Day 422
I have left the ship behind me earlier than I had planned. The sea made me uncomfortable. It is not sea sickness, but rather the waves and their sinuous movements. Despite the completely different element, they bear too much resemblance to the slowly shifting dunes of my former home.
I cannot yet bear being reminded me too much of Cuzar, so I left at the next harbor, the port city of King´s Cove.
This city, too, fills me with distaste, so I venture further inland. Maybe the forests in the north are quieter…
Day 521
Today, I decided to answer a call for a group of “adventurers”. I do not consider myself an adventurer, but I am short on coin and it might prove to be an interesting diversion.
Day 523
I arrive at the appointed time in a local tavern in “Waldruh”, a tiny village.
It´s a pleasant surprise to meet Atalla, a human druid, there.
We became acquainted a few weeks earlier, and it´s a joyous, if muted, reunion. She too came here to answer the call to adventure and we soon meet the other two that came to help: Gell, a half-orc and Glim, a gnome.
We do not have to wait for long, and a child arrives to bring us to our client´s abode.
After a brief walk we get to a mansion of sorts. The way it is built apart from the hamlet suggests either a position of rulership or a desire to be apart; I can not yet tell which it is.
Once inside, we are introduced to Ilaria, the lady of the house and a tiefling called Anathea, who is, to my understanding, a bodyguard of sorts.
Without further ado, the nature of our task is revealed to us: Ilaria´s offspring, an infant named Tam has been abducted.
My companions take great interest in the reward, but I do not hesitate to begin questioning Ilaria, Anathea and Brokk, whose role is explained as a manservant of the house.
I frown at the idea of a person being a servant to another – it reeks of slavery – but keep my opinion to myself.
We begin by investigating the child´s room, only to find that there are no signs of a forceful entry into neither the mansion, nor the room. A piece of evidence presents itself however: A blue-white shred of fabric torn from a garment, a garment we have seen before on the personnel of the tavern!
I decide to interrogate the gnome, Brokk, about his duties and the night of the abduction. He is not particularly helpful, and I make it clear that in my culture, failure to protect the tribe´s children is punished by exile. What use is a member of the group if they can not commit to this simple, yet most crucial of tasks?
My remark earns me a round of shocked and exasperated looks.
Apparently, speaking openly is frowned upon in these parts. Still, I do not pursue this line of questioning any further; After all I am the stranger in these lands and I do not know these people´s customs very well.
My allies´s lines of questioning towards Ilaria and Anathea is regarding the motives of the abductors. Ilaria admits that she is not very fond of the inhabitants of the village… and that animosity is likely mutual. She thinks that the villager´s might have taken the child out of fear of the unknown, fear of the forest, maybe even fear of her? Apparently, she feels a greater connection to nature than her fellow humans, if the copious amount of paintings of the forest are any indication.
While I am processing this information, it dawns on me that there is not one, but two wrongdoings at work here:
The crime of abduction, but also the crime of neglect, either on the part of the manservant, or of the bodyguard.
Still, it may not be too late to bring back the child, so the sword of accusation will remain sheathed. For now.
We we venture back to the village to question Horok, the tavern owner.
On the way back, Gell suggests to go directly to the tavern servant´s house, as we have a strong suspicion that she is the one whose clothing was torn while taking the child.
I warn him that kicking a scorpion´s nest is never a good idea.
The metaphor is lost on the others, however.
Maybe they do not know what a scorpion is; I should familiarize myself with the wildlife in these northern forest, to find more apt metaphors.
Back in the tavern, we briefly talk to Horok, to find out how many serving personnel he employs and I also ask him if he feels any animosity from the villagers, him being a half-orc. He denies it and we speak of it no further.
Apparently, the villagers´ fear of the other does not extend to half-orcs.
In the meantime, some local youths have gathered in the bar room, among them the serving girl Ella, our main suspect.
We concoct a plan to engage them in conversation, while Glim sneakily takes a peek at her coat, to see if the shred of cloth actually belongs to her or not.
However, the discussion gets heated and ends with the girl storming out into the night. The boy Grim, who also seems to know something about the matter, follows her, but I manage to corner him and begin questioning him.
The youth is clearly frightened of us and spouts some nonsense about “doing what had to be done”, similar to the impression I had of the girl Ella. I briefly lose my temper and lift him up by the scruff of his neck, pin him against the wall and demand to know what exactly is going on. He does not get much more specific than before, but he points me toward a spot at the fringes of the forest. Is this where the girl ran to?
I leave him with a warning, that it is never a good idea to start a war against the unknown, lest it fight back.
He too fails to comprehend.
We make our way towards the forest edge, to where the boy indicated. Sure enough there is a path, lightly trodden, but clearly visible, and we begin marching into the gloomy thicket. Night is falling, and as we trudge along the narrow path, surrounded by thorny undergrowth, my thoughts begin to drift a little…
The atmosphere is unsettling, menacing even. I am unsure whether there should be more animal noises from the forest or less.
Some of my companions can see in the dark, but Atalla and I can not, so we light a pair of torches to guide our way. The flames cast eerie, flickering shadows and I have the sensation of being watched. Maybe the villagers´ fear is not entirely unfounded and there is indeed something lurking in these woods?
After a time we come upon a clearing, with some manner of shrine at the center, but before we can investigate it, a trio of arrows swish past us, and I hear the screeching tongue of goblins.
I spot one of them in the clearing and start charging toward it. My allies return fire with Javelin and bow, while Atalla summons a mass of vines which entangles a second of the fiends.
Just before I can reach my foe, a third one bursts out of the scrubs to my left and slashes open my thigh. Still, I continue towards the first one, trusting in the ability of my companions to keep the second off my back. It´s only goblins after all. As my foe nocks their next arrow, I grasp it by the neck, lift it up and demand surrender, using their own foul tongue.
It shrieks something about it being too late, and someone coming. I have no idea what it means and begin restraining it, while behind me the sounds of battle fade. My associates have killed the greenskin behind me and knocked the third one unconscious.
Just as we begin to bind them with rope, we hear a child´s cry, from the direction of the shrine…
This is written from the view of Ramas, a character I play in a DnD 5th Editition campaign. Ramas is a first level Fighter.
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