Trouble in Estamere

[Dice Gremlin]

Trouble in Estamere

https://i.redd.it/50sp5abuj3h01.jpg

The village of Estamere is, by all appearances, a peaceful and idyllic little hamlet nestled in the foothills of the Moonfall Mountains. It holds the honor of being the western most village on the boarders of the Kingdom of Valemar, standing as the last beacon of civilization on the frontier of the wild lands. It's inhabitants are stout hearted settlers who ventured here to escape the bustling politics of at the heart of the kingdom, and they lead quiet lives as shepherds, farmers, woodsman and hunters. Estamere's isolated location keeps it safe from many of the troubles that often plague small villages closer to the populated trade roads of the kingdom, but it also makes it difficult for them to call for aid when they need it. Hence why it is a full two weeks after the fateful goblin attack that a group of adventurers finally approach the village.

The narrow dirt road that is the only traveled path to Estamere, is wet and muddy underfoot from the early spring rains and the snow melt running down from the mountains. The river that runs parallel to the road is swollen and running fast, filling the air with the splashing and babbling of the water as it tumbles over rocks and down shallow falls. The wilderness threatens to overgrow the road on either side, sometimes making the path indistinct, and a plethora of squirrels, rabbits and the occasional wandering deer are often seen among the trees as the adventurer's pass by. The sun has only just topped the towering mountain peaks on the horizon, and the lilting songs of the morning birds can still be heard from the tall boughs of the trees. Truly the only thing that mars the tranquil and beautiful morning is the grim business that brings these hardy heroes to Estamere in the first place.

When Estamere comes into sight, the adventurers see that it is a cluster of small buildings built of wood and horse hair plaster, with roofs of thatch. Surrounding the village is the crumbling stone wall and lone tower of what must have once been a fort in the ancient days of the Rylliard Empire. Besides the ancient watchtower, there are only two other buildings in the village that appear to have been build from field stone with and have sturdy wooden roofs. One is clearly a church and is by far the largest building in the village. The two story steeple stands proudly above the other buildings and has been decorated with the rearing unicorn symbol of Ehlonna made from polished marble stone. The second stone building appears to be a local meeting house that also serves as a tavern. A hand painted sign hanging out front proclaims the establishment as The Lonely Sow.

The arrival of the adventurers has preceded them, as they passed the meadows of grazing sheep and goats and saw the children of the shepherds run ahead to the village with news of their approach. When the adventurer's reach the village proper, they find a small group of people awaiting them on the steps of the church. At the lead is a tall, middle aged human with dark hair and a rough beard. He carries himself with the confidence of a leader, and the bow and quiver across his back proclaim him as a hunter. However, it is the patch sewn onto the his padded armor that marks him as the leader of Estamere. The patch bears the crest of House Gallard, making him a Warden under the Baron William Gallard. As the group of adventurer's approach, the Warden steps forward and greets them, "Welcome to Estamere. I am Warden Alder Gallias. This is Sister Ingwen of the church, and Master Theodore Bromley," he introduces himself and the two people who accompany him.

Sister Ingwen is an elven woman who encompasses all the beauty and grace of her people. She stands only an inch or two shorter than Warden Gallias, and is adorned in the earth tone robes of Ehlonna's clergy. Her raven hair is long and straight, hanging nearly to her knees, and has been pulled back into a delicately elaborate braid decorated with a multitude of freshly bloomed flowers. Her complexion is fair, and her eyes are clear and sharp as she regards the group and nods her head in greeting, and smile on her lips that radiates kindness warmth. The unicorn symbol of her goddess hangs upon her bosom, and a second tops the oaken staff she holds in her hand.

Theodore Bromley is a beast of a man who stands a good six inches shorter than Warden Gallias. Everything about the man speaks of a rough life of hard work, from his short, balding brown hair and scruffy beard, to his weathered skin and gnarled hands. He is a stout man, with a amble belly that belies the power in his thick arms and legs. His clothes are simple homespun wool, and he wears no adornments or symbols. the only thing that gives him away as the owner of The Lonely Sow, is the apron around his middle stained with mead and grease. His arms are folded across his barrel chest, and he offers nothing more than a grunt when he is introduced.

[Lank]

Sergor was surprised to see a welcoming party. He spits in his hands and combs his hair back before he approaches. His attempt to clean himself up is for nought however, as he has been walking for a while and his messy hair is already drenched in sweat.

The half orc stands over six feet tall, his chain armor appears to be in poor condition, with rust forming in the pits of both arms and around the bottom of his coif. His armor is ill fitting, it appears to be too small for him, he must barely be able to squeeze into it. His helmet appears to have suffered many a knock and his shield looks like it has blocked one too many blows.

With the half orc satisfied with his preparations he approaches the Warden.

