With the final question being asked, Shay waits with bated breath along with the others. She turns to the corpse of the woman and silently wishes her a peaceful return to her slumber when all was said and done.
The corpse turns an unseeing eye to Rastrin, then to Harold, and finally, slowly, to Marcos. The look seems to grip him like the hand of a giant. The dead woman's voice then voices an answer to the final question as the maggots begin to close in on her face from its edges.
“He who stands here already knows what I would want him to know.”
With that, the wriggling larvae again swarm over her eyes, her nose, into her mouth. But whatever animus was giving her breath to speak — foul though the breath was — has left her, and she sinks to her knees and then down to the ground, face in the mud, as you first found her.
Marcos’ shoulders slump almost imperceptibly. Then like a flash of lightning, he roars, raising his hand and sending a bolt of sizzling golden energy to crack into the cloven carriage, which splinters and shudders before the part the beam struck — a finely varnished door — glows brightly then disintegrates into silver embers.
Marcos' breath comes in and out quickly and deeply until, with visible effort, he regains control of himself. Reluctantly his eyes shift to Harold, Rastrin, and finally Shay. When he speaks, his tone is halting, a strange shadow lengthening away from sunlight. “I did not recognize her until the maggots had left her face," he says, almost in a whisper. "We were… once…” He trails off, takes another deep breath, then strides purposefully to the edge of the dell and there stands alone for several minutes as the graying clouds swirl slowly overhead.
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Harold frowns and gives Marcos the space he needs. "It now seems that I am not the only one in this party to have had someone close to them killed by these stone-clad murderers." Harold mutters aloud as he turns his head away from the corpse to watch Marcos stand alone near the dell. After starting blankly at the corpse in front of him for a few moments, he turns away and pulls a flask from inside his jacket. After taking a sip, he breaths in through teeth sharply and clears his throat. "Although you may not want them now, I made you each a snack to hold us over until later today." He adds as he hands out the individually wrapped biscuits.
Rastrin gives a sympathetic smile to Marcos when he mentions that the woman and he used to be involved with one another. It must certainly be painful to lose close to you like that. He’s about to say something consoling, but rather, he yelps and jumps a bit in surprise as Marcos lashes out at one of the wagons.
Figuring it would be best to give Marcos some room, he sidles up to Shay and Harold. He gratefully takes the proffered biscuit and begins munching on his for a long moment.
Eventually, he asks, “So what now? We found the caravan, but we can’t really do anything about them now. Should we maybe go to the river?” He glances at Shay as he continues. “You could druid us up some info about where they went from there or something,” he says with a shrug. He wasn’t quite sure how her abilities worked, but he did know she had some sort of connection to nature. Or at least that what’s he heard.
It’s easy to see the vast amount of pain in Marcos’s expression as the man experiences a brief moment of rage and destroys a carriage. She can’t begin to understand what he feels as he walks to the edge of the dell and remains there to collect himself further. Shay chances a small step in his direction, knowing it likely wouldn’t make much difference, but needing him to know he had allies in them.
“Whoever she was to you before, know that I’m sorry for your loss.” Deciding to leave things at that, Shay follows her companions lead and gives Marcos more space as she joins them a short way off.
She takes the biscuit and stores it away for later, thanking Harold, grateful for the distraction however small it is. Rastrin suggests heading to the river to look into what was left behind and Shay finds herself agreeing since it only made sense to investigate what remained.
”If there’s anything to see, it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try. It worked well enough with our ankheg friends.” She looks between the two of them and lowers her voice instinctually despite their distance. “Besides, it might be best we leave Marcos here for a while, he seems like he needs a moment to be properly alone. I’m assuming she was probably his lover in the past.” She goes in the direction of the river with cautious optimism and hears the two trailing closely behind.
Marcos gives no trace of an acknowledgement when Shay offers condolences to him. But just when she is about to rejoin the others, he looks around to her, his dark blue eyes – almost black in the gray light – lift to meet Shay’s and hold them for a long moment. He nods almost imperceptibly before turning away again.
The Dessarin runs deep and wide through the Sumber Hills, and now, in early spring, its waters are ice cold. A strong swimmer can cross it in summer when the temperature is less deadly, but at this time of year, one would have to have a constitution of iron or simply be a fool to make the attempt. Yet, at least, the water does not rush headlong at any point between Waterdeep and Yartar, making the river navigable throughout its first hundred miles. The pull of the river’s flow is not a danger, but the water itself, a capricious giver and taker of life to any who live by its bounty.
While Vaszil remains on the battlefield with Marcos, Wit leads Shay, Rastrin, and Harold along a widened deer trail down the hillside and through the brush. Some fifteen minutes later they reach the riverbank. There is a beach or landing, a rise along the bank, topped by a row of broken trees whose roots could not hold when their grip was worn away by rising water and then tested by winter winds. River trout, turtles, waterfowl, and a few beavers move in the vicinity, not terribly concerned by the presence of the men and woman. A dead oak supports an osprey nest and the raptors take turns in a neighborly battle against a half dozen crows for dibs on the fish tempted too close to the water’s surface by the waterbugs and flies that hover just above it.
