Chronicle: Session 4

With the jackal-weres dead and the gargoyles crumbled to dust, the party huddles around Spindle as his gem displays a human man, speaking as though directly to him.

He addresses Spindle. He says that if this message has reached him, he's probably already gone, and he's sorry. He's left something at 'the usual place' for him. The gem clicks off. Spindle cries a bit, and Nuth puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes in an awkward attempt to comfort him. "Sorry, kid." She then leaps to her feet, rushes the gate that Hand and Moira left through and kicks it full force, pretty much just to make a clatter.

"Oi, you smug magic bastard! We killed your dumb dogs and your crappy gargoyle and trust me that you are next, god damn it!"

No response, but whatever, it was cathartic. Oh, look, a lever! Nothing grabs it through the gate with Mage Hand, and the gate rises.

Boomf! Boomf! Boomf! Back at the front of the hall, blue arcane lights flare to life, and moments later the front half of the hall collapses in, Holgar on the other side, his fate uncertain. But never mind the guy on the other side of the cave-in, go go go!!! Faeleth snatches up the still-sobbing Spindle by the scruff of the neck (he goes unresistant and limp immediately) and hoofs it through the door alongside Nothing.

Cut to a while ago.

Tsalta, gigantic half-breed dwarf-elf, was chilling on a hillside. A thing happens, which is that she encounters one of her beloved cows being savaged by...a dog? A person? A dog person creature. The rest happens very fast, she's knocked out and next thing she knows she's in a dark, dank stone room, in a barred cage. Her hair is unbraided, her belongings gone.

There's a man in a cage across the room from her, who seems to be talking to himself. He takes out something shiny, and starts to speak into it. She can make something out: spangle? Sprindle? "Spindle". It's not long after this that they're joined in the room - the elevator comes down, and a dark-skinned halfling and more of those dog monsters walk out. There's a scuffle in the man's cage, the creatures kick and hit him until he's not moving any more.

They round on Tsalta, but the halfling raises a hand. "Not her. This one is...special."

Tsalta finds herself, as the man gestures in the air, no longer quite in control of herself. Her feet move and she follows him against her will, up the elevator, through a corridor, into a room with glowing runes etched into the floor and weapons on the walls and a beautiful sword near the back, through a grand dining hall - did one of those statues just move? - and onwards into a dark tunnel. (Tsalta, not keen on the dark or the cramped conditions, isn't liking this, but along she goes.)

A little way into this tunnel, the enchantment seems to slip. And as it slips away, so does Tsalta, ducking aside into an offshoot tunnel and hunkering down, hoping her kidnappers fail to notice she is no longer in tow. One of the strange men does, in a while, come back down the tunnel, and she slams a giant fist into his head and he goes down, blessedly quiet. And what a stroke of luck - he had her belongings! She settles down in her tunnel, braiding objects into her hair in a self-soothing fashion, when she hears a clamour from the hall she left behind.

There's the clash of swords, growls and snarls, the yowling of a bobcat, explosions, shouting. And then things get quieter....and then a LOT louder, as a young voice screams threats down the tunnel. Then...boomf, boomf, boomf, CRASH.

What Tsalta sees is a strange trio, an elf clutching a small...cat? It hangs like a scruffed kitten in her hand. And a...a demon? A little demon girl?

What Team Jailbird sees is a huge, hulking GIANT, peering around the corner with her eyes wide and her fingers still twisting her hair into thick plaits. She's having to stoop just to fit into the tunnel. Like a Goliath, but goliaths don't usually have so much hair.

"Oh, hello there! I'm a bit lost."

The group greet her, save Spindle, with great confusion and some measure of skepticism.

"Can I pet the wee cat?" Faeleth warns that he can bite, but the giant woman seems undeterred. She moves in closer. "Oh, he's all bald, what strange breed is your cat?"

Faeleth, deadpan, announces that he has a skin condition.

"Oh noooo, the poor wee thing, I might have something for that!" She rootles through her hair, "But I suppose there are those funny little hairless cats sometimes, aren't there, look just like a ballsack - not that I spend my time looking at ballsacks, mind - but with all the wrinkles-"

She's cut off mid-stream by a voice inside her head (inside everyone's heads, for that matter) that seems to blot out anything else that they can hear.

"I recommend that you stop pursuing me. This is not your fight. Continue this, and it will cost your life."