"Pleasure to be ere Warden" he boldly exclaims. His voice is loud and booming. "If it's introductions you be after then allow me to start. The name is Sergor, I am this merry band's cleric of Kord. A fine town you got ere Warden. We're ere to keep it that way".

Sergor gives a large grin. His teeth are yellowed and sharp. For a bystander looking at him it would be a correct guess to assume his breath smells terrible.

[JacksPC]

Happy to have met up with a fellow group of travelers to share the road with, Elyssa sees the group arranged in front of the tavern. She is sore from the rough road and eager to make a good impression on her first adventure.

She whistles a merry fanfare and quickly steps forward and introduces herself and her merry band, giving a flourish of her cape and brushing back an errant strand of her curly silver hair behind her ear she gives courtly bow she learned from an elven diplomat and confidently proclaims

“Greetings, I am Elyssa Lockridge and this merry band of adventurers and I saw your summons and ventured forth with most haste to your esteemed village” she says as she looks glances around with at the lowly buildings in the town “Pray tell us more of your troubles with goblins so we can be of aid and you may resume your idyllic lives”


[roll0] for Persuasion to make a good impression

[CleverCricket]

Cricket hadn't been too surprised when she met up with the small band of adventurers on the road to Estamere, and truthfully she had been happy to have the company during the long journey. As they had gotten closer to the village, it had become a bit more difficult for the small halfling woman to reign in the enormous squirrel she was riding on. Twig was enjoying the isolated wilderness road much more than he had the larger trade roads the two of them had been traveling on for the past year, and it took all of Cricket's strength to keep him from running off the trail to chase the other squirrels through the trees. Although, as much trouble as Twig could be sometimes, she did enjoy the excited and curious looks she got from the young village children when she rode into town. Even in this band of adventurers she was a strange sight, the three foot tall druid riding comfortably on the back of a giant red squirrel.

When the group is greeted by the Warden and the other village leaders, Cricket slides down from Twigs back, giving the squirrel a pat on the head as she strides her miniature frame up to stand before Warden Gallias, "My greetings to you Lord Gallias, Master Bromley," she nods to the two human men with a bright smile. Then she turns to the priest of Ehlonna and gives the elven woman a small bow, "Fair morning to you Sister," though not a member of the church herself, Cricket held the goddess of the wilds in high regard along with those who served her, "I am Cricket, and as my companions have so blatantly stated, we have come to lend you aid against the goblins that menace your village."

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir silently follows his new travelling companions, hood pulled over his head. He hadn't expected to join any sort of group, but it did make the lonely hours on the road more pleasant. His grey cloak obscures much of his appearance, but the mercenary badge on his clasp is clear enough, displaying the emblem of a swooping goshawk. The elf is clearly slightly uncomfortable in civilised surrounds, more used to clinging to outskirts and encampments. He peers out from under the rim of his hood with wide, yellow eyes. "If one more you of you says the words "merry band", I think I may end up fighting for the goblins." He languidly bows to the village leaders. "Hello. When was it that you wanted us to start killing things?"

[Awful]

Maakashi Stormkissed - exile, sandlorn, seeker - was a standout figure. Her body was almost completely covered in first a gold-tracered black bodysuit, then white reinforcement and over that vivid red and yellow cloth, wrapped in layers that dangled down, skirt-like, from her waist. More of that yellow cloth was wrapped around her head in a turban, and the black underlayer - once used for keeping sand out her mouth and nose - was still pulled up over her face. Indeed, only the flesh of her fingers and a section around kohl-lined eyes could be seen, revealing sandy-coloured skin.

In truth, she was still uncomfortable among these strangers, with their skin so bared and unmarked. Their tongues were gutteral and harsh compared to the flowing elven she'd grown up hearing. One of the group she'd met had been an elf, but he had been raised by humans, it seemed, and his half-forgotten people had varied overmuch from hers besides: they hadn't had too much in common.

She came to a stop before the welcoming party. The sandlorn barbarian leant on her glaive and her eyes flicked from man to woman to man.
"Maakashi."she introduced herself, her voice not much more than a whisper. "Jari-thelasa. Stormkissed, in human tongue."

[Dice Gremlin]

Warden Gallias nods to each adventurer in turn as they introduce themselves, though his gaze lingers on Viramir, the elf's question obviously giving the man pause. Frowning, the Warden replies, "As soon as you can find them I suppose," he doesn't appear pleased by Viramir's attitude. After all most normal people were not so eager to kill even goblins.

Clearing her throat, Sister Ingwen takes up the conversation, responding to Eylssa's prompt for more information, "As our request to the guild stated, there has been an unprecedented attack by the goblins that dwell in the hills. They have always been troublesome, but never before have they dared to venture so close to the village, or conduct so ruthless an attack. The Thistlemoor's farm lies only three miles from here, where the river cuts between the hills. The vale it occupies is some of the best farm land in the area, and the Thistlemoor's were a fine, hardworking family," the elven priest pauses, clearly upset by the memory of the attack.