At the edge of the landing, Wit points out the grooves in the earth where he says keelboats landed and a set of footsteps preserved in grassy mud along the ridge of the landing. To your eyes, his assessment was exactly correct. But where the boat went after pushing off would be impossible to know based on these signs alone.
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Rastrin looks at the river thoughtfully. Now that they were here, hopefully Shay would be able to commune with nature or something like that to figure out where to brigands went. Other than that, he didn't really have any thoughts about what they should do next. They had to figure out where those brigands went. Not only did they butcher an entire delegation of innocent people and took captive those that survived, apparently, they had been terrorizing others for some time now. Harold had some sort of past with them as well, and Rastrin was more than a little bit curious how the merchant came across them. He'd have to ask him later on.
The river was quite pretty in the morning sunlight, even if he wasn't a huge fan of water. He watches the birds fly about and squawk at each other with his arms folded, a slight smile on his lips. He had always liked birds, and seeing them soar through the air suddenly gave him an idea. Cocking his head at the thought, he searches deep inside him for the Song. Yes, it was still there, but it had been quiet and subdued since the fight with the ankhegs yesterday. He stands there for a long few minutes, analyzing his magic. Yes, that would could work...
Finally, he speaks up, sounding contemplative, "Those boats they took must have landed somewhere and left similar marks. I think... I think I could make us all fly for a while. We could fly along the banks of the river and look for similar, uh, 'boat-tracks.'" Looking to Shay, he says as he points down the length of one side of river, "Harold and I could take this direction, and you could take the other direction. Would you be able to get back here by yourself after scouting? You have a bit of magic, but I don't know if you can figure out how to fly back."
He shrugs at his own suggestion. "Of course, if either of you have any better ideas or something else you want to try, I'm all ears."
At Rastrin’s suggestion, Shay takes a moment to turn it over mentally while examining the bank in thought. The idea to fly overhead and look for any more markings isn’t a bad one by any means, and she supposes she could always commune with nature once they met up once again. She pauses before replying as another thought comes to mind.
“I think it’s as good of an idea as any. Though you two can always go off in opposite directions while I stay back and use my connection with nature to better understand where the boats might’ve gone. That is unless flying back is important as far as speed goes, because I can easily wildshape into a bird and return here with little problem.”
Rastrin is pleasantly surprised when he hears that Shay could just turn into a bird or something to do some scouting. That was definitely a useful ability to have. "That's a pretty cool trick!" he remarks. "I guess the only problem with Harold and I going in different directions is that I can't make him fly once the spell wears off and I'm not there." He shrugs again, arms still folded. Shifting his attention to Harold, he asks, "If you and I split up and Shay does something else here, would you be ok with walking all the way back?" Frowning a bit at a thought that crossed his mind, he says, "I guess you would have a hard time looking along the other side of the river if we split up too." With slight grin, he says, "I guess we just hope they didn't disembark on the other side!"
Harold listens Shay and Rastrin discuss ways to scout out the area. Although the merchant was a fairly decent scout in his own way, he wasn't much help scouting a river on foot. "Well I,ve never flown before... as a bird or a person. Those are some mighty impressive skills the two of you have." Harold says with smile. "I am willing to help out in any way you need... but i may need some flying lessons."
"I've never flown either, but it should be an instinctual thing. Hopefully." Rastrin replies after a moment of hesitation. He shifts his weight over to his other foot as a few thoughts run through his head. He had no idea how long his flying spell would work, but he hoped it was for more than a couple of minutes. He also really hoped that 'flying' didn't end up including 'burning' something, but the only way to find out was by doing it.
He reaches out to Harold, and hoping he didn't end up incinerating him, rests his hand on Harold's shoulder. He forces some of his power into the man, and Harold hears a faint rhythm as orange energy seeps out of Rastrin and into Harold. Suddenly, both of them start glowing faintly, wisps of energy resembling flames rising from their bodies as they both rise a few feet off the ground.
"Woah!" he exclaims as he starts to float, his arms flailing out to try to balance himself. This was a most odd experience, but it only takes a few moments for him to orientate himself. He looks around, and on a whim, he wills himself to go a few feet to left. To his surprise, he does so. So that's how this works, the thinks to himself. "I think all you have to do is just think which direction you want to go," he says to Harold.
After a few more small tests, he nods to himself and says to the others as he points down one length of the river, "Well, I'm going to head off this way." A grin tugs at the sides of his mouth at the prospect of soaring through the air like one of the birds swooping nearby. "Guess I'll be back in a bit." With that, he wills himself to fly in the direction he indicated, and then he zooms away much more quickly than he anticipated.