Tsalta asks if everyone else knows who that was, and they give their assent. Nothing probably expresses a twin knowledge of Hand and a desire to kick his face in. At some point Spindle speaks, which confuses Tsalta all the more...this probably isn't a cat, is it. Or a talking cat. This is very strange.

Everyone agrees that it's good to get moving onwards - Tsalta wants out of this cave, Nuth and Spindle want Hand's head on a spike, and Faeleth wants either or ideally both. Spindle transforms into a gigantic bobcat - a cat with hair! Tsalta can't keep up with these feline revelations!

Spindle sniffs his way up the tunnel. He hones in on Hand's scent and starts moving at a bound, hitting a three-way intersection and rushing with no hesitation down the first tunnel where the trail is strong. His paw connects with the ground a little way in and sinks in with an audible 'click'. Spindle abruptly stops and lays down, the rest of the group getting the cue: something's up. They examine the pressure pad, but can't see anything on the tunnel walls it could connect to. Nothing starts pondering the weight of the fancy statue she picked up back in the storeroom. Spindle growls at the others to try and tell them to get back.

Tsalta steps over Spindle to examine the tunnel further in. A stone slab clicks down under her foot.

Boomf! Boomf! Boomf!

Bye bye, Hand's exit tunnel. Blue lights flash, it's all very deja vu, because the tunnel caves in a little way ahead. Spindle still refuses to move from the pressure pad, and Nothing gets her statue out...then Spindle changes his mind just as she was about to implement her plan of 'put statue on pad, tie rope round statue, pull it back when everyone's clear.'

Spindle gets up and nothing happens. The trap's done its job.

Well, that narrows the potential exits down to two. Spindle tries to sniff for fresh air or feel a breeze, but the air is disturbed from the recent explosion and it's hard to get a read on it. He starts heading up through the tunnel on the opposite side to the cave-in, sniffing along the way. The rest watch their feet as they follow, Tsalta lagging behind as she awkwardly navigates the cramped tunnels. The space starts to open out, and Spindle finds the tunnel leads out into a large and much more naturalistic cavern, with a rugged stone floor and damp walls, stalactites hanging from the ceiling that drip onto the stalagmites below.

Spindle can smell a weird smell towards the middle of the room, but can't find any reason for it.

Most notably, there's a pile of clothes and objects at the back of the cavern! Stuff! LOOT! After a bit of cautious sneaking forwards, Nothing and Faeleth go for a rummage. (Tsalta joins in too.) It seems like this stuff was left in a hurry and belonged to some pretty well-off folks, the clothes are well made and oooooh, shinies! Faeleth finds some gold, Tsalta finds some pretty gems she braids into her hair (it looks gorgeous!) and Nothing finds a very, very pretty silver ring with a green gemstone inlaid into it.

Faeleth sees Nuth put on the ring, and scoffs. "That looks so tacky." Faeleth, with a nat 20 on perception, can see full well that this ring is of the highest quality.

Nuth is no jeweller, but she knows it's a fancy ring. "Pfft, you're sayin' that cos you're jealous."

"It looks ugly." She internally determines she's going to steal this ring.

What is that smell? Spindle looks up in time to see three stalactites detach themselves from the ceiling and hurtle down towards the three shiny-hunters. He tries to snarl a warning, and Faeleth, at this point well used to cat!Spindle's vocalisations (thus says her 20), looks up and plunges her daggers into the falling creature, then going straight for its many, many eyes. Nuth doesn't fare nearly as well, the octopus-like monster engulfing her head as she's distracted by her pretty new ring. The one that drops on Tsalta misses, failing to account for size, and slips off of her shoulder.

Nothing scrabbles ineffectually to divest herself of the thing on her head - a thing the others have identified as a 'darkmantle' - but it constricts, tighter and then tighter still, and she drops unconscious to the ground.

Spindleshanks sees this and gouges deep claw marks into the darkmantle on Nothing's face - he goes in to tear at it with his teeth but god, the smell of it is so intense at this proximity and with all the dark, brackish ichor oozing from its wounds, blech blech yuck.

The two other darkmantles detach, flap their way up to the roof, and the girls left standing get a swipe at them as they billow upwards, dark blood dripping from their cuts and scrapes. Faeleth sees Nothing on the floor, yells out for someone to help her - Tsalta quickly lays a hand on the fallen tiefling and she gasps back to conscious life but with a horrible cave octopus still on her face, still squeezing painfully hard. Faeleth gets her knife right into its webbing and it doesn't take much to finish it off.

