Arra nearly fainted when the dagger swung out and stole her hair. Knowing little enough of magic, she would have had no idea what this could be used for...until the warning, that he would always know where she was and what she does. And the safety of her home in the woods meant everything to her. Rather than lead him to her in any way, she remained, listening.

She took a deep breath, and then another, and calmly replaced the goose from where she'd pilfered it.

"I'm...I'm listening..."

They found Geron in his room of the Golden Barley Inn. His bandages had been freshly cleaned and he looked a bit healthier than he had at Jethro’s funeral. One by one they entered. Visions of the night of the hunt came back when they saw each other again, but they also felt the bond that had been made. When all of them were there, Geron pushed himself up slightly and spoke:

“I got a message from Ryan this morning. He has been sent to Calestra for an adventure of his own; one that you cannot join right now, for I have a different proposition for you.”

He took a few moments to catch his breath. Speaking, it seemed, took quite the effort.

“An old acquaintance of mine sent me a message a few days ago, requesting my aid. I visited Stone’s Hollow on my way to Sedostra, where the message came from.”

They had all heard of the village of Sedostra. It was so small that it didn’t even have an inn. In fact, Sedostra was more a community of farms than an actual village. But still, everyone in Stone’s Hollow had heard of the place, since it was well known in all of Coria for its mushrooms. Sedostra Mushrooms had a rich flavour, a meaty texture and were coveted by the poor and the wealthy alike. If something was amiss in the community, it was going to affect business sooner or later.

“I would like you to take my place and find out what the trouble is in Sedostra. Look for Brokkrok. Khordaldrum fellow. He’ll stick out like an orc in a midsummer festival.”

Geron pointed to a corner of his room. A blanket had been used to cover something bulky. At his request, they removed the blanket and found a pile of adventurer’s equipment.

“This is part of the merchandise salvaged from the Stone’s Hollow Beast’s lair. Since nobody can claim ownership I pulled a few strings with the mayor. It is yours now. Divide it well. There is also a pouch with some gold coins that you can use for food and lodging, should you need it. Please accept these items and my quest.”

(OOC: equipment list has been altered on your sheets. The money is in the group cash for now, but you can always decide to divide it among you.)
They each made the necessary arrangements for another departure, and then gathered back on the town’s square. There were many people about, and they paused to stare at the group, dressed as they were in travellers’ outfits, backpacked and adorned with weapons.

“Off to kill another monster?” A bearded man inquired. “Shinara watch over you.”

“Come home safe, yea?” a woman selling apples yelled, and gave them each a Scarlet Fewseed for the road.

More people stopped and wished them luck and safety and a prosperous return. Some even applauded when they walked by.

When they were almost out of Stone’s Hollow they were halted by a peculiar creation. At first glance they thought it was a beggar, with her ragged clothes and dirty looks. But this was no normal girl. From head to toe she was covered in fur, and her face was feline, including whiskers and pointy teeth. A Kazari, Glitch knew.

“I would like to join you in your quest.” She stated. “I can fight, and I want to prove I’m just as brave as you are.”

They found that she was extremely determined, and would follow them if they refused her a place in the group. And so they continued their journey a party of five.

---

Sedostra was a small community indeed. It was widespread, with many farms, but there was something resembling a town square, and even a small temple for Solanis, God of Light and Life. It looked like it was in need of some maintenance though.

As it lacked a proper inn, the group was directed to Granny Tapestry’s Guesthouse. Granny Tapestry was an old lady, whose late husband had been a farmer (of course). With no children to continue the business and no real income to support herself she had decided to make use of the spacious building in a different way. Her living room functioned as entrance and common room, with a corridor leading off to the chambers.

“Brokkrok you say?” Granny Tapestry asked them. “Yes, he has a room here as well. Strange man, but very friendly. He’s very short though. Not really a midget, but not like the tall farmsons we have here in Sedostra.”

She giggled as she collected payment for her rooms. “I will give you ladies a room for yourselves, and the men probably won’t mind staying together as well, is that right? You can bring your packs this way please.”

She showed them the rooms, which were wide, but with low ceilings. The girls’ room had a single box bed, and a luxurious carpet covering most of the floor. The men’s chambers were a bit more sober, with two box beds on either side of the room, and a wooden floor which creaked heavily when they entered.

(OOC: You guys are going to have to share beds. The men will have to quarrel about who sleeps where. That’s Q/A stuff though. )
“I think I hear your friend in the living room. Let me go see.”

Granny Tapestry stumbled off and returned a few moments later with a Khord who looked every bit ready for battle. They seated themselves and Brokkrok gave them a quick head’s up to the problem.

Sedostra’s Mushroom farms had been prosperous and ran steadily and peacefully. Lately though, some of the farmers had disappeared. Brokkrok had investigated the matter and concluded that none of Sedostra’s inhabitants had anything to do with it. There was no competition or rivalry in the community. Each farm produced different mushrooms and kept it that way. Then, one evening, a skeleton had been seen walking the Moistcap mushroom beds of the Ribault family. Brokkrok had dealt with the creature, and decided that there was more to this situation than he alone could handle. That’s when he had called for Geron Twoblades.

(OOC: Welcome Hammer’s character to the game! I know you guys must have a lot of questions concerning Brokkrok’s knowledge of the matter. Please put these in the Q/A where I can answer them.)

Guesthouse of Sedostra
The 4'5" silver haired and silver bearded Khord, sporting a single Emerald braid in the center of his beard, headed straight for a chair and table the furthest removed from the entrance door of Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse of Sedostra, a tiny village near the Sylvari border.

He carried himself as though he were at least four and a half feet tall, and at times even five feet tall, as he patiently waited for Granny to make a room ready for him to inhabit.

With little effort he removed his back pack and bedroll ... easing them to the floor behind his table ... then placed his two and a half foot Longsword against the wall ... near enough to his right hand ... then seated himself unceremoniously with his back to the wall, so he could closely watch all who entered or left the quaint establishment from this undisturbed vantage point.

Slowly he leaned over to examine his back pack, making sure that his full water skin and full wine skin (that were fastened to the left side and right side of his back pack respectively) were not leaking. It also contained one week's worth of Trail Rations, one Healing Kit and one Everburning Torch.

In spite of his appearance, this was a Khord with a good heart and a free spirited soul (Chaotic Good Alignment) on a mission of the utmost importance! His name was simply Brokkrok.

There was a faint glint of a Chain Shirt underneath as he Pulled the hood of his Dwarven War Tunic from his head, exposing a curious looking eye patch that covered his left eye, as his bright green right eye quickly surveyed his surroundings.

The black eye patch bore the insignia of Ghardan Aclar the Stalwart Blade (known as Therassor the God of Righteous Battle to other worshipers) which served as the cleric's holy symbol during times of warfare. Stitched in silver was the symbol of the steel disk embossed with a shining sword.

It seemed to have a sight of its own that fairly stared right through whoever or whatever Brokkrok focused his attention upon at any given time or place.

Such was the case when the serving girl cautiously approached the 60 year old 140 pound Khord and asked him what he would like to drink.

"Bring me a tankard of your finest Crimson Cloudburst Wine ... and another tankard of your finest Blue Shatterstar Wine," growled the Khord. His apparent gruffness catching him and the serving girl both offguard, so he tried to be a bit more pleasant before she turned away from his table, "and if you happen to see an old travel worn war horse by the name of Geron ... please inform him that Brokkrok awaits his presence at my customary table!"
When the serving girl returned with his order, Brokkrok pressed a gold coin into her trembling hand as he offered a strained smile with a courteous nod, before sampling each tankard with equal enthusiasm.

His 'eyes' quickly surveyed the room once more as the Khord instinctively reached down to the outside of his left boot to make sure that the knife strapped to the outside bearing the same insignia as his eyepatch was securely in place.

Simultaneously his right hand reached for each of his throwing axes that bore the same insignia, making sure both were securely fastened to each side of his belt pouch, but able to be loosed at a moments notice if needed. Then he patted the handle of his 2' 6" Longsword that bore the same insignia, before settling into his seat to concentrate on other matters occupying his mind.

As he slowly surveyed the common room of the guesthouse once more, Brokkrok made sure that the 5 Acid Flasks and 5 Holy Water Flasks secured in his pouch belt were readily accessible if needed.

Relaxing a bit, the Khord Cleric of the Stalwart Blade pulled a bag of Zesti Spores from a bag secreted in his Dwarven War Tunic and stared momentarily at the white colored spores that were the size of mini cheese puffs.

Zesti Spores were only beneficial to Khords; as these mild hallucinogens satisfied the taste buds of a hungry Khord for whatever type of Khord food that a famished Khord could desire. They also served as a Khord vitamin and nutrition supplement to help maintain a healthy constitution.

