"In regards to payment for Bjornak, I believe we have already uncovered a suitable gift. The Green Man barrow mound contains a weirwood root cave. Certainly a rare material in itself. There is also an unexplored mound just to the east of the Potter's mound we can explore while we're there. Sounds like a bee hive is within, and with Mr. Hake's smoker shouldn't be too difficult to harvest some royal honey. It's haunted by an apparition, though."
Hake looks up at the mention of his name. "Oh, we'll need the smoker again? Then I should pick up some better pieces for it. It was rather a bodge-job to begin with and hard usage didn't do it any favors. More new supplies to pick up before we leave".
Dalin thinks on that news "Hmm are you sure Brother Clive is not interested in it? I know that is not exactly going to help with paying Bjornak I just owe being here to Clive and his Ranger friend. Granted I did have to save them as well but they helped me. I know Clive is more invested in bees and honey than Bjornak appears to be, he uh has more interests in were things. But it is worth a shot."
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred "If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
Algrim Tirion Dwarf - HarnMaser Dalin Silverhand Dwarf Thief - Barrowmaze Elwood 'Dug' The Bounty Hunter Dwarf Swashbuckler - Hedge's Adventures in the World of Golarion Roan Gravelbeard Dwarf Fighter - Hedge's Greyhawk Adventures Torvik Shadowhood Dwarf Fighter/Thief - Nocturne
In the tavern after a visit to the Old Manse and Chapel, so probably evening time. (July 10th).
If anyone is around I will share with them regarding the Wight attack, driving the Undead Buffaloes to stampede the nearby Herne shrine and see who may be interested in joining a mission to root out the Nergal faction behind it.
Specifically looking for other clerics and rogue types who can turn undead and infiltrate Citadel 'underworld' secret societies.
Jorly returns from the woods after more days than he can count - or more appropriately - can remember. He sighs. Empty wine skins left back at his 'camp' a foggy memory. The headache, though, remains.
He enters the Strumpet with less grace than he would like, but, well, so be it. His mind is of replenishing his stock but can't help but notice his friends huddled around what must be a new plan. Sigh. He looks to the bar and thinks, hesitantly, 'until later then..."
He shuffles over towards the tables with a deep breath to clear his head and sits down with the others hoping they don't happen to notice his self inflicted condition. Or the smell.
Sounds like Bjornak for the info then off to the land of fey to obtain what is needed to cure this malaise we've found.
Dalin nods his head in agreement with Raven and Smiles at Moriartus "It will be nice working with you again Moriartus. So how long before we set out?"
“All men did have darkness. Some wore it in the form of horns. Some bore it invisibly as rot in their souls.”
― Paul S. Kemp, Shadowbred "If good people won’t do the hard things, evil people will always win, because evil people will do anything."
― Paul S. Kemp, Twilight Falling
Algrim Tirion Dwarf - HarnMaser Dalin Silverhand Dwarf Thief - Barrowmaze Elwood 'Dug' The Bounty Hunter Dwarf Swashbuckler - Hedge's Adventures in the World of Golarion Roan Gravelbeard Dwarf Fighter - Hedge's Greyhawk Adventures Torvik Shadowhood Dwarf Fighter/Thief - Nocturne
Enters the tavern on July 10th. She will order for herself some of the local craft ale, and bread and cheese ploughman's luncheon.
-2sp
While eating, she listens in on Golgarth's story about Wights and undead buffaloes. She will approach him and snap a formal bow. "Greetings good sir, I am Selina, recently arrived. I heard your fascinating story, and agree that such a terrible evil cannot be allowed to fester. Allow me to pledge my sword to your cause, if you would have me. I am not a woman of the Gods, nor am I especially skilled at skulking or sneaking. However, my sword swings true and..."
Her lips quirk in the semblence of a bitter smile. "I am no stranger to lying through my teeth when the situation calls for it."
Allow me to pledge my sword to your cause, if you would have me.
The cleric is a bit taken aback by the young maiden's direct approach. Perhaps all his prayers have been answered at once. He stutters an introduction before gathering himself together.
"Of course, MissSelina. The evil in question is contained within the hearts and minds of cultic pagans who desecrate themselves before Nergal's foul altar."
