You hear a quiet rustling and a weasel slithers in, scratches a bit and turns back in the big stuttering orc.
"Oh boy, oh my they are planning, yes planning to attack nearby village of, of South Fork. They, they will do it on full moon. (7 survival to know when it is) Also, also there is another tribe, another party. Led by Rat Lord. Do, you know no, do you recall such person, such entity? They seem to rely in his power a lot. And, and the Nox (Which we read about in the outpost?), an arcanist, no a wizard of kobold kind. Does magic to goblins."
Sits down, takes a drink and continues: "There are many warriors, too many for us to take, I, I think, no I know that we can't take them on. We, we should warn the village!"
As the heroes discuss what had been learned during the druid's recon efforts, the merchant caravan concluded their business and began to drive their wagons away.
The area outside of the Shadowfang caverns resumed a more normal level of activity. The ogres, done with their manual labor, disappeared within the caverns. As did the mysterious man who had been dealing face-to-face with the merchants. Of the two dozen or so goblins that had been outside to greet (and harass) the caravan ... most went back into the caverns. Only about six remained behind on guard duty.
Rinn listens to his orc friend, frowning as he hears that these beasts plan to attack another village. He growls a bit and swears in his Elvish mother tongue under his breath.
He likewise tries to recall when the next new moon will be (Survival: 5+3 = 8. Very on-brand for the Low Rollers), but can't seem to recall much from his studies of astronomy.
He tries to recall if he remembers something about a Rat King based, trying to remember if there's anything in local legend or histories (History: 15 + 3 = 18).
He looks at the others and says, "I for one agree with Toadstool. I don't want to chance us dying by trying to take out the war camp directly. It's possible that we could pick off a few, but I think that our lives are not worth the overall small dent we would be likely to cause in the goblinoid hoards. I think it's best to warn this village of the upcoming assault. It's possible that, with sufficient preparation, they could fend off the attack."
"About this Rat King," continues the elf, always one to be opinionated and to share said opinions, "I think that its possible that this Rat King and Nox are the same individual, or at least whom they lend this Nox from, since it seems like they're both associated with magic."
Agnes wraps her arms around Toadstool in a warm hug. "I"s so worried, I thought they might've made skewered weasel fer supper! Great work!" She picks up a stick and draws a circular moon chart in the dirt, counting the days. "I think I know exactly when that full moon'll be!"
She listens to Rinn talk of the Rat King. "Whether or not Nox 'n th'Rat King's the same person, based on what the gobs's sayin', it sounds like the Rat King's loyalty might be questionable. I wonder what he wants, 'n I wonder if he could be persuaded either to turn against the gobs, or at least to leave their alliance."
Toadstool is not used to hugging, but returns it. It's not often you get a hug from an orc and not get your bones broken.
"Um, regardless of what we do, I, I think we should talk to the caravan, yes, caravan. The traders did not seem to like goblins, did not like at all. Maybe they know something"
"Maybe so," Yaudara offers. "They won't travel as fast as us, so perhaps we could work our way around the goblins and catch up with them when they camp for the night." He looks at the parry. "Those of you who know, is the caravan headed in the direction of South Fork, or would catching the caravan hurt our chances of warning the village before these vermin attack? Saving lives should be a high priority."
Rinn watches Agnes sketch on the ground, and nods in understanding, muttering to himself that he should definitely have remembered this. Perhaps he needs to spend some time soon reviewing such matters...but this is not the time for such things.
"I tend to agree with Yaudara about this matter," says Rinn, "while I think that the merchants are a good opportunity, I think that ultimately, warning the village has a guarantee to save some lives...while befriending the merchants will only result in an increased odds of doing just the same. Unfortunately, I'm still new to the region, and do not know of this village of South Fork. I don't recall hearing of such a place while in Havenford."
"Though," says Rinn thoughtfully, "perhaps befriending the traders would allow us to know more about the goblins, their plans, and also where this South Fork is. A traveling merchant troupe would know the region well, after all, and you're right in saying that they certainly did not seem to get along well with the war band."
Toadstool thinks for a moment: "I can turn myself, yes turn into a wolf or, or something of that kind to track them easily, it will be very easy. If, if, you agree, I can pick up their scent, their smell"
"Oof!" Agnes loses her breath as the massive orcs hugs her, though for him she is sure it was a very gentle hug. "That sounds about right. Traveling merchants is sure to know the lay of the land. We can follow up on the Rat Lord and the goblins straight after."