As for the escaped ones, well. Tsalta suggests shooting them, all at once, to guarantee they can't come back for us. Nothing finally makes it to her feet, and everyone aims up: bows, darts, and staff levelled squarely at the two askew, dripping "stalactites".

It's a resounding success. Spindle, for the second time, manages to get a dart straight through one's eye. Faeleth's arrow flies true, piercing through the other, and Tsalta gets an arrow in it too. They're pretty dead, but if that wasn't certain, the crimson flare of an Eldritch Blast blasting what remained leaves no question about it. Whew.

Spindle ceases being a cat to add to his eye collection, harvesting one perfectly intact darkmantle eye. Nuth crouches on her haunches nearby, watching him. "You're a gross kid, I love it."

Tsalta is truly perplexed. "So is he a cat, or a person? I'm confused..."

Nuth shrugs back. "He's neither here nor there really."

Screw this cave, then. The group leave, decidedly paranoid of the roof, and go the only way they can: the central tunnel.

At some point during the walk up this tunnel, Nothing turns to Faeleth. "Soooooo. You did 'work' for the baron, huh? What kinda work? Like, gotta ask." Faeleth shakes her head, clearly unwilling to impart that particular information. Nuth regards her with great suspicion, and starts to continue questioning before being cut off by Tsalta chivvying them along - "Can we hurry up, I'd rather like to get out of here please."

This tunnel, everyone notes, is very smooth. It's got a rounded shape, flatter along the floor. Otherwise, it's unremarkable. A little way in, there's a set of large steps. Trap-wary, there's an investigation. Nuth places a hand on a step, presses gently: no give. Okay. Faeleth notices a small gap between each step, and peering through sees the cogs and gears of some kind of mechanism. Spindle ascends the steps with a little difficulty due to their sheer size (they're very big steps) but calls down from the top that it's fine.

Nuth hears this and thinks, eh, guess this one is okay. A few steps up, CLUNK. Click-click-click-click.... the steps are shifting!! Tsalta calls up - "I'll catch you!" and Nothing leaps into her waiting arms, held above her head in gorgeous form. It's very Dirty Dancing.

The steps finish turning, and where there were stairs there is now a steep, greased ramp. Great.

Faeleth, the only sensible person in the room, notes the gaps in the ramp left by the steps, sticks her fingers in, and starts to make the climb. Nothing, still held by Tsalta, has a more creative idea: "Lemme get on your shoulders and you can boost me up!" Tsalta obliges, and they get into position...

Faeleth, mid-climb, gets hit by a high-velocity flailing tiefling. They both fall to the floor in undignified fashion.

"Okay, lemme try that again!" says Nothing, and Spindle holds out his staff over the top ledge as though a gnome could support the potential weight of catching her. Again, she's thrown to the top, and again, she slides down to fall flat on her ass. Shame-faced, she stands by as Faeleth scales the slope with ease and Tsalta wedges her short swords into the gaps like pitons to make the ascent.

"Someone throw me down a rope, yeah." It's a good thing she's bright red by nature. Tsalta offers down her hair, but it only reaches a third or so of the way. Faeleth holds a rope but doesn't let it down, eyeing Nothing's ring... "I'll help you up, for the small price-"

"Nah. Someone else throw me a rope."

Faeleth tries to hatch a plan with Tsalta where they trade a ride up for Nothing's ring and split the money from selling it. Tsalta is on board. Spindle, meanwhile, climbs down Tsalta's hair and affixes a rope to a braid, and Nuth scales it.

"Thank you for your selfless help, Spindle! Here you go, kid." She presses a copper coin into his palm and he's happy to get a shiny. Tsalta chirps, "I tried to help too, you know!"

Faeleth quirks an eyebrow and remarks that Tsalta was in on the plan to take Nothing's ring and sell it. Tsalta feigns ignorance and denies it. Nothing knows Faeleth's a sneaky sort, but buys Tsalta's convincing denial and gives her a coin too for the attempted help.

Further into the tunnel, they find a long wooden stretch of floor. Not that that screams 'trap' or anything. Spindleshanks casts Longstrider on himself, takes a very speedy run-up, jumps!!!! And crashes through the boards into a pit of spikes below. Luckily he's not too hurt. While the others debate how to aid him, he takes matters into his own hands, tying a rope to one of his darts and throwing it out through the hole he made.

Faeleth, dexterous elf she is, snatches the dart out of the air. It stabs into her hand, but nobody else would know, her poker face game is so strong. She actually smiles instead of wincing.

