Session 4:
Great Harvest 2
Warm, very windy day, clear skies
Immersion: Sense of Fear
Scene #28:
Sylvia wakes with a start, a sudden feeling of dread as she runs her hands across the fine cotton sheets and feathered mattress. Her eyes fall on her tattered clothes and stolen leather currais, “I’m invited to the king’s birthday. What am I going to wear?”
She quietly slips into her clothes and out into the hall. A servant regards her with curiosity, and Sylvia notes that even the maid’s clothes are clean and in good repair. In a panic she starts knocking on Garrick’s door.
I roll out of bed and don my tunic before answering, “What is it, girl?” I ask sleepily, having never felt such comfort as the feathered bead I had just crawled out of.
“We need better clothes! We can’t go to the king’s birthday looking like this!” Sylvia stammers.
I chuckle, “Relax. We have time. We have money. We’ll go into town after breakfast and arrange something. Don’t worry.”
Sylvia gulps nervously, “Ummm….alright.”
I look around the hallway, then return to my room and finish getting dressed. Sylvia is waiting in he hall when I return, and we head down to the kitchen for breakfast.
Q: Is Ronan already up? EXCEPTIONAL NO Q: Is Edwin? NO
One of the servants looks on as we arrive, “Early risers I see? Breakfast is still being prepared, it is scarcely dawn.”
I nod, “just give us some cheese and some bread from last night if you have any. We have business in town to attend.”
Q: Do they have bread? YES
The woman smiles, “Yes, good man.” Moments later she returns from the kitchen with a clay bowl holding two half loaves of bread, some hard cheese, a couple of apples and some raisins. I thank her and Sylvia and I sit and eat in the garden.
Q: Is anyone else in the garden EXCEPTIONAL YES Q: Someone I know? EXCEPTIONAL NO Q: A staff member? YES E: Positive for Marlowe: the Informing of Elements
I notice a woman at the other end of the garden from where we sit, she is gathering produce for the day’s meals. I call to her, “Good morning, friend.”
-Persuasion 12- (Topic-Skills)
She glances up and smiles, “Good morning. You are a guest of the household?” I nod and introduce Sylvia and myself. She looks us over and asks, “You don’t seem to be high born, are you a tradesman?” I explain that I am a scout and a bowmaker. This seems to satisfy her curiosity and she continues with her work. Soon we finish our breakfast and Sylvia and I head into town.
Scene #29:
Edwin wakes as teh servant brings him his breakfast in bed. He smiles in gratitude and asks where he might find the library after his morning meal.
He savors each bite, enjoying the repast before dressing and climbing the stairs to the third floor of the keep. The guards let him pass.
Q: Is there anyone else in the library? NO
One of the guards follows him inside, looking the thin scholar over as he does. “A man of letters I take it?”
Edwin smiles as he briefly glances at the guard, then turning wide eyes towards the collection of books on the room’s shelves. “Yes, I am at that. There is no need for you to wait with me. I will not take anything, and I intend to be here until the sun sets and the candles have melted to nothing.”
Q: Does the guard stay? NO
“As you say,” the guard replies, then turns and leaves.
The scholar then begins scouring the shelves and soon finds what he is looking for, an ancient looking book bound in a red scaled hide, and trimmed with carved bone. He carefully runs his hands along the cover, sensing the power within, and opens the tome. He smiles as he studies the careful elven script within, and begins to study. After a few minutes, he gets up and races to the door, “Guard! Has my companion Garrick left the keep? I need him to run an errand for me!”
Q: Does the guard know? NO
“I am not certain, but I will ask,” the man replies. Edwin then returns to his scholarship.
Scene #30:
Ronan wakes near noon, surprised at himself for sleeping so long. The meal at his side has been there for hours, but he still savors the flavors. Then he dresses, and heads down to the keep’s muster to watch the soldiers drill. He smiles, never having been able to sleep so long before, and knowing these men woke before dawn.
