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That night with Tarkin and his rangers passes slowly. None of you sleep
well. The jungle never seems to sleep and its sounds, so alien and
predatory, stalk what few dreams you have. None of you have truly rested
in a very long time. You have fought fiercely and won; here, deep in a
land where every creature seems to wish you ill, you have overcome. The
fading enchantments and debased protectors of this temple are no more.
You have come away with loot and power and for some, knowledge.
But something else winds its way between you this night. Unspoken, you share a feeling that all is not right; something that should have been left alone has been disturbed. It is a night of forgotten secrets, whispered on the river wind. And this fetid jungle wind tugs away at your secrets, too. If nothing else, this night brings the realization that your comrades all bear deadly riddles of their own. For brief moments in the darkness, you eye those sleeping around you and wonder who will betray you. Tarkin says little. Watches are set and kept between all of you, save the druid who nurses his grievances alone. Dawn breaks as it always does here, below angry morning rain clouds in the west. The green lawn which extends a long mile to the river's edge is blanketed in morning mist; the jungle smells of rich soil and morning dew. * * * Over scant rations, Tarkin explains his plan. "The three of us," he says, pointing to his rangers, "need to head further west, into the jungle. Problem is, your little expedition into the temple attracted the attention of the masters of the beast we fought last night. And it's a certainty they will send more. I need you to act as a diversion so we can disappear into the jungle. Once there, we can draw them off you." He pauses for a second as you grimace, not pleased with the idea of being used as bait. "It won't be too bad. You proved your mettle last night, and I'm sure you can hold them off for a while. The idea is this: you stand here, make some noise... cast magic, actually, they're attracted to it like hounds to blood. Meanwhile, the three of us will break for the jungle border further west. It should take us about twenty minutes to be in position. Once there, we have a way to call them... like... like a dog whistle. They'll go chasing their merry way east and... we can take care of them all in the jungle. After they run, you can go. Agreed?" * * * None of you waste any time once the plan is agreed to. Kren joins Tarkin and his men who skirt around to the western colonnade of the temple. One of his men climbs atop a ruined column to act as a scout and the rest of you walk south into the great, overgrown meadow to the south and wait... like good bait. While some of you do a bit of scouting, others ready weapons or spells. All the while, the sun rises steadily from your left, burning the meadow fog away and waking the dormant army of gnats and jungle-flies. Sweat beads on your brows. You shift blades from hand to hand. Flies buzz at you and the long, thick grass sways lazily. Only Etrigan seems unfazed, not a bead of sweat on his brow. Your thoughts wander... you think of home, somewhere north. You drift through that endless maze of memories: the bustle of merchant carts through the Dragongate, the smell of dwarven meat cakes, snow-clad mountains and fragrant pine forests. What was the name of those...CRACK! You're snapped out of your reverie violently by a thunderclap and the sizzle of lightning and three monstrous forms step out from... somewhere.. into the meadow before you. Wasting no time you launch into your planned attack. The battle is fierce and many of you are sorely wounded. Afterwards, you'll sit and talk and remember this: 1) the three creatures were chitinous, like spiders or crabs. 2) around them circled continous patterns circles of raw energy, like continuously wobbling hoola-hoops. All three were a sickly grey color, like ash. the larger of the three had red bands of energy, while the other two had blue. 3) their entirebodies were covered in rune tatoos. As you attacked, the runes flared where you hit, sometimes slowing your weapon, other times healing damage done to that area. the hoola hoops acted as parries or spell blocks. 4) the large one could generate runes in mid air with two tiny arm like appendages (like an ant's front antennae but with something like fingers). It would use these to cast this rune magic. It used a variety of spells, but liked to throw rune wheels... something like flying energy shurikens at people. 5) the other two didn't have this power so they alternated between guarding the main one (parrying and so forth) and attacking. 6) they knew very quickly who the spell casters were... like they could smell magic. 7) they attacked spell casters fiercely. 8) had it not been for the 'whistle', you would have lost at least one person. 9) you think your combined efforts wounded one severely and hurt the other a bit, but couldnt get to the caster. 10) the caster had some sort of protection from missiles. 11) some of you saw the place they stepped in from.. briefly. It looked like a hot, red desert... like say, Arizona in summer. Kaylo claims he saw two moons hanging low in the sky and a castle or fortress on a crag in the distance, but who believes Kaylo? Anyway, you do escape and run for your lives, some carrying or helping others. Against all odds, the river barge actually waited for you! And so you cast off, hoping you can leave this cursed, blasted jungle as soon as possible. * * * By late afternoon, the river ship is heading swiftly downriver. The captain and crew are openly amazed at your success and once underway, question you eagerly about your adventures. You secure your valuables well and make sure the crew is quite clear on what happens to greedy fingers... but by and large, they remain well behaved. You are a formidable bunch, it seems. The next few days are uneventful and despite fears of renewed attacks by the Banta tribesmen, you sail swiftly through the sweltering gnat lagoon and the many twists and turns of the river. You heal. You pray and study. And you examine the treasures you've acquired. But mostly you think and wonder and scheme and plan... after all, the northern currents will soon be carrying you home. All is peaceful until a few days upriver from Coral Bay, well away from Banta territory. On this starry summer night the crew is celebrating with some local rum and river songs. One of them is a particularly good fiddler and soon they're dancing and stomping on the deck, making all sorts of noise. Ostensibly, the first mate is trying to compose a song about