The Fall of Plaguestone

[[Standard RP formatting applies]]

It has been three days since you left Elidir, climbing into the back of one of Bort Bargith's wagons bound for the far-away Andoran capital of Almas. The boisterous caravan master cut your travel costs to only a handful of coppers in exchange for some odd-jobs and maybe the occasional caravan defense. Fortunately the journey through the hinterlands of Isger so far has been quiet, even if the ride itself has been far from comfortable.

As you broke camp this morning, Bort announced you should arrive at the town of Etran’s Folly by nightfall, and he promised a comfortable bed for the night as a reward for a long day’s travel. The caravan’s teamsters shared a chuckle between them, trading knowing glances and subtle nods, but soon enough you are on the road again, the wagon bouncing and creaking along the uneven trail.

For the first time in your journey the cooking pot in the back wagon is cold, the old one-eared elf Cooky instead rifling through his various ingredients in anticipation of a resupply in town. Alongside the caravan rides a younger gnome, Glunda, occasionally chatting with the animals, while in the front wagon the great Dwarf Bort himself sits chatting with his second in command, the Half-Orc Tamli.

One of the riders, a gnome with shoulder-length purple hair and a beard, fidgets for a while before pulling an ocarina out of their pouch again. This gnome has a very long name, but considerately shortens their name to their favorite syllable, Cass. Those in the caravan know that Cass is a performer always on the move for new experiences. Furthermore, the gnome traveled with an instrument small enough to carry on the road, and had spent the last couple of days making the trip a little less dreary with music. The time Cass isn't playing, they're making conversation with other passengers and getting to know them, finding a kindred wandering spirit in Arngrimir particularly. Nothing they learn about the others seems to rattle or disturb them, even when meeting Tara's fleshly spider familiar, and they seem delighted to learn any new thing they can.

But today, most of the conversation had already been made, and it was back to the ocarina. Cass had really been hoping for something else to do - not that playing their instrument was bad, of course, but they always looked for new experiences, not doing the same thing for three days. Well, it couldn’t be helped with travel. At least the trip was ending soon.

They decide to try a new tune.

[Performance: 10]

To their own ear, it sounds mediocre, but not grating, at least. Well, that would do for now. New tunes were always tough the first time or two.

Arngrimir gives a faint smile as the tune is played. ”It’s a bit rough yet, but I’m sure it will be a rousing tune as ye learn it.”

”At least this isn’t the first you’ve heard me play,” Cass comments with a grin, breaking away from the ocarina for the moment. ”That would be a bit embarrassing as a first impression! I’m sure I’ll get a better handle on this particular song the second go round, yes.”

A young half-elf woman with short blonde hair and spectacles has been bobbing her head in time to the music. "It's at least better than sitting here in silence." In the time you've known her, you've learned that she was formerly a physician in Vigil before its untimely destruction, and that she studied alchemy in Magnimar. You've also met Boris, her disturbing flesh spider familiar who she dotes on.

”That’d be true,” Arngrimir says with a nod. ”Silence in the middle of nature is breathtaking. Silence in a filled wagon is awkward.”

Cass chuckles and resumes playing, that being the consensus.

Also bobbing along with the music is Aralee, a young halfling woman with orange hair. She has been somewhat quiet, though not unfriendly; it's just quite clear that she doesn't want to talk about herself. However, she seems quite fascinated by Tara and her familiar, as she has been watching them quite closely.

Flying around the wagon is her own familiar, a magpie. At this point, Arngrimir has noticed the bird's unnatural behavior, though he hasn't seen any evidence of a connection between the bird and Aralee.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon pass without anything breaking the routine of the past few days. Late into the afternoon, the sound of hoofbeats pounds down the road as the caravan's two scouts, and only permanent guards, approach: a pair of Ulfen twins by the name of Olf and Ulf.