E: Ambiguous Significance: a Deception regarding Love
As he wanders the grounds, eventually he finds himself in the garden where, he hears someone, or rather a couple of someone’s enjoying themselves. Before he can withdraw a well dressed man, from the waist up anyway, stands, flushed in the face, “Well done lass!” Then he notices Ronan and glares at him, “Who are you? I shall call the guards.”
“A guest of the king. I did not mean to interrupt you and…” Ronan pauses on seeing the lady stand up, pulling her dress back down into place.
“Forgive me, Lord,” she stammers, blushing and scurries away.
“You saw nothing,” the young nobleman commands. He dresses as Ronan continues his walk.
Scene #31:
In town, Sylvia and I search for a tailor’s shop. It isn’t hard to find.
-No Encounter-
We enter the “Silken Tresses” and are greeted by a tall, spindly man who introduces himself as Albert Longfingers. We explain that we are guest’s of the royal household and will need something appropriate to wear to a feast. He looks us over, and then takes our measurement. Sylvia nervous to have the man putting hands on her as she has never been properly fitted for anything before, but after a bit of convincing, she strips down to her undergarments for his wife.
While he helps her, I examine the shop’s wares, and ultimately decide to purchase some sturdier clothes for both Sylvia and myself. “Longfingers! We have two other companions who I will send by for fittings and garments as well.” He thanks me for our patronage and we depart with the travelling clothes I have purchased.
We regroup in the evening, dining in the hall with several lesser nobles, the household knights, as the king and his family are not present for the evening meal.
“Where were you, Garrick?” Edwin implores, “I needed you to go to town for me and fetch these ingredients for my inkpot!” He hands me a list of goods.
“You couldn’t have asked a household servant to do it?” I raise an eyebrow as I look over the list.
The scholar stammers, then frowns, “Most of them don’t know how to read!”
I chuckle, “True enough, I’m sure,” as I slide the list to Sylvia.
She rolls her eyes, then looks at the list, “There are some S’s on it, like in my name.”
“You can spell your name?” Ronan asks in surprise.
“Of course!” Sylvia sits up straight and boast, “S…E…L…V…E…U. A soldier taught me that!”
Edwin tries to stifle a grin as he glances at me. Ronan replies, “That’s not how you spell your name.”
“Yes it is!” Sylvia insists, “Maybe you don’t know how my name is spelt! Am I right?” She turns to Edwin for reassurance.
“I can truthfully say, that is exactly how you spell your name,” the scholar nods.
I chuckle. “What?” demands Sylvia, but we move on as I instruct Edwin and Ronan how to find the tailor shop in case they wish to dress more appropriately for the coming festivities. The scholar sighs and reclaims his shopping list, since he needs to go into town now anyway.
Great Harvest 3 to 5:
Q: Does anything special happen over the next couple of days? NO
The next three days see Edwin poring over ancient books in the library. Ronan sparring with several soldiers, admiring horses and generally learning more about the garrison and its defenses. I spend my days working in Fenwick’s shop, while Sylvia bounces between the study and the shop, restless, but trying to stay out of trouble. She even spends a day watching the king hold court over his subjects.
After dinner on our fourth day as the King’s guests, I suggest to Edwin, “These goblins, they are growing bold. There is fear in the town, and you want to find that ruin…Grom you called it? Perhaps we should talk to the king, maybe he would sponsor an expedition to the ruins if we agree to help figure out where these goblins are actually coming from and why they are growing so bold.”
Edwin looks up from his book, “The broken spire lit by a sickly moon…, oh, you were saying something?”
I repeat my concerns and he nods, “Yes, that is a good idea. We should talk to the king, and…there are many ruins near Firth that might be worth investigating.”
-Add two spells to Edwin’s roster at no cost, no learn check for gaining second level. The old spellbook discovered in the King’s library holds Illusory Script and Thunderwave (plus a number of 2nd level and one 3rd level spell), Deduct money for four sets of fine clothing, four sets of traveler’s clothes, Two 2 person tents, and a set of cooking utensils. Edwin also reads “Annals of the Free Marches” about Firth’s earliest decades and learning about “the ruins beneath the old well”, and “The Lady’s Tears: A History of Thurm’s Fall” referencing a “broken spire lit by a sickly moon” matching a ruin on Sylvia’s map, two days northeast of Firth
The Goblin Nest!