"Brilliant idea," nods Rinn and smiles at his orc friend, "you certainly have saved the day today, and I think that will work splendidly."
As he's saying this, the small tressym familiar is nuzzling the big orc's leg in thanks.
"Rachael also says that you've been brilliant, Toadstool," explains Rinn and then shifts his attention to Agnes, saying, "Yes, I think that's what we should do. Unless anyone knows where this South Fork is, then we will have to win these merchants over. Perhaps they will have a more detailed map of the region, or even an understanding of the goblins or this Rat King that would help us foil their conquest."
The party tracked the merchants for the next few hours. With Toadstool's keen senses to aid them, following the trail of the horses and wagons was unmistakable.
The sun dipped toward the horizon, and painted the afternoon sky with hues of orange and purple. The heroes finally caught up with the wagons and found the merchants as they set camp for the evening.
The camp was a vibrant contrast to the surrounding wilderness. Colorful wagons, adorned with intricate patterns and symbols, formed a loose circle around a central fire. The sound of soft laughter and the occasional sound of a violin mingled with the crackling of the fire, creating an almost surreal ambiance.
A tall man, dressed in a richly embroidered vest and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, stepped forward. His smile was welcoming, yet his eyes held a hint of caution. The rest of the nomadic merchants — about eight or so, most of them human, but a few halflings as well — went about their business without making too much fuss over their new guests.
"Greetings, travelers." He called out, his voice smooth and warm. "I see you evaded the goblins after all."
"I am the one known as Arturi. What brings you to our humble camp on this fine evening?"
Toadstool waves awkwardly: "Uhm, greetings, yes hello Arturi. Some call me Toadstool, yes that is my name. We oh we come to talk and, and trade maybe. Definitely eat."
As he says that, he extends his massive palm and conjures some goodberries. Puts one in his mouth: "A gift for, for the host"
The tall merchant's smile widened slightly, but the wariness in his eyes did not diminish. With a wave and a shake of the head, he politely declined the offer to eat the orc's conjured food.
He gestured for the party to join them by the fire. "Come, sit. Share our fire. We Vistani are always willing to trade stories and knowledge, for the right price."
As the heroes settled around the fire, they couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, not just by the Vistani, but by the surrounding forest itself. The atmosphere had become thick with intrigue, with the potential for both friendship and betrayal.
Yaudara smiles as he settles in around the campfire. "Thank you for your hospitality. I am Yaudara, a champion of Torm, who has journeyed far from my native Ekhaya in service of my god, and to aid folk wherever I find them. As a stranger to these lands, I'm unfamiliar with the Vistani. Please enlighten me of your history and people."
He'll keep a casual eye on the surrounding forest but give them the benefit of the doubt for now. They were trading with goblins, after all, but perhaps such is life on the frontier.
Toadstool is a bit upset that again noone wants his berries, but then again - he is a menacing ork. He joins the campfire and seems rather joyful. This in-the-wild setting makes him feel like at home, so he speaks very freely and calmly for a change. At this point Toadstool has nothing to worry about, because he too trades with goblins from time to time.
"Umm prices and currency, money is not my thing, not at all, but, but stories and knowledge - that is something I trade a lot. I, I might have some great stories to tell yes. Knowledge too. But me, as my friend, have no knowledge of Vistani. That would be a nice story."
"Ah, hello, Arturi. I'm Agnes Blum! Of the traveling Blums. Mayhaps ya heard of us?" Agnes inhales deeply and sighs with relief. Although she knows they should be on guard, the decorated wagons, colorful clothing, and bonfires bring her a sense of familiarity and comfort. Similarities to her own nomadic people and way of life put her at ease. She takes a seat by the fire and begins braiding her long hair. "I do love stories, hearin' 'n tellin'" she adds suggestively, hinting at the possibility of telling one for another.
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You hear a quiet rustling and a weasel slithers in, scratches a bit and turns back in the big stuttering orc.