Brokkrok had 120 such Zesti Spores secreted in his pouch, but he decided to order a plate of fish and fresh vegetables with a pitcher of water to help curb his appetite and stroke his patience, while he waited for Granny Tapestry to get his room ready for occupancy.

He resisted the urge to consume one of the countless Glittery Gold hallucinogenic shrooms he had secreted in another bag, the long purple stemmed shrooms that branched out into 5 tendrils with glittery gold specks on the small bulbous ends (about an inch in length and 1/4 inch thick stem and tendrils).

Instead, the cleric chose to remove one of a dozen shrooms from each of two different bags, laying both carefully on the table, as the serving girl brought him his plate and pitcher. Brokkrok politely handed her another gold coin, before thoughtfully munching his food, all the while staring at the 2 shrooms, then periodically surveying the common room.

The first shroom was a Sulpha Stinkpuff Spore. A silver umbrella shaped shroom with little purple-brown bead bulbs all over and under the umbrella shaped top and underside.

This spore explodes into a horrendous sulfur stench that lingers and can be tracked either by sense of smell ... or by silvery purplish brownish traces from the victim's body or footprints/pawprints.

Brokkrok absent mindedly stroked his long Emerald braid, trying to figure out how to successfully crossbreed this spore with the Stunner Shroom that lay a few safe inches away from the Sulpha Stinkpuff Spore.

The Stunner Shroom being a Purple Paralysis Shroom, that is a light green colored umbrella shaped shroom with purplish splotches that explodes into a concussive purplish paralysis effect, wherever the purplish substance explodes and projects into the skin or fur of its victims.

The eye patch over his left eye attested to the fact that the Cleric of the Stalwart Blade had yet to safely discover a way to successfully crossbreed the two shrooms into the potent weapon he desired to create.

He spooned another mouthful of delicious vegetables into his mouth and tugged thoughtfully at his Emerald braid, remembering how he had been awarded the Emerald braid twined in his beard for a brave and heroic accomplishment from his past.

Emerald Braid Brokkrok had been orphaned at an early age and only knew that his parents were members of the Stalwart Warriors or Ghardankuldar, who served Ghardan Aglar (Stalwart Blade). They had given their lives in a nameless battle to protect the numerous families of Khords who were assigned to mine the Granite or to cultivate the multitude of rare shrooms found only in the cavernous mushroom fields and mine shafts deep beneath the surface world.

At the age of 10 Brokkrok was assigned to help tend to the mushroom fields for his keep, under the guidance and training of another old Cleric of the Stalwart Blade named Stonegrinn. Stonegrinn treated Brokkrok like his own son and shared many secrets with the cleric in training over the course of the next 15 years.

On his 25th birthday (April 15) the young cleric was assigned to patrol the underground mushroom fields and to protect the families who worked there. Brokkrok served the families well and was promoted at the age of 30 to help guard the shipments of mushrooms, giving him his first taste of the outside world and its wonders and dangers.

This also allowed him to see first hand the Wineries where his favorite wines Crimson Cloudburst and Blue Shatterstar were grown and produced that he had grown accustomed to drinking while serving as a protector of the shroom fields.

It was during this period of time that Brokkrok met Geron TwoBlades when Geron was working for an important government organization from Coria. His business was quite secret, but it involved mushrooms ... in large quantities ... and Brokkrok was instrumental in providing Geron with key information regarding the care and transportation of the infinite varieties of shrooms from the Khord caverns.

Brokkrok also had the good fortune of battling some Shroom Raiders that Geron was investigating ... resulting in Geron letting Brokkrok know that if he ever needed his help ... that Geron would do his best to aid his friend no matter what type of problem Brokkrok found himself facing in the future.

Ten years ago, at the age of 50, several Khord families were hired to add their Khord expertise to the cultivation and production of various mushroom fields throughout the regions of the surface world.

For the next 3 years Brokkrok and a few others selected from the ranks of the Stalwart Warriors were assigned to patrol the trade routes between the Khord and other shroom fields.

One fateful day one of the many Khord Mushroom Caravans was attacked by a particularly vicious band of Shroom Raiders, resulting in the capture of 3 young Khord children ... who would most assuredly be held for ransom ... or much worse.

Brokkrok chose 2 of his most trusted and bravest Stalwart Warriors to help him find a way to rescue the children, while the remainder of the Stalwart Warriors launched an unexpected surprise attack against the main force of Shroom Raiders.

Unknown to the rescuing band of Stalwart Warriors, the main force of Shroom Raiders was outnumbered by a second group sent to smuggle the children to a far away land where they would fetch a handsome price for their exotic appeal.

The trio fought valiantly, but the blade of Brokkrok's longsword was broken in the heat of battle. Somehow the young cleric located the 3 hostage children, while his companions drew the hostiles into the cloak of darkness surrounding the forest encampment; unfortunately resulting in their deaths ... while the now weaponless Brokkrok relied on his cleric abilities to rescue the 3 children and lead them to safety.

Brokkrok blamed himself for the deaths of the two Stalwart Warriors, due to his broken blade, although he was awarded a priceless Emerald to braid in his beard ... for rescuing the 3 children and eluding their captors, while the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade was seemingly hopelessly outnumbered.

Brokkrok returned to the deep caverns of the mushroom fields a few months later, convinced that he must do some type of solitary penance for the deaths of his former comrades in arms. Several of the Khord elders were unable to convince him otherwise, no matter how much they praised him for his heroic efforts in rescuing the 3 children from a fate worse than death.

Armed only with a Knife and 2 Throwing Axes, Brokkrok went back to tending shrooms and protecting the families of the Granite miners and Shroom harvesters.

It took Brokkrok almost a month to bring himself to pick up another Longsword ... after much prayer ... and penance unto his deity ... resulting in an almost fanatical prayer and training regimen over the next 23 months to atone for his self perceived failure!

Sent to an Old Friend Stonegrinn observed how his adopted son Brokkrok continually blamed himself for the death of his two companions and decided that his old friend Loco Fungihammer, who dwelt in the Caves of Madness, was the only Khord alive who could possibly advise Brokkrok on how to cope with the losses, because the old cleric Stonegrinn had now become too feeble to aid the suffering of his adopted apprentice.

Brokkrok has spent about the last 5 years in the Caves of Madness with Loco, where he soon learned that Loco copes with his own losses of dead friends ... by consuming shrooms. Loco only leaves the Caves of Madness when the shrooms and his deity reveal a Dark Danger threatening Khourd children.

While shrooming on 'Glittery Gold', young Brokkrok recently beheld a dark vision of a 'Mushroom Field being overshadowed by Darkness'. This disturbing vision stirred Brokkrok to consider leaving the company of Loco Fungihammer to investigate whatever dire menace was now stalking the surface.

Loco suggested that Brokkrok pay a last visit to the ailing Stonegrinn, before making a hasty decision, where he soon discovered that shipments of his beloved Crimson Cloudburst and Shatterstar wines during the past few weeks ... plus some mushroom shipments ... have mysteriously disappeared.

In the light of this new disturbing revelation, Brokkrok dispatched a courier to locate his old friend Geron TwoBlades. He instructed the courier to meet the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade at Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse in Sedostra, a tiny village near the Sylvari border.

Brokkrok reasoned that by the time the courier was able to locate the whereabouts of Geron TwoBlades, the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade would have had ample time to investigate the strange vision and thus determine if he would need to send the courier back to Geron TwoBlades with a request for his assistance.

Then Brokkrok returned to the Caves of Madness to consult once more with Loco Fungihammer, before returning to the surface world (after many years of absence) to journey to Sedostra.

Loco Fungihammer Swept back into the cesspool of his clouded memories ... Loco was helpless to withstand the flood of memories assailing his mind ... remembering the dark visions ... and the dangers that were to follow ... children needing a champion ... nay ... several champions ... to free them from their fears ...

He had heeded such visions thrice before ... as the sapphire, emerald and ruby stones in the three braids of his silver beard did attest ... but the last rescue had cost the adventurer dearly ...

His childhood friend ... one Stinkpod Stonecutter ... had given his life in the gallant effort to rescue the children ... for Loco had been forced to choose ... the life of his friend ... or ... the life of the children ... and the results of his choice ... had driven the Cleric to a life of solitude for countless years in a secluded cavern ... in the Caves of Madness ...

From the depths of those Caves of Madness ... Loco had found solace with his mushrooms ... and countless barrels of Bitter Root Beer ... where Loco swayed with the ripples of sound echoing along the corridors of his beer-sloshed, mushroom enhanced mind.

Then Brokkrok the troubled young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade merged into Loco's unreal reality ... where Loco was unable to determine if the colors emanating from Brokkrok were applied from a painted reality, or if the shimmering glows bursting across his enebriated brain were the result of his self-isolation with the magically induced mushrooms the Khord had edibly embraced during these many years of self-induced exile in the Caves of Madness.