He sits down with the warrior-maiden and gives the brief testimony of the Wight stampede and his recent reporting to Lord Krothos at the Old Manse.
"My sword-arm Gunter and I have stood in good stead with the Duke Kell and his son Krothos since a recent vanquishing of a cult in Ironguard. Krothos wishes to commission our skills, as humble as they are, to root out another insidious threat that plagues the Citadel.
But infiltrating a cult is not without risk, good men have paid the ultimate sacrifice in following my endeavours."
He orders a flagon of ale each, -3sp"In remembrance of Johka, Knatchbull , Cloverfield."
Turning to the young warrior. "We travel to Ironguard tomorrow. I will have a horse ready should you join us. It is not 'the Barrow Mounds' which is what usually draws adventurers to Helix, but the cults of Nergal resident there have a long reach and we are breaking their influence upon citizens and threat to the Crown."
He asks if Selina has any questions or needs beyond a horse (presuming she doesn't have one).
Bluetongue wrote: ↑Mon Nov 06, 2023 1:26 pm"My sword-arm Gunter and I have stood in good stead with the Duke Kell and his son Krothos since a recent vanquishing of a cult in Ironguard. Krothos wishes to commission our skills, as humble as they are, to root out another insidious threat that plagues the Citadel.
But infiltrating a cult is not without risk, good men have paid the ultimate sacrifice in following my endeavours."
He orders a flagon of ale each, -3sp"In remembrance of Johka, Knatchbull , Cloverfield."
Holds up her drink. "To your fallen friends. Do not worry good sir, for if I feared death, I would have stayed home behind tall stone walls."
He asks if Selina has any questions or needs beyond a horse (presuming she doesn't have one).
Bows her head and smiles in gratitude. "I indeed do not have a horse, and I appreciate the offer. Forgive my ignorance of the local geography, but how long a journey do we expect this to be? I spent most of my meager funds reaching here, and I only have a week's worth of rations. Also, if you are able, it may be worthwhile to obtain some holy water for me to carry on my person. Such blessed water is far beyond my own price range, but I may have need of some, should we face some foul undead who does not fear sharp steel."
Forgive my ignorance of the local geography, but how long a journey do we expect this to be? I spent most of my meager funds reaching here, and I only have a week's worth of rations. Also, if you are able, it may be worthwhile to obtain some holy water for me to carry on my person.
apologies for my slow response
"The Duchy will sponsor some of our endeavour, I trust to wrangle minor blessings for each of us and petition Cromm Cruach fir his intervention in time of need."
As to the journey, Ironguard is a few hours ride away, but the actual endeavour may take several days or longer. My last trek, to Bogtown to find a priest took the best part of two months with periods of rest and study included.
I think initial basic costs to be covered, after that we will be left to our own devices but I am sure what we spend can be recuperated or compensated in some way.
Bluetongue wrote: ↑Fri Nov 10, 2023 6:13 pmGolgarth "The Duchy will sponsor some of our endeavour, I trust to wrangle minor blessings for each of us and petition Cromm Cruach fir his intervention in time of need."
As to the journey, Ironguard is a few hours ride away, but the actual endeavour may take several days or longer. My last trek, to Bogtown to find a priest took the best part of two months with periods of rest and study included.
Selina
"Very good, then it seems that my supplies should be sufficient for now. I don't need anything else but the horse, and I will be ready to embark on the morrow." Selina will stand and rent herself a bed in the common bunk room above the stables for the night. -3sp
Golgarth to Selina, I am presuming these conversations happen post-Old Manse visit.
"My good friend Gunter and our aide Sidkrake have some minor contacts in Ironguard that may prove a good starting point for the endeavour.
Lord Krothos has equipped us with some holy waters, healing provision and cultic thematic implements that might help any disguise or infiltration to an inner secret society.
Cromm Cruach willing, we will leave early tomorrow."
unless there are more conversational needs, I am ready to depart.
Scarlett arrives in the village of Helix with the latest wagon train of merchants and market trade hawkers. After flogging her brace of jack rabbits to the butcher, she takes the meagre coins to buy an ale and cover a room in the tavern.
"Hello inn keeper. An ale please and some stew, yesterday's is fine if still edible"-3sp
She will take a table, placing her bow on the chair behind her, a shield and basic back tucked under the table. Breaking bread she bows her head to give silent thanks for a safe journey and then tucks in, observing the various patrons.
