"Hello, we're Hadrah..." begins the woman
"...and Hadrod," interjects her husband, although it's not immediately clear which is which.
"Ver..."
"It was so lucky you arrived when you did, goodness me, that poor Eloiah...""Burned in his wagon, he did...awful thing, an absolutely..."
"...awful, awful thing," agrees her husband. As the two of them chatter to you, they begin setting to work preparing a meal, it is clear this is their domain and that they are well used to preparing food for this sized camp. "So where are you from? More mercenaries, I hear. And a dwarf! Begging your pardon Sir...But I've hardly ever seen one of your kind..."
"No..."
"Hadrod!" chastises his wife with a scowl. "Mind your manners!...I do apologise, good sir, but he's hardly ever seen one of your kind..."
Finally giving up Losk waits for the pair to finish. "It's ver nice t' meet yee Hadrah and Hadred. My name is Losk. We hoped we could help ge ever'one some sust'nance. Ya look like the best bet fo that. How can we help?"
"I am Father Zastoran, cleric of Nethys," he says inclining his head politely. "I have done what I can for these two, they were very near death. Kellien was trying to rescue Eloiah, but was overcome by the smoke. Trevvis only barely managed to pull her free of the wagon before he lost consciousness. We were very close to losing two more of our band tonight.""Do you have any skill with healing?" he asks Neskari. "I will be able to do more for them tomorrow, however it might be best if we were to be as close to full strength as possible. You never know what may be out there in the darkness."
Perception check to look in the wagon (1d20+5=16)
"Bah!" Nuveril shudders. "Charlatan or consorter with evil spirits he may have been, but fire is a sneak and coward's way to kill. I would not travel with one unwilling to meet his enemy face to face."
"I am Father Zastoran, cleric of Nethys," he says inclining his head politely. "I have done what I can for these two, they were very near death. Kellien was trying to rescue Eloiah, but was overcome by the smoke. Trevvis only barely managed to pull her free of the wagon before he lost consciousness. We were very close to losing two more of our band tonight."
"Do you have any skill with healing?" he asks Neskari. "I will be able to do more for them tomorrow, however it might be best if we were to be as close to full strength as possible. You never know what may be out there in the darkness."
"Well met Father Zastoran. I am Neskari Kataparan of the Badawi. Unfortunately I don't think I can do much more than you already have for them but perhaps Brother Losk, a servant of Serenrae, might be able to help. Were Kellien and Trevvis friends with Eloiah?"
"Well met Father Zastoran. I am Neskari Kataparan of the Badawi. Unfortunately I don't think I can do much more than you already have for them but perhaps Brother Losk, a servant of Serenrae, might be able to help. Were Kellien and Trevvis friends with Eloiah?"
Kellien and Trevvis are now both stable, however they were clearly very close to death. Zastoran shakes his head in response to your question.
"I can't really say," he responds."I think they were just doing their duty and protecting the camp. I didnt see the fire start, the first I heard were the panicked animals. I came rushing over to see Trevvis stumbling out of Eloiah's wagon with Kellien over his shoulder. I was able to help them a little - but it will take a little time before they are completely healed."
"It's a terrible thing about Eloiah," he continues. "Don't get me wrong...I'm quite certain he was a fraud, taking advantage of Lady Almah's generosity. Nonetheless, he was good company - widely travelled. All the way from Varisia, you know. I'm going to miss him.." The priest lapses into silence, casting a look in the direction of the burnt out wagon.
Hadrod and Hadrah put Losk and Ato to work cutting vegetables and distributing the meal once the stew is ready. The four mercenaries sit around the fire to eat their meal whilst Almah's personal, red-armored guards remain at their post guarding her tent. Hadrod and Hadrah fuss about, cleaning up and serving ale as required.