Whatever the reality or unreality mesmerizing Loco's mind, it mattered little to the Cleric, as he enjoyed floating around within the maze of his mind with the unexpected spectacular intrusion of the multi-colored infusion emanating from the features of the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade.

He waved his hand in fascinated greeting to Brokkrok, but the kaleidescope of colors passing before his eyes from a rippling effect from the movement of his hand, pulled his consciousness into yet another realm of untold mystery within his own mushroomed mind.

Loco Fungihammer surfed the soundwaves of his mind ... enjoying every mushroom enhanced moment ... the dark cobwebs blasted from his mind at long last ... and lifting a tankard of fresh Bitter Root Beer ... the Cleric offered a toast to the return of Brokkrok.

"Make Room for the Mushrooms!"
Something kept nagging at the back of Loco's mind, but the Cleric had eaten enough of his special mushrooms and was drinking just enough Bitter Root Beer to relegate those thoughts deep within the shadows of his murkiest memories!

Loco began fumbling in his pouch for a fistful of some mysterious moss of a purple hue that he had found long ago in his travels. He handed the moss to the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade ... who understood the moss held secret recuperative powers that would come in handy during his investigation of the 'Bed of Mushrooms being overshadowed by Darkness'.

"I Give You My Solemn Word as Loco FungiHammer!" exclaimed the Cleric as he stroked each of his braids, then held them in front of Brokkrok's eyes for emphasis; first the Emerald braid, then the Sapphire braid and then the Ruby braid.

"Whoever ... or ... Whatever ... is Responsible for this Dark Vision that vexes your soul young Brokkrok ... You will find a way to dispel this Darkness ... With the Aid of Loco FungiHammer ... This I Swear to You!"
Loco was having visionary flashbacks as to the rhyme and reason that had brought him out of seclusion from the Caves of Madness, to face an unknown destiny that beckoned to him from afar.

He was a Khord driven by the faint, yet distant painful memories of a childhood loss that had pushed him onto a path of solitude; fraught with the ironies of avenging those on the brink of sadness, grief and loss that had driven Loco to the comforting embrace of the Mushrooms!

Loco could barely remember her, images lost in the swirling kaleidoscope of mushroomed memories!

But the Cleric understood the pain and silent inward suffering a lifetime would hold for anyone subjected to the loss he had undergone; the countless lifetimes of imaginings tearing and searing the emotions and memories, the hopes and dreams, instilling the fears of madness untamed and relentless!

Loco was not quite aware of how long it took to absorb the echos radiating between his eardrums, but the colorfully vibrating sounds that passed in cascading waves were enough to draw him to the source of the sounds as a moth is drawn to a flame!

"Thank You Loco! Your Wise Counsel Will Guide Me To Victory!"
Brokkrok bowed to the shroom enhanced Cleric that had provided him with so many answers ... and showed him the path of the shrooms ... and how to harness their extraordinary abilities ... no matter the pain and sorrow stabbing the tortured memories of the past.

Back at the Guesthouse That had been several weeks ago ... and now Brokkrok was hot on the trail of unraveling the mystery of the 'Bed of Mushrooms being overshadowed by Darkness'.

Brokkrok finished his meal ... just in time for Granny Tapestry to return from her errands to escort him to his new quarters ... before the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade spent the rest of the day scouting around the community.

He left his backpack and bedroll in his room (along with his water skin and wine skin) and set about to do a bit of sight seeing around the village of Sedostra before it got dark.

Brokkrok was thrilled to inhale the fragrance of the many mushroom fields. Sedostra Mushrooms had a rich flavor peculiar to the region with a meaty texture that delighted both poor and wealthy alike. If something evil was afoot in the community, then it was going to affect business sooner or later.

Passing the town square and the small temple of Solanis, God of Light and Life, Brokkrok noted that the temple was in need of some maintenance. A curious sign that something was amiss?

Each farm produced a different type of mushroom and Brokkrok was beside himself with joy as each owner allowed him to sample their particular brand of shroom as he made his rounds of the farms.

Brokkrok returned to his room at Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse before nightfall, well satisfied that there was no rivalry or competition between the farmers of the community. All seemed to be well ... but Brokkrok was certain that something was amiss. Brokkrok would have to spend some time in prayer and meditation in consecration to his deity to get further clarity.

In Need of Help Brokkrok was mystified over the next several days as to what could be out of place in Sedostra? All the Mushroom Farms seemed to be prospering with steady management and all the fields seemed to be peaceful and harmonious as the farmers labored from the crack of dawn until the dusk of twilight.

Then came the alarming news almost daily that some of the farmers had disappeared. Brokkrok was quick to investigate the circumstances of each disappearance, concluding that none of Sedostra's inhabitants had anything to do with it.

Finally, on the very evening that the courier returned to inform Brokkrok that Geron TwoBlades was located at Stones Hollow, a skeleton was seen walking about the Moistcap mushroom beds of the Ribault family.

Fortunately. the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade was able to dispose of the creature, but there were signs that Brokkrok would need more help to deal with the situation at Sedostra, so he immediately sent the courier back to Stones Hollow to enlist the aid of his friend Geron TwoBlades!

Unexpected Help Arrives Five unlikely adventurers arrived at Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse to inform the old lady that Geron TwoBlades had sent them to aid his friend Brokkrok who would "stick out like an orc in a midsummer festival.”
“Brokkrok you say?” Granny Tapestry asked them. “Yes, he has a room here as well. Strange man, but very friendly. He’s very short though. Not really a midget, but not like the tall farmsons we have here in Sedostra.”

“I think I hear your friend in the living room. Let me go see.”

Granny Tapestry stumbled off and returned a few moments later with a Khord who looked every bit ready for battle. They seated themselves and Brokkrok gave them a quick head’s up to the problem.
Brokkrok asks about the health and well being of his old friend Geron TwoBlades ... but he welcomes the aid of those sent by his old trusted friend. He carries his Longsword and Throwing Axes and Knife (backpack is in his room with the Acid Flasks and Holy Water Flasks and other items).

He answers their questions according to what Almerin posts in the Q/A as they formulate a plan of action to deal with the problems plaguing the Shroom Fields of Sedosta.

Sedostra seemed quaint as he walked in, where not a lot happened. Though there seemed to be no lack of mushrooms in the fields surounding.

"By my Grandmothers name, mushrooms and lots of them." He goes to gather some to make stew later on for the journey to where they will be going. He tried one and went a bit tipsy but recovered soon enough though his silver eyes were a bit buggy afterwards. "These will do fine. Mushroom stew is what my Grandma taught me to make a good 30 years ago. It ain't the best but it keeps ya up well enough, mayhaps not the best for ya though."

When he returned to the town, Ta'nil went to the guest house
he noticed a peculiar Khord with a large amount of facial hair, wondering if he was as old as he thought though not honouring the question himself.Ta'nil introduces himself.

"Hail friend, the names Ta'nil." Sits down "Who be ya?"

Requesting a glass of the not-quite-the-best wine continues what what he was going to say.

"Did ya know you can make a good mushroom stew out of the selection out there? Leaves ya a bit buggy but it keeps ya awake for the night."

Recieving his wine, thanks the person who brought it and stands around a bit.

As the Khords speak in what he guessed be their native tongue, he looked around the room noticing by the window that a peculiar trophy stood by.

Coming back to the group and taking a sip of wine, Brokkrok suggests that he and Traubon check out the skeleton in the field nearby, asking if somebody else is wanting to come along to check it.

"Shoie, mayhaps Sylvari eyes will apprehend some information about the situation."

Calling to Traubon
"Traubon." Ta'nil approaches his left side. "Bit of a strange character Eh!?"

Downs the glass before the departure.

"Im curious now, let us go."

After coming back to the guesthouse, he went to the room, took to floor. Waking in the morn, he was uncurious as to why he was a bit sore. Walking it off, he mumbled to himself

"I'd rather sleep on the dirt ground than wood, even a tree branch still on the tree."

Hearing a questioning tone in some voices and feeling some eyes on him.

"Nothing, it is a good day, is it not?"

Arra's tail twitched as she moved with uncanny grace and took a seat at the table with them, fully expecting the old woman to come at her, shooing her away with a broom. As it was, the eyes that followed her ranged from uncomfortable, to worried to hostile to curious, and her fur virtually crawled with the weight of many gazes. Reflexively, hand beneath the table, her claws extended and with effort she sheathed them again.

"A pleasurrrrre to meet you, sirrrrr," she greeted, purring over the R's. Her whiskers twitched and she tried to make her mouth form a smile, which she had learned over the years was customay among the meatsacks - er, humans.