Bromley picks up the tale, "Ain't no finer folk in Estamere. Least that was true until two weeks back. Damn goblins hit the place hard in the night from what we can tell. Killed James good and dead, left'em pinned to the ground with spears. No sign of poor Maria or their daughters. Goblins must'ave taken'em," the tavern master spits on the ground in disgust.

Warden Gallias nods and continues, "They took the livestock too. No sign of slaughtered goats. They burned the house and the barn, but didn't bother with the fields. We've left the property as untouched as we can, but Ivan and his boys have been tending the seedlings. The Thistlemoor's provided a good portion of the crops for the village and we can't afford to let their fields go to weed," Gallias motions toward a dirt path leading out of the village proper to the south, "I'll escort you to the farm and answer any questions I can on the way."

[Lank]

Sergor shrugs at Viramir's comment. "What are we if not merry?" he says quizzically. His attention turns back to the Warden.

"I ain't no woodsman, but those livestock would have left tracks. Maybe even after all this time we could still pick up their trail?"

Sergor lifts his coif over his head and puts on his pot helm.

"Maybe on the way you can tell us more about the goblins before they became so violent. Do you know if they ave a clan name, or any of their leaders?"

Sergor seems eager to start.

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir makes an exaggerated grimace. "I've been happy. I've even been joyful. But if you ever find reason to call me jolly, then please, grant me a swift death."

He turns back to Gallias and Bromley, but seems to be avoiding looking at or addressing Ingwen. "I assume they were drawn here by the picturesque landscape. Not surprising they stayed for the charming locals. But yes, it would be good to know about their leadership. Sudden aggression may mean a new warlord with grand designs... or perhaps just a chieftain with a taste for roast goat and roast cottages. Either way, no harm in knowing your enemy."

[Awful]

The halfblood bowed her head in respect to the group's anger.
"Narwari sa tulor. Sorrow for your loss."

Maakashi took a moment to absorb what the man had said, thinking it over. The Asasi-Ta were always vigorous in ensuring their own safety: elves had long lives, and almost all could wield a bow with a hefty degree of skill. Most would-be marauders steered clear in favour of targets that would be less likely to fill them full of arrows.

Sergor's questions were worthy. Still, a sudden change in tactics...

"How do..." she started, paused and wet her lips. "How do you know it was the goblins? Is there anything else that might have done the murder-deed?"

[CleverCricket]

Climbing back into Twig's saddle, Cricket gives the reins a little shake and follows after the others. The biggest benefit of having the giant squirrel mount was that it allowed the halfling to keep pace with the larger folk without having to jog along or slow them down. She listens to the conversation, nodding her agreement with the questions the others ask and adding her own opinion, "The goats may have left a trail yes. It's also likely the goblins did as well. From what little I know of them, they aren't really known for being stealthy in their raids. Has anyone tried to follow their trail Warden?"

[JacksPC]

Elyssa Lockridge (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1848108)
Lvl 1 Dwarven Bard | HP 11/11 | AC 18

Feeling sure she'll be able to show her value to the group with her skills in wilderness survival and tracking along with her knowledge of animal handling, a wide grin splits Elyssa's face when Sergor mentions tracks.

Elyssa follows Warden Gallias to the farm, drinking in more details of her unlikely companions

Asking her companions, "Perchance do any of you understand the Goblin tongue? We didn't have many goblins charter us in my caravaning days..."

While walking along, Elyssa fingers the scar running down the right side of her face as she often does when deep in thought.

She thinks the situation over and is happy to hear the well thought out questions directed at the warden. This group is definitely a cut above common citizenry. Maybe they'll be good subjects for a rousing ballad...

[Awful]

"I have never seen a goblin, never mind learnt to speak their fal'iri- ah, their tongue," Maakashi admitted. "They are not native to my people's lands. I know somewhat of them, and they die like anything of flesh - but little else besides."

[Lank]

"Can't speak any goblin, only Orcish". Sergor rubs his chin. "They are kind of similar right?"

[CleverCricket]

Cricket raises her hand and grins,"Oh! I can speak goblin! I spent a summer watching a small clan near where I used to live and I picked it up," she states proudly. That had been a bad summer, but she doesn't mention that.

[Dice Gremlin]

As the group moves off down the path out of the village proper, Warden Gallias speaks, "Myself and some of the local hunters attempted to follow the trail left behind. It leads from the farm a few miles into the woods, but we lost it in a rocky ravine where the river bends toward the village. I suspect the goblin's lair must be somewhere in that area, but I've had no success in finding it," The Warden covers ground quickly with his long stride, following the narrow path along low, stone walls that boarder fields of freshly tilled earth and newly risen sprouts. There are a few farmers out working within sight of the road, and they look up to watch the odd group pass by, the half-orc cleric and the squirrel riding halfling drawing much of the attention.