"Plaguestone's just up ahead, shouldn't be more than another half an hour," One of the twins reports to Bort as the pair draws alongside his wagon. There's no time for celebration though, as no sooner does the statement fade from his lips than it is overshadowed by a series of long, mournful howls emanating from the woods to either side of the caravan. Moments later, the road is filled with cries of panic as a pack of mangy wolves descends from the surrounding forest with teeth bared!

Arngrimir stands up from the wagon and steps onto the ground. "Ay wolves, don't eat us. We taste like vegetables," he yells out. The wolves however do not seem impeded at all, and even growl at his approach. Arngrimir sighs and draws his axe. "Now's probably a good time to mention that I'm not very skilled at getting animals to listen to me."

With animal diplomacy having failed, battle is joined, with Arngrimir quickly cutting down one of the wolves,as another pair jumps the now exposed Cass. Tara forcibly hands out her medicines and a now-panicking Aralee debates exposing her magic before self-preservation wins out, and with the help of a strange, colorful polyhedron and magical incantation a bolt of magic strikes one of the wolves. And not a moment later the fight is interrupted as another, larger wolf approaches from the trees, green slime frothing from its mouth to fall hissing to the forest floor.

Magic, axes, and medicine fly as battle rages on, as the smaller wolves are quickly dispatched and a strong blow is landed to the frothing wolf's shoulder. It retaliates with a surprising blast of acid from it's jaws, but Arngrimir, the target of it's rage, easily avoids the attack and retaliates with a mighty blow to fell the foul beast. As it falls with a crash, the remaining few wolves that were harrying the rest of the caravan flee with their tails between their legs.

Aralee catches her breath. They'd survived... but now...

"I-I'm sorry," she says. "Please don't burn me or anything."

Tara raises an eyebrow. "... burn you?"

”Last I checked, wolves aren’t supposed to spit acid,” Arngrimir says as he kneels down to start inspecting the carcass. As he looks over the corpse his fist angrily clenches. ”And this one wasn’t supposed to either. It’s been stitched over and has acid burns from its own bile. What kind of sick fiend would do such things to an innocent animal?”

”I don’t think you have much to worry about, in present company,” Cass points out to Aralee with a grin. ”I was throwing around just as much magic as you, after all! And your spells might’ve helped keep everyone safe just now too.”

"Oh... well, yeah..." Aralee chuckles nervously. "I'm just... not used to being accepted."

Cass nods understandingly. ”I’ve never worried too much about acceptance, but it’s nice when it comes, aye?” They pivot back over to Arngrimir and the acid wolf. ”Oh, someone created a new creature of sorts? Fascinating! Or, well, I suppose it would be if it didn’t hurt the wolf in the process,” they hastily amend their statement.

Tara frowns sympathetically at Aralee, but turns her attention to the wolf and kneels next to it, examining the froth at its mouth. "This is alchemical in nature. Some... monster was performing torturous experiments on this poor creature with alchemy."

Aralee sighs with quite a bit of relief, then turns to listen to Tara. "That's terrible..."

At this point Bort approaches, looking over the wounds the group has sustained. His eyes also scan over the wolf, the topic of discussion. "That does sound horrible," The dwarf says, his arms crossed. "I'm not sure there's anything we can do about it right now though. Are you all okay though? Some of those bites look bad," He adds, looking back to the group's wounds.

Tara sighs as she stands. "I can stitch everyone up, maybe mix up a few more elixirs if we need it. Anyone hurt on your side of the caravan?"

Arngrimir stands up. ”I’m a bit roughed up, but I’ll live. Not my first time getting mauled by wild animals. Definitely won’t be the last either.”

Tara raises an eyebrow. "Arngrimir, that big wolf nearly bit your leg off. You're going to let me look at it on the way into town."

Arngrimir looks down at the large bit wound on his leg. ”Right, I should probably fix that before infection sets in,” he says before casting a spell on himself. The wounds on his leg slowly knit back together. ”Should be fine now, for the most part.”

Tara frowns as she watches. "That may be so, but magic has its limitations. There could be internal damage that your spell didn't get, and I'd still like to double check."