As the smell of the cooking spreads through the camp, a dirty, dishevelled man appears out of the darkness. The rest of the camp raise no alarm, and he is clearly one of their member, although not someone you have heard mentioned. He collects some stew from Hadrah and sits down at the fire, seemingly uncaring as the mercenaries nearby pointedly move to the other side. Ignoring the rest of you, the uncouth stranger begins shovelling food into his mouth with his fingers, noisily devouring the stew and gulping down a mug of ale.
Father Zastoran's face shows his revulsion as he turns his back on the newcomer, silently finishing his stew as he tries to ignore the disgusting sight and sounds of the revolting man feeding himself. Leaving you to conduct the investigation, Garavel takes some food for himself and Lady Almah into her tent. He indicates that you should report to him as soon as possible with your conclusions.
"Bah!" Nuveril shudders. "Charlatan or consorter with evil spirits he may have been, but fire is a sneak and coward's way to kill. I would not travel with one unwilling to meet his enemy face to face."
After peering inside briefly, Nuveril discovers nothing else of note other than the fortune teller's burnt body.
Nuveril accepts a bowl of stew, though she sniffs at it suspiciously. Everyone else seems to be eating it with no ill effects, however, and only a fool turns down a meal; you never know when another one will present itself. She takes a seat with the mercenaries and, after a few bites of stew, indicates the newcomer with a jut of her chin. "Who is the outcast, and why do you shun him?"
She takes a seat with the mercenaries and, after a few bites of stew, indicates the newcomer with a jut of her chin. "Who is the outcast, and why do you shun him?"
Dullen, the man who helped Nuveril to her feet earlier, answers with a derisive snort. "That's Dashki," he says "Lady Almah's so called 'expert' on gnolls. I wouldnt trust him as far as I can throw him." He leans a little closer to Nuveril, lowering his voice as he does "He's a little too fond of our employer, if you ask me. Wouldnt surprise me if it turned out that he was the one who burnt old Eloias's wagon. Jealousy can make a man do wicked things."
As Losk wanders around distributing the stew, he will ask subtle questions here and there, trying to work out anything more about the mood of the people, and attempting to pick up on anyone telling him falsehoods.
As he passes the two injured men, he speaks with Neskari, "Ah'll see if the Goddess u'll shine her light, on these two."
Dullen, the man who helped Nuveril to her feet earlier, answers with a derisive snort. "That's Dashki," he says "Lady Almah's so called 'expert' on gnolls. I wouldnt trust him as far as I can throw him." He leans a little closer to Nuveril, lowering his voice as he does "He's a little too fond of our employer, if you ask me. Wouldnt surprise me if it turned out that he was the one who burnt old Eloias's wagon. Jealousy can make a man do wicked things."
The halfling takes in the information with a spark of interest in her eyes. "Was he in camp when the fire started? And what does he do away from camp?"
Dullen waits as Dashki finishes the last of his meal, standing up with a desultory look at the rest of the group and moving away a short distance to his tent. Once the unkempt man has left, the mercenary answers Nuveril’s question, shrugging as he continues eating the stew.
”Who knows what he does. He calls it ‘scouting’. Me? I think he spends far to much of his time trying to get a look in to Almah’s tent,” replies Dullen. ”If anyone in the camp is responsible for what happened to Eloiah, it’d be Dashki – take my word for it. He wasn’t with us when the fire started, was he? Anyone see him?” this last is addressed to the other four mercenaries seated around the fire who answer by shaking their heads.
”Nope. He was nowhere near us,” answers one of the female mercenaries, a dark haired woman called Yesper. Turning to address Nuveril directly, she continues. ”It was just the six of us plus Hadrod and Hadrah who were getting the meal ready. I reckon Dullen’s right – Dashki could easily have crept over and set fire to Eloiah’s wagon. He couldn’t stand how friendly that fortune teller was with Almah. Honestly, I don’t know why she keeps him on. He gives me the creeps.”