Warden Gallias continues, paying no attention to the farmers, "We don't know a great deal about the goblins. It isn't as if we had any civil contact with them. They've always been a problem, and I suspect they built their lair here long before we came to settle the land," Gallias pauses and moves aside as a mule drawn cart creaks past the group, the driver nodding politely and obviously trying not to openly stare. Continuing on, Gallias sighs, "In the past they never did more than steal the odd goat or sheep, and the attacks on our hunters were rare and served more to scare the hunters away from venturing too deep into the hills. It always seemed to me that the goblins were content to be left alone. Their thefts were never more than we could spare, and it was little enough to pay to keep them satisfied and away from the village," the Warden rounds a sharp bend in the path, and the group can see the ruins of the Thistlemoor farm now. The charred, black mass of the farm house and barn stand like a morbid monument at the end of a path decorated in freshly blooming spring flowers. This had one been a beautiful home, built and maintained by a family that took pride in their land.

Warden Gallias stops at the gate in the stone wall that surrounds the farm, gazing up at the ruins in stoic silence for a moment before speaking, "Something has most certainly changed in the past months. The goblin's aggression has escalated, and I can no longer overlook them as a threat to the village," he turns to face the group, "Find them. Root them out or find a way to stop these attacks."

[Lank]

Sergor surveys the ruins of the farm.
His normally cheerful demeanor changes to a solemn, serious one.
"I swear by the might of Kord, I will give justice to the Thistlemoors, and if fate is good, bring the survivors home."

Sergor gives a small smile to the Warden and nods his head. He then sets off to have a look around the farm for any clues that might provide more information about the attack.


[roll0]

[JacksPC]

Elyssa Lockridge (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1848108)
Lvl 1 Dwarven Bard | HP 11/11 | AC 18

Elyssa's heart saddens at the sight of the burnt out farmhouse and her idle whistling cuts off abruptly. She focuses on the task at hand and takes Warden Gallias's words to heart - these deprivations will end, one way or another. She'd talked her way out of many tough situations in the past but knows sometimes differences are settled with steel...

She solemnly tells Warden Gallias "We will not let let the death of these kind follk go forgotten or unavenged. "


Elyssa puts her skills gained by many long days on the road to use, spotting for clues that might have been missed and checking for tracks and signs of the goblins, missing villagers, livestock or anything else out of the ordinary. She knows that the passage of two weeks and the tracks of the villagers that responded to the initial attack might have obscured possible tracks, and asks Gallias "Can you show us what signs are from the initial attack and what was from the village response?"


Elyssa also takes Cricket aside as she appears to be the most at home in these woods and softly speaks words of encouragement, praise and inspiration to her, hoping to inspire confidence in the diminutive druid.

Not sure which check is preferred, perception to look around for general clues, survival to understand the tracks and effects of time and weather, see both below.

Bardic Inspiration on Cricket to giver her one Bardic Inspiration die, a d6. Once within the next 10 minutes, the creature can roll the die and add the number rolled to one ability check, attack roll, or saving throw it makes. The creature can wait until after it rolls the d20 before deciding to use the Bardic Inspiration die, but must decide before the DM says whether the roll succeeds or fails.

[roll0] Survival Check
[roll1] Perception Check

[CleverCricket]

Dismounting, Cricket loops Twig's reigns over a fence post and begins her investigation of the burned down farm and the area surrounding it.

Nature = [roll0] + [roll1]
Perception = [roll2]

[Awful]

"...Do you have any of the spears they used to pin the corai?" She frowned beneath her cloth. "I do not have the word. Fallen man. "
Maakashi did not even know where to start with investigating a burned-out farm for signs of murderous goblins. So instead she rested her glaive on her shoulder and asked more questions.
"Are spears what goblins have had in encounter-fights in the past? When they frightened away hunters in the hills, they did so in large groups? Or just a few?"

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir glances over to Maakashi. "Corai? Corpses is the human form." He pronounces the word slightly differently to Maakashi, with a strange additional lilt.

Upon seeing the farm, the elf lets out a low whistle. "Oh, dear. They did have fun, didn't they? I suppose I'll have to amend my comment on the beauty of your local architecture." He crouches in the ruins, picking up a piece of scorched wood and considering it. "Goblins are a cowardly sort. If they've suddenly discovered their boldness, they've either found themselves a new leader, like I said before... or they're desperate. Competition with another tribe, a sudden shortage in mountain rats, something of the sort." He turns the charcoal shard over and over in his hands. "Remarkably similar to humans, really. Of course, humans smell much worse." He straightens, tucking the piece of wood away in his cloak. Viramir's tone remains light, but a close observer might notice the slight edge to his words and a tenseness in his stance.