Seeing the two men rise into the air makes Shay glad she isn’t adding to the magical energy being expended and had her own methods. She realizes that her plan to stay and commune with nature as they part ways could negatively impact the two if they go off separately. Making up her mind to go in the opposite direction as the two, she decides to carry on with the initial plan. While she doesn’t wildshape often as it’s something she knows to save for special circumstances, the chance to do so is one she’d rather not pass up.
She calls up to Rastrin and Harold as they adjust to the new vantage point they’re at. “I’ll go South and stay along this part of the shore and when we regroup I’ll commune with nature for any more information that could be of use to us. See you both soon.”
With that, Shay nods in parting to Wit and heads off in her preplanned direction, on the look out for anything that seems to be out of place.
The merchant looks to his shoulder as the dragonborn shares his magic. Where Rastin placed his hand, Harold felt intense heat for a moment before quickly fading away. He rubbed his hand against his still warm clothing before attempting to fly. Harold smiles wide as he slowly begins to feel comfortable with moving above the ground. "This is very impressive..." Harold says to Rastrin with a smile as he gradually rises farther into the air. As his companion begins to fly away, Harold follows quickly behind.
The Yartarin scout, Wit, at first stands oddly transfixed, blinking in confusion when he witnesses all three of his companions take to the silver gray skies, leaving him alone on the riverbank. But a smile of wonderment cracks his face open and he waves his hat before returning to his comrades-at-arms.
RASTRIN AND HAROLD
Rastrin and Harold, embraced by Rastrin’s magic in what feels to Harold like a warm summer updraft, simply lift off the ground and float northward along the riverbank, just at the height of the juniper and oak crowns edging the water.
Several homesteads sit upon either riverbank, including one which seems mostly collapsed due to flooding, where a family of halflings is busy with repairs; and the pair spy between softly rising hills, a small merchant’s caravan on the Larch Road which has just passed the spot where the Yartarin company camped for the night. The caravan’s leader waves a brisk hello to Miss Samitha.
Another mile north, after five minutes of flight, the pair approaches a keelboat flying the colors of Waterdeep heading south upon the Dessarin, four oarsmen toiling on each side. Then, Harold spots a dark shape under the water moving at a brisk pace directly for the keelboat. As he watches and as he and the Dragonborn draw closer, the shape gains definition — an enormous reptile! A giant crocodile, perhaps, completely undetected by the keelboat’s crewmen. And then even more unexpected: a glint of sunlight on metal from the dark shape, now only a few feet underwater.
SHAY
The half-elven Druid, in hawk form, wheels away southward searching for signs of a landing where the prisoners may have been transported. Shay sees several homesteads dotting the hills to either side of the river as clouds hover low over the Sumber Hills. Shay has flown south perhaps five miles and lost sight of her companions when she spots a monastery across the river, the sight of which gives her goosebumps and a sense of black dread for no reason she can express. But as she glides, trying to understand this feeling, quite suddenly from out of the nearest clouds explode a pair of hippogryphs bearing armored riders. They spot Shay and without losing a beat, one of them brings one hand to his mouth and whistles an expert imitation of a hawk’s call, which the hawk part of Shay’s wild-shaped brain identifies as a respectful greeting.
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
It turns out Rastrin thoroughly enjoyed flying. He laughs joyfully as the begins hurtling through the air alongside the river, feeling the air rush past him as he soars on. He enjoys it so much that he almost forgot why he was flying in the first place, but once he realizes that he was enjoying himself too much, he quickly focusses back on the task at hand. There was no point in flying if he forgot that they were looking for tracks along the river. With that thought firmly in mind, he focusses his attention back to the riverbank below.
When he spots the massive reptile in the water, he screeches to a halt in the air. Was that metal it was wearing? He was so surprised to see the beast in the river that he completely forgot how incredibly dangerous it could be to the poor folks in the keelboat paddling along down the river. What was a crocodile doing wearing metal? Was it someone's pet or something?
"Hey Harold," he calls out, his gaze still lingering curiously upon the creature in the water. "Do you see that thing in the water over there? I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."
A large grin was fixed upon the merchants face as they flew above the water. Although he remained focused on their mission, he could not help but let his eyes wander as he looked at the world from a new point of view for the first time. The grin faded however when he noticed the large beast approaching the keelboat. Before he could say anything however, Rastrin beat him to it. "Yeah I see it." Harold replied with a sigh. It seemed that his flight might be cut short and the disappointment in his voice was obvious. "Looks like we better warn them... We may even have to get wet." The merchant grumbled as he started to descend towards the beast.
Once he gets closer, he draws his rapier and points towards the approaching beast. "HEY! Head to shore! A large beast heads your way!" The merchant warns as he flies above the beast. He makes sure to stay at least 15ft above the creature. He then draws his dagger and holds it in his other hand, ready to throw it down at the creature if it gets close enough to the surface..
