Thym reports via message what he's seen.
He remains a crow and flies back to Blake. They hole up in underbrush nearby Lucas's conversation.
Blake seems to be gnawing on half a rabbit.
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I'm just going to do that. . . . Thym transforms into a perfectly ordinary looking crow. He flies first to a tree in the woods near town walls, then to the platform on top of the ziggurat.
From there he flies in a crooked, clockwise loop among the buildings surrounding the base of the ziggurat. As an excuse to pause, and to make it less obvious that he's casing the joint, he half-heartedly feigns interest in fruit trees and old bones as he goes.
Then, he flies a second loop between the walls and the buildings closest to them.
Does he see or hear anything that has to do with the apprentices or the full moon festival?
I agree that it'd be good to get everyone out with as little bloodshed as possible. Just because these people make there livings partially by banditing doesn't mean we should kill them. I like your plan of finding everyone by burrowing to them. But what happens if they're being held somewhere up off of the ground, like on a second floor or in that gnarly looking stone pyramid? Also, you can earthglide for about eleven minutes a day, right? Would it make sense if I wildshape and fly around first to see if I can spot them, and maybe talk to them? Then you could earthglide more precisely in to grab a couple? Thym is nervous about blowing through too many spells this early in the morning. Things tend to get more complicated than expected.
Wildshaping into a small wind elemental to get home quickly, Thym swings by the gorillas' glade to gently ruffle Hazel's hair, sweeps through Hasta's lab to give her an air kiss, then blows on Blake's whiskers to wake him up. When the tiger blinks and starts to stretch, Thym becomes himself again. The cat stands up and butts his head against the hafling's. Thym runs into his bedroom for a spare pair of leggings and a wool sweater, just in case Marble gets cold later. He stuffs the clothes, along with a fully charged wand of cure light wounds, alongside all of the provisions in his bag-of-holding-lined satchel. He notices the zumbini pin in there, as well as a masterwork kukri, and a small purse of gems. Huh. Forgot about that stuff. He dashes back out to the workshop (thank you Jersey of the Bull) and climbs onto Blake's back. They gallop down the hill to the Red Light and stand outside the door next to Clayton, ready to go. Based on the way Clayton's standing near the rangy elf, Thym figures that it's Lucas, and he's ready too. He wonders if Marble is still inside, and if they should let him know that they're all out here.
"I wish I had asked Hasta to walk down here with Blake! I'm going to fly home to wake him up, if he's not up yet. We should both be back here and ready to go in about ten minutes." Thym is feeling restless, too. And like he wants to leave as soon as possible in order to be back as soon as possible. "Marble, do you want to borrow some clothes? Does anyone want anything from the workshop or apothecary?" [You guys! I wrote a whole post that was basically this but with maundering about how teaching Hammingbell teenagers lately has caused Thym to fall into the sad habit of repeating information about processes and deadlines, even though Clayton, Lucas, and Marble already know that we gotta get there soon in order to figure out and avert or divert Damning's religious services. Thym also thought about how Ester and Terpene would be relatively happy being fattened with spinach, but not so much with steak. Then I found out that I was disconnected from the internet after clicking "Submit Post".]
Truth be told, Thym had felt unpleasantly conspicuous when he was alone at the bar. As other patrons filtered in, he wondered what they would make of the little pile his heavy canvas backpack(lined with a bag of holding, half-full of stuff) and hartwood spear made leaning against his bar stool with his rosewood armor, bristling with thorns. He'd gotten used to wearing tunics around town with, at most, a knife, which was primarily used for cutting herbs along roadsides. He felt out of adventuring practice and wished he'd woken Blake from his nap for the company instead of just asking the tiger to meet up with them on the road later. His drink was running low by that time, and he'd scarfed all the paprika-dusted crackers. His heart lightens considerably when a dust-dusted Clayton clomps to a rest next to him and asks Jess for snacks that weren't potato based. Thym thinks she didn't hear him because she kindly offers to refresh a drink that Clayton doesn't yet have and buzzes away, probably to make some other customers' cheese platters and mojitos. "Don't worry," Thym says. "Hasta will get a kick out of your bringing potatoes." He rustles around in his satchel, "And I brought two dozen boiled eggs, a couple pounds of hazelnuts, a quart of honey, peppermint-yarrow tea, St. John's wort tea, sun-dried tomatoes, blackberry leather, salt, a flask of walnut oil, and three loaves worth of toasted rusks to share. Besides, it's at most a five hour walk to Damning." Saying Damning's name reminds him of why they were going on this expedition to begin with. He felt so responsible. Jasper was a mess, confined for now in his workroom infirmary and under a regimen of frustratingly gentle sedative and calming herbs. Thym's missing apprentice, in particular, had been so volatile the he'd just wanted her get out of Hammingbell and work through some energy. Or something. Away from him. A low-level bandit quest had seemed just the thing. But now Ester and her snapping turtle companion Terpene were, according to Jasper's ravings, doomed. At least unless they got there in time. Just as he feels his mood sinking again, despite the pleasure of Clayton's conversation, Lucas appears as himself from the folds of an illusory collective. His perfect impression of Hasta's wry half-smile startles and delights Thym. "I don't think it's ever been accurate to say that Hasta is good. But she's well. She's really, really into making things these last couple of years. For a while it was a small army of specialized constructs, then it was a baby, and most lately it's staves. She might be having too much fun being nominally evil, but I think she'll work through it. Or realize that she can't work through it? Anyway, we cuddle Hazel a lot and go on picnic and walks most afternoons. "Hazel's not quite two yet, but she already helps me in the garden and brings me worms and bugs to heal. And while she's too young to have a definite class, she makes little constructs out of sticks and blocks to dig in the ground or walk around Hasta's lab."
Hello, bird! |