[Dice Gremlin]

Luckily for the group, even after two weeks of weather and the traffic of the villagers walking through the area, the goblin tracks are still easily visible, if a bit indistinct. There were clearly at least a dozen of them, and they made no effort to hide their presence or numbers during the attack. There are broken spears scattered around the burned down farm house made of wood and bone, and a dark stain in the dirt still marks where James Thislemoor was found. The tracks clearly lead off toward the edge of the fields and into the woods, heading in the direction of the foothills that rise up beyond the trees.

The Warden stands back and lets the group of adventurers work, helpfully pointing out the most intact spears left over from the attack, "We left everything as we found it in case you could find something we might have missed," he explains. Looking to Maakashi he nods in response, "Spears and clubs seem to be their weapons of choice. I don't think I've seen or heard of them using anything else in their attacks. Until now they never seemed to move in groups larger than three or four. This was the largest group I've ever heard of" he gestures at the goblin tracks.

Listening to Viramir, Warden Gallias's expression grows darker and darker until he is glaring at the elf in open hostility. Finally he growls, "Is this a joke to you? The death of my people is not some jolly entertainment for you to make light of with your insensitive and ignorant comments. If you haven't the decency to take this matter seriously then I would ask you to leave my village, now," clerly the Warden has not taken kindly to Viramir's seemingly flippant attitude.

[Awful]

"Corpses," Maakashi said quietly, the muscled woman trying out the word. She nodded thanks, but her mouth set into a hard line beneath its wrap at the elf's rudeness. Still, it was not her issue to deal with; it was a quarrel-in-making between the elf and the human, not her.
She picked up one of the goblin spears, turning it over in her hands before tossing it aside. No metal in it, but it must have done the job well enough; a sanddrake tooth was often enough used as a spearpoint even among her own people. No bows was a welcome thing to hear; an archer could slay you before you ever got close. A spear, at least, was not so easily hurled the distance, and fewer carried.
"We should go. Follow the track-signs."

[JacksPC]

Elyssa Lockridge (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=1848108)
Lvl 1 Dwarven Bard | HP 11/11 | AC 18

Elyssa is uncharacteristically silent during the Warden's speech. Before witnessing the scene first hand the gravity of her task hadn't fully set in. This wasn't like what she had imagined while daydreaming during long caravan rides...

She'd come across death before but generally it was of the unprepared or foolhardy, not hiring guards for a dangerous trip, attempting a ford after a rain and the like. The risks of the road were known, but this? To be attacked in one's own home and lose your family? For the first time, Elyssa starts taking her task to heart and looks beyond the promise of quick coin to righting this wrong.

"I'll find who did this and bring them to justice" she says, and seems startled that she said it aloud.

Recovering, she goes on "We take this matter seriously Warden" with a side glance at Viramir "I agree with Maakashi, we should follow the trail, I don't believe anything more is to be gained here "

[Lank]

Sergor is busy searching and misses the Warden's complaint. He return to the stand off.
"I am happy to follow that trail, there is nothing more to be gained here".

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir shoots Gallias a lopsided grin, the thin scars that line his face twitching. "Funny you should mention that, honoured Warden. I was just planning to leave your village, by way of the hills. You see, I've heard there's some goblins hiding in them. In the meantime, please forgive me my elvish trifles. Our kind do not have the gravitas of humans." Viramir unlimbers his bow, a beautiful length of carved yew with a handle tightly wrapped in grey leather. "Why, Maakashi is undoubtedly a bundle of ribald jokes and slapstick under those robes, if only she had the words to express it." He unhurriedly strings the longbow, plucking at the bowstring with a deep twang. "But you may rest assured that I will take the matter of eliminating the threat to your village perfectly seriously. I am, after all, a professional."

[CleverCricket]

Cricket watches the exchange with a bit of trepidation, not knowing how the Warden would react. Putting on a smile the halfling druid manages a strained laugh, "Ha...yeah. Let's gt going," she quickly mounts Twig and starts after the others, pausing next to Warden Gallias to offer a little shrug and a smile, "Heh. Sorry about him. We'll do our best to take care of the goblins. Promise," she flicks the reins in her hands and heads off. On her way out of the farm Cricket grabs one of the goblin spears and tries to determine what kind of animal the bone might have come from. If it was a prey animal, it was probably something the goblins hunted. But if it was a predator, it might be something they keep as pets.

Nature = [roll0]

[Dice Gremlin]

Cricket is able to determine that the bone most likely comes from a frog, but one significantly bigger than what one would expect.

Warden Gallias watches the group leave with a sour expression before he turns and heads back toward the village.