As Losk tends to the wounds of the two incapacitated mercenaries, Father Zastoran comes over to assist. Losk’s spells are enough to bring the two fallen soldiers around, although they both remain very weak. ”It’s always good to meet another man with a calling,” remarks the cleric with a smile, holding his hand out to Losk as he introduces himself. ”I’m Father Zastoran, servant of Nethys. Thank you for your assistance. I was able to stabilise their wounds, but was not able to do much more for them.”
As Losk tends to the wounds of the two incapacitated mercenaries, Father Zastoran comes over to assist. Losk’s spells are enough to bring the two fallen soldiers around, although they both remain very weak. ”It’s always good to meet another man with a calling,” remarks the cleric with a smile, holding his hand out to Losk as he introduces himself. ”I’m Father Zastoran, servant of Nethys. Thank you for your assistance. I was able to stabilise their wounds, but was not able to do much more for them.”
"Ma name's Losk, Losk Hammertin, in the service of Her Lady Sarenrae. I'd have been able ta do no better on me own, but the two of us together, well, we know'n now that the'll be aright. A few days now, and they should get back to full strength, assumin' o' course, they don't try to spit roast the'selves again." All of this is said with a grin, as Losk brushes dust from his hands onto his now less than white robes and stands.
Looking up at the man, and glancing over at the dishevalled man, he says to the priest "So wha's his story then? Doesn' look to fit in, and only just back after the need for help is gone. D'reckon he may o' started it? "
Dullen waits as Dashki finishes the last of his meal, standing up with a desultory look at the rest of the group and moving away a short distance to his tent. Once the unkempt man has left, the mercenary answers Nuveril’s question, shrugging as he continues eating the stew.
”Who knows what he does. He calls it ‘scouting’. Me? I think he spends far to much of his time trying to get a look in to Almah’s tent,” replies Dullen. ”If anyone in the camp is responsible for what happened to Eloiah, it’d be Dashki – take my word for it. He wasn’t with us when the fire started, was he? Anyone see him?” this last is addressed to the other four mercenaries seated around the fire who answer by shaking their heads.
”Nope. He was nowhere near us,” answers one of the female mercenaries, a dark haired woman called Yesper. Turning to address Nuveril directly, she continues. ”It was just the six of us plus Hadrod and Hadrah who were getting the meal ready. I reckon Dullen’s right – Dashki could easily have crept over and set fire to Eloiah’s wagon. He couldn’t stand how friendly that fortune teller was with Almah. Honestly, I don’t know why she keeps him on. He gives me the creeps.”
Nuveril frowns and counts painstakingly on her fingers. "The four of you, the two who were burned, and the cooks? You're the only ones accounted for? That leaves the holy man and the high and mighty lady, as well as her red-suited harem, besides the supposed "gnoll expert." Where were they?"
Looking up at the man, and glancing over at the dishevalled man, he says to the priest "So wha's his story then? Doesn' look to fit in, and only just back after the need for help is gone. D'reckon he may o' started it? "
"I wouldn't really know," answers Zastoran with a shrug. "I do know that he was not happy at the time Lady Almah spends...well spent...with Eloiah. She consulted with him every day, often two or three times."
"To be honest, that Dashki's obsession with our lady is quite disturbing," confesses the red haired priest. "No one with healthy desires skulks around a pretty woman the way he does. He's always creeping about and sneaking looks in places he shouldnt. Who knows what a scoundrel like that might be capable of? I can't imagine anyone else in the camp being responsible."
Nuveril frowns and counts painstakingly on her fingers. "The four of you, the two who were burned, and the cooks? You're the only ones accounted for? That leaves the holy man and the high and mighty lady, as well as her red-suited harem, besides the supposed "gnoll expert." Where were they?"
One of the other mercenaries gives a short laugh. "So even the Lady Almah is a suspect? For setting fire to her own wagon and killing her personal fortune teller when she could have just asked her pet guards to take care of things," he chuckles once more shaking his head. "Promise me one thing, little one. Promise me you'll let me watch when you go and 'interrogate' her, will you?" One or two of the other guards laugh as Dullen turns back to Nuveril to answer her question more seriously.