As talk flowed among the group, she took mental notes, maarking their plans in her mind, and tried not to look too out of place. After all, she was one of them now, should they like it or not. She hoped they would eventually come to look favorably on her, despite the fact she ad pretty much strongarmed her way into the little group.

And yet, part of her wished she had stayed home that night, stayed back in her small cave in the forest. True, there had been that damnable creature stalking her woods, but this group had seen to that well enough. It was just that people were still a relatively new concept for her, and the very, very few humans she had interacted with had been more or less positive, but... they were so very, very pink. And soft. And they didn't taste very well. Not like rosated goose. Or river trout. Or a nice fat phaesant.

Her greenflecked golden feline eyes moved over Brokrok, a most strange human indeed. Well, not human. Arra had learned that "Human" was not really an all-inclusive name for the other kinds of life on two legs out there. There were others. And meatsacks was probably the most accurate, if not the most unkind , definition for them all. However, Arra didn't mean that term with any malice. More to the point, it was just a word to her, a way to separate food from non-food.

The one with the beards they'd been sent to didn't seem at all tasty. Infact, Arra was prettty sure he would chip one of her teeth. He reminded her of the ground - solid, hard. Stones. Rocks. He reminded her of these things the way the others in her party reminded her of things.

((Part one of two))

Glitch returned from the hunt exhausted, mentally and physically. In a manner completely unlike the little thunder humper he usually was, Glitch retired early to his hut and promptly passed out, sleeping completely through the night. Gadget was quite pleased to be home as well, and scampered out of his pocket-house and took up his usual residence under the bed.

His mind, however, was racing. Repeatedly going over the patterns and mechanics of his weapons, and trying to find a new way to craft what little magic was left in this world into a physical piece of equipment.

The next morning came and the wizard's mind was fresh and ready to prepare his inventions for the day. Today was a good day to learn... and Glitch planned on doing it. He knew a few tricks his old master taught him, but he never had the chance to test them out. And a few of them in particular would have really come in handy the other day. No better time than now to figure out the kinks.

Step one he had to craft a crossbow. Back in the Hallows the Brathunspar technits were famous for creating these strange crossbows that would strap to your wrist, and still manage to fire. Only the most senior master weaponsmiths were able to make them, and they would commonly fetch as much as 100 gold pieces at the bazaar. Rumors around the smithing circles were that it took a master smith 4 months of solid work with several assistants to make a functioning wrist crossbow.

Well, he had about a month's worth of training over two decades ago, minimal supplies, and about a day's worth of attention span to make it happen. After a few hours gathering wood from around town he returned to his home and began to whittle.

After working through most of the night, Glitch presented himself to the town bright and early the next day to show off his awesomely accessorized, flawlessly crafted, completely non-functional wrist crossbow. He needed to find an archer so he could get the motions down if this was going to work. At the guard tower Glitch met with a few of the volunteer crossbowmen, who were quite impressed with the wrist crossbow the little technit crafted in a single night. Glitch hammered them with stories about ancient Brathunspar crafting secrets, leaving them in awe of the gnomish inventor's abilities.

They were a bit confused when Glitch refused to let them fire it, or even give them a demonstration.

But he watched them train, noting the loading motion, and the aiming motions, and even taking a few terrible practice shots with their crossbows. Eventually he felt confident enough in his aiming abilities to implement this spell. He purchased a bundle of crossbow bolts with his payment from Geron.

Back behind his house Glitch set up a target range from some hay bales and a piece of wood. Going over the patterns in his mind he spoke the command words in Brathnaii. Murdock always taught him in the human language, but for some reason Glitch has yet to figure out, his particular brand of technomancy only functioned when the command words were spoken in his native tongue. It was hard to find a suitable translation for some words, but with enough experiments and explosions he managed to make it work.

When the time came to practice, Glitch chanted aloud in Brathnaii and pulled a crossbow bolt from his pouch, setting it atop the wrist crossbow. Amazingly it stayed in place, as if latched by an unseen force. As the incantation finished he lined up and let out his usual “HIYAAAA!” Instantly the bolt loosed from his wrist and took off at incredible speeds towards his target. The little mage jumped for joy until he realized the bolt missed his target by about 5 feet and continued to fly... somewhere. He remembered Murdock saying something about this trick being able to fling bolts as far as 80 feet.

Oh well, someone will find it. Right now he needed to practice. He loaded bolt after bolt, spraying them all over the village, and even a few on the target. Luckily he was starting to get the hang of it.

It was during this practice session the little wizard got a thought. Two actually! Well, three... but only two of them would be of any use in the near future. Crossbow still strapped to his wrist, Glitch set off for Traubon's place.

“Traubon! Traubon!” He eagerly ran up to the dwarf, probably interrupting something. “Look what I made!” Although almost 20 years his senior, Glitch still seemed the irritable child disturbing his elders during their “grown-up stuff.”

But as always the helpful dwarf was willing to listen to his fellow hunter (and one of his better customers). Glitch unstrapped the wrist crossbow and handed it over to the Khord, knowing full well it wouldn't fit on his wrist, nor would he be able to fire it. “Isn't it great! I made it myself!”

Talking over Traubon's words about it being impractical and not functional, Glitch went on with his speech. “ I couldn't figure out how to make it work like a real weapon. So I made it work with technomancy. I can only fire it a few times a day, except I'm not very good at aiming it.” He caught a glimpse of a bolt half buried in the dirt over near some stonemasonry tools, and promptly repositioned himself between the khord's line of sight and the errant ammunition.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask your help. I got an idea while I was shooting this thing. I think I figured out a way to tap into the essence of technology. This Techsence, yea I know it's a nice word, can be manipulated to our use. I think I can do it, even though my whole life I've always built my tools from scratch. I think I can tap into a weapon, for example, and draw on it's Techsence to learn how to use it... probably for a few minutes at least.”

“Of course...” He added shyly, “I don't actually own any weapons. At least none that have an actual combat-worthy Techsence. So uh... can I borrow one of yours? Just to practice with? I promis... well I'm pretty sure it won't get ruined.”

After some time spent trying to copy poses found in the Khord's training manuals and flailing around the yard with some of his old training weapons (much to the amusement of Gadget, who had made his way to the Khord's house after an extended nap), the little wizard finally felt he had the absolute basic knowledge. It was time for the ritual. Glitch took the axe he had been training with and held it close to his neck, the side pressed against his forehead. It was quite a humorous sight as the axe was clearly Traubon's size, and took Glitch two hands to do all but the most simple of maneuvers. He began to chant in Brathnaii, his voice taking it's usually ethereal nature right before magic happens. “HIYAAAA”

“Strange... I don't feel any different. Oh well, let's try.” The little warrior in training again tried to perform the simple parry parry strike he read on page 5 of the manual, only to drop the axe on his foot, nearly cutting off a few toes. “This is so wrong... I did everything right. The Techsence just didn't respond. I felt it, I even tried to talk to it, and it obviously heard me. It's like...”

A sudden understanding flashed in the gnome's eyes. “It's like we were speaking two different languages!!!! Of course I'm so stupid. This is your weapon! Of course it wouldn't understand Brathnaii.”

Glitch almost jumped with excitement, and grabbed a nice long stick from Traubon's yard. He found a nice patch of dirt, and with a quick nod of approval from his Khordal host began to trace some runes in the dirt – one line of Brathnaii followed by a line of Khordaldrum, then another of Brathnaii, and another of Khordaldrum. Glitch wasn't sure if Traubon even knew that he spoke the Khordal tongue, but if not it would surely be a shock. He just shrugged, “All the best crafting manuals are written in your language... made sense to learn it?” Hoping he was happy with the explanation, Glitch asked him to read back what he wrote, just to make sure it was right, and making changes as suggested to the grammar and word choice. Why the Khords have over seven hundred words for rock was still a mystery. He also needed help with pronunciation as the wizard only ever learned to read and write... not actually speak.

Now armed with the proper verbal component, Glitch again held the axe to his forehead and chanted. Khordaldrum was such a harsh language to the Brathun's ears, not like the flowing verses of Sylvari or even the booming commands of Draconic. Even Goblin, which sounded like trying to talk at triple-speed while gargling saltwater didn't have the same glottal stops and grunts that Khordaldrum had. It was very awkward to pronounce for Glitch, but on the third try his voice finally took to it's ethereal, echoing nature, alerting him the spell was taking effect and the tides of magic were flowing through him yet again. After his voice returned to normal Glitch readied his weapon and began drilling. It was as if the axe had lost two pounds of weight. His form was much better too. Sure he was still physically weak, so his swings will always be somewhat lackluster, but the ease with which he swung the weapon was a feat in itself.