The goblin tracks lead away from the ruins of the farm house and through a large hole in a wooden fence that surrounds the property. After crossing the fence line, the tracks become more clearly goblin, as there are no longer other tracks to muddle the trail. It leads down a grassy hill and then into forest that looms up around the foot hills. Tracking in the forest becomes more difficult as the ground grow firmer and roots and underbrush obscure the trail.

Let's get some rolls to continue following the tracks as well as perception from everyone

[Lank]

Sergor follows the trail as best he can, he has some experience in the wild and is able to follow tracks quite well but he underestimates his own ability and for once doesn't proudly boast of his prowess.

Unless someone interrupts him, Sergor will whistle a simple tune. Anyone familiar with this particular tune (it is common among soldiers) would notice that he keeps on forgetting the third part of it and just repeats the first and second repetitively.


[roll0] for survival
[roll1] for perception.

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir finishes the third part of Sergor's whistle, treading carefully along the trail. "I recognise that tune. Some of the men from my company used to whistle it, on the trail. That emblem on your clasp... You're Red Band, aren't you?" Pulling aside his grey cloak, revealing close-fitting leather armour, Viramir taps a small icon of a bird of prey on his chest. "Goshawks. I didn't take you for a mercenary, Sergor." As he talks, Viramir's wide yellow eyes flick back and forth attentively, watching the path ahead, behind and above. "I suppose even the gods support the sacred right to kill people for gold. Business sense is clearly not only the domain of mortals." Viramir's lopsided grin is quickly becoming familiar to anyone who's been paying attention to his constant flow of inane observations. "To be honest with you, I never considered the Red Band terribly impressive. Too much holy talk, not enough putting holes in people."
Viramir is using his Mercenary Life feature to recognise the symbol of the Red Band and recall a few facts about them (and also making some things up to get some kicks.)
Perception Check: [roll0]

[Lank]

When Viramir gets halfway through the third verse Sergor remembers the rest and whistles with him. "I can assure you friend, the gods, or at least the gods that matter don't care about gold or the slaying of ones foes. The Red Band itself isn't a holy order, Edgar is just errrrrrr selective about our contracts. Edgar is different from most, the gold is secondary to him. Sure we all like to get paid, but Edgar thinks we all fight better when we fight for what is right, not for what will fill our pockets the most".

Sergor smiles at Viramir's opinion of the Red Band, mercenary companies are in direct competition with each other. Sometimes friendly rivalries form, sometimes less than friendly rivalries instead.

"You know, Kord looks out for soldiers, even those who haven't heard of him. And when your company healer is channeling Kord to put you back together after a scrap, the soldiers tend to praise him too".

Sergor smirks at Viramir. He didn't intend to start proselytizing but was happy to anyway. "So what company of lowlife, flea-bitten miscreants do you call home Viramir?" Sergor asks playfully.

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir's grin widens, clearly enjoying the exchange. "I already told you, priest, or was your high horse too far off the ground to hear? The Goshawks, I said. Perhaps you've heard of the Battle of Brygen? Or the Harvalt uprising?" He declines to mention whether the Goshawks were on the winning or losing sides of those famed engagements. "Of course, I was but a whelp at the time, and can hardly claim credit for our good work... but don't be too quick to deny rumours of a young Elven lad leading archers through the forest trails." Of course, if such rumours did not exist beforehand, Viramir intends to make sure they do.
"Oh, such a band of rascals we were. But I assure you, professionals to the core. Why, we're much favoured by royalty, just as the noble goshawk is." Viramir points to the small emblem on his chest again- a bird of prey digging its claws into a hunter's hand. "'Blood from the King's hand! Coin from the King's purse!' Our motto stirs the blood, does it not?" Viramir leaves the veracity of his claims to royal favour up to his listener's imaginations. There's an ever-so-slight edge of bitterness to his words, though he keeps his tone light.

[Lank]

Sergor nods politely but judging by the rather confused look on his face clearly his geography and history skills are lacking. He does not recognize the place or events listed by Viramir.
"I ain't too sure, i'm afraid all those history lessons ol Wargazer gave me went in one ear and out the other". Sergor looks slightly embarrassed.

Sergor composes himself. "A nice motto to be sure, but the Red Band doesn't have a motto, our deeds speak for themselves".

Sergor smiles and looks at Viramir's bow.

"Ah I was beginning to wonder if you could use that bow or if it was just a fashion statement. Leading the archers is no small feat. I have never been a good marksman, I don't have the patience for it. Don't have the patience for sword play either.
Why dance around when you can just smash your enemy's face in with a hammer I say".

