With this in mind, do all of you still wish to commit to this buku-djungi?"
Jezebel takes notice that Verloc and Garry have not answered Dhakanmirr's questions yet. Puzzled, she asks them, "You two look hesitant. I can understand, what with 'savage beasts' and all, but after all that effort just to get here..."
A look of mild worry on his face, Verloc considers both the elder's warning and Jezebel's mild taunting, he grumbles to himself,
"Didn't know I was signing up for this sloppy jungle slog... hungry plants and monsters my eye..." Then, clearing his throat, he says in a louder voice,
"Um, yes well, we did spend quite a lot of effort getting here. Wouldn't do to just, er, drop out, as it were... Very well, elder I will also commit to this agreement, in exchange for the rewards you've promised."
Listening to Verloc's monologue, Garry nods in agreement.
"Aye, I will commit as well. Besides, the rogue and I have some unfinished business between us," says the Wolfman, casting a baleful eye at Verloc's coinpurse, which seems slightly heavier than his own.
[sblock="re:roll call"]Not sure I want to interrupt the thread with more recruitment at this point. What I'm going to do is continue to NPC for the moment, but write Verloc and Garry out at the first opportunity, leaving room for them to potentially rejoin if their situations lighten up a bit a couple weeks down the road.
Unless Garry and/or Verloc jump back in at some point, I'll just tweak encounters so they're suitable for 4 PCs rather than 6. Between Jezebel and Alnar it seems like we've got almost as many debuffing/area attack options as we would with a full-fledged controller anyway.[/sblock]
"Very well," says Dhakanmirr, having obtained the party's consent,
"Ancestors hear us! In return for information about or the return of the Tjurunga of Marna the Rripangu, Djaapana, Munhaku, and Waltjan peoples agree to provide these adventurers with magical tools and weapons befitting the efforts they undertake to locate what is lost."
The Rripangu elder then taps his index finger to his forehead, then slaps his left fist with his right open palm and declaims:
"Buku-djungi! " All the other clansmen seated on the tree platform answer with the same gesture and utterance.
After this a silence settles over the assembly for nearly a minute, until you begin to wonder if this is some sort of tacit dismissal from the meeting of the clans. Finally however, Botj interrupts the silence:
"All respect djirrikay, but maybe they needing more talk about tjurunga?"
Dhakanmirr's brow furrows for a moment, then his face breaks into a smile.
"Ah yes. Our champions will need a starting point for their investigations. Very well, let me describe to you what it is that you seek."
The frail old man clears his throat, takes a deep breath, then intones:
"The legends say that long ago, and yet ever present today, there is a time outside of time that my people call wangarr or the first dream. In this dream there was only earth and sky. No people, no animals, no plants, devils, or gods. And so it might have remained, the skies clear and the earth sterile, but there was a flaw in this simple pattern. The earth was cracked, floating endlessly on the capricious currents of the sea, and through these cracks...things...began to leak in from some other place, some other dream."
"The earth was not left undefended however, for out of that first dream came the great ancestors who fought against the intrusion of that other place. Many are their names: Baru, the crocodile who watches the shores; Wititj, the python who guards the fresh water; Djaykung, the file snake who brings the rains and cleanses the skies; Marrpan, the great turtle who is the rock upon which all is built; and other lesser ancestors to numerous to name here. The great ones fought long and hard, driving the intruders back through the cracks in the world. Afterward though, they were exhausted, yearning to return to the earth from which they sprang. Yet before they could go the ancestors knew they needed to leave something behind to keep their vigil and ensure that the balance of this world was not disrupted. So they breathed life into this world causing the skies to come alive with winds, and the earth to blossom with plants and animals who bear part of their spirit and are the little ancestors. Finally, they raised up out of the belly of the earth my people, the four first peoples of this land, each clan with its own season and piece of creation to look after."
"And then the ancestors returned to the earth, each one transforming themselves into a great stone to fill the cracks in the world. You sit now upon the back of Marrpan, the great turtle, who is the island that you call Kythira," says Dhakanmirr, with a wave of his hand to indicate the ground at the base of the mangrove tree in which you all sit.
"But, though the great ancestors returned to the earth, they did not abandon their children. Each great ancestor invested a large part of its own spirit in a powerful object called a tjurunga. Using the power of these tjurunga, my people can hold rituals to consult the great ancestors on matters of concern to us all and to call down their blessings in time of need. They are our link to the vitality and power of this land."
"But the Djaapana people have lost the tjurunga of Marna," says Dhakanmirr with a scornful glance in the direction of Matjala, who hangs his head in shame at his elder's rebuke,
"and so they suffer without the great shark's blessing to bring in the bounty of the seas. But they suffer justly, for who can say what calamity will come if the lifeforce of the ancestor who guards our deepest waters has fallen into the wrong hands."
Standing up Dhakanmirr ventures over to one of the thickest, most gnarled branches that supports the tree platform. He turns back to the assembly saying,
"I must now ask my clansmen to look away. What I am about to show you can only be seen by those of my people in whom the blood of the ancestors flows the strongest, and who have the strength of spirit to look upon great power. Do not fear though, for you the tjurunga holds no great danger, and will appear fairly mundane." Turning to the rest of the assembly he speaks quickly in his own tonuge,
"Walala, yaka nhunu dhu tjurunga nhama."
All present except the four elders avert their gaze or close their eyes as, with a few whispered words, Dhakanmirr reaches his hand into a hollow in the great mangrove tree that you had not noticed before, or perhaps one that was not previously there. He extracts a small dark object and then, rigid and tense, strides over to where the party sits. He places the object in Alnar's hand motioning him to examine it, and allow the other party members to do likewise. The thing is made of a reddish, fine grained wood with a weight and density greater than any wood you've ever handled. It is roughly the size of your hand, shaped like a slightly oblong, rounded diamond with an opening like a mouth at one end bearing two rounded lumps reminiscent of fangs. There are no tool marks or any evidence that the thing was fashioned by mortal hands.
[sblock="Arcana or Religion 18"]When you hold the object it is warm to the touch and you feel a tiny vibration. You hear the faint echo of what seem to be thousands of hissing, serpentine voices as if speaking from a great distance, but you cannot make out what they are saying.[/sblock]
After accepting the object back from your party, Dhakanmirr secures it once again in its arboreal fastness before speaking again. The other clansmen open their eyes and refocus their gazes on the proceedings after the elder gives the signal that it is safe to do so. He speaks in a wavering voice, apparently shaken by his brief contact with the object,
"What you have just held, adventurers, is a piece of the spirit of Wititj. The Python, the river, guardian of the fresh waters. All tjurunga bear some physical resemblance to the ancestor whose spirit they house. They are all made of the bones of the earth, just like that which you've just held. What you seek will be similar in size, and material, but bear the essence of the shark."
"We would seek this object ourselves, but circumstance forbids us. For, though we are the first people of this land, we have never excluded others who would consent to live by its laws. Perhaps this was unwise though, as our neighbors now greatly outnumber us, so we cannot openly question their integrity and create ill will among our peoples. Already they already harbor deep grudges against one another, and the threat of violence, though unspoken, is there. You must seek this missing tjurunga among our uneasy neighbors: the shifters to the east, near Moonshadow Lake, and the gnomes to the west in the village of Laughing Glade."
"You should now have a basis from which to act, though doubtless you have questions. Though we have few facts about the disappearance of our sacred heirloom, our suspicions are many. Ask us what you would know."
