Bhaakon's Brinewall Legacy IC

[Bhaakon]

"No lies, no lies! Skitterfoot see himself, before mad-dog chase him away! Crazy goblin cast spells to calm animals, and eat other goblin!" He cringes at being called a liar, afraid of the the consequences if you won't believe him, and quickly changes the subject to the caverns. "Never go in caves. Many webs, and spiders bigger than Skitterfoot."

@Eirik

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You think he's telling the truth.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Did Old Megus have something in the caverns? Something of value?" Eirik asked, his calm voice hopefully telling Skitterfoot that the Ulfen didn't think him a liar - and therefore the little ratling was safe from getting whacked against a tree.

For now.

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Sense Motive... any more questions, guys? (1d20+5)[12]

[Bhaakon]

"No, no! Megus not go in caves. Many spiders. Big spiders." The ratling shudders at the thought, revealing its own fear of arachnids.

@Eirik

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Truth

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Very well", the Ulfen bard said. Hmm... I wonder if spider silk would make good samisen strings? he considered to himself. Ameiko would like that.

Still holding the ratling by its tail, Eirik sheathed his dagger and brought his other hand up, under Skitterfoot's legs so the little half-creature could stand on his palm. "Don't be afraid. You answered truthfully, so I'm not going to hurt you", the darkhaired man spoke calmly as he knelt down and released his hold on Skitterfoot's tail, allowing the ratling to step down on the ground. Still on his knee, the bard looked the creature in its eyes as he took up his purse. "Follow the trail south, out of the swamp. There you will find a much bigger trail, that follows the edge of the swamp west, where the sun sets. Follow that trail, the Lost Coast Road, and eventually you will come to a large city. Go there, and find yourself a master who treats you better than Old Megus did", he advised the little ratling, essentially giving him the advice on how to reach Magnimar, the nearest large settlement.

"And this", he added, pulling out a single gold piece from his purse, letting the recently-minted coin catch the afternoon sunlight. "I'll give you - for a promise. That Skitterfoot never again comes to this swamp or near Sandpoint. Will Skitterfoot promise that?"

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Throwing in a bit of Diplomacy in the end, to make sure Skitterfoot will not come back to exact his revenge. (1d20+9)[24]

[Bhaakon]

Skitterfoot's bead eyes almost pop out of his head as you hand him the shiny new coin. "Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Skitterfoot go an not come back," he murmurs, as he greedily seizes the coin and sets to work polishing it against his ratty pelt.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka watches the antics with something approaching amusement on his face. "What a frightfully simple creature. I almost regret the way we have treated it...though, I imagine its simplicity explain a good deal of its capacity for evil..." A creature whose cruelty came as naturally as breathing was irredeemably evil, in his opinion but as the elf had said the matter of the ratling's life was firmly in the hands of the Ulfen who saved it. Kneeling down, the ninja wipes his wakizashi clean of blood while off-handedly responding to Skitterfoot's sad attempt at self-preservation. "We, or rather I, will not hesitate to slay you if you are to ever set foot in Sandpoint, beast. You would do well to remember that. Because no matter the deal you have struck with Eirik, if you present yourself as a danger to my home there will be no remorse."

At the mention of further exploration, Kasuka nods his head resolutely. "I am ready to venture forth as soon as we are all able." Despite his words, the young man is obviously breathing quite heavily.

[stack]

Lethos

The elf looks over the group after skitterfoot departs. "I fear we are not in the proper condition to face this witch should she prove...uncommunicative. I suggest we either make camp here or look for a suitably dry place part way in between. It has been an eventful day, we ought bind our wounds and rest to face the morrow better."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

"That went well after all."

Says Caleban, his axe clean now. He gazes at the sky, almost by reflex.

"It is afternoon now, so there is no reason to push on more than needed. We could try visit the witch and hope it goes better this time, but I see why it would be better to be prepared.

So. Making camp here?"

[Thattaman]

Theodric sits down on the nearest tree trunk and sighs with relief at being able to sit down, "I'd have no objections to resting now before the sun goes down completely. I'll take first watch if no one has any objections." He gets his greatsword off his back and begins to sharpen it and admire the steel.