If the bard is present at the Midday, she might request a tune or two, "A song of folklore and mystery if you will. What legends can you sing and inspire about?"-1gp
Bollo greets the elven woman, serving her an ale and organising the kitchen fayre.
"Stew's still good and tasty, warm your heart on a rainy day. Chucked in a few extra bones and leftovers." he says, taking Scarlett's coins.
A tavern wench brings the bowl over with a plate of sliced crusty bread, this is freshly baked today at least.
Bublé the bard is in his corner, singing renditions of favoured jaunty songs. Taking a request, he strings his lute, tightening the screws and sets to music a poetic tribute that acts as a warning to those who seek adventure aming the Barrow Mounds.
" ... The dungeon you outgrew, and we did not pursue.
And now you’re in the que for your afterlife rendezvous.
The zombies that you slew assured us you were through.
That was something none of us could undo.
So, enjoy your new view, Drew. Whew!
We didn't know you long, Drew, but we appreciate your sacrifice all the same."
see full poem in the Memorials & Tributes thread
It is about a man who wandered in the labyrinths and got disemboweled and eaten by zombies, becoming one himself. "If you don't believe me about the dangers, just ask the beggar outside Miss." he says.
There are a few village patrons in the tavern, the Miller's labourers taking a shift break, dwarves fresh from smelting ore and casting Duchy broadswords at the Forge, gritty adventurers looking at maps, scars or trinkets, farmers and woodsmen coming in on market day. And a few patrons who like yourself, are new in the region, drawn by tales and songs of buried trove, buried hopes and buried lives.
She feels a bit out of her depth in looking around the tavern and trying to distinguish which among the patrons may be experienced and trustworthy adventurers and who might be a blaggard or bandit. Dwarves are always up for adventure but teaming up with an elf, a female one at that might be unusual. 'Not if I beat one at arm wrestling or downing pints mind' she thinks.
The beggar on the verandah, a wastrel in rags offering his wisdom for a tin cup of coppers offers little in the way of guidance.
She goes to the bar, buying another ale and taking a Common room berth for the night. -4sp.
"What of chapels and shrines hereabouts. Should an elf wish to pray, is there a grove to Silvanus?" she asks one of the serving wenches.
"You sing a pretty dirge." says Scarlett. "Let us pray that one such lament is not sung for one as pretty as you." , the bard replies, pocketing the song request fee and returning to his stage repertoire.
The elf, inexperienced as she notes, cannot really tell between patrons which might make good comrades; who might shield her when she falls, who she might herself stand in the gap for.
Asking about places of worship, "Brother Gamdar and Sister Cella take confessions and absolutions over at the Chapel. A fine restoration of the crumbling Cromm Cruach ruin, now dedicated to St Ygg. Cromm's folk pray around their own hearths though a minister comes and goes and has some designs on a shrine in the Cisterns.
Herne followers hold their dances and sacrifices out of town, at the ring of stones around the Horned God's statue. That's three miles west on the edge of the Barrow Moor. Dwarves pray in the shadow of the Forge-fires. A hear a few 'new agers' gravitate together to erect an Arcantryl shrine over by the new Guild that sprouted up.
Of Silvanus, not much call for that here in the village. Elves go into the woods.
Some go and don't come back though, dangerous place for lone wanderers, the woods ..."
She gets a low down on the state of village piety, takes another ale and sorts her accommodation out.
Theraxx rumbled inside, apparently discussing with someone, or grumbling about something to himself - the dwarf seemed solid as a rock, and ready for war, different weapons and pieces of gear jutting at odd angles from his person, as if he was a poorly chiseled rock.
His bright blue eyes scanned the room in silence from behind a deeply furrowed brow, his chest rising and falling with heavy deep breaths as he tugged on his strong brown beard. The traveler's attention was caught for a moment by the shield hanging above the mirror, and he nodded nod in appreciation, even more vigorously when he noticed the fantastic array of ales in display.
Seemingly content, he found a place to sit down, leaning his wooden shield against the wall next to him, and placing his backpack on the floor - he looked around for one of the workers of the place - "A pint" - the dwarf asked in a deep voice - "Of yer local ale" - he added, placing a silver coin on the table.