But true to his word, the technomancy faded within two minutes, and the Brathunspar was back to clumsily swinging the weapon around with both hands. After a brief rest he tried again with a throwing axe. Now much better at chanting in Khordaldrum, the axe responded almost instantly, and Glitch found himself hitting targets with alarming accuracy. Traubon warned they still wouldn't pack much of a punch with Glitch's scrawny arms powering them, but the fact he was able to hit anything with decent precision proved the magic worked. So well in fact, that Glitch was even able to activate the Techsence of one of Traubon's shields, finding that it too became a natural extension of his own (hilariously undersized) arm.

Glitch thanked Traubon and offered to buy him a drink at the tavern that night. With a few drinks in his system talk around the tavern quickly turned to the crossbow on Glitch's wrist. Stories were embellished, dares were made, and bluffs were called. It was a merry time for the little one. The next morning Glitch couldn't exactly remember how, but with some help from Gadget he realized that he HAD actually fired a full beer stein from his crossbow, smashing it against the wall. “Explains where all my money went... but we need a new name!” He told his faithful familiar, “Murdock only taught the spell that worked with crossbow bolts... Launch Bolt I think he called it. How about we just call this one Launch Item? Heh, who knew I was so amazing? Oh wait... I did!”

Glitch learned that morning that yes, weasels can indeed roll their eyes.

That day they buried Jethro, and it was a somber time for the wizard. Immediately after the funeral he followed Helena back to her camp, needing to buy some alchemal supplies and wanting to check on Aly and make sure she was ok. The small folk need to look after each other's in the tall man's world. Glitch spent some of the day chatting about the hunt and what he'd been up to the past few days. Then he purchased his supplies and headed back to the lab. Before he left Helena showed him an old arcane scroll she had been carrying around, and had graciously allowed him to copy it into his spellbook. He promised her he would do some research and figure out how to make good use of it.

He spent the next two days indoors, letting Gadget scurry about town keeping a watch on things. Glitch analyzed the samples of the monster they had slain, doing everything he could think of to learn about how this beast was able to manipulate the mind with fear. Along with that he had three ongoing alchemy projects that needed tending to. Alchemist's Fire was very useful for burning down your own house if proper maintenance was not practised during the more volatile reactions. And on top of that he was trying to isolate some venom from a local snake carcass Gadget had drug home the other day as well as create a Sunrod for his next night time foraging campaign.

Plus he now had the matter of Helena's spell to decipher. It was written in Draconic, as Murdock said many arcane scrolls were. Since this was actual magic, and not technomancy, it would take some serious study. After about an hour he figured out this was a conjuration spell, and apparently it was used to summon monsters from some other plane of existence. Glitch knew quite a bit about physics, but only material plane physics. All he knew about the other planes were that many mathematical axioms weren't valid. And that was something Glitch preferred not to study, for there are too many stories of extraplanar technits going insane from their research.

All he needed to know was that this spell summoned someone from somewhere to do something. He wasn't really in a hurry to test this one... and besides there was science to be done!

Time flew by for the chemist, as the swirling and bubbling sounds lulled him into a trance. He worked like a machine through the hours, well into the night, and resumed early the next morning. It wasn't until a messenger delivered a memo that his concentration was finally broken.

Geron needed him again...

Outside the Guesthouse
Early Dawn
Before Help Arrives
What was taking Geron TwoBlades so long to answer the summons of help from the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade?

Brokkrok was walking around undisturbed by anyone ... but his own thoughts ... outside Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse during a time of quiet reflections and prayers unto his deity Therassor.

As he prayed he pondered upon the mysterious disappearances of a total of 3 farmers over the past few days while he waited for Geron TwoBlades to respond to his summons, after he had dispatched the skeleton that was walking the outdoor mushroom patches.

Brokkrok was a bit frustrated that he had been unable to either protect the missing farmers or to find any clues regarding their mysterious disappearances. It was as if they had vanished into thin air!

Mosk Tefferson, farmer of Stinkdelver mushrooms; Irana Ribault, wife of Lucian, farmer of Moistcaps and Steph Blacker, son (and successor) of Theo & Resa, farmers of Round Whites.

The Ribaults are devastated with the disappearance of Irana and have no idea what has happened to her. She left her box-bed at night to go to the bathroom and never returned. Lucian found the door unlocked that morning, but otherwise there is nothing he could tell Brokkrok.
The young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade was almost torturing himself in prayer unto Therassor as he continually thought about the frustrations of not being able to defend the missing Humans ... but perhaps Brokkrok would find favor this day by once more communing with his deity Therassor ... and be granted a way to avenge them!

What was perplexing to the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade, was that both Mosk and Irana had disappeared during the night; whereas, Steph had gone missing in broad daylight after a day of work in the Round Whites mushroom fields.

Brokkrok had spent the 3 previous days abstaining from eating any type of mushrooms; fasting for direction from his deity and consecrating himself in prayer daily to solve this mystery.

It was now time for the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade to stop torturing himself for his perceived failures and shortcomings ... and renew his faith in the assistance of his deity Therassor ... the God of Righteous Battle ... for of a surety Brokkrok was in a war against some unknown darkness ... and the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade would soon carry the fight against the source of these strange circumstances that now had the citizens of Sedosta in its unseen grip ... by himself if need be ... unless Geron TwoBlades arrived in time to help him rid the community of this unknown fear!

"I call upon you now Stalwart Blade ... not for my own cause ... but in behalf of the terrified and defenseless citizens of this community!

Grant me the ability and wisdom to wield The Burning Blade that you have so graciously bestowed upon me in days gone by!

Grant me this day the ability and wisdom to cast Cure Minor Wounds, Detect Magic, Inflict Minor Wounds, Light, Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Detect Undead and Magic Stone ... not for my sake alone ... but for the sake of those in need of a champion ... for you are that champion oh Stalwart Blade ... and for the sake of any you may grant to send my way to help these Humans in their hour of desperation ... help me and any others you see fit to dispel this present darkness ... and may my blade and sword arm serve you with faith and honor ... I pray oh Ghardan Aglar ... smile upon your servant this day with your favor ... hear my humble cry ... as I give you thanks ... oh Stalwart Blade!"
After being introduced to the members of the Monster Hunters Collective (after Granny Tapestry brings Brokkrok from the living room to meet them) and learning that Geron TwoBlades has sent them in answer to Brokkrok's summons ... the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade quickly informs the party as to what has transpired these past few days ... then challenges the members to investigate the town and help him to not only solve this mystery ... but to eradicate the community of this unknown fear that has caused the disappearance of the 3 farmers ... or else he will investigate the town by himself ... because he has wasted too much time waiting for help already!

Traubon came home that night from the hunt and slumped into his simple beddings, and quickly slept off the drinks he had consumed. The sting of losing a comrade, especially someone so young, lingers for a while and he knew that He will never forget Jethro.

Waking the next morning, Traubon slowly made himself a breakfast of some slightly stale bread and cheese, washing it down with some cool water. He reached into his large chest that sat against his wall and looked at the gear that he was given, the remanents of the beast's lair. He was given a good amount of weapons; axes, a dagger, and a conveniently fitting chain shirt. It was obviously made for a Khord, as the length was shorter and the chest was broader. He didn't want to think about who owned it previously, just that he was greatful the Khordalum armor could be used once more.

He spent the next hour of his morning polishing and fixing up the armor and weapons, only doing basic maintenance as his expertise was stone craft, not metallurgy. He was just finishing polishing the hand axe, it's handle a light shade of wood with two leather straps intertwined down the haft, when Glitch had came entering his hovel.

“Traubon! Traubon! Look what I made!” The little Brathspur ran up to him, catching him slightly off guard as he shoved a small wrist mounted crossbow into his face.

"Uh Glitch! Mornin' to ye! That seems tah' be a fine craft ya got there, 'cept the part where it won't fire n' all."
Glitch went on to explain about some spell, technomancy and something about techsense, and it was all Traubon could do to keep up with the little speed talker. He nodded and agreed, even though his mind was spinning trying to comprehend what exactly he was saying. He snapped back when Glitch mentioned something about needing to borrow his weapons, and them most likely not being destroyed.

"Well, ya definitely sound like you know what your talking about, even though I'm kinda at a loss. But if ye' are so confident, then I guess I can let ya use this axe here."
He handed over the almost completely polished hand axe and set out to the back yard where a stump and his work shed resided.

He stood, watching curiously as the Brathspur flipped through his ancient training manual (which he lent out only after carefully explaining the frailty of the book) copying the poses of the Khord drawings.

Suddenly a look of what seemed to be an idea coming together came over Glitch's face, and he took to make one final form, and started saying the components to a spell.
"HIIIIYYAA!"

