The last thing I would want to see are Spawn of Tiamat skulking around these woods..." He blows out a measured breath, shaking his head solemnly.
I don't like the sound of those spawn o' tea-whatevers. We should move. Soon.
Greis nods gravely. "Maybe it's best. If it hasn't awoken by now, it's likely in a bad way. There is also the practical matter that we cannot allow the creature to inform its masters. I say we continue our search for the architect. We need him if we are to have any chance to unlock the secrets of the manor alive."
He picks a small twig from the ground and breaks it apart cumpulsively. He turns away from the hurt kobald. "I think Anarath should be the one to do it. Then we move on." He drops the stick and quickly shoulders his pack and weapons--wincing under the pain but quickly steadying himself. He moves a few steps away, not looking back.
Dohrlok is disturbed by the sudden outbreak of levity.
Anarath looks around in confusion. He had zoned out of the conversation for a moment, and somehoe now everything seemed strange...
"So we're killing the thing?" he asks, looking curiously at the still unconsious kobold. "Certainly," he mutters to himself. "He who deals with death should deal death. I can see the logic."
He looks around to make sure his companions have not changed their minds, and then shakes the kobold roughly one last time. "Your last chance little one," he says softly in Draconic. "One chance to deal. or I'm afraid we shall need to leave you for dead." As he speaks, he draws his dagger from its sheath and looks at it sadly. He begins to mutter a prayer to Wee Jas.
Seeing that the kobold is not going to awakan, Anarath quickly slits its throat, aiming to do so as quickly as possible, so the creature will feel no pain.
"May Wee Jas guide your soul," he whispers. "And in your afterlife, may those you ambush not fight back so well."
The creature falls dead. Anarath stands, wipes his blade clean and strides away from the empty shell to where he had left his pack. Shouldering it quickly, he pushes roughly past his companions and begins striding down the path towards the Manor. Midnight takes flight and flaps slowly after him, singing a dirge in Draconic.
The path before wends its way through the forest, towards the East. It is a pleasant day, warm sunny with blue sky and the sound of birds filling the air.
Hears the sound of the knife going in and tenses. It was different when the creatures posed them a direct and deadly threat. Killing them when they were helpless made him feel sick inside. He'd felt sick from the moment he'd asked the necromancer to do it--but better that it were he, someone who would have some compassion and make the passing as quick and painless as it could be than some swaggering sellsword who would do it laughing. His head swum and he didn't want to think about it anymore.
"We are best off following the roads. The kobold mentioned that the architect patrolled them and would often beset them from ambush. The more likely it is that he sees us, the more likely it is we may speak with him. Their may also be signs of his passing if we are lucky. Do any of you know how to track? If so then I suggest we search out those places where he has been spending his nights out here. He must sleep somewhere after all..."
Seeing that the kobold is not going to awakan, Anarath quickly slits its throat, aiming to do so as quickly as possible, so the creature will feel no pain.
"May Wee Jas guide your soul," he whispers. "And in your afterlife, may those you ambush not fight back so well."
The creature falls dead. Anarath stands, wipes his blade clean and strides away from the empty shell to where he had left his pack. Shouldering it quickly, he pushes roughly past his companions and begins striding down the path towards the Manor. Midnight takes flight and flaps slowly after him, singing a dirge in Draconic.
"Serves the little rat right. I hate those little... (incoherent mumbling)"
Corvin pauses to look down his nose at the corpse of the kobold, then turns to Greis.
"We should start lookin' around, see if we can find that crazy old coot the kobold was talkin' about."
Waiting for a moment for the others to catch up, Anarath turns his face to the sky and takes a moment to luxeriate in the sunlight.
Once the others are caught up again, he strides off at a quick pace, still not speaking, but he nods at Corvin's words.
Although the wizard has little skill at tracking, he watches the road and the vegetation beside it carefully for signs of other passage, his senses somehow sharpened by the recent act of sacrifice.
Waiting for a moment for the others to catch up, Anarath turns his face to the sky and takes a moment to luxeriate in the sunlight.
Once the others are caught up again, he strides off at a quick pace, still not speaking, but he nods at Corvin's words.
Although the wizard has little skill at tracking, he watches the road and the vegetation beside it carefully for signs of other passage, his senses somehow sharpened by the recent act of sacrifice.
Corvin has been slouching along the roadside, still trying to figure out why Anarath reacted so strongly to his actions with the kobold.
Because of his preoccupation, he is not as thorough in looking for clues as he normally would.
Yes, lets move on.