"Oh boy, oh my they are planning, yes planning to attack nearby village of, of South Fork. They, they will do it on full moon. (7 survival to know when it is) Also, also there is another tribe, another party. Led by Rat Lord. Do, you know no, do you recall such person, such entity? They seem to rely in his power a lot. And, and the Nox (Which we read about in the outpost?), an arcanist, no a wizard of kobold kind. Does magic to goblins."
Sits down, takes a drink and continues: "There are many warriors, too many for us to take, I, I think, no I know that we can't take them on. We, we should warn the village!"
As the heroes discuss what had been learned during the druid's recon efforts, the merchant caravan concluded their business and began to drive their wagons away.
The area outside of the Shadowfang caverns resumed a more normal level of activity. The ogres, done with their manual labor, disappeared within the caverns. As did the mysterious man who had been dealing face-to-face with the merchants. Of the two dozen or so goblins that had been outside to greet (and harass) the caravan ... most went back into the caverns. Only about six remained behind on guard duty.
Rinn listens to his orc friend, frowning as he hears that these beasts plan to attack another village. He growls a bit and swears in his Elvish mother tongue under his breath.
He likewise tries to recall when the next new moon will be (Survival: 5+3 = 8. Very on-brand for the Low Rollers), but can't seem to recall much from his studies of astronomy.
He tries to recall if he remembers something about a Rat King based, trying to remember if there's anything in local legend or histories (History: 15 + 3 = 18).
He looks at the others and says, "I for one agree with Toadstool. I don't want to chance us dying by trying to take out the war camp directly. It's possible that we could pick off a few, but I think that our lives are not worth the overall small dent we would be likely to cause in the goblinoid hoards. I think it's best to warn this village of the upcoming assault. It's possible that, with sufficient preparation, they could fend off the attack."
"About this Rat King," continues the elf, always one to be opinionated and to share said opinions, "I think that its possible that this Rat King and Nox are the same individual, or at least whom they lend this Nox from, since it seems like they're both associated with magic."
History: 10+0=10 | Survival: 19+3=22
Agnes wraps her arms around Toadstool in a warm hug. "I"s so worried, I thought they might've made skewered weasel fer supper! Great work!" She picks up a stick and draws a circular moon chart in the dirt, counting the days. "I think I know exactly when that full moon'll be!"
She listens to Rinn talk of the Rat King. "Whether or not Nox 'n th'Rat King's the same person, based on what the gobs's sayin', it sounds like the Rat King's loyalty might be questionable. I wonder what he wants, 'n I wonder if he could be persuaded either to turn against the gobs, or at least to leave their alliance."
Toadstool is not used to hugging, but returns it. It's not often you get a hug from an orc and not get your bones broken.
"Um, regardless of what we do, I, I think we should talk to the caravan, yes, caravan. The traders did not seem to like goblins, did not like at all. Maybe they know something"
"Maybe so," Yaudara offers. "They won't travel as fast as us, so perhaps we could work our way around the goblins and catch up with them when they camp for the night." He looks at the parry. "Those of you who know, is the caravan headed in the direction of South Fork, or would catching the caravan hurt our chances of warning the village before these vermin attack? Saving lives should be a high priority."
Rinn watches Agnes sketch on the ground, and nods in understanding, muttering to himself that he should definitely have remembered this. Perhaps he needs to spend some time soon reviewing such matters...but this is not the time for such things.
"I tend to agree with Yaudara about this matter," says Rinn, "while I think that the merchants are a good opportunity, I think that ultimately, warning the village has a guarantee to save some lives...while befriending the merchants will only result in an increased odds of doing just the same. Unfortunately, I'm still new to the region, and do not know of this village of South Fork. I don't recall hearing of such a place while in Havenford."
(Intelligence role: 7+5 = 12).
"Though," says Rinn thoughtfully, "perhaps befriending the traders would allow us to know more about the goblins, their plans, and also where this South Fork is. A traveling merchant troupe would know the region well, after all, and you're right in saying that they certainly did not seem to get along well with the war band."
Yaudara nods. "That could work, if we can catch up to them."
Toadstool thinks for a moment: "I can turn myself, yes turn into a wolf or, or something of that kind to track them easily, it will be very easy. If, if, you agree, I can pick up their scent, their smell"
"Oof!" Agnes loses her breath as the massive orcs hugs her, though for him she is sure it was a very gentle hug. "That sounds about right. Traveling merchants is sure to know the lay of the land. We can follow up on the Rat Lord and the goblins straight after."