Soaring through the air, Shay experiences a sense of peace she wishes could hold over long after she’s an elf once again. It sometimes does and for that she’s glad, holding on to the feeling while it lasts.
Below her, she sees the Sumber Hills as well as the multitude of homesteads spread out across them. After a while longer of nothing in particular standing out, she spots a monastery that fills her with immediate trepidation. The cause of it is unclear, which only makes her try and piece it together further. While doing so, she spies a pair of hippogryphs gliding through the clouds close by bearing armored riders. One of them after spotting her makes a bird call that piques the hawk’s interest enough for her to fly closer and get a better look at the duo.
In hawk-form, Shay nears the pair of hippogryph riders. They wear snug uniforms embroidered with a symbol the druid has never seen: an inverted triangle with three lines branching up from it. The uniforms are stitched with leathery flaps that stretch along the arms, waist, and legs, and the men are armed with shields and longswords.
“Hoho! She comes nearer!,” Shay hears the first one shout, pointing at her. “Prithy remember that I speak the hawk’s tongue.” The other man laughs merrily, but soon the pair lose interest in Shay.
“A pity his mount had to die too,” the first one shouts as the pair glide along slowly, seeming to take stock of their surroundings, “for that was a brave beast. I’d trade Petra here for that one any day.”
“Twas a shame,” the second man answers. “But the Griffon Cavalry has no business in our skies. Soon enough the people of Waterdeep will have all the answers they desire. Fie! We’ve come too far east in the clouds. Merosska will be displeased if we tarry. To Feathergale!”
With that, the pair spur their mounts into a steep dive angling south and west, sacrificing altitude for velocity then pulling up low over the hilltops, seeming to take pleasure in raking the treetops. They pass over a homestead and the occupants run indoors in fear.
Following them at a distance, Shay sees the pair pass directly over what appears to be a dead griffon atop a hillock, and a few yards from it, a man wearing the livery of Waterdeep lying motionless on his back, blood drenching his clothing.
HAROLD and RASTIN
Harold draws his dagger and holds it in his other hand, ready to throw it down at the creature if it gets close enough to the surface..
…at least, that is his intention. But the reptile is traveling quickly underwater, accelerating, and before it is within range of Harold, the crocodile has passed just to the right of the keelboat, the far side, shearing the oars into splinters before disappearing into the depths once more.
The boatmen are anxiously shouting, trying to make out what Harold and Rastrin are gesturing about when the oars are sheared, and in that moment, the pair see that several smaller craft are rowing quickly out to the keelboat from where they had been concealed under overhanging willows on a tiny island in the river. And then, the giant reptile reappears from behind the ship, its enormous maw clamping down on the keelboat’s tail and rudder, and as it breaches, you see the metal glint you saw before, upon the creature’s back – but not part of the reptile, but rather its master’s weapon. A fighter mounted on the creature raises her lance high, it glints in the silver light momentarily before she buries it in the heart of the keelboat's pilot. The lizard rider lets out a trilling war whoop, in response to which the armed men and women on the small craft seem to redouble their efforts, their oars whipping the river water into a froth as they close quickly.
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DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver// Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever//Dev Horndin Curious Critters//Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Rastrin gasps in horror as he watches the figure upon the massive crocodile lance the keelboat pilot through their chest, his mind numb with shock. It happened so quickly! He whirls around and looks at Harold, panic evident upon his features. "What do we do?" he cries out in a panic, not thinking clearly in the heat of the moment. "We're too far away to get the others!" He exclaims as he whirls back around to look back upon the battle ensuing upon the river. Wisps of smoke begin to curl from under his clothing as several patches of shirt pants begin to darken and char.
It doesn’t bother Shay when the two riders lose interest in her, but the same isn’t true in her case and she trails behind them in curiosity. What she can gather of their conversation doesn’t sound pleasant at all, made infinitely worse when they go on to destroy treetops by gliding too low down, her first indicator of their disregard for life.
Observing vigilantly, people below hurry inside as they spot the two from above, fear apparent in their voices and clearly written all over their faces. Shay has little time to store this information away as well when they fly over a hillock and she nearly stops mid flight at the horrifying sight of a slaughtered Griffon and its dead rider bearing the mark of Waterdeep on his clothing.
Shay can only stare in shock, wishing more than anything that this callous pair one day paid for their actions in one form or another. Despite wanting to take matters into her own hands and put her talons to good use, she holds back, knowing for the moment at least it wasn’t her objective. She couldn’t promise to hold herself to the same restraint if they crossed paths again.
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SHAY
With the final question being asked, Shay waits with bated breath along with the others. She turns to the corpse of the woman and silently wishes her a peaceful return to her slumber when all was said and done.