Tsalta takes the rope and hauls Spindle up, and through the gap it's clear there's a central stone walkway under the boards, and little shelves on the walls to hold the sides up. Nuth, familiar with the mechanics of climbing rooftops without falling through, proposes everyone spread their weight, and so they do! They crawl across the boards with no problem.

Inwards, onwards. Tsalta is getting increasingly agitated, eager to see the sky. But what the party actually sees is a cross-cross of thick white silk netting the tunnel's span. Spindleshanks whips out a torch and lights it with his Druidcraft - "I asked if anyone had a torch!!!" exclaims an indignant Tsala, who moves in close to the light - and starts to burn through the closest strand.

The strand sizzles then snaps. There's a scuttling as a gigantic spider comes to investigate the disturbance in its web! The spider gets more than it bargained for as Faeleth shanks it right in one of the soft joins in its chitinous exoskeleton - it barely gets in a couple of strikes. Nuth blasts it, Spindle stabs it, Tsalta probably does too...and then Faeleth sneaks beneath it and plunges her rapier (and her entire arm - this area had more give than you'd think) into the spider's underbelly. It's super gross, but it's badass.

Spindle collects one of the eyes not melted away by the Eldritch Blast, and continues burning a path through the web for everyone else. It's laborious (this is giant spider web, it's thick like rope and each piece takes a few seconds to burn through) but effective.

The tunnel air gets fresher. The party can see light, and it's daylight, all signs say this is finally taking them all above ground! Tsalta breaks into a desperate sprint for the overground, and just as she's approaching the opening towards the midday sun her foot sinks down with the familiar CLICK everyone's come to know and fear.

A boulder drops into the tunnel entrance - huge, filling the tunnel perfectly, and approaching at increasing speed.

Tsalta turns and sprints the other way. "Faeleth, grab the testicle cat! Nothing, get ready, I'm going to grab you!"

Faeleth scruffs Spindle and legs it. Nothing sticks her arms up and is practically tackled like a rugby ball, then is tucked safely under Tsalta's arm. Runrunrunrunrun!!!!

Spindle casts Longstrider again, this time on Faeleth! That's one fast elf! She zips down the tunnel, dodging spider web with limited success, she's slowed and the boulder closes in as Tsalta overtakes her. Spindle climbs onto Feyleth's shoulders like a jockey.

Next up, the broken boards - "Go down the middle!!" screams Nothing - Tsalta takes the centre and though the remaining boards smash to pieces under her weight, the stone column holds strong! Feyleth follows, her gnome rider clinging tight.

The greased slope does nobody any favours - Tsalta slides down with relative ease but lands awkwardly, Nuth sprawling on the ground at the base of the ramp. Feyleth and Spindle take the slide no problem, sprinting ever onwards!

Nuth, grease-slippery and stunned, looks on in helpless horror as the giant rock crests the top of the ramp and crashes down.....through her. Goddamnit. "MAGIC BULLSHIT!"

The rock gains on the others, passes through them too, and dissipates into tiny motes of light. Don't you love illusion magic?

Everyone heads back up, passing the old traps with ease, out towards the sunlight. Everyone very gingerly avoids the fake boulder pressure pad. It seems to be around noon, and the cave exits into woodland. Tsalta revels in finally being in sunlight and lets out a booming bovine bellow. Spindle "marks his territory" on a nearby tree. Faeleth catches her breath with her back against a tree. Nothing sits down just outside the cave mouth, head buried in her arms.

The party needs a breather. Tsalta rustles up a light meal for everyone from some greens and mushrooms she can find in the woods. Spindle goes for a wander and climbs a tree. He sights something slinking through the underbrush towards the "camp".

He casts Speak With Animals. "Hey." The creature - a bobcat, old and a little grizzled - looks up into his tree. "Hello. Hell-o-o. I can talk." After a brief explanation from Spindle that no, it's him who can talk, recognition dawns on the old cat's face. "Hairless?" (It transpires that's the name Spindle went by among his bobcat family.) Yeah, that's him. Charlie? Hi!

"Where's the cow?" Spindle has to awkwardly explain there's no cow. Charlie's hungry. Spindle offers him his collection of eyeballs. Charlie tucks in, food's food even if it's eyeballs, but he turns down yesterday's lizard eyes, they're not fresh. He's still hungry. Spindle offers an orange, but that's "rabbit food". Also what's Spindle doing in his territory - especially marking in his prowling zone?