"The pactmaster guards? Well they're usually stationed around Almah's tent, I expect they were on watch at the time," he ponders for a moment. [b]"I'm pretty sure Father Zastoran was here with us, at least for a little while. I think Utarchus here was making too much noise for him, as I remember. He was heading back to his own wagon to catch up on some reading when the fire broke out."
"Let's face it," interjects the man called Utarchus. "We all know what happened. Dashki was jealous of Almah's late night consultations with Eloiah. He took his chance and took out the competition. Who else would have done it?" he concludes his analysis of the situation with a shrug.
Sorry Monty, just realised I put those rolls on yesterday and never altered the link to say what they were....Grrr
The first was gather info, and the second sense motive, as Losk wanders the camp.....
Zastoran appears to be speaking honestly, as do Hadrod and Hadrah. The mercenaries are not really speaking to you directly, although they seem to be getting along well enough with Nuveril. Dashki is decidedly surly and doesnt interact with anyone else around the fire, soon retiring to his tent.
Nuveril finishes her stew and rises to her feet. "I will speak to this 'gnoll expert,'" she announces. "He may be a charalatan as well, but if he has anything to teach me about gnolls, I would learn it before he is condemned as a murderer."
She approaches the outcast's tent. "You! Daski! I wish to share words with you!"
After a few moments, the dishevelled man emerges from his tent, standing before the entrance resting on his staff as he addresses Nuveril. His other hand never strays far from the scimitar hanging at his side as eyes flick this way and that the whole time, rarely looking her in the eye as he speaks.
"What?"he asks sullenly. "Who are you to demand my attention? Aren't you supposed to be finding out who set fire to Eloiah?"
Although she appears to be furiously scrubbing some pots, Hadrah has moved herself closer to Dashki's tent, eagerly listening in on his exchange with Nuveril.
After a few moments, the dishevelled man emerges from his tent, standing before the entrance resting on his staff as he addresses Nuveril. His other hand never strays far from the scimitar hanging at his side as eyes flick this way and that the whole time, rarely looking her in the eye as he speaks.
"What?"he asks sullenly. "Who are you to demand my attention? Aren't you supposed to be finding out who set fire to Eloiah?"
Although she appears to be furiously scrubbing some pots, Hadrah has moved herself closer to Dashki's tent, eagerly listening in on his exchange with Nuveril.
The halfling shrugs. "Let's say I am. No one saw you when the fire started, so you ought to be questioned, yes? They call you a 'gnoll expert.' How many have you killed?"
"Well met Father Zastoran. I am Neskari Kataparan of the Badawi. Unfortunately I don't think I can do much more than you already have for them but perhaps Brother Losk, a servant of Serenrae, might be able to help. Were Kellien and Trevvis friends with Eloiah?"
Kellien and Trevvis are now both stable, however they were clearly very close to death. Zastoran shakes his head in response to your question.
"I can't really say," he responds."I think they were just doing their duty and protecting the camp. I didnt see the fire start, the first I heard were the panicked animals. I came rushing over to see Trevvis stumbling out of Eloiah's wagon with Kellien over his shoulder. I was able to help them a little - but it will take a little time before they are completely healed."
"It's a terrible thing about Eloiah," he continues. "Don't get me wrong...I'm quite certain he was a fraud, taking advantage of Lady Almah's generosity. Nonetheless, he was good company - widely travelled. All the way from Varisia, you know. I'm going to miss him.." The priest lapses into silence, casting a look in the direction of the burnt out wagon.
"They didn't have any qualms with Eloiah did they? Is there any reason why Kellien or Trevvis would have wished him harm?"
Neskari is going to look over the remains of the wagon for a cause of the fire and for anything out of the ordinary.
Perception check (+2 if sight or sound based) (1d20+6=26)
He is then going to descreetly take a look at Zastoran to see if there is anything on his person that could have started the fire or seems out of place.