"Brilliant idea," nods Rinn and smiles at his orc friend, "you certainly have saved the day today, and I think that will work splendidly."
As he's saying this, the small tressym familiar is nuzzling the big orc's leg in thanks.
"Rachael also says that you've been brilliant, Toadstool," explains Rinn and then shifts his attention to Agnes, saying, "Yes, I think that's what we should do. Unless anyone knows where this South Fork is, then we will have to win these merchants over. Perhaps they will have a more detailed map of the region, or even an understanding of the goblins or this Rat King that would help us foil their conquest."
Toadstool thinks for a moment and turns into a Dire wolf and starts sniffing around to find the tracks of the merchants.
Perception (smell based) check with advantage due to keen smell. Nat20 + 5 = 25.
Once he picks up the tracks, he does the point with leg thing.
The party tracked the merchants for the next few hours. With Toadstool's keen senses to aid them, following the trail of the horses and wagons was unmistakable.
The sun dipped toward the horizon, and painted the afternoon sky with hues of orange and purple. The heroes finally caught up with the wagons and found the merchants as they set camp for the evening.
The camp was a vibrant contrast to the surrounding wilderness. Colorful wagons, adorned with intricate patterns and symbols, formed a loose circle around a central fire. The sound of soft laughter and the occasional sound of a violin mingled with the crackling of the fire, creating an almost surreal ambiance.
A tall man, dressed in a richly embroidered vest and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, stepped forward. His smile was welcoming, yet his eyes held a hint of caution. The rest of the nomadic merchants — about eight or so, most of them human, but a few halflings as well — went about their business without making too much fuss over their new guests.
"Greetings, travelers." He called out, his voice smooth and warm. "I see you evaded the goblins after all."
"I am the one known as Arturi. What brings you to our humble camp on this fine evening?"
Toadstool waves awkwardly: "Uhm, greetings, yes hello Arturi. Some call me Toadstool, yes that is my name. We oh we come to talk and, and trade maybe. Definitely eat."
As he says that, he extends his massive palm and conjures some goodberries. Puts one in his mouth: "A gift for, for the host"
Yaudara will smile at Toadstool's introduction, and remain silent and observant for now.
The tall merchant's smile widened slightly, but the wariness in his eyes did not diminish. With a wave and a shake of the head, he politely declined the offer to eat the orc's conjured food.
He gestured for the party to join them by the fire. "Come, sit. Share our fire. We Vistani are always willing to trade stories and knowledge, for the right price."
As the heroes settled around the fire, they couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, not just by the Vistani, but by the surrounding forest itself. The atmosphere had become thick with intrigue, with the potential for both friendship and betrayal.
Yaudara smiles as he settles in around the campfire. "Thank you for your hospitality. I am Yaudara, a champion of Torm, who has journeyed far from my native Ekhaya in service of my god, and to aid folk wherever I find them. As a stranger to these lands, I'm unfamiliar with the Vistani. Please enlighten me of your history and people."
He'll keep a casual eye on the surrounding forest but give them the benefit of the doubt for now. They were trading with goblins, after all, but perhaps such is life on the frontier.
Toadstool is a bit upset that again noone wants his berries, but then again - he is a menacing ork. He joins the campfire and seems rather joyful. This in-the-wild setting makes him feel like at home, so he speaks very freely and calmly for a change. At this point Toadstool has nothing to worry about, because he too trades with goblins from time to time.
"Umm prices and currency, money is not my thing, not at all, but, but stories and knowledge - that is something I trade a lot. I, I might have some great stories to tell yes. Knowledge too. But me, as my friend, have no knowledge of Vistani. That would be a nice story."
"Ah, hello, Arturi. I'm Agnes Blum! Of the traveling Blums. Mayhaps ya heard of us?" Agnes inhales deeply and sighs with relief. Although she knows they should be on guard, the decorated wagons, colorful clothing, and bonfires bring her a sense of familiarity and comfort. Similarities to her own nomadic people and way of life put her at ease. She takes a seat by the fire and begins braiding her long hair. "I do love stories, hearin' 'n tellin'" she adds suggestively, hinting at the possibility of telling one for another.