21 March (Continued)

Bhavik led the party through the eastern passage, peering inside the chamber beyond. Several passages branched away from the large, high-ceilinged cavern. To the north, a ten-foot wide, square-mouthed tunnel showed signs that someone or something had been at work in the caves. A strong gate of rough-hew timber blocked a small passage to the northeast, and three other passageways wound off towards the south. A heavy, animal smell lingered in the air. The warden noticed a pair of figured crouched in the shadows along the chamber walls, and alerted the others to the threat.

Aramis illuminated the room with a sunrod then struck the green-scaled lizardfolk lurking along the south wall with a brilliant lance of faith. Bhavik moved up to the target of Aramis’s assault and tricked the creature into giving up its guard, striking it in the head with a devastating attack of his own. Azal moved to engage the other lurking lizardfolk, just missing it with a toss of her enchanted dagger. The startled creatures attempted an ineffectual counterattack before the tiefling’s target rushed over and shoved the wooden gate open and cried out in Draconic. A bulky, black-scaled lizardfolk lumbered out the gate and slammed into Azal with a greatclub so large that might once have been the trunk of a tree. She staggered back a couple of steps from the impact of the bruiser’s blow.

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21 March (Continued)

Crossing the bridge, the heroes returned through the narrow tunnel to the chamber of the one-eyed orc shaman. The bodies had been removed from the chamber, as evidenced by the bloodstained drag marks on the stone floor. Noting this, Bhavik said, “We should be cautious.” The key still jutted from the door to the north, and once they were all ready, the warden turned it and pushed open the stone portal.

The ceiling soared thirty feet high in the center of the impressive chamber beyond, and the walls were carved in images of dwarves at their forges. Another stone door on stood on the far north wall, opposite the one they’d just entered. Several old skeletons lay scattered near the northern door, and a gate of wrought iron stands in the western wall. They could see the straw of the mattresses and other detritus piled up against the opposite side of the iron gate.

In the center of the floor, a natural rift descended sharply, and dozens of stone steps led down into darkness. From far below they could hear the distant sound of running water and a curious buzzing sound.

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20 March (Continued)

The heroes returned to the orc commons, where haphazard stacks of crates, barrels, sacks, and bundles littered a long, narrow cavern. The moved cautiously south toward the old well filled of murky water. Finding the space unoccupied, they began to poke around the orcs’ loot. Bhavik found a small locked strongbox wedged between a couple of boxes containing a vial of holy water and some gold coins. Aramis discovered that the crates stacked in the northeast corner seemed to be blocking a passage. Nodding to Aramis, Bhavik said, “We should head to the passage beyond those boxes, see what the orcs are hiding.”

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20 March (Continued)

After they’d caught their breath and Aramis had healed their injuries with prayers to the Raven Queen, the heroes crossed the bridge once more and approached the wooden doors. Bhavik removed the makeshift barricade they’d hastily erected and they cautiously opened the doors to reveal the tunnel beyond. It opened into a natural cavern with carefully smoothed walls and floor. Wet stone gleamed, and at least four exits were visible, leading off into darkness. Red coals glowed in the gloom of the far right-hand passageway, and crude wooden bars blocked the closer right-hand passageway. The room was littered with orcish sleeping furs, loot, and rubbish.

Bhavik moved to the wooden bars and peered through. A row of rough-hewn sapling trunks formed a crude but serviceable cage across the mouth of a small cave. A door locked with an iron padlock secured the room. Inside, he saw two figures lying on rough pallets. “There seems to be someone over here,” he observed.

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19 March (Continued)

Bhavik found Azal back at the Griffon’s Nest, absorbed in one of Belak’s Journals again. As he sat at her table, she passed a pair of parchments across to him and he looked them over. They appeared to be requests for help with rewards attached. The first was from a Baron Althon, offering a reward for weapons with the mark of Durgeddin the Black – crudely depicted on the bottom of the page. Perhaps, mused the shifter, this was why Sister Alonsa had seemed hesitant to help them find the Stone Tooth. The other bill was a bounty from Sir Miles Berrick – the mayor of Blasingdell – for the orcs harassing the populace. The creatures were thought to be holing up in the hills north of the town, and hearsay placed them in the Stone Tooth itself. The warden sighed and tucked the pages away, ordering a meal and a drink to wash it down.

After a few minutes, two middle-aged men – a pair of shifters – eyed Bhavik appraisingly from a nearby table. “Thought I knew everyone around here,” said the older one. “Are you not of the tribe? Tell me, boy. Who is your father?”

“I am Bhavik,” the warden said, avoiding the question. “Who are the two of you?”

“Akar,” answered the same man. “This is my brother Wanza.” The other man nodded in acknowledgement.

“Well met then. It is my mother through whom I would be known, and her name is Akuti,” said Bhavik, not without pride.

The men scowled and looked at the young man skeptically. “Really,” Wanza said. “Never heard that traitor shat out any brats ‘fore Karma caught her up and the Great Ulfe had his revenge.” Akar frowned at his brother’s choice of words, but he didn’t say anything more.

In a cold voice Bhavik said, “This establishment, I fear, is not fit for the conversation we should be having now. Is there somewhere less crowded the two of you would like to continue this?” He stood slowly, staring down his new acquaintances.