Perception check (+2 if sight or sound based) (1d20+6=7)
Looking up at the man, and glancing over at the dishevalled man, he says to the priest "So wha's his story then? Doesn' look to fit in, and only just back after the need for help is gone. D'reckon he may o' started it? ""I wouldn't really know," answers Zastoran with a shrug. "I do know that he was not happy at the time Lady Almah spends...well spent...with Eloiah. She consulted with him every day, often two or three times."
"To be honest, that Dashki's obsession with our lady is quite disturbing," confesses the red haired priest. "No one with healthy desires skulks around a pretty woman the way he does. He's always creeping about and sneaking looks in places he shouldnt. Who knows what a scoundrel like that might be capable of? I can't imagine anyone else in the camp being responsible."
"Did Eloiah have anything of particular value or of a unique nature?"
"They didn't have any qualms with Eloiah did they? Is there any reason why Kellien or Trevvis would have wished him harm?"
"Not that I know of. I'm pretty sure they were by the campfire when the wagon went up anyway - they were running in to help get Eloiah out and were overcome by the heat and smoke," answers Zastoran.
"Did Eloiah have anything of particular value or of a unique nature?"
The red-headed priest shakes his head, then shrugs noncomittally. "Again, not that I know of. I mean he had all kinds of exotic trinkets from Varisia - he used to use a battered old deck of cards for his 'divinations'," continues Zastoran with a derogatory tone. "No doubt you could pick up the same sort of collection at an ordinary market in any of the big Katapesh cities."
As Neshkari looks over the wagon, he doesnt discover anything of note other than the burnt body of the fortune teller. There are the burnt remains of some books, together with various items of clothing, bowls, plates and other utensils and ordinary furniture. You doubt that very much of it could be salvaged.
The halfling shrugs. "Let's say I am. No one saw you when the fire started, so you ought to be questioned, yes? They call you a 'gnoll expert.' How many have you killed?"
He snorts derisively, looking Nuveril up and down. "More than you would be able to count," he answers shortly. "As for where I was - I was scouting over that way. The rest of them don't seem to understand how exposed we are here. If a pack of gnolls were to stumble across the camp." he breaks off with a shrug.
The halfling shrugs. "Let's say I am. No one saw you when the fire started, so you ought to be questioned, yes? They call you a 'gnoll expert.' How many have you killed?"He snorts derisively, looking Nuveril up and down. "More than you would be able to count," he answers shortly. "As for where I was - I was scouting over that way. The rest of them don't seem to understand how exposed we are here. If a pack of gnolls were to stumble across the camp." he breaks off with a shrug.
Nuveril's eyes spark with interest, and she moves a step closer. "Did you find signs of any gnolls?" She doesn't mind the mild insult; she does, after all, tend to get muddled if numbers go much beyond her fingers and toes.
Nuveril's eyes spark with interest, and she moves a step closer. "Did you find signs of any gnolls?" She doesn't mind the mild insult; she does, after all, tend to get muddled if numbers go much beyond her fingers and toes.
"Not this evening - although they may have seen the fire and be coming this way any second. Kelmarane is not far away, the place is crawling with them," he answers.
Nuveril's eyes spark with interest, and she moves a step closer. "Did you find signs of any gnolls?" She doesn't mind the mild insult; she does, after all, tend to get muddled if numbers go much beyond her fingers and toes."Not this evening - although they may have seen the fire and be coming this way any second. Kelmarane is not far away, the place is crawling with them," he answers.
The halfling's face flushes with excitement at the thought of all those gnolls so near, and her fingers subconsciously grip her weapons. Then she remembers the task the group has to complete before she can reach that paradisaical slaughterfield, and a look of annoyance crosses her face. "You are suspected of burning the fortune teller in his wagon," she tells him bluntly. "I would expect a killer of gnolls to face his enemy openly with an honest weapon, not leaving the death blow to fire, but if it is so, be man enough to proclaim your deed aloud and defend yourself rather than wrapping yourself in lies and deception like a snivelling cur."