Traubon took a step back as the sudden outburst caught him once again off guard. "Oy, he's gonna be the death o' me one day I swear." He looked back up to see Glitch confused, fumbling with the axe. A minute or two more of thinking and suddenly Glitch grabbed a stick and with his permission started to draw in the dirt.

While Glitch was drawing, Traubon curiously went to investigate why there was a crossbow bolt impaled into his lawn. With it in hand, he was about to turn to Glitch and ask if he knew about it at all when he saw him already-

"HIIIYA!"

Once again Traubon was spooked as a gnomish battle cry resonated through out his yard. Only this time a miniature fighting machine was drilling perfect axe practices for a few minutes, before fumbling again.

"Ah, ya seem tah got it workin'! Like ya said, Khord work is the best, too bad not everyone' can understand such ah' simple fact."

After practicing a bit more, and elated that his spell worked, Glitch left Traubon to his business as he left, but not before inviting him out to a drink which he happily accepted.

After working a bit more on some stone utensils he met Glitch at the Golden Barley and they had an exellent night drinknig and fiddling with the new inventions Glitch had made.

The next day, they buried Jethro and Traubon showed up in his best dress; his armor. The newly fixed up chainshirt and his halberd at his side, he gave the warrior a proper warriors seeing off, paying no heed to the glances that some folks gave him not used to seeing him in such a serious or war like garb. He left a small gift on Jethro's centered chest, a small highly polished disc of white marble, with the center carved out in a shallow circle and filled with gold. It was once a pendant worn about the neck of some of the Khord elite, but was taken on his way out of the holds.
That day later on, he set back into his old habits of working the stone, polishing, chiseling, hammering away until his apron was covered in a fine dust. The whole day was stress relieving work and only conversed with customers and anyone who wanted to stop by his hovel.

He went to bed tired, exhausted from working so much stone. The next day just past Traubons' meal of hard boiled eggs and grits, a messanger came to the door. Traubon answered, his long night shirt draping past his knees.
"Aye? You want somethin' built?"

"Ah, no sir just a message." The young boy no more than 12 handed Traubon a piece of parchment, and nodded with a smile.

"Thank ye' sonny, now off ya go, I'm a busy Khord." He looked at the parchment, then looked up to the boy, who was already turned to leave. "Oh! Gregory! Sorry laddy I'm still sleeping it seems. C'mere for a moment if you can." He had the boy follow him back to his shed, and handed him a small wooden crate. "Heres the three stone mugs your Pa wanted. Now, you hungry?" With a quick nod and a smile he followed Traubon into the hovel and was given three hard boiled eggs and a hunk of bread. "Go, enjoy yourself. and stay safe!"
He watched the boy leave and then quickly read the letter. the remnants of a smile on his face quickly faded, and he gave a heavy sigh, and walked into his hovel.

He walked out of his hovel, locked up the shed and front door, and gave a glancing look to the two small buildings on the edge of the village as he walked to the tavern, meeting up with his fellow comrades once more. After much talking and explaining of what they need to do, Traubon had made sure he had everything he needed, and the group exited once more unto the road that lay ahead of them.

Soon though, it became apparent that they had an extra traveler, a rare sight to behold to any pair of eyes. A feline looking woman was following them, and he could only aquate her to what he heard from stories of old, as the Kazari.

"You want nothin' tah do with us, we be goin' no where but trouble. Please, for your own good sake let us be." Being as kind but forthcoming as he could, he tried to get her to leave them alone, not wanting to see someone else fall prey to the danger they were going to be wandering into. But sheer determination was obvious in her actions, and soon enough she became a part of their group.

"Now missy, you be knowin' the kindsa' dangers we be goin' intah'. I've told ye' many ah' times, and I don't want another one of our group here fallin' tah' any beasties o' the woods." (he will hold a conversation that Arra would like to bring up)

Soon enough with talking and traveling, they made it to their destination. The mushroom fields of Sedostra. Just at the mention of the mushroom fields it reminded him of home and how his fellow Khord's enjoyed the rare fungus's that dwelled beneath the surface. The other perk, was meeting a fellow Khord of the name Brokkrok. He hasn't seen another Khord in months and having the company would just be worth the trip.

They walked into Granny Tapestry's guest house after being told this was the place to stay, the locals being friendly enough to show them the way.

After asking about Brokkrok, being shown their respective rooms, and paying up, they were directed to a table to sit with Brokkrok. The Khord to Traubon looked like the epitome of what a devout Khord could be. Aged greying hair, battle dress and gleaming weapons, but the focal point of the entire ensamble would be the large, emerald enlaiden braid that dwell within his beard. Insantly Traubon's curiousity perked up and he could not wait to ask how he had received it. It also reminded him of himself of his goal to recieve a braid of his own, let alone have anything woven into it.
After hearing the jist of the story, Traubon nodded, and smild to Brokkrok.

"Let me introduce my self. My name is Traubon Strakelheim, and it is an honor to be in your presence. I am bothered that undeath plagues these fields and would be happy to accompany you on whatever it takes to help find these people." Of course, he spoke in his own native Khord tongue to a fellow Khord, anything else being unreasonable.

Brokkrok responds to Traubon
After asking about Brokkrok, being shown their respective rooms, and paying up, they were directed to a table to sit with Brokkrok. The Khord to Traubon looked like the epitome of what a devout Khord could be. Aged greying hair, battle dress and gleaming weapons, but the focal point of the entire ensamble would be the large, emerald enlaiden braid that dwell within his beard. Insantly Traubon's curiousity perked up and he could not wait to ask how he had received it. It also reminded him of himself of his goal to recieve a braid of his own, let alone have anything woven into it.
After hearing the jist of the story, Traubon nodded, and smild to Brokkrok.
Brokkrok chose to speak in the common tongue for all the party to understand what it had cost him to be awarded an Emerald braid.

He made sure that they understood that he was merely 60 years young and that his silver colored hair and beard was not a matter of old age and feebleness setting in, but rather genetics from his family line.

Brokkrok painfully recalled the encounter with the Shroom Raiders who captured the 3 Khord children and how they were rescued at the cost of a broken blade made useless when he buried the remainder of the broken longsword into the chest cavity of one of the Shroom Raiders.

He also made sure that his award was received at the cost of losing the companionship of two of the stoutest and bravest Stalwart Warriors he had ever had the honor of companying with during peacetime and the inevitable circumstances of unwelcome and welcome battle, whether on the surface world or deep underground in the Khord caverns.

However he did encourage Traubon that should he prove himself a courageous Khord in battle and do his part in ridding this community of the fear the citizens were currently experiencing, that the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade would give a full report to the Khord elders who review such matters in the decision making for awarding the jewel braids for brave deeds by deserving Khords.

Brokkrok refrains from speaking about his hallucinogenic shrooms and his time spent with Loco Fungihammer in the Caverns of Madness these past 5 years ... mainly because that is a matter better left among Khords and not for every one interested in the tale of a Khord hero.

Besides, there were more important matters to be attended to at the present time ... and Brokkrok was ready to investigate the town ... with or without the help of these new arrivals!

"Let me introduce my self. My name is Traubon Strakelheim, and it is an honor to be in your presence. I am bothered that undeath plagues these fields and would be happy to accompany you on whatever it takes to help find these people." Of course, he spoke in his own native Khord tongue to a fellow Khord, anything else being unreasonable.
Brokkrok bowed to the other party members of the MH Collective and then turned to Traubon and spoke a reply in a Khord tongue that the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade would be honored for Traubon to help him remove the undeath plague from this community.

He considered giving Traubon some of his Zesti Spores stash, but decided it would be best to do so privately ... as only a fellow Khord could appreciate their value!

Brokkrok withdraws his Longsword and points towards the mushroom fields beyond the walls of Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse and asks if anyone has a plan of action? Otherwise, he lets them know that he will take Traubon to the site of his encounter with the skeleton and perhaps another set of Khord eyes will be able to see something that Brokkrok overlooked with his one good eye!

Then he grins at the group and informs them that it might be wise for all of them to go together for a look at the skeleton site ... unless anyone else has a better plan of action for the group?

Granny Tapestry’s Guesthouse was a homely place to stay. The welcoming living room was an excellent place to meet new people, or to better acquaint yourself with your friends. None of the gathered members of the newly formed group would call each other ‘friend’ yet. They were just starting to get to know one another, and had no clear picture yet of how each of them would hold him or herself in battle. And now there were two new faces to add to the equation.
Still, though trust had to grow, there was a certain familiarity in their common will to aid others, or to solve problems at least.

Brokkrok took a look outside and remembered an old saying Loco had told him years ago: Better sniff the spores while the Shroom is still a-steaming. The sun had not yet disappeared completely. He would still be able to show them the place where he battled the undead creature.