The corpse turns an unseeing eye to Rastrin, then to Harold, and finally, slowly, to Marcos. The look seems to grip him like the hand of a giant. The dead woman's voice then voices an answer to the final question as the maggots begin to close in on her face from its edges.
“He who stands here already knows what I would want him to know.”
With that, the wriggling larvae again swarm over her eyes, her nose, into her mouth. But whatever animus was giving her breath to speak — foul though the breath was — has left her, and she sinks to her knees and then down to the ground, face in the mud, as you first found her.
Marcos’ shoulders slump almost imperceptibly. Then like a flash of lightning, he roars, raising his hand and sending a bolt of sizzling golden energy to crack into the cloven carriage, which splinters and shudders before the part the beam struck — a finely varnished door — glows brightly then disintegrates into silver embers.
Marcos' breath comes in and out quickly and deeply until, with visible effort, he regains control of himself. Reluctantly his eyes shift to Harold, Rastrin, and finally Shay. When he speaks, his tone is halting, a strange shadow lengthening away from sunlight. “I did not recognize her until the maggots had left her face," he says, almost in a whisper. "We were… once…” He trails off, takes another deep breath, then strides purposefully to the edge of the dell and there stands alone for several minutes as the graying clouds swirl slowly overhead.
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
Harold
Harold frowns and gives Marcos the space he needs. "It now seems that I am not the only one in this party to have had someone close to them killed by these stone-clad murderers." Harold mutters aloud as he turns his head away from the corpse to watch Marcos stand alone near the dell. After starting blankly at the corpse in front of him for a few moments, he turns away and pulls a flask from inside his jacket. After taking a sip, he breaths in through teeth sharply and clears his throat. "Although you may not want them now, I made you each a snack to hold us over until later today." He adds as he hands out the individually wrapped biscuits.
RASTRIN
Rastrin gives a sympathetic smile to Marcos when he mentions that the woman and he used to be involved with one another. It must certainly be painful to lose close to you like that. He’s about to say something consoling, but rather, he yelps and jumps a bit in surprise as Marcos lashes out at one of the wagons.
Figuring it would be best to give Marcos some room, he sidles up to Shay and Harold. He gratefully takes the proffered biscuit and begins munching on his for a long moment.
Eventually, he asks, “So what now? We found the caravan, but we can’t really do anything about them now. Should we maybe go to the river?” He glances at Shay as he continues. “You could druid us up some info about where they went from there or something,” he says with a shrug. He wasn’t quite sure how her abilities worked, but he did know she had some sort of connection to nature. Or at least that what’s he heard.
SHAY
It’s easy to see the vast amount of pain in Marcos’s expression as the man experiences a brief moment of rage and destroys a carriage. She can’t begin to understand what he feels as he walks to the edge of the dell and remains there to collect himself further. Shay chances a small step in his direction, knowing it likely wouldn’t make much difference, but needing him to know he had allies in them.
“Whoever she was to you before, know that I’m sorry for your loss.” Deciding to leave things at that, Shay follows her companions lead and gives Marcos more space as she joins them a short way off.
She takes the biscuit and stores it away for later, thanking Harold, grateful for the distraction however small it is. Rastrin suggests heading to the river to look into what was left behind and Shay finds herself agreeing since it only made sense to investigate what remained.
”If there’s anything to see, it wouldn’t hurt to at least give it a try. It worked well enough with our ankheg friends.” She looks between the two of them and lowers her voice instinctually despite their distance. “Besides, it might be best we leave Marcos here for a while, he seems like he needs a moment to be properly alone. I’m assuming she was probably his lover in the past.” She goes in the direction of the river with cautious optimism and hears the two trailing closely behind.
Marcos gives no trace of an acknowledgement when Shay offers condolences to him. But just when she is about to rejoin the others, he looks around to her, his dark blue eyes – almost black in the gray light – lift to meet Shay’s and hold them for a long moment. He nods almost imperceptibly before turning away again.
The Dessarin runs deep and wide through the Sumber Hills, and now, in early spring, its waters are ice cold. A strong swimmer can cross it in summer when the temperature is less deadly, but at this time of year, one would have to have a constitution of iron or simply be a fool to make the attempt. Yet, at least, the water does not rush headlong at any point between Waterdeep and Yartar, making the river navigable throughout its first hundred miles. The pull of the river’s flow is not a danger, but the water itself, a capricious giver and taker of life to any who live by its bounty.
While Vaszil remains on the battlefield with Marcos, Wit leads Shay, Rastrin, and Harold along a widened deer trail down the hillside and through the brush. Some fifteen minutes later they reach the riverbank. There is a beach or landing, a rise along the bank, topped by a row of broken trees whose roots could not hold when their grip was worn away by rising water and then tested by winter winds. River trout, turtles, waterfowl, and a few beavers move in the vicinity, not terribly concerned by the presence of the men and woman. A dead oak supports an osprey nest and the raptors take turns in a neighborly battle against a half dozen crows for dibs on the fish tempted too close to the water’s surface by the waterbugs and flies that hover just above it.