[Professor Gnoll]

"I shall remember the name of Sergor if I ever need a nail driven into a plank of wood, then." Viramir idly draws an arrow from his quiver and spins it around a finger. "I find finesse pays in our line of work. As does patience. But perhaps we will soon get the chance to prove the respective virtues of our philosophies on the noble art of depriving one's foe of their vital fluids." Arrow still lazily twirling, he glances at Cricket. "I'm particularly curious to see how effective that squirrel proves to be. I would hate to be the unfortunate who ends up disembowelled by a tree-dwelling rodent. It'd make for a poor epitaph, to be sure." Viramir fluidly sheathes the arrow and addresses his next comment towards Cricket, Elyssa and Maakashi. "What do you think, oh merry companions? Is finesse or force the measure of a murderer?"

[CleverCricket]

Cricket is lost in thought as the group moves out of the farm land and into the forest, holding the goblin spear and contemplating the bone, "Hmm, giant frog. Certainly not what I would expect from goblins. I had though wolf maybe, or deer. This has some interesting implications..." her thoughts are interrupted when she hears Viramir speaking of her mount, and she has to smile, patting the big red squirrel on the head, "Oh, yes Twig is quite fierce when the mood takes him. Usually if I forget to feed him," she chuckles softly then looks a bit more serious at the question, "To be perfectly honest, I would rather not kill if it can be avoided. All creatures, even goblins, are part of the great balance. From what the Warden told us it seems like this tribe has been living here for many generations," as an example she holds up the spear.

"See this, it's made of giant frog bone. Which means the goblins must regularly hunt them for meat, bones and hide. They have become part of the local ecosystem and without them, these giant frogs could spawn out of control and spread to feeding on more of the other wildlife. They may even grow large and numerous enough to threaten Estamere without the goblins to quell their numbers," the little druid explains, "The fact that the goblins seem to have a ready supply of these amphibians to hunt, and yet they still raided the village says to me that something has thrown the natural order out of balance. My guess is either a change in leadership, or something has driven the goblins away from their normal hunting grounds. If we can correct the imbalance, the goblins will return to their old ways and no longer be a threat to Estamere. I believe we can do it with a minimal lose of life if we are smart about it."

Cricket looks from one mercenary to the other, then quirks a small smile, "Though if pressed I would have to say finesse can solve more problems than brute force," her look to Sergor is apologetic.

Nature to follow tracks: [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[Lank]

Sergor lets out a hearty laugh. "I didn't tell you? While growing up in the orphanage I was forced to learn a trade. I am actually a carpenter before devoting myself to Kord and the Red Band. So if you do have need of a nail to be driven into a piece of wood, don't hesitate to ask".

Sergor lets out another laugh, just as loud as the first.
Cricket's comments intrigue Sergor.

"Aye little one, you could be right about the goblins and the balance out here. But did you consider that maybe the gobbos bred to much and now they need to seek out more food than their hunting grounds provide? If so, isn't culling them down to more manageable numbers a benefit to them as much as the rest of the creatures and the town ere"

[Awful]

Maakashi had been silently listening to the conversation with half an ear as she continued to look around, and being included suddenly caused her to glance back.
She pondered for a moment, before she shrugged.
"...The situation determines what is best. A dagger in the nir is just as fatal as an axe through the ra. In battle I would want the axe. In skulking, I would want the knife." She paused, debating whether to speak further. "All my people are taught of four weapons; the short and long sword and the same for bows. Each has its duty-place in war."

Her part said, she turned her gaze on Cricket.
"Cricket-druid. These giant frogs... do you know what capabilities they might have? Poison, or as war-beasts?"


Perception: [roll0]
I accidentally hit preview roll and that murders the roll. So hopefully this won't be seen as having tried to edit the roll? I can make a new one if necessary.

[JacksPC]

Elyssa listened in eagerly to the rough conversation of her companions, happy to learn a new tune she hadn't heard before, and of mercenary bands, what an exciting life that must have been! She will have to ask them about their backgrounds more later...

She responds to the question I've always found that it's easier to go around a fallen tree than chop it up and move it. I think that applies to lots of things in life - I'd rather try to soothe an angry oxen than wrestle it, that's for sure. And I've been in my fair share of taverns where things could have gotten ugly quick if the innkeep or barman hadn't stepped in and smoothed things over after a spilled drink. But, this? she spits in distaste at the foul murder of the farmfolk Some things are just wrong and there's only one way to fix them...sometimes a dog goes mad and you put him down, sometimes a boar sets his sight on you and things go the hard way.


[roll0] Perception

[roll1] Survival

[CleverCricket]

At Maakashi's question Cricket pauses to think for a moment before responding, then she says, "There are many different species of frog, so it's hard to know for sure. There are many species that are indeed poisonous, but only if ingested. Only a few can transfer their poison by touch, and none that I know of that have weaponized it. However, just like Twig here, giant variations on natural creatures tend to be the result of something influencing their growth. Usually magic. So these frog may be capable of much more than the standard variety," she shrugs ruefully. "Best to expect the worst I suppose. At best, they are not picky eaters and may see us as tasty snacks.

