guardians; Karina, Jhod Kavken's personal assistant. She looks a little unsure of herself, but watches the ceremony nevertheless. She was dressed in dark robes and wore a hood, but she has now revealed her face. She too, wears a symbol of Gyronna. Above the circle, moonlight also illuminates the room somewhat from a large opening in the ceiling...
Kip: Where is yourr courage halfling...? Sootscales hisses, a grin on his face. Listening carefully to the hatch... Sootscales continues- I hear voices down there, distant. It sounds like this hatch leada to a long corridor. We should listen in no?... he says, beginning to carefully open the hatch.
Kip: Your plan goes off without a hitch, and you find yourself stood in a pretty normal barn, bales of hay stacked in various locations in the room. Suspicious, Sootscales begins to look around more carefully.
By the time he has finished, the Vanish spell has ended, but Sootscales has navigated a narrow corridor between bales of hay and found a hatch leading down...
Kip: The only other exit from the barn are the doors on the other side, which Sootscales elects to watch. Although the barn is absolutely, deathly quiet, several more women arrive in the course of half an hour or so;many fitting the 'profile' of the Cult of Gyronna. You wait for another half hour but there is no movement either inside or outside the barn... Sootscales rendezvous' with you. Perrhaps the barn doors are some kind of porrtal? We should examine them carefully...
Kip:
Your surprised by the sudden movement of a homeless vagabond bursting out of an alleyway, and trip into a pile of rubbish. The resulting crescendo is enough to attract Sootscale's attention, but you manage to keep it quiet enough for Bordona to not pay you more than a fleeting glance. Sootscales approaches you, hissing- Where did you come from? What are you doing here?!
Kip:
Bordona appears to be heading into the poorer, more dangerous section of the city. You stealthily tail her, and you notice that Sootscales is also tailing her; although he appears completely oblivious of your presence.
DM Only:
Puffing out his somewhat overweight chest, Sootscales has some progress to report to the other Statkari while Ilya has been out gathering information and talking to Kip. Honourrrred Statkaarriii... Sootscales begins, a glint of cunning in his eye. Sootscales wassss a ghost, looking into the hovelsss of the women the Grand Diplomat said were susspect. Sootscalesss wasss quick and remained hidden, not slowed by his girth even a little... he says pointedly, clearly a little sensitive to the teasing of the Statkari. A little nudge from Mikmek puts Sootscales back on track. Sootscales found little in these womens homes; but in the house of the Varisian woman Bordona... Sootscales found these, hidden under the floorboards! he gestures grandly, producing a handful of items that clatter on top of the grand table in the dining hall of Castle Swordhaven- a shabble, a dagger and most crucially of all, a small bracelet with a bloodshot eye emblazoned upon it.
We will do ourrr best... Sootscales promises.
I could try, Barrrron... But I think we should interrogate these women...
He iss a sstrangerr to these lands, Vayssh... Sootscales can make him disappearrr as quickly as he arrrived...
Heekataoul- Temple City.
Sootscales the Decadent- Sootscales spends his time in the castle in a private room, sat atop silk cushions and feasting upon fine foods and spirits with his loyal companion Mikmek. His duties of inspiring fear as a Royal Assassin have seldom been called upon, and he has grown fat and somewhat lazy in their absence.
Perhaps a background check on them both, as well as their group of colonists, would be prudent? Sootscales rasps in response to Casimir.
Sootscales tribe say kingdom should be called Okarthel di wer Sargts! Hmm... Maybe just Okarthel... Draconic:
Home of the Guardians. Okarthel= Homeland.
Sootscales agrees to Malthir's request, but insists he only speak to himself and Mikmek rather than gathering the tribe. Sootscales seems a little patronised by Malthir telling him what a silver coin is, but his naturally diplomatic ways are enough to keep a good rapport throughout conversation. Sootscales agrees working the mine could be profitable, but not when Oleg's Trading Post is such a small community- hes well aware of its location. Sootscales explains that Mikmek has agreed to continue to journey as Yelena's servant and act as the voice of the Sootscales tribe, as their diplomat. Sootscales is amenable and the talks go well, but hes not willing to send kobolds to the trading post at this time. You do get the impression that the alliance Sootscales speaks of isn't a trivial thing in his eyes either.
Draconic:
Sootscales switches to Draconic to respond to you- We will cause no trouble. Please keep me and my tribe informed as to your intentions and plans for the region- perhaps we can help in the future once we have built the tribes numbers once more.
Draconic:
I will continue in your service Lady, but I also hope to be a voice of the Sootscales as your group gains eminence in the land. Mikmek says smoothly, with Sootscales nodding in satisfaction.
Sootscales rolls his eyes in frustration. Why human ally not listen? Tartuk drove tribe to war over stupid god. Tribe numbers only thirty kobolds now. No warfare in your 'Green Belt'.
The sombre mood does not reflect onto Chief Sootscales, who has seen much death of his loved ones in the last few days. He speaks up once more- Tartuk made the tribe leave his god offerings here. he says, gesturing to a pile in the corner. It is yours, as an apology for the death of one of your tribe. Pile of 'Offerings':
(Each magical item has a small label denoting what it is, written in beautiful script.) 8,420 cp, 2,632 sp, 382 gp, a masterwork light metal shield (medium sized), seven +1 flaming crossbow bolts, a pair of boots of elvenkind, and a soiled leather bag. Inside the bag are the treasures stolen from the mites (who stole from the bandits who stole from Oleg’s). The leather bag contains 421 sp, 349 gp, 18 pp, and a plain brass wedding ring set with a single pearl, and a pouch containing a single dose of dust of illusion.
Sootscales hisses angrily as you lift him into the air, snarling at you in defiance. We do not seek more war! All the war the Sootscales committed was the monster Tartuk's fault! You have earnt an alliance with the Sootscales, an alliance paid for in blood. We will not forget your friend or the deeds of this day, human.
Sootscales groggily stands up once more, and steps over to the sleeping Casimir- lashing out at Tartuk with his club rather than wake the warrior up. Unfortunately, Tartuk's magic deflects Sootscales' club.
Sootscales nods in acknowledgement of your tale, and slowly takes the statue from your hands, holding it and slowly turning it over in his hands, looking thoughtful as he stands still for a few moments. Placing it upon the ground, the kobold raises his club and smashes it in a single blow. An audible gasp of shock is heard from all the kobolds around him. No longer shall the Sootscales tribe be beholden to a cruel God and his Shaman! he says fiercely. Sootscales, to the Shaman's cave- we will end his life here today... he implores. A slow silence forms as the kobolds tribe's fear and shame is obvious- none of them will meet their Chief's eye, and none respond to his call save Mikmek, who moves to stand with his Chief. Sootscales looks at you, a pleading tone present in the proud Kobold's voice. My tribe... They have spent too long cowed and in fear of Old Sharptooth and Tartuk. You have done much to be called friend. Will you face the Shaman with me too? You will forever have the gratitude of the Sootscales tribe if you would brave his power with me... |