Great Harvest 6:
-Windy, Heavy Rain in the Afternoon-
Scene #32 (Negative Alteration):
In the Great Hall, Edwin and I approach the king. “Your majesty,” Edwin begins, “We thank you for your continued hospitality, and would like to offer our services. My companion tells me that many in the town fear the growing goblin threat. We would offer to help discover the source of that threat, with your blessing, of course.”
The high steward leans in towards the king, and whispers in his ear. The king speaks, “I assure you that my men have the situation well in hand. There is nothing you need worry about.” With that, we are dismissed.
I glance at Edwin in surprise as he bows. I bow as well, then we back out of the room. “King’s getting bad advice,” I mutter after leaving the hall.
Edwin agrees, “I hear there is an elven settlement somewhere to the west along the coast. A Silvernar Tower, it is called. Perhaps they know something about the goblins, and…other sites of interest to us.” I nod, then inform Ronan and Sylvia that we need to pack up and leave.
“What’s happening?” Sylvia asks, confused but excited to get out of the castle.
“Goblin hunting,” I reply.
Ronan nods, “It’s about time. The king is finally ready to deal with this threat.”
I shake my head, “Edwin asked. We are on our own.” Ronan sighs as he gathers his gear. We are on the road out of town within the hour.
-Immersion-Touch something solid in the Environment-
E: Negative for King Gerald Free: the Overindulgence of the Military
Scene #33:
I scan the dark clouds in the sky and note the high winds and we pull our cloaks around ourselves on our way past the city’s stone walls. “A storm is coming,” I note.
Sylvia asks if we should wait until tomorrow to leave, but Edwin shakes his head, “No, we will take shelter if it gets bad, but I’d rather leave town before King’s man decides not to let us.”
And by noon, we reach the Green Fox Inn and take shelter there as the heavens open up. I smile at Sylvia, “See, you wanted to visit this place, now is your chance!”
-Generate Tavern Staff- A Charisma 8 tavern wench?-
Sylvia grins and eagerly enters the tavern, quickly finding us a table to wait out the pending storm. I sit beside her, and Ronan across from us while Edwin summons the serving girl, “Food and drink please,” he asks as the short, curly haired woman glares at him. She abruptly turns and storms towards the bar to fetch some tankards and a tray of food the heavyset man behind the bar is spooning out for us.
She nearly slams the tray on the table in front of us. Sylvia, wide eyed, looks at me, then starts to giggle. Ronan does as well as the woman walks away, “What’s wrong with that one?” he muses.
Edwin scarcely seemed to notice as he has pulled out his journal and is looking it over, “May I see your map again, Sylvia?” he asks.
She quickly puts down the bread she had already started stuffing into her mouth, and pulls the old document from her pack. He lays it out across the table, “Be careful! That’s mine! I don’t want stew on it. It was a gift!” He mumbles an apology and moves the map over a bit and then studies it more carefully.
Ronan is watching the trail of his finger on the map with great interest. “What’s that you are pointing at?”
“That should be the location of the Broken Spire,” Edwin replies, “I read about it in the King’s library.
“What’s special about it?” I ask, leaning over my bowl and enjoying the meal.
Q: Did a wizard used to live at the spire? YES
“There were some passages about a wizard living there, a master of elemental magic. I think it is worth a visit,” he smiles looking up at us.
I shrug, “You said you were seeking ancient lore. As long as Ronan and I…and Sylvia, get fair shares of any plunder, we are by your side.”
Ronan nods, and Sylvia’s eyes light up, “Magic treasure?” she beams, “I hope I find a magic ring! One that lets me blend seamlessly into a crowd so nobody notices me coming or going!”
Ronan shakes his head, “That’s just what the world needs, a light fingered cutpurse nobody remembers seeing.” Then he chuckles, “Never change girl, never change.”