At the edge of the landing, Wit points out the grooves in the earth where he says keelboats landed and a set of footsteps preserved in grassy mud along the ridge of the landing. To your eyes, his assessment was exactly correct. But where the boat went after pushing off would be impossible to know based on these signs alone.
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
RASTRIN
Rastrin looks at the river thoughtfully. Now that they were here, hopefully Shay would be able to commune with nature or something like that to figure out where to brigands went. Other than that, he didn't really have any thoughts about what they should do next. They had to figure out where those brigands went. Not only did they butcher an entire delegation of innocent people and took captive those that survived, apparently, they had been terrorizing others for some time now. Harold had some sort of past with them as well, and Rastrin was more than a little bit curious how the merchant came across them. He'd have to ask him later on.
The river was quite pretty in the morning sunlight, even if he wasn't a huge fan of water. He watches the birds fly about and squawk at each other with his arms folded, a slight smile on his lips. He had always liked birds, and seeing them soar through the air suddenly gave him an idea. Cocking his head at the thought, he searches deep inside him for the Song. Yes, it was still there, but it had been quiet and subdued since the fight with the ankhegs yesterday. He stands there for a long few minutes, analyzing his magic. Yes, that would could work...
Finally, he speaks up, sounding contemplative, "Those boats they took must have landed somewhere and left similar marks. I think... I think I could make us all fly for a while. We could fly along the banks of the river and look for similar, uh, 'boat-tracks.'" Looking to Shay, he says as he points down the length of one side of river, "Harold and I could take this direction, and you could take the other direction. Would you be able to get back here by yourself after scouting? You have a bit of magic, but I don't know if you can figure out how to fly back."
He shrugs at his own suggestion. "Of course, if either of you have any better ideas or something else you want to try, I'm all ears."
SHAY
At Rastrin’s suggestion, Shay takes a moment to turn it over mentally while examining the bank in thought. The idea to fly overhead and look for any more markings isn’t a bad one by any means, and she supposes she could always commune with nature once they met up once again. She pauses before replying as another thought comes to mind.
“I think it’s as good of an idea as any. Though you two can always go off in opposite directions while I stay back and use my connection with nature to better understand where the boats might’ve gone. That is unless flying back is important as far as speed goes, because I can easily wildshape into a bird and return here with little problem.”
RASTRIN
Rastrin is pleasantly surprised when he hears that Shay could just turn into a bird or something to do some scouting. That was definitely a useful ability to have. "That's a pretty cool trick!" he remarks. "I guess the only problem with Harold and I going in different directions is that I can't make him fly once the spell wears off and I'm not there." He shrugs again, arms still folded. Shifting his attention to Harold, he asks, "If you and I split up and Shay does something else here, would you be ok with walking all the way back?" Frowning a bit at a thought that crossed his mind, he says, "I guess you would have a hard time looking along the other side of the river if we split up too." With slight grin, he says, "I guess we just hope they didn't disembark on the other side!"
Harold
Harold listens Shay and Rastrin discuss ways to scout out the area. Although the merchant was a fairly decent scout in his own way, he wasn't much help scouting a river on foot. "Well I,ve never flown before... as a bird or a person. Those are some mighty impressive skills the two of you have." Harold says with smile. "I am willing to help out in any way you need... but i may need some flying lessons."
RASTRIN
"I've never flown either, but it should be an instinctual thing. Hopefully." Rastrin replies after a moment of hesitation. He shifts his weight over to his other foot as a few thoughts run through his head. He had no idea how long his flying spell would work, but he hoped it was for more than a couple of minutes. He also really hoped that 'flying' didn't end up including 'burning' something, but the only way to find out was by doing it.
He reaches out to Harold, and hoping he didn't end up incinerating him, rests his hand on Harold's shoulder. He forces some of his power into the man, and Harold hears a faint rhythm as orange energy seeps out of Rastrin and into Harold. Suddenly, both of them start glowing faintly, wisps of energy resembling flames rising from their bodies as they both rise a few feet off the ground.
"Woah!" he exclaims as he starts to float, his arms flailing out to try to balance himself. This was a most odd experience, but it only takes a few moments for him to orientate himself. He looks around, and on a whim, he wills himself to go a few feet to left. To his surprise, he does so. So that's how this works, the thinks to himself. "I think all you have to do is just think which direction you want to go," he says to Harold.
After a few more small tests, he nods to himself and says to the others as he points down one length of the river, "Well, I'm going to head off this way." A grin tugs at the sides of his mouth at the prospect of soaring through the air like one of the birds swooping nearby. "Guess I'll be back in a bit." With that, he wills himself to fly in the direction he indicated, and then he zooms away much more quickly than he anticipated.