you, but so far it's failing miserably. At first none of you hears the noise over the singing, but when Drake turns towards the bow, mumbling, "What pain-blasted thing is making that rasping?" you all glance towards the back of the ship. And hopping lithely from foot to foot is an odd little raven, nearly invisible in the shadows. "Caw! About time you turned around! Caw! Trying not to scare those sailors! Caw! Caw!" A talking raven! What now? * * * "Caw! You are rather difficult to find! Caw!" The scrawny bird hops back and forth on its tiny legs. "This area seems to... interfere with your employer's spells. Cuaw! It took a bit of work to scry you, truly. Caw! And this jungle! I'm not used to dodging predators, indeed! Caw! Caw! Cuaw!" The raven prances some more, obviously disturbed at the thought of being eaten out here. "I am Alyster. I am a sometime associate of your employer Evelyn. Caw! She asks me to convey you the following message: Caw! Your expedition has taken longer than she anticipated. She needs you rather soon, before harvest time, if possible. To faciliate this, and because this southern area seems to be... reticent to magic recently, she has employed me to transport you north. However, you must travel to Dragonfall for me to do this. I have a small shop on Soothsayer's Way selling odds and ends. I can help you there. Your mistress also bids me communicate to you that the situation could become difficult for you if you do not return this coming season. She did not explain why, but seemed anxious for your return. Ciaw!" He seems to stop there but suddenly gives a big flap and hops again. "Oh yes! Almost forgot! The situation in Dragonfall is tense. One of the mining houses was attacked by Taruk-Azik raiders to the west, near the hill dwarf settlements. Their mines were occupied. This may lead to war. Caw! The watch has been doubled and the city is crawling with news of spies! Caw! Curiously, I noticed you resemble two or three alerts posted last season! Caw! Be careful! Ships may be searched! Caw! I hope to see you in a few weeks! Caw! Any questions? Caw!" Etrigan responds "Our expedition was our own business, and while Evelyn is our sometimes-employer and has been very kind to us in the past she shouldn't make a habit of depending on our beign available at a moments notice. However - we travel to Dragonfall anyway - and I see no issue with stopping at your shop Alyster. But I hope Evelyn has given you more details as to why we are needed, and why we should hurry. It takes more then threats of difficult situations to bring us running." "Ciaw! Indeed! Well, I'll be expecting you in Dragonfall. Be swift! Caw! You may be dangerous men and Evelyn does seem to fancy you, but she is not one to be easily dismissed. Caw! Caw! I must be going before these sailors see me! Ciaw! Take some care when heading home. The admiralty is intercepting ships sailing the late summer trade routes. Your faces are known to the customs officials and the city watch, maybe even the border commanders, but you're in a list of scores of low priority riff-raff, I believe. Caw! Caw! A little subterfuge and disguise might be in order. Ciaw! Evelyn has instructed me to provide safe shelter and food in the city for a week or so. All should be ready when you arrive. Caw! She wants you back in Noguard before harvest at worst! Caw! Caw! Caw! Off I go!" * * * The annoying bird flaps away and you are once again left to your own devices. Basically, the next few days are uneventful and you arrive at Coral Bay. There you wait two more days while a northern-headed sloop loads cargo and finishes trade and you book passage. The only rumor of note is the claim that a huge caravel anchored in the bay for two nights last week. Several merchants were invited onboard to trade, the ship restocked and then sailed north. The only reason this is noteworthy is that according to most accounts, the caravel was a monster... at least 4 times larger than anything seen here. It had too many sails to count, they say, and so many men it looked like an anthill. It flew the colors of Dragonfall. The traders say they were laden with all manner of beautiful wares they claim came from far to the south. Anyway, you book passage (same prices as before) and soon you're costal hoping on your way to cooler climes (though Dragonfall this time of year is sweltering, stormy and disease-ridden), leaving the emerald coasts of the south behind. Your trip to Dragonfall takes a mere four weeks on favourable northern winds. You have plenty of time to plan! The captain expects to have to weather some foul gales a few days out from Dragonfall. * * * Just as the captain predicted, a week out from Dragonfall, the ship runs into a massive storm. For over three days, the ship is battered by fierce wind and wave. Most of you get sick. Some of you help, but the captain mostly asks you to stay below, as you would only hinder the crew. The captain is rather amazed at the sheer size of the storm and wonders to himself why such a large storm would be headed north this time of year. The hold below is flooded and nauseating; sleep is difficult. Nightmares and sea sickness leave you all feeling rather wretched and yearning for solid ground. By the time you spot the walls of Dragonfall, you're more than ready to meet whatever the harbor guard has in store. The day of your arrival is windy and grim; an angry summer thunderstorm threatens the city from the east and your ship is forced to jostle with myriad small fishing vessels scurrying home ahead of the foul weather. Kaylo does a rather thorough job of disguising you the morning of your arrival. Gladly, the massive storm prevented any admiralty ships from boarding and inspecting, so you arrive at the city uncontested. Your meeting with the harbor official is surprisingly short. Standing in the warm rain, the harbor officer greets you quickly and asks your business. Cloaks and hoods thrown about you, the man barely even registers your faces. "Damn storms... worse I've seen in years," he croaks in that familiar swarthy tongue of Dragonfall, his breath tinged in whisky. "You gents best be into the city before the afternoon, this one'll flood the lower quarters for certain. Last week's damn near drowned out every rat from here to Sea Ward! The Scuttlery Maid's a good place, n'I get a cut, if you know what I mean. Good food, good wenches, good music..." He stamps some parchment, takes you 5 silver and gives you your city week passes. "Be mindful of the cutpurses! Eh! Now where's that captain?" And off he goes in search of the ship's crew. Sick, dazed and in foul moods, you head into the massive sprawl of Dragonfall |