She smiles, surprised at his unexpected gentleness.
“Careful, Ronan, she might realize you aren’t as heartless as you pretend to be,” I warn.
The smile vanishes from Ronan’s face, “If there is anything there that goblins haven’t already taken, or some other looters haven’t run off with, it will be well guarded.”
Edwin nods, “Yes. And that’s why the two of you are with me. Just in case.”
Q: Is there lodging? EXCEPTIONAL YES
We continue our meals and discussion. It is still raining as night falls, so I go and hire some rooms for our party.
-Taproom event-customer spills-
Suddenly, I hear Sylvia scream, “Watch out!”
I turn to see the girl leaping up and trying to pull her map from the table where a man is doubled over. I see several spilt tankards and realize he has made a mess of things.
“You’ve had too much, friend,” Ronan says, grabbing the man and dragging him towards the door.
“I’m so sorry,” Edwin stammers as he tries to help Sylvia clean off her map.
“Leave me alone!” she blurts out, pushing him away, “You’ve done enough already!” I see tears welling up in her eyes as she takes the map over near the hearth to start drying it out. “Please don’t stain, please don’t stain,” she mutters urgently as I approach.
Q: Does the patron resist? NO
Ronan comes back inside, glances at the soiled map, shakes his head, and turns towards Edwin, “Perhaps it is unwise to be looking at maps in a crowded tavern.”
Edwin sighs and shakes his head, “It’s nothing. Really. Trust me.” He walks over to Sylvia and I, “You bought us rooms?” he asks. I nod, then he continues, “Sylvia, come with me.”
“I need to dry this out first,” She replies coldly.
“No, you don’t. Trust me. Please,” Edwin offers, calmly, firmly, extending his hand to her.
Q: Does she trust him? NO
“No!” she insists, “You ruined my present!”
He kneels down next to her, “Extends two fingers towards the map, makes a circular motion, “Porus” he says.
Sylvia’s eyes widen, “What did you do? It’s dry. It’s…clean!”
“Shhh,” Edwin replies, raising a finger to his mouth. “Nobody else needs know.”
Q: Did the patrons notice? YES
The eyes of the man at the nearest table grow wide as saucers, “What did you just do? Are you a…”
“Wizard? I am an adept from the Iron Scholarium in Kardashev,” Edwin states clearly as he stands, “And a friend of King Geralf Free, of Firth.”
There is a murmur as the people in the inn absorb Edwin’s words. I rise to my feet, ensuring my cloak lines up behind me, so the twin blades on my belt are plainly visible. I lock eyes with Ronan near the door, who is watching for any trouble as well.
Q: Is there trouble? NO
“Can you do any tricks?” a young man asks, suddenly excited.
Edwin smiles, “A few. Let me show you. Bring out some candles.”
Ronan and I relax as Sylvia joins the throng of patrons gathered around Edwin to watch him light candles with a word, cause sparks of lightning to form between his fingers, summon tiny ghostlike images of animals into his hands.
-Performance 4-
The tricks may be impressive, but Edwin’s presentation is not. Soon the crowd starts to lose interest, “Is that all you can do? Pffft, wizard? Right.” “I guess he might make a good cleaner or something,” Another man adds. After a few minutes, we are able to retire to our rooms.
“Well, I was impressed,” Sylvia says, following our dejected leader upstairs. “Thank you for fixing my map.”
He smiles at her, “Thank you, for letting me use it…and for learning to trust me.”
She hesitates, then smiles, “I should trust you. Because you have trusted me, and I haven’t even earned it yet.”
Edwin smiles, “You will.”
Great Harvest 7
-Light rain in the afternoon, hot, muggy day, windy-
-No Encounters-
-Forest Dressing-
We set off from Green Fox Inn, following the muddy road west, stepping by puddles, cloaks cast aside in the hot muggy day, though Edwin wears his, cowl pulled up over his head.
“Garrick? Can we get a mule?” Sylvia asks as she shoulders her pack, then glancing back at Ronan, and the tent he now has with his gear, “Ronan says he’s tired.” she teases with a grin.