"I didn't know. Also, I just had to go." Spindle shrugs.

They have an awkward conversation, establishing that Spindle's other litter mates left for their own territories years ago, Charlie doesn't know how they are or if they're still kicking. No cow. Spindle asks if Charlie's seen anything or anyone interesting, and Charlie vaguely mentions seeing some man near a big tree up that-a-ways. Well, this has been awkward, there's no cow, see ya...Charlie slinks away again.

Spindle brings this info back to camp! (As he returns, Tsalta is finishing another of her enthusiastic rambles to Faeleth and a distant-looking Nothing: "...and that's how I ended up in bed with Gandalf!") Then he's off away into the trees before anyone can stop him, the rest jumping up and following - shouldn't he be careful? What if the person is Hand! - but they arrive at a grand oak tree and there's nobody to be seen....

They step closer, and a figure manifests from the tree, a translucent black-and-white bearded man. "Finally, someone to accept my quest...." he rasps.

Everyone is understandably a bit wary of the spooky ghost man. What quest? Who is he?

"I am...the Bram-" His raspy voice is a little hard to make out. Tsalta and Nothing cock their heads in tandem - "The plum?"

"....No....the Bram..."

Tsalta merrily chirps, "Alright, Mister Plum! What's this quest of yours?"

He says he was a Druid in life, that he was buried beneath his beloved tree. But animals - well, animals dig as is their nature, and by chance unearthed his grave. His family crest ring has henceforth been stolen by goblins, and he can't rest in peace without it. It bears the sigil of a dragon, and it is his only connection to his wife and children.

Most of the party soften a little to this. Everyone here knows how much family can mean to a person. And this quest is not without reward: he knows (and dislikes) the man the party seek, and will, in exchange for his family ring, offer directions to find him.

Sure, they'll go get his ring. No worries. "The enemy of our enemy is our friend, and all that," adds Nothing.

Turns out finding goblins was easier than expected. Spindle crashes through the underbrush and catches a flash of green - yep, that's a pair of gerblins. The resulting scuffle is quick and brutal, the first goblin getting a chance to alert his companion, Larry, but taking an arrow through the skull moments later. Larry doesn't hold up much longer either.

Faeleth searches the body of one and finds a ring on his person - silver, with a purple gem bearing a dragon-head sigil. Everyone takes a look. Yeah, that seems to be the one...probably! Nuth reckons hers is a way cooler ring still, and Faeleth in return states once again that the fancy ring is trashy. She says it dismissively enough to leave Nothing feeling a little uncertain. Maybe Faeleth genuinely hates it? :(

"Quest" completed with surprising efficiency, the party return to their ghostly friend's tree. There's a brief, hushed debate over whether to give him the ring, but like, he's probably legit. Just spooky. That turns out to be true! He gratefully receives the ring, with a sigh and a smile.

"Bear witness..." he rasps, and the party get collectively nervous as the tree's trunk opens and a branch fishes out an old carry pack. Like, that's spooky wording. Why do nice old dead druids have to be so spooky! But the pack is, as "Mister Plum" said, their reward.

As for Hand and his dogs...he gestures with an arm and a long bough of the oak follows...he passed this way, following the river. He cannot be far away. With this, he vanishes.

Faeleth is first to the bag, taking advantage of the others' hesitancy. Hooooly shit that's a lot of gold in there. That's a whole bunch of gold. She hunches over the bag to obscure the contents and announces that there's...like a quarter as much, as she shovels coins as sneakily as she can into her own bag. Tsalta is the only one to notice, peering over Faeleth's shoulder to see that is definitely more than 100 pieces, but before she can unveil the deception she's offered a sweet deal: Faeleth slips her a large cut of the gold. Tsalta says no more!

Spindle, unaware of the value of gold, refuses his portion of coin, taking a single piece. He only needs one shiny! Nuth is delighted and takes Spindle's share on top of her own - this is the most money she's touched in her life!!!

There's a few other neat shinies too. A copper chalice inlaid with silver, which Faeleth takes. And three small lockets bearing the dragon crest. They're handed to Nuth, to see if they're magic. They're not, per se, but something is....resonating with her, not an enchantment but something more subtle. She pops one open, and inside is a tiny, finely painted portrait - a little girl, red skin, horns. The first image of another tiefling Nothing has seen in her life. She opens the others, fascinated, and finds another two tiefling faces, a man and woman, wearing fine clothes.

