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Mika spends a few moments examining the potions before realizing that they are simple healing infusions.
2 potions of CLW. You picked up some other ID-able loot in the battle, if you want to try those as well.
The Sheriff is easy to find: you spot her heading for the docks as you are disembarking. She strides toward you with purpose, grabbing each of your hands in a firm shake once you meet. "Really, me and the town can't thank you enough fer what you did last night. There's not much of a council or anything to drum up a proper reward, but I managed to scrounge together a few things you might find useful. These here were my best manacles--had 'em enchanted to pacify the rowdier drunks--and these potions should be of use if you cross those serf... snob... er, gnome things again."
Jon graciously accepts the gifts. "We could not stand by under such a threat. I presume you would be making a sweep of the mines as part of the investigation?"
If so, two birds, one stone. Still rather not be entirely open about our original purpose here.
"I hope that we can ensure this attack will not be repeated. We'll see you when we get back." Jon nods and takes his leave, heading to the coral to mount-up.
Not been in the saddle in a bit. Going to be sore tonight.
You make your way to the corral, passing dozens of people busy cleaning up, pack up, or rebuilding. About half of the tent town was burned or otherwise destroyed in the battle, but they've been replaced by new camps thrown up by people fleeing the outlying claims for the safety of the town. You can't help but hear the gossip floating about last night: tales of an overzealous miner disturbing some forgotten necropolis, the curse of a conclave of skraeling medicine men, news that the lord governor in Anchor's End had alternately dispatched half the guard or decided to leave the town to fend for itself, and a hundred other suspect rumors.
When you finally arrive, there are five horses and one very impatient-looking man in the corral. "You're the ones, eh? Finally. Should have left at sun-up, but the Sheriff's stubborn as an rheumy mule. Looks like one of you will have to stay behind; horses are dear in the best of times, and half the mounts in town were stolen, killed, or ran off in the night."
Tyr's not coming, to be clear. Starbuck up and disappeared, and I'm tired of NPCing him.
Jon shakes his head softly at the man's remark. "We had a rough night."
He approaches the horse warily, but climbs into the saddle readily enough. Spent more time on ships than horses. This could get interesting. Have to dismount to actually fight.
"Tyr, you still look frayed from yesterday. Perhaps you ought stay with the beasts. We'll fill you in when we get back." He rests his blunderbuss across his lap, taking the reins in one hand. He turns the mount to the road. "Shall we proceed?"
"Eh, which way do you step onto these things?" Huril said, scratching his chin as he looked at the horse. "Guess it goes kinda like this then?" He continued to mutter to himself as he slowly got into the saddle.
Mika softly pets the horse. Can...Can I cast while I am on you. Yes, but it will not be easy. Hopefully, I won't have to do so while I'm riding you. Mika slowly gets into the saddle. She turns towards Tyr "We will be back as soon as we can. I wish you well while we are gone."
The deputy struggles unsuccessfully to keep a straight face as some of the less experienced group members get a feel for the saddle. To his credit, he manages to avoid laughing aloud.
Once you're all situated, he leads you to the wide swath of dragging footsteps and broken foliage marking the passage of the deep gnomes and their horde of undead. Though the trail cuts through the bush at first, but then joins one of the trails leading up into the mountains. Up ahead a rude timber bridge spans a narrow ravine. Something is wrong, though. There's debris on the bridge, one side is charred, and you see a scrap of blue cloth fluttering in the wind.
Jon looks at the bridge. Rather than apprehension or concern, he feels only a sense of weary disappointment. I hoped we could at least get to the mine before trouble started.
"Let's spread out, have a look around. Rather not get caught in an ambush on that thing." He dismounts, then drops his blunderbuss to its harness and draws his revolver. Scatter shot won't do much if they are across the river, which seems likely.
As he inches forward, Jon's sharp eyes detect the wreck of a wagon at the bottom of the ravine: a mess of shattered wood and bloating mule corpses. The flapping cloth proves to be a blue cloak attached to a body doubled over one of the bridge's supporting timbers about ten feet down. What Jon can't see is an obvious enemy presence.
"Wagon at the bottom, looks like it was going over the bridge. Which means that something isn't right here. The gnome-things seemed to like magic..." He stoops to pick up a handful of small stones and scatters them over the bridge.
The changes as you continue to scan the area, carrying with it a thin groan from the direction of the bridge. You can't tell whether it's the timber settling or an injured survivor, nor do you see any sign of danger.
Mika gets as close as she dares, at the very edge of her of her magically enhanced vision, but the only sign of active enchantment she sees is a faint transmutation aura coming from something on the body in the bridge's structure, but she can't get a clear look at it.
The cliff offers a sheer stone drop of forty feet, a difficult but hardly impossible climb. The superstructure of the timber bridge, however, offers more--and more secure--holds.
As Huril peers down, he notices that something has been gnawing on the remains of the pack animals down in the ravine. The mules are in a sorry state from the fall, but some of the missing limbs look more like works of expert butchery than mere gravity.
"Sigh, wish I could fly. There is some sort of transmutation aura down there. I can't tell if it is a magical item or if it is a trap or something has been transformed. If anyone goes down then you have to be careful."
Tyr spent a few minutes or so resting. Maybe he had come down with something, but he was feeling better quickly.
Tyr needed to catch up with the gang, but how?
He knew this would end badly but he asked a man to borrow his mule. Wouldn't be as comfortable as a horse, but he knew it would be stubborn enough to not give up just like him.
Though with little tracking skills the group made a mess riding and he was able to follow their paths with some difficulty. While on a mountain trail,Tyr saw a bridge sat a distance then after a while horses and his allies talking: he was on the right track.
Tyr slowly rode near them and then quietly asked, "Why are y'all searching a charred area?"
The climb down to the dwarf--as the body proves to be--goes easily enough. He's bruised and battered, but breathing shallowly. The only life threatening wounds you see are a pair of stab wounds in his shoulder.
Know (nature) DC 15 of Heal DC 15 (Jon only)
Those stab wounds weren't made by blade, but something curved and circular. Almost certainly fangs.