Then she remembers the task the group has to complete before she can reach that paradisaical slaughterfield, and a look of annoyance crosses her face. "You are suspected of burning the fortune teller in his wagon," she tells him bluntly. "I would expect a killer of gnolls to face his enemy openly with an honest weapon, not leaving the death blow to fire, but if it is so, be man enough to proclaim your deed aloud and defend yourself rather than wrapping yourself in lies and deception like a snivelling cur."
"Me? I didnt start any fire!" exclaims Dashki loudly. "I told you - I was out that way. Nowhere near the stupid fortuneteller. You clueless idiots! Why don't you 'proclaim your deed aloud'. Who knows who you are. You lot turn up and suddenly someone's burnt to death, now you can just decide that I'm responsible?"
The rest of the camp is looking over at Nuveril and Dashki as the unkempt man rants and shouts at the halfling. A few of the mercenaries exchange quiet comments amongst themselves, Hadrah looks on from her vantage point with big, wide eyes.
Then she remembers the task the group has to complete before she can reach that paradisaical slaughterfield, and a look of annoyance crosses her face. "You are suspected of burning the fortune teller in his wagon," she tells him bluntly. "I would expect a killer of gnolls to face his enemy openly with an honest weapon, not leaving the death blow to fire, but if it is so, be man enough to proclaim your deed aloud and defend yourself rather than wrapping yourself in lies and deception like a snivelling cur.""Me? I didnt start any fire!" exclaims Dashki loudly. "I told you - I was out that way. Nowhere near the stupid fortuneteller. You clueless idiots! Why don't you 'proclaim your deed aloud'. Who knows who you are. You lot turn up and suddenly someone's burnt to death, now you can just decide that I'm responsible?"
The rest of the camp is looking over at Nuveril and Dashki as the unkempt man rants and shouts at the halfling. A few of the mercenaries exchange quiet comments amongst themselves, Hadrah looks on from her vantage point with big, wide eyes.
Hearing the man shouting about his innocence Neskari looks up slightly annoyed before walking over to Losk. In a quiet whisper so that only Losk can hear, "I don't think the person who did this was an enemy of Eloiah. I think the person who did this is an enemy of Lady Almah and is trying to sabotage this expedition. I also suggest we prepare a proper burial for Eloiah. If we leave him where he is gnolls will no doubt desecrate his bones when they find them."
Raising his voice so that everyone can hear, "Is there a spare blanket in camp? I believe Lady Almah would want his body treated with respect and shown all due dignity as I'm sure she would for any of you. Therefore, I would like to remove him from the wagon and prepare him for burial."
Neskari will take the spare blanket and heading back to the wagon he will attempt to wrap the corpse up in it and set it aside from the wagon. He will then begin saying a prayer over the body and, when finished, will proceed to build a funeral pyre out of the remains of the wagon, well away from camp.
"Me? I didnt start any fire!" exclaims Dashki loudly. "I told you - I was out that way. Nowhere near the stupid fortuneteller. You clueless idiots! Why don't you 'proclaim your deed aloud'. Who knows who you are. You lot turn up and suddenly someone's burnt to death, now you can just decide that I'm responsible?"
The rest of the camp is looking over at Nuveril and Dashki as the unkempt man rants and shouts at the halfling. A few of the mercenaries exchange quiet comments amongst themselves, Hadrah looks on from her vantage point with big, wide eyes.
Nuveril flushes again, this time with anger. "I am no coward. I would gladly cut out the heart of any man here in honest battle, but only a weakling sets a fire and sneaks away. It dishonors both your enemy and yourself. They say as well that your loins burn for the mincing she-camel who has led you here by the nose. Do you deny your deed because you fear her displeasure? A killer of gnolls ought not to be weakened by the perfumes of a scented woman."