[Bhaakon]

Finally free, Skitterfoot clenches his coin between his teeth and flees down the path as fast as his rodent frame allows.

Exhausted by the march and battle, you set about turning the dead witch's clearing into a camp. The rubble of her home provides a ready supply for fire wood, with the damp, punky lumber billowing out a cloud of smoke that drives away most of the biting insects.

You take turns watching the treeline and trail for signs of attack, but the night passes uneventfully. It's not exactly a night in Rusty Dragon's finest suite, but hurts are lessened and your minds clearer as the day breaks.

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Default healing is 1 HP per level for a night's rest.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Eirik had watched Skitterfoot scurry away with his new treasure, even as the others began to set up camp. He was dirty, he was wounded, and his wordly possessions had been diminished once more.

Yet, he felt a strange sense of elation as the ratling disappeared into the undergrowth. He had acted according to tradition, without diminishing or silencing his own inner voice. The voice that his brother had mocked so viciously when their father was dead. You are no true Ulfen, Amlaff had told him, spitting on his feet as the older brother had sat down on their father's seat of honor.

He would mock even now, Eirik admitted to himself. But he himself knew better: no true Ulfen would kill a prisoner, and a prisoner released was entitled to recompenses if wounded in captivity. Skitterfoot had been prisoner, and he had been forceful in interrogating the ratling. He had, in his mind, done justice to his forebears and to the clan.

He's wrong. I am still Ulfen.

And that idea encouraged him.

With that, Eirik had returned to helping set up camp with his comrades. He was woefully unprepared for sleeping under canvas, but what he lacked in supplies, he made up in spirit. Once the camp was set, he was more than willing to take responsibility for taking the second watch after Theodric. And when evening began to fall, he broke out his harp and began to sing, hoping that the soft music and the hymns of the Song of the Spheres would soothe spirits if not physical wounds. And if requested, he would bring out the more earthly songs and ditties to bring out laughter in his comrades.

Come morning, Eirik was not surprisingly a late sleeper, snoring lightly inside his bedroll.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban has a crooked smile om his face, as they set camp. They had not gone very far, but he is on the road again. He makes himself at home, unfolding his chair, smoking his cigar and eating with a healthy appetite. He notices that Eirik seems a bit preoccupied and so talks generally over the fire with his companions. He eagerly takes the worst watch, the third, which he spends with his blanket over him, gazing at the stars and smoking another cigar.

Ah, the stars! So much beauty in the sky, every night, so much promise, so much fate! Thank you, Desna, for this day!

The next day, he is up early, his percolator whistling merrily for his coffee. Not unkindly, he leaves a cup just below Eirik 's nose. Just beside it, he leaves some of tobacco. He whispers to the others

"That should wake our little peacock. Otherwise, it is a cup of water over the face"

[stack]

Lethos takes the darkest watch, untroubled by the blackness surrounding them so far from civilization. Any you watched would see him sitting cross-legged, his sword drawn across his lap, his lips moving silently.

Dawn finds him deep in his spellbook, readying himself for the day.

He speaks without looking up. "A cup of water would be a bracing start, I should think."

[Thattaman]

Theodric also wakes early and admires the sky, a beautiful sunrise is surely a good sign, a red sky for the colour of goblin blood. He counts his arrows again. 98 in total, enough for 196 goblin ears and 1,960 gp. That put a smile on his face, what would Shalelu say if he came home with that many ears? And he could buy Sandru that new whisky he'd been wanting. And maybe Ameiko would consider selling the Rusty Dragon to go adventuring with them again. His smile was even bigger then. "I'm betting the water is what he's getting, not waking for Erik."

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka frowns deeply and stares at the ground in consternation as though he is fighting an internal battle before looking away and nodding grimly. It was not was though he was too injured to go on. Besides the bite wounds he was in prime fighting condi- The surge of pain running up his leg says otherwise.

----
Bleary-eyed and grimy, Kasuka rises from his slumber in time to appreciate the rising sun. Kneeling at his bedroll, he rubs at the bite wounds inflicted the day previous, annoyed that they had not yet healed. Looking around to see if the others are not watching, he surreptitiously binds them in an obscuring cloth before pulling his pants legs down over them.