SHAY
Seeing the two men rise into the air makes Shay glad she isn’t adding to the magical energy being expended and had her own methods. She realizes that her plan to stay and commune with nature as they part ways could negatively impact the two if they go off separately. Making up her mind to go in the opposite direction as the two, she decides to carry on with the initial plan. While she doesn’t wildshape often as it’s something she knows to save for special circumstances, the chance to do so is one she’d rather not pass up.
She calls up to Rastrin and Harold as they adjust to the new vantage point they’re at. “I’ll go South and stay along this part of the shore and when we regroup I’ll commune with nature for any more information that could be of use to us. See you both soon.”
With that, Shay nods in parting to Wit and heads off in her preplanned direction, on the look out for anything that seems to be out of place.
Harold
The merchant looks to his shoulder as the dragonborn shares his magic. Where Rastin placed his hand, Harold felt intense heat for a moment before quickly fading away. He rubbed his hand against his still warm clothing before attempting to fly. Harold smiles wide as he slowly begins to feel comfortable with moving above the ground. "This is very impressive..." Harold says to Rastrin with a smile as he gradually rises farther into the air. As his companion begins to fly away, Harold follows quickly behind.
The Yartarin scout, Wit, at first stands oddly transfixed, blinking in confusion when he witnesses all three of his companions take to the silver gray skies, leaving him alone on the riverbank. But a smile of wonderment cracks his face open and he waves his hat before returning to his comrades-at-arms.
RASTRIN AND HAROLD
Rastrin and Harold, embraced by Rastrin’s magic in what feels to Harold like a warm summer updraft, simply lift off the ground and float northward along the riverbank, just at the height of the juniper and oak crowns edging the water.
Several homesteads sit upon either riverbank, including one which seems mostly collapsed due to flooding, where a family of halflings is busy with repairs; and the pair spy between softly rising hills, a small merchant’s caravan on the Larch Road which has just passed the spot where the Yartarin company camped for the night. The caravan’s leader waves a brisk hello to Miss Samitha.
Another mile north, after five minutes of flight, the pair approaches a keelboat flying the colors of Waterdeep heading south upon the Dessarin, four oarsmen toiling on each side. Then, Harold spots a dark shape under the water moving at a brisk pace directly for the keelboat. As he watches and as he and the Dragonborn draw closer, the shape gains definition — an enormous reptile! A giant crocodile, perhaps, completely undetected by the keelboat’s crewmen. And then even more unexpected: a glint of sunlight on metal from the dark shape, now only a few feet underwater.
SHAY
The half-elven Druid, in hawk form, wheels away southward searching for signs of a landing where the prisoners may have been transported. Shay sees several homesteads dotting the hills to either side of the river as clouds hover low over the Sumber Hills. Shay has flown south perhaps five miles and lost sight of her companions when she spots a monastery across the river, the sight of which gives her goosebumps and a sense of black dread for no reason she can express. But as she glides, trying to understand this feeling, quite suddenly from out of the nearest clouds explode a pair of hippogryphs bearing armored riders. They spot Shay and without losing a beat, one of them brings one hand to his mouth and whistles an expert imitation of a hawk’s call, which the hawk part of Shay’s wild-shaped brain identifies as a respectful greeting.
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
RASTRIN
It turns out Rastrin thoroughly enjoyed flying. He laughs joyfully as the begins hurtling through the air alongside the river, feeling the air rush past him as he soars on. He enjoys it so much that he almost forgot why he was flying in the first place, but once he realizes that he was enjoying himself too much, he quickly focusses back on the task at hand. There was no point in flying if he forgot that they were looking for tracks along the river. With that thought firmly in mind, he focusses his attention back to the riverbank below.
When he spots the massive reptile in the water, he screeches to a halt in the air. Was that metal it was wearing? He was so surprised to see the beast in the river that he completely forgot how incredibly dangerous it could be to the poor folks in the keelboat paddling along down the river. What was a crocodile doing wearing metal? Was it someone's pet or something?
"Hey Harold," he calls out, his gaze still lingering curiously upon the creature in the water. "Do you see that thing in the water over there? I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."
Harold
A large grin was fixed upon the merchants face as they flew above the water. Although he remained focused on their mission, he could not help but let his eyes wander as he looked at the world from a new point of view for the first time. The grin faded however when he noticed the large beast approaching the keelboat. Before he could say anything however, Rastrin beat him to it. "Yeah I see it." Harold replied with a sigh. It seemed that his flight might be cut short and the disappointment in his voice was obvious. "Looks like we better warn them... We may even have to get wet." The merchant grumbled as he started to descend towards the beast.
Once he gets closer, he draws his rapier and points towards the approaching beast. "HEY! Head to shore! A large beast heads your way!" The merchant warns as he flies above the beast. He makes sure to stay at least 15ft above the creature. He then draws his dagger and holds it in his other hand, ready to throw it down at the creature if it gets close enough to the surface..