Not far from the Guesthouse (everything in Sedostra was not far from anything in Sedostra) lay the fields of the Ribault family. The Moistcap Mushrooms lay glinting in the orange sun with their multicoloured hoods. The soil on which they rested was specially prepared for this strange breed of fungi. It was loose and betrayed any disturbance. Brokkrok’s route from the Guesthouse to where the skeleton had been walking was clearly visible still; a deep, straight line of upturned earth, thunderous bootprints and broken shrooms. They could only imagine how much it must’ve pained the shroomloving Khord to stampede through these ‘crops’.

Apparently the Ribaults had not yet dared to return the field to its previous state, and the group used the path of destruction to find the battlefield.

A battlefield was perhaps the best way to describe the scene of the encounter, for it was a graveyard of bruised, cracked and severed mushrooms. But in between the debris lay the remains of an actual fight: boney footprints circled heavy boots and vice versa. Brokkrok had engaged the skeleton in a real Dance Macabre, and it had clearly been more than a foxtrot.

But with more eyes, and the last rays of daylight on their side, they noted something the cleric had previously overlooked: where the skeletal footprints had originated from. They marked a clear trail which went in a straight line towards the graveyard. Unfortunately, the field stopped where the road began, and the trail of footprints could no longer be traced.

As the night started to claim the land, and the moon began its way up like a giant Round White, the group faced a new choice: head to bed, or keep going.

(OOC: of course, the actual question is more on the lines of: what do you want to do now. I’ll get a map up in a few minutes, which will give you new information and a better view on what’s cracking in Sedostra. Also it might give you new ideas on what to do. And please don’t limit yourself to the immediate time. If you want to take this to the next morning, be my guest. )

Brokkrok took a look outside and remembered an old saying Loco had told him years ago: Better sniff the spores while the Shroom is still a-steaming. The sun had not yet disappeared completely. He would still be able to show them the place where he battled the undead creature.
Armed for battle (including his 5 flasks of Acid and 5 flasks of Holy Water) the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade once again raised his longsword and pointed the way out the door.

He looked hard and long at the group that Geron TwoBlades had sent in answer to his summons, noting that in spite of their novice appearance and unknown (to Brokkrok) battle abilities ... and how they would respond to whatever pressure this unknown mystery would bring to bear against their minds and emotions ... Brokkrok was certain that Geron would not have sent them if they lacked the heart to accomplish what would need to be done in the very near future to liberate this community from fear.

Brokkrok knew from past experience with other untested Khord Warriors that Traubon could be counted upon to stand his ground ... even pursue the enemy wherever the unknown path would lead ... of that he was certain.

He eyed the Cidal Druid named Alyannah and made a quick mental note that he may have to stand near her and be ready to defend her ... at least until she had proved herself in battle.

Then there was Glitch ... the Brathunspar Diviner ... there was something about him that the Khord Cleric took a quick liking to ... something that an unsuspecting foe might underestimate in the heat of a pitched battle ... and Brokkrok was certain that the evident bond between Glitch and Traubon would afford the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade the luxury of keeping his good eye on the others ... should they require any assistance whenever the going got rough ... as it was sure to happen sometime soon.

Such as keeping an eye on Ta'nil the Sylvari Rogue ... but in spite of his distrust of the Sylvari race in general ... Brokkrok had warmed up to the idea of fighting alongside Ta'nil ... especially with the Sylvari's invitation to eat some Shroom Stew sometime soon.

"After we investigate these strange happenings ... and rid Sedostra of its foul taint ... perhaps we can celebrate with some of that Shroom Stew you mentioned ... if you survive?" Brokkrok grinned at the Sylvari as he headed for the door to lead the group of helpers to where he had battled the skeleton.

Brokkrok also noted that Arra the Kazari Fighter ... although an unfathomable uncertainty was faintly scratching at his distant thoughts ... would prove to be a welcome addition in his quest to aid this community ... and one he may not need to keep an eye on to defend ... but one to keep an eye on for other unexplained reasons.

One thing was for sure as he nodded towards Arra ... noting the twitching of her tail and the determination plainly etched in the countenance of her face ... Brokkrok would much rather have the Kazari as an ally ... than as an adversary!

Brokkrok motioned with his left arm for the group to follow him to the mushroom fields of the Ribault family ... as a myriad of past thoughts began to form clusters in his mind ... of bitter remembrances.

Not far from the Guesthouse (everything in Sedostra was not far from anything in Sedostra) lay the fields of the Ribault family. The Moistcap Mushrooms lay glinting in the orange sun with their multicoloured hoods. The soil on which they rested was specially prepared for this strange breed of fungi. It was loose and betrayed any disturbance. Brokkrok’s route from the Guesthouse to where the skeleton had been walking was clearly visible still; a deep, straight line of upturned earth, thunderous bootprints and broken shrooms. They could only imagine how much it must’ve pained the shroomloving Khord to stampede through these ‘crops’.

Apparently the Ribaults had not yet dared to return the field to its previous state, and the group used the path of destruction to find the battlefield.

A battlefield was perhaps the best way to describe the scene of the encounter, for it was a graveyard of bruised, cracked and severed mushrooms. But in between the debris lay the remains of an actual fight: boney footprints circled heavy boots and vice versa. Brokkrok had engaged the skeleton in a real Dance Macabre, and it had clearly been more than a foxtrot.

But with more eyes, and the last rays of daylight on their side, they noted something the cleric had previously overlooked: where the skeletal footprints had originated from. They marked a clear trail which went in a straight line towards the graveyard. Unfortunately, the field stopped where the road began, and the trail of footprints could no longer be traced.

As the night started to claim the land, and the moon began its way up like a giant Round White, the group faced a new choice: head to bed, or keep going.
Brokkrok was itching for a battle ... yet he was distracted by the uncertainty of plunging into the unknown with these untested helpers ... at least untested in his presence on the battlefield ... unobserved in battle by his one good eye.

Yes they had found a definite trace of where the skeleton had come from ... the nearby graveyard ... and perhaps that is why the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade had overlooked the evidence ... either consciously or subconsciously ... because graveyards reminded him of his failure to prevent the 2 Stalwart Warriors from losing their lives those long agonizing years ago.

Brokkrok had pondered upon casting a Detect Undead Spell in the direction of the graveyard ... but he was distracted by the remembrances that the 2 Stalwart Warriors were well disciplined and battle trained ... tested in battle alongside Brokkrok more than once when fighting other Shroom Raiders.

But this present group of helpers sent from Geron were untested ... untried in the presence of Brokkrok ... and in a moment of flashback memories that tormented the soul of the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade ... Brokkrok broke away from the group and headed for Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse ... unable to bring himself to require of this group to invade the Sedostra graveyard.

Not wanting another death on his conscience ... especially one or more of these untested helpers ... Brokkrok chose to refrain from pushing on with the investigation ... in spite of his desire to face the unknown enemy face to face.

As the fading rays of daylight gave way to the cover of darkness ... the domain of the unknown terror that had the citizens of this community gripped in terror ... hiding in their homes at night ... was an advantage that Brokkrok did not want these helpers risking their lives for ... at least not this night.

He had a sudden urge to lose himself in the embrace of one of his Glittery Gold Shrooms ... but the flashbacks that had suddenly come upon him ... were sufficient for him this night ... as shimmery colored thoughts of the past made him momentarily forget about the dire emergencies of the present.

In the Living Room Upon entering the living room of Granny Tapestry's Guesthouse the young Cleric of the Stalwart Blade sat himself down in a comfy chair at the end of the room facing the door ... waiting for the helpers that Geron TwoBlades had sent to assist him.

Although Brokkrok does not open up and discuss why he abruptly headed for the Guesthouse, he thanks each member of the group for their assistance in solving the mystery ... and asks the group what each member considers the best course of action on the following morning after they have had time to rest and prepare themselves for the task set before them?

He enquires of Arra if she had sniffed or heard anything out of the ordinary?

He asks Alyanna if the Druid noticed any disharmony in the natural balance of things?

He questions Ta'nil if he noticed anything unusual and engages in some small talk about his Shroom Stew and asks what are the best ingredients for a successful Shroom Stew?

He talks to Glitch and shows him the 2 types of explosive shrooms (the Sulpha Stinkpuff Spore and the Stunner Shroom mentioned in my opening post) informing him of his failed attempts to breed the 2 together to make an explosive weapon.

"Do you think such a breeding is possible? It cost me the use of my left eye a while back", explains the Khord Cleric to Glitch.

Then he engages Traubon in converation asking the Khord Fighter his opinion about the fighting capabilities of the others and if they should go in two groups or all stay together to fight whatever menace is plaguing the community?