[Bhaakon]

When Eirik finally awakes, it's to a blinding headache and painfully swollen joints. His face is flushed and sweaty, and anyone feeling his head detects a low grade fever. Between the dozens of filthy rat bites, tromping through the fetid swamp, and exploring Old Megus's grimy shack, he's clearly picked up an infection of some sort.

@Eirik

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DC 12 Fort save or

(1d3)[1] Con damage
(1d3)[1] Dex damage

[stack]

Lethos finally closes the book, stowing it carefully in his pack. Standing, he takes stock of the others injuries. Minor, mostly, my own included. That happens when fighting in a swarm of rats. The pale youth may be hiding a worse injury, however, that ought be dealt with before proceeding. The loud one appears ill, a poor sign.

"Ulfen, you are not well. Can you continue?"

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

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Fort save (1d20+1)[19]

Well what do you know... that actually worked

Waking up, Eirik did indeed feel like crap. He ached in places he didn't know could ache in the first place, and he felt like someone had tied lead bands to his wrists.

"Gods, this is why I hate sleeping under canvas", he muttered as he picked up the steaming cup of coffee and started sipping on it. "Ugh... no worries, friend Lethos. I think... I think I'll be okay, once I get some coffee crawling down my guts. And I wouldn't say no to some bacon. Do we have any bacon? For the love of Desna, please tell me we have some bacon."

Maybe it was the coffee, or maybe the infection had already peaked during the wee hours of the night, but the young bard did start to look a little better by the time he finished his coffee and asked for a refill - even if that meant he was also his talkative and even annoying self again.

"If anything, I'm worried about this", he said as he pulled his collar back a bit. He had managed to staunch the bleeding in the evening, but the place where one of the biggest rats had managed to bite him was still raw and swollen, the bandages at the base of his neck still dark red with blood. "I... I know I'm not much of a frontline fighter", he said, trying not to think of Amlaff's sneering face. "and I know we're strapped for healing magic... but I would like to use a touch of my magic on myself. But only if no one else needs it. Those rats were a literal pain in the ass... among other places."

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban has a look frowning worry over Eiric, but he seems to recover quick enough.

"I bet this disease is female, you peacock. This is why it was attracted to you. And this is why it has left you next morning.

But yes, go ahead and mend yourself. I will go over and help Kasuka over there."

Matching words with action, the big half orc marches to Kasuka.

"Need a hand, neighbor?"

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If the answer is affirmative CLW for (1d8+1)[5]

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Well now. Someone's in a chipper mood this morning", Eirik chuckled at Caleban's quips. "What's the matter, Cal? Forgot your chewing toy back at the Rusty Dragon? Or do you still have a rat in your pants, nibbling on that stick up your arse?" he quipped back, even as he began to cast a healing spell.

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Casting cure light wounds on self, (1d8+1)[7]

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

"Well, if your tongue works, you are OK. And you said you would buy me a chewing toy, with the accompanying dog, when you lost that bet last month. Still waiting on that."

Caleban continues to break camp as he riposts, his cigar smacking in his lips.

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

"Like that was even a fair bet. You knew that elf was a cross-dresser, and yet you still goaded me to have a go at her... him", Eirik huffed, rolling his eyes as he rolled up his blanket. "But since we're on the subject of lost bets... You still owe me a new cloak from Rhyshinn's after the bet before that. I'm still waiting, you know. Performing the Saga of Saebjorn demands a certain level of... gravitas, if you will."

[stack]

Lethos breaks camp in silence, trying to ignore the incessant banter. I should have kept the rat around for some intelligent conversation.

[Bhaakon]

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I'm going off the IC conversation here, to move things along

Despite the inch of collected rainwater in Megus's rowboat, you find the hull to be sound. The five of you push it back into the water with little effort and pile in. It's a tight fit, and the water comes within a hand's breadth of pour over the gunwales, but you all manage to clamber in without sinking.

The water is still as you cut through the thick tulle fog hanging low on the delta. It's easy to get lost if you went any great distance, but route isn't complicate with a good map to follow: just keep the shore to your right and land after the third inlet. After about thirty minutes of stiff rowing, you ground the boat and secure it a few hundred paces from where the wreck is marked on the map.

