For More Than Glory

[crystorix]

((Back before Aros left))

Rolf looks pensive at Valdir's question. "Well, I don't know where to look to find such creatures. If we did find one, I'd be happy to serve as go-between, but you'd need to be the one to convince it. As far as training goes, I understand they're quite a bit more intelligent than their smaller cousins, and it'd be more a matter of coming to understanding rather than actual training."

 

[Emiricol]

((The party has just fought a series of invisible and/or illusioned ogres and a small Giant as they proceed through increasingly blighted woodlands in Southern Mittendein. Towards evening they encountered the banks of an unnatural swamp, filled by the constant storms that rage in the area. The native plant and animal life is dead or dying. Backtracking a bit away from the swamp the party set camp for the evening with the intention of praying for guidance from the gods in the morning - deeper into the swamp, or go around?))

With one long glance in the direction of the nearby unnatural swamp, Meier proceeds to settle into the makeshift shelter for the evening, after securing his horses and retrieving his weapons and haversack. Pulling out the last of the cheese, he invites everyone to share in finishing it off.

"I suppose it is a good thing you people talked me out of hiring a valet. Though I am unused to discomfort like this, I think a meager servant would be hard-pressed to work in these conditions." Munch munch.

"Well, hopefully the divination of the cleric will reveal more about this swamp in the morning..."

 

[Memnus]

Fleck shudders once from the cold, but tries to settle into a comfortable spot. "I thought we were going farther from giants as we headed south. Even if these are just something's minions"

Nearby, Bristletail sniffs around, looking miffed at the mud nearly covering him. Suddenly, though, there is a commotion as the fox disturbs a huge black bird from a small hollow. Squawks and yaps compete with the noise of the rain as the bird flaps up and out of the fox's reach.

 

[Rish]

Kirran favors Meier with an amused look. "Well, don't get your hopes up too much. Who knows if we'll get anything useful out of this?" His eyes take on a wicked gleam, and he mimics writing. "'Dear Felicitas, what will we find if we keep going this direction?' 'Lots of mud.'" Pause. "'Dear Felicitas, what should we do to fix this?' 'Slog through the mud.'" Another pause. "You know, I bet someone could make a fortune exporting this stuff as a cosmetic for rich ladies."

 

[crystorix]

((small Giant? You seriously said that?))


The rhythms of the elven forest had been different for Rolf. Slightly disturbing. Here however, in this forest that was turning too-rapidly into a swamp, the rhythms were broken, disjointed, painful.

Drowned.

Rolf felt as if he were fighting for each breath.

He looks up as the fox startles the raven and frowns. There hadn't been much wildlife around anymore. Perhaps the bird knew of an area where the weather was worst. A place the bird would avoid going. A place Rolf wished to go to. He whistles and makes other sounds, coaxing the raven to land on his arm. [Wild empathy +11]

 

[Memnus]

((As giants go, this actually was a fairly small one. Only about ten feet tall - the giants of the legend are much larger than that.))

Fleck digs one finger into the mud and scoops up a dollop, looking at it with distaste. "You're kidding. I can't imagine it'd make for a very popular color. Besides, the import costs would just be ridiculous. Of course, if we sell enough, we'll have dug a hole big enough to make this a more normal lake. Think that'd fix anything?"

Bristletail blinks guiltily as Rolf tries to coax the bird, and immediately retreats to Fleck's side. The bird flaps up to a new perch, staring dubiously at Rolf, clearly not thrilled at coming any closer to the rest of the group.

 

[Rish]

Kirran waves a hand at Fleck. "No, you're missing the point. I heard something once about putting muck on your face and claiming it's good for the skin." He rubs his nose thoughtfully, heedless of the streak of mud it leaves at the coner of his eye. Anticipating a disbelieving look, he goes on, "Look, don't ask me. I think even the skin dye is unpleasant enough, can't imagine wanting to coat myself in something like this voluntarily." He looks dubiously down at muddied clothing. "Present state notwithstanding."

He fishes a somewhat clean cloth out of his pack and sets to cleaning off his daggers and sheaths, making up a little for tripping in the mud getting off his dog.

 

[Emiricol]

Meier wrinkles his nose up at the mention of wearing the mud, and idly scratches an itch on his cheek. Taking a thin slice off his last half-wheel of cheese, he glances up.

"Not sure why people would pay good money for something they could get for free just by going outside their door with a bucket of water. Or for that matter, it's something the beggars would pay to have off them if they had the money. Mud's free - clean costs."

Satisfied that this absurdity is put to rest, he offers the cheese and knife to anyone who might want it.

"Regardless, we won't know until morning, and possibly not then, so planning is sadly futile, except as a contingency, for the moment."

 

[Memnus]

Fleck shudders. "Well, some delicate magical procedures won't work with just any mix of water and dirt. It has to be real swamp mud - the environment infuses a little of itself into the mud, and that essence can be teased out. It'd probably be useful for... hm." He scratches his beard as he searches for an example. "Say you want to enchant a lantern to shine brighter in swampy areas, to bring comfort to the poor saps that get stuck in one." Entirely ignoring the sheer uselessness of such a thing, he plows on. "How are you going to teach the enchantment what a swamp feels like, if your lab is anywhere more comfortable? You couldn't set up a lab here, without nasty adaptations for the humidity and rot. So you need to bring a bit of the swamp home. The same effect could apply to cosmetics, though who'd want authentic swamp on their face is beyond me."

He ponders the mud again. "Not that this dirt has been in a swamp long enough to absord any authentic swampness."

 

[crystorix]

Rolf moves away from the rest of the group a short distance, particularly from the canines, to increase the bird's comfort. He then casts speak with animals.

"Greetings, brother bird. I am a servant of the Forest Queen, and I was hoping you could help me."

Rolf then proceeds to question the avian. He realizes the limitations of the animal's concepts of time and distance, but he tries to get a feeling if there's a place where the weather is particularly worst, or if the bird has any other information that would help Rolf figure out where he has to go or what he has to do.