“Said no such thing,” he replies dourly.
“Ronan is a mule. Every good soldier is. Stubborn as one anyway,” I reply. Edwin looks between the two of them and shakes his head.
“I’m just playing,” Sylvia admits.
Edwin then adds, “A mule will come in handy, but not until we know for sure where we are going. Right now, it is just an unnecessary expense. When we go to the Broken Spire, it might be wise to bring a mule. We will definitely bring one when we go to Gorm.”
“What’s so special about Gorm, anyway? You keep mentioning it,” Sylvia asks.
“Sacred baths, said to be able to cure any ailment,” Edwin explains.
“Are you sick or something? Is that why you are so skinny?” Sylvia asks.
Edwin chuckles, “No, I am skinny because my father was skinny and his father.” Then he pauses, “But my eyes have been bothering me lately. They can’t stand the sun anymore.”
“That’s why you are always rubbing them,” Sylvia observes. The scholar nods.
“And why you have your cloak pulled up over your head on a hot, humid day,” I note. “There are ways to treat that, just ask…oh, wait! Hold up!” I walk off the road towards some trees with Nogbuttons growing on it.
“Gross! What is that!” Sylvia exclaims as I pull the fungal growths from the trees. The coiled fungus looks like raw brain, but I take a bite, then toss a chuck to Sylvia. She tentatively takes a bite, then smiles, “Sweet! Like…honey almost. Chewy though.” I harvest some more of the Nogbutton and add it to our provisions.
We march for the rest of the day, though it rains off an on throughout the latter half of it.
Q: Are we welcome? NO
By nightfall, we have reached the village of Red Claw. It is a small community, with no tavern. The guards look us over as we arrive. “Who are you?” the sergeant at the village gate demands.
“I am Edwin Marlowe from Kardon, we are…”
“Never mind. You can’t come in. It’s after dark. Nobody comes and goes after dark. We have no lodgings anyway,” the sergeant insists, looking at Ronan and I. “We don’t need trouble. Don’t welcome brigands. Keep going.”
Edwin reasserts himself, “We are friends of the king.”
“And I’m his long lost brother, so what? Move along,” the guard insists.
“Let’s go,” I suggest, pulling Edwin away, “This place isn’t worth our time. We have tents, food, we don’t need to stay where we aren’t welcome.”
Q: Does the guard look like a veteran? YES
As I lead Edwin and Sylvia away, Ronan walks over to the guard and slowly looks him up and down. Then shakes his head, “A man who’s seen as much fighting as you should learn to be a better judge of character. If you keep your head, you are more likely to keep your head.” Then he follows us towards the treeline where we pitch our tents at the forest’s edge.
Great Harvest 8
-clear skies, no rain, hot, still muggy from the standing puddles from the previous two days-
-immersion, smell-moss-
-No Random Encounter-
Scene #34:
The night passed uneventfully, and the next morning, we packed our gear and started moving west through forest, following a faint trail through the wilds. Edwin assures me that Silvernar lies ahead, but it is clear that there is no regular trade between the elves and men of this region.
The canopy is thick overhead, and ancient moss grows heavy on the trees. Though it is a warm day, we are largely shaded from the heat and Edwin finally rolls up his cloak, no longer squinting beneath the sun’s eager rays.
-Forest Dressing-
“Up there!” Edwin says, pointing up into some high boughs. I follow his gaze and see a large beehive completely swarming in the little insects.
“Honey would be nice, don’t you think?” Sylvia suggests, eagerly.
I shake my head and pull some more Nogbutton from my pack, tossing it to her, “Chew on this. It stings less.”
She giggles as she starts eating, “How much more of that do you have?”
“Enough to satisfy me, but probably not enough to make you happy,” I grin. She giggles as she falls back in line. Ronan brings up the rear, as has become the norm on this trek.
Near evening, I start following a narrow stream until I find a decent sized pool where we could actually bathe and refresh ourselves should we choose. We set camp there with Edwin following his usual habit of pacing the far perimeter chanting in some arcane language nobody else understands. Sylvia gathering firewood, looking for anything dry enough to use. Ronan polishing his boots, and me readying our meal.