Anarath; you find no sign of Segwin but you can see the small footprints from the kobolds who ambushed you leading further down the path.
Anarath stops briefly, and points out the footprints to his companions - they appear to have come from the direction of the Manor.
He then pauses, tilts his head to the side, then cups his hands around his mouth and calls out "Segwin!" in an unusually loud voice for a softly spoken elf. His shout echoes through the suddenly quiet woods.
The echoes die away and there is no response except for the sudden silence of the birds.
Anarath turns around to look at his companions as the echoes die away. “Well,” he says slowly, a lobsided grin on starting to come to his face, “One never knows till one tries, correct?”
He then turns and continues up the path, but his pace is a little slower now, allowing the rest of the adventuring group to draw level or ahead of him if they wish.
Dohrlok follows, keeping an eye open for any danger.
I kind of figured it out after those few posts. If it absolutely HAS to be said, spell it as s-m-u-r-p-h.
Flinches, more from the unexpectedness of the noise from Anarath, than from any fear that it would call unnecessary attention to them.
"Well he's supposed to haunt the road. It's not pleasant, but I suppose our best chance of discovering him is to follow along the road looking well--adverturely. Hopefully he will see us and initiate contact. I imagine his passage won't be obvious to untrained eyes or the kobolds would have discovered him by now. Oh and we should be on the watch for more attacks, probably bigger bands and better equipt--we did after all kill one of their patrols." He turns, readjusts his gear and begins the long directionless saunter down the trail hoping to catch the attention of Segwin. If his eyes are open to ambush groups of kobolds they should likewise be open to a group of obvious adventurers...
Corvin trudges off behind Greis, mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like "...gets killed...not...paid...".
"Adventurely..." Anarath mumbles absently. Still keeping a close eye on the road ahead he then turns to Greis. "You've been closest to the Manor of us all. I have assumed we will reach it today - what do you think? Perhaps you can let us know when we draw close, it may be an idea to send one or two of us on ahead to scout the area... I would not wish to stumble into an ambush set up by this kobold king."
He glances around at the rest of the party. "What say the rest of you? Do we have any scouts amongst us?" His eyes flick back and forward between Corvin and Dohrlok.
"Hey, don't look at me. I just kill things for money. Scoutin's all yours, pebble-man."
Corvin nods in the direction of the dwarven monk, as if this could get Dohrlok's attention.
Stops for a moment and looks to Anarath. "Actually if I read the terrain right, we're not headed toward the Manor per se."
He turns again and continues to speak as he walks, doing both in a slow measured way, "For now we're out looking for the architect to find us--since it would appear to be futile looking for him. You are right though, heading back toward the Manor would surely find us falling into a variety of nasty traps--not that there is any guarantee that there won't be trouble out this way either."
"We're bound to have kobolds at our heels until we find some way to ellude them or until we kill them all. Not much to be done about that. The hope, as you put it back in town, is to find this Segwin so we can gain 'some edge over previous explorers'. While I certainly have done my share of poking around while I've been here, and while I certainly think we could head straight in, I still think our chances of success are best if we can first obtain the plans to the structure. Perhaps then we can find some less direct means of getting past the kobold sentries and whatever other dangers await."
"Well, whatever floats your boat, boss-man..."
Anarath nods. "I certainly agree Greis." He pauses, tilts his head. "Yes, I said we need an edge, and I still believe that. But I don't think we should wander through these woods indefinately either, attracting kobolds and worse no doubt."
He looks up at the sun, rising steadily in the clear blue sky. "Let's give it till tomorrow morning. If another night passes and we have seen no sign of our architect, I say we head straight to the Manor."
"Agreed." he replies, not breaking stride "Not to mention the embarrassment of it. I would prefer not to spend overmuch time just wandering aimlessly down backcountry roads like the village idiot." He blanches unpleasantly at the thought. "Another day will prove to my satisfaction one way or the other. Either we'll find this man by then or we won't."
Anarath lets out an uncharacteristic chuckle. “Yes, I think we made an excellent enough impression on the good folk of Greenhollow without straggling back into the village to buy more rations – without ever having set sight on the Manor house.”
Dohrlok shrugs. While he wouldn't really care about the embarrassment of returning to the village, he would prefer to find something worthwhile in this forest other than the odd skirmish with kobold raiders (though a few less kobolds in this world is not a problem). Truth be told, he finds the woodland scenery slightly oppressive, and would prefer to be either in the mountains of his home, or maybe in the dungeons of the manor.