Nuveril flushes again, this time with anger. "I am no coward. I would gladly cut out the heart of any man here in honest battle, but only a weakling sets a fire and sneaks away. It dishonors both your enemy and yourself. They say as well that your loins burn for the mincing she-camel who has led you here by the nose. Do you deny your deed because you fear her displeasure? A killer of gnolls ought not to be weakened by the perfumes of a scented woman."
"You listen to me, you little runt!" yells Dashki, pointing his finger accusingly at the halfling as he stands over her. "I told you - I had nothing to do with it! If you had the brains of a rock you'd realise that I couldn't have lit a fire there when I was scouting over there." calming down slightly he shakes his head as the commotion causes Garavel to emerge from Almah's tent, looking over to see the source of the yelling.
"We're in gnoll country, right?" asks Dashki rhetorically. "That means Pugwampis. That fool Eloiah burned hundreds of candles in his wagon every night, that's a recipe for disaster when Pugwampis are around. I bet he tripped, fell and set fire to his wagon himself. That's what any intelligent person would think happened."
Raising his voice so that everyone can hear, "Is there a spare blanket in camp? I believe Lady Almah would want his body treated with respect and shown all due dignity as I'm sure she would for any of you. Therefore, I would like to remove him from the wagon and prepare him for burial."
Neskari will take the spare blanket and heading back to the wagon he will attempt to wrap the corpse up in it and set it aside from the wagon. He will then begin saying a prayer over the body and, when finished, will proceed to build a funeral pyre out of the remains of the wagon, well away from camp.
The mercenaries watch quietly for a moment as Neskari begins his preparations. Soon a couple of them come over to assist, helping him to wrap the fortune teller's body and carry it a short distance from the camp.
"We shouldnt set a funeral pyre," advises Dullen. "The valley is full of gnolls - no point advertising our presence, is there? We can help dig a grave for him."
The halfling blinks blankly up at the angry man. "What are Pugwampis? Can we kill them?"
Raising his voice so that everyone can hear, "Is there a spare blanket in camp? I believe Lady Almah would want his body treated with respect and shown all due dignity as I'm sure she would for any of you. Therefore, I would like to remove him from the wagon and prepare him for burial."
"Aye, a'gree. I can help you wi' that an give him the blessin of the Sun."
Losk, Neskari and several of the mercenaries take Eloiah's body a short distance from the camp and dig a grave for him. Although he doesnt help with the manual labour, Zastoran also comes over to pay his respects and to offer a prayer as the poor fortune teller is buried. Hadrod and Hadrah also attend the impromptu funeral, consoling each other quietly as the murmur about "..this terrible business."
The halfling blinks blankly up at the angry man. "What are Pugwampis? Can we kill them?"
"You can try,"grunts Dashki. "But watch that your sword doesnt get stuck in your scabbard, or that you dont trip over your boots...They're small, jackal headed rats and bad luck travels with them everywhere. They worship gnolls - follow them like a needy relative. I bet that's what it was. A Pugwampi stole into the camp and the candle-loving fool knocked one over, set fire to his wagon and probably tripped and knocked his head trying to put it out."
The halfling blinks blankly up at the angry man. "What are Pugwampis? Can we kill them?""You can try,"grunts Dashki. "But watch that your sword doesnt get stuck in your scabbard, or that you dont trip over your boots...They're small, jackal headed rats and bad luck travels with them everywhere. They worship gnolls - follow them like a needy relative. I bet that's what it was. A Pugwampi stole into the camp and the candle-loving fool knocked one over, set fire to his wagon and probably tripped and knocked his head trying to put it out."
"Bringers of ill fortune," Nuveril murmurs, then addresses Dashki directly. "It certainly makes more sense than to believe that a man of action would sink to such a cowardly act to settle his differences. I look forward to killing many gnolls with you." She folds her arm over her chest and bows her head in her tribe's gesture of farewell and retreats toward the fire. She sees the funeral rites taking place at the edge of camp but doesn't join them, instead crouching by the fire and awaiting the return of her companions.