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19 March, 103 CY

The adventurers arrived in Blasingdell, late afternoon. It had been raining most of the day, but the three had been quiet even before the weather turned bad, each lost in their own thoughts. The sight and even the smell of the mining town was a welcome break from the wearying travel. Erky Timbers, who’d come with them in the hopes of setting up shop in the town as a professional alchemist thanked them for the escort and broke company with them to seek his contacts. The adventurers then approached a three story stone and wood structure with balconies ringing the outer walls. The image of a griffon rampant facing a clutch of eggs adorned the sign-board hanging over the front entrance. The three entered the building and shook off the rain.

A local woman welcomed them to the Griffon’s Nest, introducing herself as Helda, and seeing the three to an empty table amongst the locals. She took their orders and saw them filled swiftly. With food and drink in them, Aramis thought to ask about his sister in law. He described Iva to the bar wench, but she claimed not to have seen anyone matching the description. Dejected, Aramis lapsed back into silence for the rest of the meal.

After they’d finished eating, they ordered a round of drinks and started asking the nearby locals about the Stone Tooth. After a few drinks and some amiable conversation, a man called Tomms suggested they try either the Scholar’s Nook or Moradin’s Forge. The bookshop, he explained, was owned by a man called Ashrem Dewitt, and the temple was headed by Sister Alonsa, a priestess of the Allfather and descendant of Durgeddin the Black.

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by Darth Krzysztof, from a conversation with godfear

Aramis left House Hucrele for the shrine, quickly told Sister Corkie where he was going, then set off for the ranch.

He arrived a few hours later at the ranch house. No one was in sight, but that was hardly unusual. Probably out in the fields, he thought. “Sheep don’t herd themselves,” his father was fond of saying. Well, Mother or Iva might be inside… He shifted the weight of his pack and went up to the house. It was strange to knock on the door, after all his years of living inside, but he felt it best. “Hello?” he called. “Anyone home?”

“Aramis?” his mother’s voice answered from inside.

“Yes, Mother. I’m back.”

The door opened to reveal Amerie Shepherd, holding little Henri. Her eyes seemed wide at the sight of her son. After realizing that she was staring, she said “Come in, sweetheart. I wasn’t sure when to expect you back.” She stepped aside to let him in.

“Thank you.” He walked to the table and set his pack down against one of the legs, but didn’t sit down yet. He could already tell that something was wrong.

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by godfear

Dinner had been…awkward.

After Aramis had gone off to speak with the Hucrele girl alone, Bhavik had made a hasty departure. Azal told the warden that she was returning to the shrine, but he wasn’t entirely comfortable in such close quarters with the tiefling and her afflicted…lover? Bhavik wasn’t entirely sure what the relationship was, but it seemed intimate, and he felt like an intruder to a private conversation, even when she was just sitting hear the young man. He’d asked Madame Hucrele’s maid where he might find lodging, and the girl had directed him to the Ol’ Boar Inn.

He pushed through the door and entered a rustic common room with a handful of what he guessed must be farmers. A bear of a human man stood behind the bar idly cleaning a well-used mug, and he looked up as Bhavik entered. “Ain’t seen you here before,” said the barkeep while fixing an appraising eye on the shifter. “Welcome to the Ol’ Boar. Name’s Garon. What can I get fer ye?”

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by Darth Krzysztof

When dinner ended, Sharwyn asked Aramis to stay and talk. To her relief, the cleric agreed, saying she needed to hear what he had to say, too. He followed her up the stairs and out onto the second story deck, where they could see the sinking sun, take in the cool air of early evening, and stay out of everyone’s way.

She took a chair next to the railing, and Aramis pulled another chair close to hers before sitting in it. He leaned forward and locked his eyes on her, saying “What’s on your mind?” in that calm, smooth voice she knew so well.

That won’t do, she thought, and said “You go first.”

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15 March (Continued)

Aramis smothered his flaming mantle and Azal helped out. “Are you okay?” she said.

“Fine,” he lied. With the fire extinguished, he looked around the room once more to consider its contents. “Anything else interesting in here?” he asked. Then he spotted a row of several brown-leather bound tomes with their spines marked with the letters “K D” and pulled one off the shelf from the center. Scanning its contents, the priest determined it to be some sort of journal dated 97 CY. Scribblings and formulas related to botanical experiments, fertilizer, philosophy, and several references of the name “Gulthias.”

Azal, who’d been peeking over the cleric’s shoulder pointed at the name and Aramis nodded. “The tree that produces the healing fruit is called the Gulthias Tree. Maybe it’s named after a person?” He returned the volume to the shelf and said, “We can look at these later.”

Bhavik nodded, “We should go.” He glanced out the door to the south. “I think we’re close. Very close.”

“Yes,” intoned the priest. “South seems to be our path.”

Azal concurred, “The quicker we get there the better.”

Bhavik led the group out of the study filled with nature’s lore and crossed the chamber to the south, warily surveying they grove before them, sword in hand. Aramis held the sunrod high to illuminate the area. Pale, spindly briars coated with tiny barbs pressed close. The violet light above cast nauseating shadows on the earthen floor, creating the illusion of movement among the branches, though no wind blew there.

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