(Tsalta takes this chance to ask what Nothing is. She shrugs. A tiefling, is what they say. Dunt know much more than that.)

She asks to keep the lockets. Nobody has any objection.

Tsalta has a few questions, at this point. Like...who is Hand? How do the party know him? She'd rather not see him again, so why pursue him like this? Spindle explains: he killed his father. Tsalta is stricken to tears nearly immediately, even worse as Spindle references the dungeon he was found in. She opens her arms to Spindle and gives the now-crying gnome kid a long hug and a "I'm sure however he died, he wasn't in too much pain at the end." It's not true and everyone knows it, but it's the thought that counts, right?

Over Spindle's little shoulder, she enquires to the others. Nuth explains the kidnapping, that Hand took her...siblings, kinda, as though it didn't matter, said nobody would miss them. But she misses them and she's gonna cave his face in for what he's done. Faeleth simply states that she 'has her reasons'.

Tsalta, all clued in and very emotionally touched by this information, is now very much on board with the mission of revenge-dealing.

So, time to follow the river! The earth is soft, it's easy to find their quarry's trail - they've left clear footprints, some large, some...small. Some pawprints. Some drag marks.

The party follows until they reach a main road - the prints show which way Hand's entourage turned, so at least that's no problem. But the long day has taken its toll and many of the party need time to properly rest and tend their wounds. They put up camp in some woodland off of the roadside and settle in to rest. It's no matter if they wake to journey in the night, they can all see just fine in the dark.

Faeleth keeps watch first as the others sleep, without event. Tsalta takes second watch, again uneventfully, but a little way into the evening she finds herself being systematically pelted with acorns. By a squirrel with a bandana and tiny, tiny sword.

"What's your problem, pal?" she exclaims after the fourth or fifth acorn, rousing Nothing who glances up groggily. (It also prompts Rory to flip her off.) She suggests he's probably some beastie that Spindle knows, then returns to sleep with a shrug. Tsalta wakes Spindleshanks to see if he can't call off the continuing acorn assault - Spindle beckons Rory down to come sleep in Tsalta's hair. He does chuck another acorn or two at her head, to her continued chagrin, but eventually nestles in and rests.

Rory remains in her hair all the way through and into the "morning" (in fact the deep evening), clambering about in there but not causing any further oak-seed-based trouble.

Now that the rested party return to the road, they happen across...lights. Everyone but Spindle ducks into the underbrush to move closer. It's a village of caravans, there's torches burning brightly into the night and jovial voices. Tsalta steps on a twig and draws the attention of a man nearby. "Who's there?"

"Oh, helloooo!" coos Tsalta as she steps out of the treeline, and the man staggers back a little, wide-eyed. A goliath? Tsalta shakes her auburn locks. "Oh, no, it's a long story!" The man then sights, by this giant's side, a tiny grey gnome. Wow, what a night he's having, how much's he been drinking? Any more of you strange folks?

"There's Nothing!" Tsalta grins.

"Oh, good-"

"No, nooo, Nothing. Come on out!" She waves Nuth forward and she awkwardly sidles from the treeline. "A'right."

When Faeleth steps out too, the man is visibly relieved. "Oh thank god, there's someone normal."

"Ayy, we gotta have a token one, don't we!" Nothing elbows Faeleth in the ribs, grinning. She lets out an indignant "Fuck off!"

The man laughs, and calls for his mate Jed. Jed's gotta see this! Jed comes over, and does see, and invites the party into the caravan camp. He chats amicably with the party, recieving more than one jovial back-slap from Tsalta that nearly sends him sprawling. Oof.

The atmosphere is festive. Folks are boozing, and chatting, and being loud and rowdy (but not too rowdy). The party's arrival is met with exuberant fascination, the novelty of these rather unique-looking strangers catching the attention of a practical crowd of people. In the hustle and bustle the group find themselves sort of drawn apart as different folks start talking to them and asking questions - where ya from, you must have so many stories, come sit and drink with us!

Nuth is, for a moment, distracted from her purpose by this amazing experience: people engaging with her without odd distance or fear?? She doesn't even really mind that she's got strangers reaching out to touch her horns, it's just wild as hell that they like her, they all want to know more about her, this is crazy! Buoyed up on the energy of the room, she starts hamming it up: "Arright, who wants to see a cool-ass thing I can do?" They clamour to see. Every torch and campfire nearby whooshes into bright blazing life, and the crowd goes wild! A dude calls out - "But can ya make it BLUE?" - with a flick of her hand, the fires all burn cyan. Uproarious applause and laughter and whooping ensues, and Nuth is practically hoisted onto the arms of her audience. "Ya gotta show this to Terry, mate, he's gonna love ya!"