Brokkrok knows it is best for now for all 6 members to stay together until they know just what they are up against, but the Khord Cleric values the opinion of his fellow Khord (especially since he has fought alongside the others ... except for the Kazari of course ... but Brokkrok may not know that at the present time since they just got to the Guesthouse!)

Then Brokkrok gives Traubon 20 of his Zesti Spores to bless the Khord Fighter as a gift showing that he is accepted as an equal ... braid or no braid.

I realize that some of these questions may only be answered by Almerin, but hopefully there is enough written above to begin facilitating some role play interaction with my character?

Brokkrok will then excuse himself to go to his private room to commune with his deity Therassor and ponder upon all these things that have beset his mind.

He will pray to Therassor for the same Spells that he had asked for that morning ... asking forgiveness for not utilizing any of them that day ... especially the Detect Undead ... asking for guidance and wisdom and help to not endanger the helpers his deity has sent from Geron TwoBlades in answer to his prayers since arriving in Sedosta.

The survey of the skeleton-site where the rocky man had fought seemed sad to Arra - there was something about the gathering dark, and the lonely fungi, that made her insides ache slightly, and reminded her how far from her cave she was. While the others examined, Arra padded quietly around the shroom beds, sniffing, tail twitching, before returning to the party.

Back at the guesthouse, it took her almost by surprise that the rocky man with the long furry face would address her by name, and it was a small show of respect that did not go unnoticed. It stirred something within her, though she was careful not to show it.

"Nothing unusual, sirrrrr. The smell of the undead lingerrrrs a little, but nothing suspicious beyond that." She paused, and took the chance to offer an opinion.

"We should sleep, and rrresume in the daylight. While you sleep, I could searrrrch the woods surrrrounding the town?"

"I did not see anything unusual as of yet, but there be something there that is not like the others, something may not be the same."
((OOC Yay for Sesame Street!!!))

"As for the stew, The main ingredient although slightly poisonous, the Fae mushroom, combine it with the Raui mushroom and it offsets the poison to make a sweet flavour as of that like sweet honey. Then you add a spicy one known as the Tain'ro, it adds the spice necessary to stimulate the senses to keep ya awake. and of mush some Yuni mushrooms to make a broth and to add a bit more flavour to it as well. Though with the Fae, you have to be a little careful not to add too much, a proper amount is about 1/4 of the cap only.It is really an excellent way to stay on many overnight trips, or if you are being chased and cannot sleep or they'll catch you."

After getting their mission from Geron and a handful of supplies Glitch rushed home to gear up. He grabbed his trusty wrench, but this time he was bringing his newly created alchemist's fire and sunrod.

And of course his spell components and technomancy foci. And a very curious weasel.

Glitch met with the others and set out towards Sedostra. Shortly after leaving camp, however, it appeared their group would be growing by one. A Kazari, but from what he could tell nobody else knew anything about the species.

“Oooooh! Kazari!” Glitch yelped out as Arra joined the group, stating her intentions to stay. The little Brathun rushed over with outstretched arm, petting her gently behind the ears. “sooooft....” Arra fluffed up but soon relaxed sensing no danger from the little guy. Gadget wanted a piece too, and scurried up the back of the Kazari, resting calmly on her shoulder.

After some conversation, Glitch asked how exactly she fights, pointing out how terribly rusty that sword she carried was...

"A discarrrrded rrrrelic I thought I should put to use."

Glitch caught glimpse of her claws as she responded, answering his other question.

“Well when we get back to my lab I'll see if I can't do something about getting you a better sword.”

The wizard remained fairly quiet for the rest of the trip, trying to draw up some plans for what was surely his next big project once they returned.

“I think I hear your friend in the living room. Let me go see.” The nice lady that owned the bed and breakfast welcomed them and they wasted no time meeting their contact. Another Khord. This one looked much different than Traubon, more... Glitch wasn't sure... more grounded? He couldn't find the right word.

After their introduction it was obvious they needed to explore now. In one regard a terrible idea since Glitch didn't have any spells prepared to help them deal with skeletons or thieves. His technomancy foci weren't charged, either...

But it was the proper thing to do, so they set out at dusk.

At the scene of the battle it was quite clear Brokkrok was sorting through some issues, possibly related to the fight with the skeleton? But he was obviously a seasoned warrior, or perhaps a cleric of sorts?

During their trip to the farm Glitch tried to spark a conversation with the newcomer. “I'm not exactly an expert on the pantheon, but I do occasionally ask Wizerran, or Jusarin in the common tongue, for assistance, and I quite often invoke the blessing of Gesjikie, or Shinara as the humans call her. There is an old Brathunspar proverb, “Even the best plans and methods are subject to Lady Luck's whims,” Which of course brought about the more... practical proverb “If you can't make it work on the third try blow it up and hope Gesjikie is amused enough to make it work on the fourth.”

There was a point there somewhere...
“So anyway, I remember seeing that symbol on your eyepatch at a church, but I don't know much about it. I know it doesn't belong to Jusarin or Shinara from personal experience, and I know Kith-Jora's symbol from the days, as well as Solanis and Lysora. Telemor, Vilathera and D'Hurgen too!” Glitch was starting to impress himself with how much he remembered.

“But those were really the only ones who were talked about back in the Brathnaii Hollows. I don't recognize yours... Is it Bakloran? I heard he fought with a sword!”

Regardless of their conversation, they did manage to find something new. The skeleton came from the graveyard.

“This could mean a few things actually... I know it's possible to summon undead from another plane... but it's also possible to create a skeleton from a corpse. If this walked from the graveyard we can assume it was made from a corpse, right? I say we go back. That way I can do some research on undead, and also charge my dweomers so they can actually do us some good.”

Glitch turned and saw Brokkrok had already begun to return to the guesthouse.

The wizard darted off after him.

Back at the house Brokkrok asked Glitch about mushroom breeding, or maybe splicing is a better term?

“Well, I did study botany for a while... and I think I remember how to build a machine to do it.” Glitch took the shrooms and gave a few sniffs. “You know, Aly would probably know more about these things. Mushrooms that is. Explosives on the other hand... I can do some explosives. Let me take a whack at them back in my lab. That way I won't risk burning down this nice old lady's house. My place is already fire-proofed. I am pretty sure I can splice them... but whether or not they will be able to reproduce? Sure, why wouldn't they be able to? Anyway I can't do anything here I didn't bring any alchemy tools. Ask me again once we've figured this mystery out...”

And with that he headed off to bed, noting Ta'nil already curled up on the floor. Strange one...but then again what Syl isn't.

Glitch climbed to one of the beds and dozed off.

The next day...

Detect Magic
Detect Magic
Disrupt Undead
Disrupt Undead
Disrupt Undead

Master's Touch
Summon Monster 1
Summon Monster 1
Grease

Glitch saw to it that his dweomers were prepared and his spells were set. He was going to war. He darted down for some breakfast and met his companions at the table.

“Well then, let's go kill us some monsters.” Glitch pulled his hand cannon out from his pack. “I have this thing charged up with the stuff that skeletons absolutely hate. And I have a few more tricks. Those things don't stand a chance! We should go to the graveyard first. I need to do some research.”

(OOC: Sorry if some of the details in the backpost got confused, it's been a few days since I lost my other post and did this one mostly from memory.)

The next morning they ate the simple breakfast Granny Tapestry had to offer. Their minds lingered on the task at hand though; a thorough search of the graveyard.

Not much later they found themselves at the south entrance to the Sedostra burial grounds. For the first time since they got there they got a good look at how ancient it was. Of course, Brokkrok had seen it before. He hadn’t given it much thought though, until the walking skeleton started stirring up the mystery. Now he regarded the place with a different eye.

The graveyard was very plain: a patch of land with many scattered tombstones, some of which looked centuries old, and an old cherry tree. It had probably functioned as a burial ground since the founding of Sedostra, and not much thought had been given to who was placed where. The graves were sometimes widely spread, or inches apart. Some tombstones were so weathered, it was hard to tell if they had ever carried any kind of inscription. Only a few of them were well cared for, and only one of them seemed recent. It bore no name, but the granite column at the head of the grave bore the symbol of Solanis.

Brokkrok asked the group to join him in the corner of the graveyard, and started praying to his God. He held his concentration for a long time, scanning the graveyard for any sign of undeath, but found none.

After that they decided to use their eyes and ears, and in Arra’s case, her nose, to try and find any clues to what was going on in Sedostra. Besides a long lost purse with some loose change, they found a strange mark circling on one of the branches of the cherry tree. It looked like some of the bark had been scraped off by something long and thin, like a rough wood file or a rope.

(OOC: Don’t know what else to make of the update but this. You guys checked the graveyard, search it a bit, but you only find an old purse with 4 silver pieces and some coppers that somebody has lost a long time ago. Let me know if you want to take it, or if you want to do anything else with it.)