As we sit down to our meals, Edwin says, “Enemies!”, but Sylvia is already on her feet drawing an arrow. There are men coming through the underbrush, and a black robed woman stretches out her fingers and chants something. Ronan freezes in place! Sylvia shoots one of the men, the arrow drives deep into his side. Ronan shakes his head, and draws his blade as he stands. I draw my blades and leap towards the black robed woman, she dodges one blow but the other traces down her arm. She hisses in anger! Then two magic darts from Edwin slam into her as a third finishes the man Sylvia shot, sending him crumpling to the ground.
One man slashes at Ronan, but does not get past his defenses. The black robed woman reaches towards me, her hand sheathed in black energy. I feel my life force fading as she grabs my wrist, “Die, heathen!” I stagger, my blows catching nothing but air as three more arcane darts slam into her. I hear Ronan yell out, “I’ve got the rear”, and one of Sylvia’s arrows flies past.
The black robed woman’s hands glow once more, but this time, I step aside and slash her across beneath her armpit. Then bolt of fire nearly blinds me, and she staggers backwards, collapsing to the ground, her robes aflame.
I step back, looking to see what is happening. Two men are fighting Ronan, a third lays at his feet. Then an arrow from Sylvia takes one of the men, and the other dodges Ronan’s hammer, only to be engulfed in flames as Edwin stretches out his hand once more.
I look around, take a deep breath and mutter a prayer of thanksgiving that we survived. “Police the bodies,” I say as I clean an sheathe my blades.
“What’s that mean? Check for loot?” Sylvia asks as she starts to do so.
“Yeah, check for loot. Check to make sure they are dead. See if they have anything worthy of note,” I instruct.
“Like this weird pendant? It’s a snake eating an eyeball!” Sylvia notes holding it up.
-Dice for survivors, three live? Doesn’t seem very cultlike to me-
Edwin is about to take it from her to examine when Ronan speak interrupts. “Survivor.”
The cultist looks up at him, rage in his eyes, “The serpent will devour you!” he curses, then expires.
“That’s…I’ve never seen anyone simply seem to will themselves to death before,” Ronan examines the corpse, puzzled.
Q: Is there poison? NO
Edwin walks over and studies the body as well. He examines the man’s skin, smells his mouth and nose. “No sign of poison,” he checks the wounds, “Bad, but survivable I’d have thought. I took worse.”
I join them, and examine the body as well, “Perhaps, whatever serpent these men are bound to…it claimed him.”
Sylvia checks the others, “All dead. All had that same pendant around their necks, and…some had a few coins. Not much. Clearly they weren’t heading to market.”
We drag the bodies outside of the warded perimeter, and repost guards.
Great Harvest 9
-Sweltering, clear skies, windy-
-Immersion-smell candles or burning-
-No Random Encounter-
E: Negative for Sylvia: the Activity of Pleasures
Scene #35:
The companions wake to the smell of smoke in the air. Sylvia explains, “I first smelled it a couple of hours ago. I thought about waking you all, but…the animal noised didn’t change, and I didn’t think it was important.”
I sit up and look at her, then notice my pack is open, and the Nogbutton is gone. Sylvia isn’t looking quite well. “And if you’d woken us, I wouldn’t have let you eat three pounds of sweets?”
She blushes, then confesses, “I don’t feel very good.”
Ronan laughs, “Imagine how you’ll feel after a day’s march on an overfull belly.”
The girl groans and falls on her back, “Can’t we just rest here for a day.”
I glance over at the corpses just beyond our perimeter, they’ve undoubtedly already been nibbled on through the night. “You don’t want to be here when the scavengers all wake. Nothing terribly dangerous, but not a pleasant thing to watch.”
“Shouldn’t we bury them?” Sylvia asks.
“Did you bring a shovel?” replies Ronan.
Edwin looks up from his journal where he is making some sort of notes, “We should reach Silvernar by nightfall. Sylvia, stay out of other people’s packs unless you ask permission. There are sometimes…things, that should not be disturbed.”