Some of the rest of the crowd turn to the hulking Tsalta. Anything she can do? "Oh yes, I can call cows!" Might not be as cool as magic colour-changing flames, but her audience is pretty curious to see her party trick. Tsalta cups her hands to her mouth and lets out a bellow....and a few seconds later, there's a few moos back and the clanking of bells as some cows amble out to greet her. She is, of course, pleased as punch and immediately fawns over them. Their keeper approaches and starts introducing her to the cows (the moment he mentions they've got highland cows, Tsalta may as well be in heaven). It'd bore most other folks to death, but the detailed run-down on the bovine stock of the camp's farm is music to Tsalta's ears. Once he's done, he urges her to go meet with Terry - he always likes to meet the newfolk.

Faeleth, who has drawn less attention thanks to her comparatively regular appearance, slips away from the clamour to scope out the camp. She picks her way around the tents, taking note of what she finds. Mainly, it's just people enjoying the night. A little way around there's quieter areas, where the people are dressed just a little better, making affected 'civilised' conversation, sipping wine. She gets close enough to catch the vinegary smell of cheap-ass wine - these folks are more or less as much commoners as the rest, they're just putting on fancy airs.

There's a tent that seems to have an even larger crowd than most up the hill, Faeleth notices, and goes to scope it out. She edges just inside, and a man in the tent notices her near immediately. He seems to have a lot of presence, he's the one folks seem to be looking at.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure of being joined by a wuvly lady elf?"

Faeleth, as everyone also looks her way, turns and walks straight out again.

Spindle dodges the party to go practice his dart-throwing against a nearby tree. He carves a crude eye shape into the bark with a knife, then gets to throwin'. A dude nearby catches sight of this, and staggers his way over. "What you doin' there lad, looks like fun." He hefts an axe into a tree nearby. Spindle shakes his head - "No, no, you don't do it like that!"

He explains the aim of the game: this is the eye, and you have to hit it with a dart.

Fun game, says the dude! His name's Rengar, by the way. You know what else is a fun game? Gambling! Spindle asks what gambling is. Well, it's when you bet money-

"What's money?"

Rengar is tickled pink. He starts explaining the rudiments of money.

"Got any of those copper coins?" Spindle looks blank. "Round metal thing, colour like fall leaves?" Spindle fishes one out. "Yeah, those." Rengar explains thusly: one silver one of those is worth ten of the copper ones. One GOLD one is worth ten silvers, and a HUNDRED coppers. Spindle's following...

Money's a wonderful thing, continues Rengar. Can swap it for stuff. He likes to swap it for booze and women! He holds up a gold coin - just two of these, lad, can get you wonderful things.

So. The dart game! Rengar bets five gold-

"How about ten?" ventures Spindle. Rengar laughs, declines. Five'll do for now while he learns the ropes. At some point, Spindle offers him a sip from his hipflask and Rengar splutters and blinks hard at a glug of it: whooo, that's some strong stuff, kid likes a stiffer drink than he's used to!

They play darts. Spindle, who is NOT pissed as a newt, does considerably better. Mid-game, Rengar ups his bet to the proposed ten coins. Spindle wins them. Fair's fair, Rengar admits, and hands over the coins. Great game, though, what's it called?

"Hmmm. Darts?"

Rengar's gonna tell his mates all about it. And if Spindle wants to learn a few things about the power of money, he should head up to the tent that-a-way. Go in there, show some coin, ask for Diamond and tell 'em Rengar sent you. (Did he wink? He probably winked.) She'll show him everything money can do.

So of course, Spindle heads that way! He finds the aforementioned tent. He enters. A man inside asks for his invitation - Spindle fishes out his coins, shows them. The man seems satisfied and ushers him into another room. Inside, there are a couple of women just sort of sitting around. Spindle approaches one. "Do you have your invitation?" Coins out. She nods. Spindle asks after Diamond. "You're looking for Diamond? Who sent you?" Dutifully, Spindle namedrops Rengar, and the woman is satisfied. She shows him through to another smaller room.

In it, there's a dumpy middle-aged woman, sat at a desk. In her ears, two sparkling diamond drop earrings.

"Rengar said you could teach me about money?"