Ato stays silent mostly. Helping wherever he can, as he is used to doing. But he says little. He was quite lacking in any investigative skills but he did what he could. Standing by the fire away from the same funeral rites he had seen far too many times, he nodded silently at the approaching Halfling.
Losk will take an evening walk before he turns in. On the way he will take in the burnt out ruin, once all inside will have cooled....
Perception: 1d20+4=22
Once the impromptu funeral is concluded, Losk and Neskari rejoin Ato and Nuveril beside the fire. At this point, Garavel emerges from Almah's tent and approaches your group, leading you a short distance from the rest of the camp to have a private word.
"Do you have anything to report?"he asks earnestly. "Lady Almah is keen to find whoever did this as soon as possible - we can't risk leaving a traitor in our midst. I have my suspicions as to who is responsible, but I wish to hear what you may have gleaned."
Once the impromptu funeral is concluded, Losk and Neskari rejoin Ato and Nuveril beside the fire. At this point, Garavel emerges from Almah's tent and approaches your group, leading you a short distance from the rest of the camp to have a private word.
"Do you have anything to report?"he asks earnestly. "Lady Almah is keen to find whoever did this as soon as possible - we can't risk leaving a traitor in our midst. I have my suspicions as to who is responsible, but I wish to hear what you may have gleaned."
"Well, 'twould seem the whole o' tha camp things tha' tha dirty little gnoll hunter did it. We haven'eh any proof though. Once it's cooled a bit, am gunna go have a look over that burn out wreck."
Nuveril shrugs. She cares very little about the fortune teller's death. "Dashki believes the fire may have been an accident. He claims the fortune teller made a custom of burning candles within his wagon and he may have knocked one over. He says there are small creatures in these lands called pug...pugwampis," she struggles a bit with the unknown word, "which carry ill fortune with them. It's too dark now to look for tracks, and the ground around the wagon has been too much trodden by those putting out the fire, but we may be able to find some evidence of such a creature coming into camp when the sun rises."
Garavel gives a short laugh to himself at the mention of Pugwampis, shaking his head slightly as he looks over at Dashki's tent. He ponders your words for a few moments, then nods his head decisively.
"Pugwampis...have any of you ever heard of them?...No, neither have I." he breaks off again, thinking before reaching a decision. "Very well, Lady Almah wants us to be thorough. It may be a wild goose chase, but I will ask you to scout around and see if you can discover any trace of these creatures. Ideally, I'd like one brought back to the camp. If there's no sign of them," he glances once more over at Dashki's tent. "Then we may have to fall back on more mundane explanations.
"I know it is dark," Garavel says addressing Nuveril. "Nonetheless, we need to know what is happening as soon as we can - it's always possible that the real cause of the fire is still living amongst us in the camp. I'd like you to begin the search immediately - we have plenty of torches. Scout the area around the camp and see if you can unearth any sign of these pugwampis. If we dont find anything, we can always look again in the morning."
"I know it is dark," Garavel says addressing Nuveril. "Nonetheless, we need to know what is happening as soon as we can - it's always possible that the real cause of the fire is still living amongst us in the camp. I'd like you to begin the search immediately - we have plenty of torches. Scout the area around the camp and see if you can unearth any sign of these pugwampis. If we dont find anything, we can always look again in the morning."
The halfling gives Garavel a short, hard glare before rising to her feet and retrieving a torch. She is muttering under her breath and only audible in brief phrases. "...searching by torchlight...Has he ever searched for anything in the dark but his lover's bed?...so simple to find traces of tiny creatures in the light, not to mention the dark!...probably tread all over their tracks in the dark and spoil them for the morning...." Still muttering, she moves toward the perimeter of the camp to search for tracks.
Losk will take an evening walk before he turns in. On the way he will take in the burnt out ruin, once all inside will have cooled....
Perception: 1d20+4=22