[Dice Gremlin]

The group is easily able to follow the goblin trail through the forest, walking for several hours before the trees begin to thin and they find themselves in a ravine where the river cuts through the woods on its way down from the mountains. The ground here slopes down from the trees toward the water, and turns from forest soil to rocky gravel and sand with small stands of woody brush and tall grasses. The goblin trail vanishes in the rocks, the surface too hard packed for foot prints to be left behind, which leaves the group with no direction.

This, however, is a secondary concern as a large, brown serpent none of them notices rears up in their path and hisses threateningly, baring fangs as large as daggers.

[Lank]

Sergor is very sweaty by the end of this walk. If the goblins weren't able to hear him coming they could certainly smell him. Sergor stops at the sight of the serpent. "Ordinarily I'd try to smash that thing with my hammer. But given present company..." Sergor glances at Cricket and smiles and the task at hand being the goblins, we should find another way around".

Sergor shrugs his shoulders.

"What are you thoughts? I am happy either way".

[CleverCricket]

Cricket see's the snake rear up in front of them and stops in her tracks, holding Twig steady in the face of the serpent, "Oh. We must have startled him. I'm sure if we just back away slowly we can go around and continue our search without bothering him further," she smiles and speaks in a calming tone as she back Twig away from the snake.

Not sure if either of these are needed, but I'll roll them anyway just in case:
Handle Animal - [roll0]
Nature - [roll1]

[Awful]

Maakashi's glaive lowered, providing a pointed barrier between herself and the snake. As Cricket backed away, so did she, prepared to strike if the snake came for them.

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir calmly takes a single pace back and strings an arrow, keeping his bow slack. "Watch out, little druid. I think it's eyeing your squirrel. Perhaps we should toss it over and sneak past."

[Dice Gremlin]

Backing away from the snake, the group is caught unaware as a second snake rears up behind them and snaps out at Cricket. The surprise attack just barely misses sinking sharp fangs int the halfling, and she can feel the rush of wind near her face as the second snakes jaws snap shut.

And that's combat. Roll initiative. Everyone include your first round actions with your initiative, the group will act on the highest initiative turn rolled.

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir turns smartly, eyes flashing, bow already ready. Without rushing, he sights, aims and draws at the second snake in a single fluid motion, then looses an arrow.
Initiative: [roll0]
Attack: [roll1]
Damage on Hit: [roll2]
(Extra crit damage from OOC thread: 4, so 10 damage all up.)

[Lank]

Caught unaware, Sergor's first instinct is to protect Cricket. He turns and rushes the snake that attacked her. "To arms!" he yells ferociously. Sergor attempts to slam the snake with his hammer.


[roll0] for initiative.
[roll1] for hammer strike to hit.
[roll2] for damage

[CleverCricket]

Cricket let's out a little shriek as she feels the second snake snap at her, and she nearly tumbles from Twig's back in shock. Her sickle is in her hand and she makes a wild slash at the reptile as her heart pounds in her chest.

Initiative - [roll0]
Attack - [roll1]
Damage - [roll2]

[JacksPC]

Elyssa had been in the back of the group lost in her own thoughts about the dark events at the farm. She starts suddenly when she sees the snake lash past her halfling companion and reacting quickly she grabs her warhammer in two hands and sets into the fray...

[roll0] initiative
[roll1] 2h warhammer attack on nearest serpent
[roll2] 2h warhammer damage

[Awful]

"Tala vo!" Maakashi hissed out in surprise as a second snake reared from the undergrowth. With a quick motion, she span to face the new threat and slashed at the snake, aiming to seperate its head from its body.


[roll0] init
[roll1] to hit
If hit: [roll2] Slashing damage, [roll3] extra if crit

[Dice Gremlin]

Of all the attacks aimed at the second snake only Viramir manages to score a solid hit, cutting a gash in the serpent's side. The beast jerks back, hissing in pain and baring fangs at the group. It lunges in at Virmir, snapping hard but only catching air, The other snake makes a strike at Cricket and scores a bite, sinking needle sharp teeth into her leg. (Damage 3)

Go for round two.

[Lank]

Sergor isn't dissuaded by his first failed strike and goes in for another. Sergor lifts the hammer high and with a grunt brings it down as the same snake as last time.

[roll0] to hit
[roll1] for damage

[Awful]

Maakashi gritted her teeth and attacked again.


[roll0] to hit
[roll1] dam

[Professor Gnoll]

Viramir, after swaying back from the attack directed at him, calmly turns and aims a second arrow at the snake attacking Cricket.
Hit: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

[JacksPC]

Elyssa swings again at the nimble beasts

[roll0] 2h warhammer attack on nearest serpent
[roll1] 2h warhammer damage