And teach him about money she does! Diamond sits him down and not only rehashes the basic value of money, but gives him a full economic lecture. This kid probably understands how money works better than the rest of the party...assuming he took any of it in. He's in there for at least half an hour!

When it's all done, she suggests that Spindle go find Terry, if he's new. He likes to meet visitors.

--

So, the party all manage to stumble back into one another. (Well, for Faeleth it's a little more intentional, she picks out Tsalta in the crowd with ease.) Looks like everyone is looking for Terry, huh? Faeleth has a suspicion she knows who that is already.

As it transpires, she's not wrong. The place everyone's been pointed towards is that big crowded tent from earlier. The party makes their way there, noting the big burly human guards peppered here and there around this particular structure.

Terry welcomes them in.

[Chronicler's note: My memory of the conversation with Terry is fuzzy as hell, sorry! I will cover what matters most. :P]

The group learns a few things about Terry.

* He has literal bags of money.
* He is absurdly savvy to anyone trying to sneak any.
* He is also absurdly savvy to people trying to lie to him.
* And he is, without doubt, an absolute tool.

Not long into their meeting, as the group try to ascertain if he knows anything of use, he mentions a "black Halfling". He has everyone's instant attention. They question further, and it transpires that Terry and Hand go way, way back. He travelled, a long while back, and returned with a new friend from a distant land where there were plenty of Halflings with dark skin (who "all talk like this", Terry says, in an approximation of Hand's accent).

Hand passed through here recently, with his wife. Mentioned some "annoying kids" to Terry, apparently, who the group attempt to deny being but fail to be convincing about.

Great. They're buds. Just great. Nuth bristles about this throughout the entire exchange. Faeleth has to restrain herself from reaching for her daggers when Terry tells Spindle to get 'his women' in line (or, you know, something to that effect that is just as douchey and sexist).

Terry proposes a deal: he's got some problems needing dealing with, and he's got info we want. We scratch his back, he scratches ours, ow'ight?

First off, flooded farm where he gets stock from. Needs un-flooding, ow'ight?

Second off, goblin problem. (The number of goblins varies every time he references them. It goes from tens to hundreds.) Goblins causing trouble, they've got a goblin who can shoot fireballs from his 'boom-boom stick'. Need that taking care of, ow'ight?

Third off, some crazy old man called Gandalf, coming down to camp and yellin' slurs all hours of the day and night. Need him to piss off, ow'ight?

Not a single member of the party likes this deal. Primarily because nobody wants to be working for Terry. Partly because Terry reckons the party can pay him for the job doing, and he'll perhaps reward them later. Partly because he's friends with Hand and screw that SO MUCH!

They attempt a series of lies. They did kill some goblins earlier........Terry's having none of it. Where's the boom-boom stick, then? Nuth holds up her staff - "Owight, that's a staff, not a wand, do you think I'm thick?"

So much for deception.

He tries to chivvy the party into making a deal on the spot, but Tsalta convinces him to allow a few minutes of huddle time about it. Nuth muses aloud about the possibility of taking the job but not necessarily doing it depending on how we feel, and is reminded firmly by a bodyguard that uh, yeah, the reason you don't do that is because he's listening. She puts her hands up - "Jus' in theory, yeah? Thinkin' out loud here."

Spindle, either during the conversation with Terry or after, leaves the tent entirely.

The group reluctantly come to a conclusion: probably best to do the jobs. Best case scenario, Terry's info is super worth something. Worst case: losing some time on the trail for nothing.

(Faeleth snipes at Nothing for dicking about at the party for hours and now being worried about losing time on the trail. Nothing hunches her shoulders and says, "You wouldn't get it," but seems to guiltily acknowledge the point.)

Terry returns to the tent to ask if we have a deal. Everyone grumbles about it but Nuth eventually huffs, "Fine."

He extends his hand, and Nuth shakes it, fuming, refusing to meet his eye. A coil of bright golden light winds about their joined hands...bloody goddamn Magic Bullshit strikes again, it's an arcanely bound contract. Should have read the small print! Nuth's so mad right now.

The same light winds around Faeleth and Tsalta's arms. All three can tell that now breaking the deal would be bad news. So much for trying before they buy...

Spindle, outside, does not experience any such lights.

Terry, gracious host that he is, tells his new business partners that they'll be properly outfitted for their jobs - kitted out with relevant weapons, whatever. Curatives. He gives them four potions of healing. The rest can wait till morning.