Fighting your way through the bush proves much more difficult, though the trip is shorter as the crow flies. It takes a solid two hours of trudging through bogs and hacking through underbrush before you break out into a clearing with the remains of the wreck.

The lingering stink of smoke lies thick in the air, suggesting that fire which gutted the burned-out hulk was relatively recent. All that's left is a large mound of coals and the blackened nubs of two masts, a keel, and a few ribs. The whole thing is surrounded by a rough timber fence, probably meant to keep the horse corralled, when it lived. Now the sad animal is just a bloated hide stuffed with wriggling maggots.

[Bad Situation]

Kasuka steps out into the clearing, gratefully flicking his feet out in order to rid himself of the marsh's natural slime. As was quickly becoming custom, he draws his wakizashi* and creeps closely toward the remains of the vessel so as not to disturb whatever might possibly be lying in wait. He'd learned the hard lesson of kicking up activity back at the Megus' shack. Even now he could feel the miserable bite wounds festering at his shins. He looks up at the rotting hull of the ship with a curious glint to his eye. "A boat...but what is it doing here in the marsh?" Sparing a glance back to the others, he blinks and resumes his cautious approach. Hopefully they would remain quiet as he made his approach.

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* - Not sure if we doled out the loot from earlier. If he's given the dagger, Kasuka will use it without question considering its balance and clearly superior make. Otherwise, he isn't really the sort to ask about weapons and the like.
Stealth: (1d20+10)[27]
Perception: (1d20+3)[9]

[Bhaakon]

Kasuka flits between the copious cover provided by the swamp, confident that nothing can see him. He silently makes a circuit of the charred bones of the wreck, but finds no threat. He's about to retreat back to the group when his foot catches on something hard sticking out of the cold coals near the bow: a ship's bell. He surreptitiously scoops it up and hauls it back to the others.

Brushing the ash from the bell reveals a handful of intricate, angular Minkaian characters followed by the bold Taldan block printing you're more used to. Both read the same: Kaijitsu Star.

[ProudGrognard]

Caleban

Caleban watches the fleet footed figure walk in the march like a ghost. A small whistle of appreciation escapes his lips. But he holds his comments, not to alert anyone. He takes a hard look for anything out of the ordinary while waiting.

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Perception take 20 for 27

When Kasuke comes back, Caleban frowns.

"What is that? Kaijitsi star? When did Ameiko have a boat? But no, this is way too old."

[North_Ranger]

Eirik Evensong

Following his fellow Desnan's approach, even Eirik kept his tongue in check as they waited for Kasuka to return. Not wanting to be caught with his pants down - proverbially, and hopefully not literally - he nonetheless pulled out his shortbow, in case something did show up.

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Take 20 on Perception for 25. If not possible, roll with it (1d20+5)[17]

When Kasuka returned, the young Ulfen frowned when he read the inscription on the bell. "Huh. The Kaijitsu Star... I could swear I have heard that name before..."

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Bardic knowledge! (1d20+2)[16] (add +4 if it's Knowledge (History)).

[Bhaakon]

@Eirik

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The name does shake something lose from your voluminous memory, a story told in the Dragon one night while you were half listening and fully intoxicated. Longiku Kaijitsu, Ameiko's late father, was the sole survivor of maritime disaster, when a freak storm sunk the modest Kaijitsu merchant fleet--this hulk included. The family has since recovered a large portion of its fortunes, but old Lonjiku never put out to sea, or invested in ships, again.

Eirik and Caleban take their time searching the clearing, but there's not much more to find. A small collection of junk and bones (many of them goblin, none of them fresh) litter the fenced-in "corral," but nothing valuable or dangerous. There's a well-worn path leading to the nearest branch of the Soggy river-- the closest source of fresh water--and a far narrower trail heading off in the direction of the goblin village. Something heavy has been dragged along this second path since the last rain, plowing a wide furrow in the loamy earth and breaking off woody sprouts and branches.

[stack]

Horse dead, something heavy taken... "It would seem the village goblins have already been here. It seems unlikely that the wtch would have killed and left her horse in that state, though who could say for certain, but the trail back to their village...Whatever it was they had is certainly our concern now."

"The bounty notice mentioned explosives. The ship traded in Tian. I know what they took. We should hurry." His blade is in hand, pointing down the path to the village.