Sylvia and I each raise an eyebrow towards him. Ronan simply agrees, “Good advice.”
Three of us quickly eat then break camp, continuing our journey. It doesn’t take long before we are drenched in sweat. Ronan eventually removes his heavy armor, shifting it into his pack and trusting his shield and gambeson for protection should it come to that.
-Stealth 24, we don’t know we are being shadowed-
We press on through the day, and I notice the vegetation changes, Nogbutton becomes very common and I realize that the native oak, birch and beech trees are giving way to a larger golden hued tree which neither Edwin nor I have seen before.
“Berries!” announces Sylvia as she approaches some inviting looking plans. “With thorns,” she scowls drawing closer.
“You weren’t going to eat those were you?” I ask.
“Um…are they poisonous or something?” She asks, suddenly unsure.
“No idea. I’ve never seen it before. I don’t recommend trying them,” I warn.
“There was a book on local flora in the King’s library. Perhaps I should have read that instead of the book of etiquette,” observes Edwin.
“You think?” scowls Ronan.
“I was thinking about the King’s feast, actually,” admits the scholar, “Not that we might run out of provisions. Which, we are not doing.”
Ronan nods, and offers no further objection to Edwin’s logic.
Soon, the golden hued trees and maze of thorn berry plants are almost all around us. “It’s like we are being channeled into a kill zone. Every step we take, we have fewer options moving forward,” Ronan observes. I nod in agreement, having noticed the same thing.
“Fascinating,” admits Edwin, then looking up into the high canopy, he spots the first house and the lattice of planks leading from it to the second. Elves stare down at us, curious, but non threatening, though a couple have bows in hand.
As we continue forward, more homes coming into view, and armored elf calls down in Firthian Kardashev, “That is quite far enough, humans. What brings you to Silvernar?”
Edwin replies, in Elven, “Goblin troubles. We hoped your people might know the source of it, and perhaps the solution.”
The elf smiles, then draws his thumb across his neck, “That’s the only solution for your kind. But for us, we are content to simply wait them out. When whoever their current leader grows so old their carcass feeds the worms, the remainder will go back to their aimless ways and cease to be trouble. Allow me to take you to our lord.”
A couple of elves lower rope harnesses to us and help us climb up into their forest village. We carefully follow the elven knight towards the heart of their community. He tells us his name is Ebonleaf, because of his black hair, and asks about Shirra Bluetree. Edwin responds that the herbalist seems to be doing quite well, though he had only met her a couple of days ago when he was buying ingredients for his inkpot.
We are led to a massive tree that seems to bulge outward halfway up the length of its trunk, having formed a gigantic gall that, through a singular ornately carved doorway, opens into a luxurious home. A majestic looking white haired elf, golden eyes lined with age like a man in his fifties, looks up with us with a cryptic smile. “Welcome to our home. I am Elbroth, called the Wise. I trust you come in peace?”
Ebonleave stands behind us, two similarly armed elves are also in the room, as are half a dozen leather clad elves with bows and spears in easy reach.
-Persuasion 9-
Edwin steps forward with a bow, and in Elven, “Goblins have been raiding the lands of men in Firth, attacking travelers, stealing from farms, causing fear. They have been nothing more than a nuisance so far, but the people grow wary. His majesty’s daughter nearly fell prey to them. Do you know where they come from? And, do you know what this is?” He holds up one of the serpent pendants taken from the cultists who ambushed us.