He also notes that Corvin has recovered his poise and returned to his usual, mildly unpleasant self. This is something of a relief - Corvin is an effective fighter and the party would be better off with him being undistracted by inner turmoil. Perhaps Dohrlok will suggest some more meditation techniques to him at a later stage.
Dohrlok adjusts the straps of his backpack and trudges after the rest of the party.
You walk forward through the unchanging landscape of the thick forest. You have been walking for several hours when you come to a small clearing with a stream running through it and a waterfall that pours down from a large outcropping of rocks. There are at least a dozen small slabs of stone standing straight up along one side of the clearing. The clearing is still, there is no breeze and there doesn't seem to be any wildlife nearby. It is about midday and now that you have left the shade of the trees it is rapidly becoming uncomfortably warm in the still air. The whole place seems slightly oppressive.
"Well doesn't this place just scream I am not supose to be here." Pulls out his morning star and grips his shield a little tighter.
Dohrlok looks around, but sees no obvious danger..
"This place gives me an uncomfortableness," says Corvin, who puts up his dukes as if to defend agaist an unseen enemy, more to make himself feel secure than anything else.
Anarath feels the oppressiveness of this place as much as his fellows – a faint shiver runs up his spine – but he puts on a display of nonchalance.
“Interesting,” he murmers, glancing around. “There’s something familiar looking about those stones…” He raises his voice. “Well, this seems as good a place as any to rest for our midday repast.”
Taking off his coat and pulling his hat lower over his eyes to shade from the bright sunlight, Anarath begins walking towards the stones at the other side of the clearing, watching for anything untoward.
Anarath feels the oppressiveness of this place as much as his fellows – a faint shiver runs up his spine – but he puts on a display of nonchalance.
“Interesting,” he murmers, glancing around. “There’s something familiar looking about those stones…” He raises his voice. “Well, this seems as good a place as any to rest for our midday repast.”
Corvin, missing any hint of unease from Anarath, whips around and says, mincing no words, " Are you nuts? Must I say again, that this place gives me an uncomfortableness. And I ain't sittin' around eatin' lunch in anywhere that gives me the shivvers."
Anarath turns slowly around. “Why Corvin,” he says, feigning surprise. “A strong, hearty warrior such as yourself nervous of an empty clearing? I’m shocked.”
He puts his hands on his hips and looks around again. “I’ll tell you what. We’ll thoroughly search the place for any hidden nasties, and if it all seems clear we’ll linger for a while and enjoy the sunlight. Surely you can see the strategic sense in resting in an open area where we can see any dangers coming at us, rather than possibly lurking behind the next tree?”
He turns back and continues making his way towards the stones. “Coming fellows?” he asks.
"...problem is, I can only hit what I can see. If I can't see it, it could sneak up on me..."
"Then let us see what we can see..."
"Well, I think your logic just killed my logic," Corvin says as he begins to scan the area.
"Yes, I know," Anarath murmers quietly.
While Corvin keeps watch, the necromancer approaches the stones.
Corvin; You see what looks like a small cave concealed behind the waterfall. It looks as if someone goes there regularly.
"HEY! YOU GUYS! I think I found summat' behind the waterfall. It's lookin' like a cave. And it's also lookin' like somebody lives in said cave."
Anarath looks up from his investigation of the stones at Corvin's call. The man has a sharper eye than the elf had given him credit for.
Not himself unnerved, but wary because of how obviously destraught the adventurer he hired is acting--who's job is to be nervous for him really.
He drops toward the middle of the group as they make their way into the clearing. The standing stones are interesting--certainly a sign of someone around--someone or a group with enough strength and desire to heft all those rocks into position at the very least, and that's something.
"Might I suggest we tread carefully anywhere around the water..." a slight tinge of fear to his voice "I've heard a great deal of stories about the things that dwell in pleasant looking springs in clearings just like thisone--all sorts of fey creatures and the like that lurk within refreshing-looking pools waiting to pull in unwary souls for the sheer pleasure of drowning them."
He sets down his pack and undoes a few buttons on his outer travelling gear to let the breeze in, but doesn't stop talking "Particularly watch out for attractive young women. Steer clear of any creepy attractive young women. That's always how it goes..."
"I should think creepy attractive young women will be right up Corvin's alley," Anarath mutters as Greis' voice wafts across the clearing. "After all, he dealt with the enchanted tavern girls in the village handily enough."
His musings are interrupted just then by Corvin's cry.
To notice anything about the stones you will have to make a Search check.