SHAY
Soaring through the air, Shay experiences a sense of peace she wishes could hold over long after she’s an elf once again. It sometimes does and for that she’s glad, holding on to the feeling while it lasts.
Below her, she sees the Sumber Hills as well as the multitude of homesteads spread out across them. After a while longer of nothing in particular standing out, she spots a monastery that fills her with immediate trepidation. The cause of it is unclear, which only makes her try and piece it together further. While doing so, she spies a pair of hippogryphs gliding through the clouds close by bearing armored riders. One of them after spotting her makes a bird call that piques the hawk’s interest enough for her to fly closer and get a better look at the duo.
SHAY
In hawk-form, Shay nears the pair of hippogryph riders. They wear snug uniforms embroidered with a symbol the druid has never seen: an inverted triangle with three lines branching up from it. The uniforms are stitched with leathery flaps that stretch along the arms, waist, and legs, and the men are armed with shields and longswords.
“Hoho! She comes nearer!,” Shay hears the first one shout, pointing at her. “Prithy remember that I speak the hawk’s tongue.” The other man laughs merrily, but soon the pair lose interest in Shay.
“A pity his mount had to die too,” the first one shouts as the pair glide along slowly, seeming to take stock of their surroundings, “for that was a brave beast. I’d trade Petra here for that one any day.”
“Twas a shame,” the second man answers. “But the Griffon Cavalry has no business in our skies. Soon enough the people of Waterdeep will have all the answers they desire. Fie! We’ve come too far east in the clouds. Merosska will be displeased if we tarry. To Feathergale!”
With that, the pair spur their mounts into a steep dive angling south and west, sacrificing altitude for velocity then pulling up low over the hilltops, seeming to take pleasure in raking the treetops. They pass over a homestead and the occupants run indoors in fear.
Following them at a distance, Shay sees the pair pass directly over what appears to be a dead griffon atop a hillock, and a few yards from it, a man wearing the livery of Waterdeep lying motionless on his back, blood drenching his clothing.
HAROLD and RASTIN
Harold draws his dagger and holds it in his other hand, ready to throw it down at the creature if it gets close enough to the surface..
…at least, that is his intention. But the reptile is traveling quickly underwater, accelerating, and before it is within range of Harold, the crocodile has passed just to the right of the keelboat, the far side, shearing the oars into splinters before disappearing into the depths once more.
The boatmen are anxiously shouting, trying to make out what Harold and Rastrin are gesturing about when the oars are sheared, and in that moment, the pair see that several smaller craft are rowing quickly out to the keelboat from where they had been concealed under overhanging willows on a tiny island in the river. And then, the giant reptile reappears from behind the ship, its enormous maw clamping down on the keelboat’s tail and rudder, and as it breaches, you see the metal glint you saw before, upon the creature’s back – but not part of the reptile, but rather its master’s weapon. A fighter mounted on the creature raises her lance high, it glints in the silver light momentarily before she buries it in the heart of the keelboat's pilot. The lizard rider lets out a trilling war whoop, in response to which the armed men and women on the small craft seem to redouble their efforts, their oars whipping the river water into a froth as they close quickly.
DM for Deathworld: Lost Mine of Phandelver // Story Guide for COYOTE and CROW: Cahokia Forever // Dev Hornd in Curious Critters // Co-creator: Princes of the Apocalypse - A DnD Story
RASTRIN
Rastrin gasps in horror as he watches the figure upon the massive crocodile lance the keelboat pilot through their chest, his mind numb with shock. It happened so quickly! He whirls around and looks at Harold, panic evident upon his features. "What do we do?" he cries out in a panic, not thinking clearly in the heat of the moment. "We're too far away to get the others!" He exclaims as he whirls back around to look back upon the battle ensuing upon the river. Wisps of smoke begin to curl from under his clothing as several patches of shirt pants begin to darken and char.
SHAY
It doesn’t bother Shay when the two riders lose interest in her, but the same isn’t true in her case and she trails behind them in curiosity. What she can gather of their conversation doesn’t sound pleasant at all, made infinitely worse when they go on to destroy treetops by gliding too low down, her first indicator of their disregard for life.
Observing vigilantly, people below hurry inside as they spot the two from above, fear apparent in their voices and clearly written all over their faces. Shay has little time to store this information away as well when they fly over a hillock and she nearly stops mid flight at the horrifying sight of a slaughtered Griffon and its dead rider bearing the mark of Waterdeep on his clothing.
Shay can only stare in shock, wishing more than anything that this callous pair one day paid for their actions in one form or another. Despite wanting to take matters into her own hands and put her talons to good use, she holds back, knowing for the moment at least it wasn’t her objective. She couldn’t promise to hold herself to the same restraint if they crossed paths again.