The elf takes the pendant from Edwin’s hand, “The Children of the Serpent.” he replies in Kardashev. When pressed, he continues, “Many years ago, long before my time, or my grandfather’s, the world was less dangerous, But thee was a cult devoted to the elder god, Krenax, who of course, we elves still worship, though you men seem to have forgotten. But this particular sect fell under the sway of the Lich King, and were drawn into darkness. Since those days, for thousands of years, they have sought to sow discord, and bring chaos into the world. Killing kings, and ordinary men alike, whoever’s death would bring that goal to fruit. Anyway, the goblins of these “North Woods” as your people call this land, number in the thousands. There are not enough skilled fighting men under King Free’s banner to defeat them even in a pitched battle, much less pursuing them through the wilds. Even if Lord Kirn of Oldenfall were to commit troops, there would not be enough. But goblins are an unruly sort, and without a strong leader, each band goes its separate way.” The ancient elf pulls a bone scroll case from a shelf, opens it, and unrolls a map onto a table for us to see, “This is a gift for you. It is old, but the goblin warrens are here,” he points to a place on the map.
Sylvia unrolls her map to compare, and Edwin studies them both. “A treasure,” the scholar notes, pointing out the Broken Spire, and Gorm both on the map, and also the extend of the goblin lands and the likely location of the warrens, “Thank you.”
The elf smiles, also studying the newer human map, “Please, remain here as our guests before you return home tomorrow.”
We gratefully accept his hospitality and are shown to an abandoned home on the edge of the community where we are told we may rest. We secure our packs while, and then we join Elbroth the wise and his kin for dinner. We feast on roast venison, served with an nutty tasting, flaky flatbread, within which is sandwiched a pudding made of dried grapes, nogbutton and shredded leaves. This light and overly sweet meal is served with a rich, slightly sour wine. Ronan and I eat a lot more meat than any of our hosts, who seem to relish the bread more than flesh. Conversation swirls around us, with Edwin speaking fluently in the elven tongue. Ronan, Sylvia and I cannot follow their words.
Q: Does anyone talk to us? YES (female) Q: a mage? YES Topic-power- (generate some bio stuff and personality information)
An elven woman sits across from us. She looks to be about Ronan’s age, so she is clearly centuries old. “Your friend, this Edwin Marlowe, he is a wizard with an insatiable thirst for power, no?”
I look at her in surprise, “I wouldn’t say that. He is a wizard with a thirst for knowledge.”
Ronan’s reply is more firm, “He is not like the warlords of Gorad Mir who send legions to their deaths in hunger for glory, slaves and plunder, nor even the ambitious barons of Kardashev who maneuver for honor and influence even while fighting side by side in battle. He seeks knowledge. And the three of us hope to find a little gold while helping him.”
The elf nods, “Gold? I see. That is what drives the hearts of men.”
Sylvia replies, “It buys a warm bed and a full belly, have you ever been without either?”
The elf regards her, “You are a child, yes?”
Sylvia bristles, “I have fought.”
I put my hand over Sylvia’s, then explain to the elf, “She is young. And she has only lived in a great city, where the poor and penniless are forgotten. But enough about us, what of you?”
“I harness the natural magic of the world in tinctures an elixirs, harvesting the power granted creation by the god, Krenax.” she explains.
“Potions and tinctures that can mend broken flesh?” I inquire.
The elf smirks, “Not for treasure hunters.”
-Persuasion 13-
Ronan snorts derisively. I shoot him a glance before weighing my reply, “We are grateful for Lord Elbroth’s hospitality, and his wisdom, sharing knowledge and good will with those who will seek an end to the goblin menace that threatens all in this land.”
The elf reflects on my words, then musters a faint smile, “Elbroth, my father, is truly wise. And I should abide by his judgement regarding those he welcomes into our home. My name is Illyana.”
I introduce myself and my companions. We then turn towards discussing the elven lands. I learn the golden hued trees are called Eldetrees, that their boughleafs and brednut are both edible. The nuts, ground to flour and baked with honey form the honeybread we eat, and the pudding is called filwell. The thorny bushes we saw are called wynberry, and the fruit is sour and bitter, but as a wine it quite good.
One of the elves plays a somber tone on a harplike instrument, and as the moons of fate and fortune meet over head, we finally retire to bed.
(Party gains 250 xp each, +1 Glory, Rank 1 in “The Watchers” whatever they are, +1 Elf Friend, and Ronan is now 3rd level. Battle Master makes sense, but I hate keeping up with abilities using multiple charactes, so he goes Champion)
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