Haggling, part 3
Log Info
- Title: Haggling, Part 3 (second session was aborted)
- Emitter: Whirlpool
- Characters: Baz da Ork, Ashes, Josselyn, Nels, Edinaz
- Place: The Felwood Swamp
- Time: Sunday, August 30, 2020, 9:30 PM
- Summary: Aros and his trade-assisting party continue through the swamp until the reach the Witch's huts. The witches come out, looking very bent and old. Aros becomes tongue-tied, and the rest annouce they have come to trade. A brief argument over the nature of gifts versus trade objects ensues. Ash gives away soap, her disguise kit, and a mirror. The witches reject the silver and gold baubles, as they have no use for them. Aros offers his life, which is met with cackling laughter. They don't want that either. They do want fear, ask the party to describe them, then inflict the fears on them. Baz's is being forced to eat elven rations when there are perfectly good kobolds about to murder and devour. Nel's is being turned into a human female again. Edinaz's, is dying ignobly in some futile fashion. Ash fears conversation and sunshine. The witches declare these are acceptable, and invite Ash to stay for tea while their Witchcrow looks on. Oh, and there's one last thing...
-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Baz da Ork 7'0" 320 Lb Orc Male 7' 320 pounds of metal, muscle and stupid. WAAAGH! Ashes 5'11" 177 Lb Hobgoblin Female A somber arvec in grey clothes with a skull face Josselyn 5'5" 145 Lb Human Female Ordinary city guard, with a crossbow. Nels 3'7" 42 Lb Goblin Male Tall, for a goblin, and athletic. Close-cut black hair. Edinaz 6'10" 296 Lb Half-Orc Male Grey-skinned half-oruch, extensive black ink. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-= -=-=-=-=-=-= As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Whirlpool Otyugh I am stinky! -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-=
When last we left our heroes, they had just broken free of the symbol causing them to be unable to progress forward. It's difficult.
But it's done. You can now move deeper into the swamp. Great, right?
"Urk, HUUUGH!" Baz not only defaces the symbol but eventually manages to rip a chunk of rock, soil and swamp plants out of the ground and chuck it far out into the swamp where it lands with a SPLOSH. "Oy, dat wot I do to magics. Dat be right top spell break'n." The big Ork grins and then sneezes, and hacks. Coughing up another blob of swamp muck from his previous submergence. "Bleh, dis bettah be worth it."
Ash slogs back through the fetid water to her pack and the thing it's floating on. She climbs back up on the boards, letting the dark water drain out of her clothes. She wonders if there were any leeches in the water. Hopefully there were leeches in the water! She stares at Baz, if there were leeches, he was sure to pick some up. "Should we announce ourselves?"
Josselyn nods "I am sure it will be, we are doing this for a good cause after all." she says checking her crossbow to make sure she didn't get it wet or dirty. "Looks like we can continue, right?"
Nels will follow more cautiously, and less property damagely than Baz, to try and search for the hags. Of course he's not carrying anything, so he's not sure he wants to find them first, but he will look around this odd ... place. "Hello!" he calls out. Sneaking up would give the wrong impression, after all. "We're here to bring you stuff," he adds. Might as well lay on the gravy fast.
It just so happens Baz does notice a leech on his arm. He peers at the black slimy parasite then rips it from his flesh with a grunt. Looking at it as it squirms and it's little fanged mouth chomps at the air. The big Ork finally just tosses it in his mouth with a and with a wet toothy squelch starts chewing it up. "Oy, I'm delicious." He declares, then glancing around huries after the others to keep up. His massive pack of gear dripping swamp muck as he trundles after.
Ash judges, and silently approves. Checking for leeches will be on of those little joys to look forward to at the end of this expedition. She keeps her happy thoughts to herself and continues to follow along, dragging the pack of stuff behind her on the makeshift float. She keeps an eye out for the hags, but mostly ahead of her she can only see Baz.
Now that you're in what appears to be a locale with a raamshackle collection of huts and more, there is only silence. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, a door opens. A figure shrouded in rags, hunched over with its staff, begins to ewmerge. Slowly.
Sllloooooooooooooooooowwwwwwly.
Josselyn raises a hand "Howdy! How are you on this fine day!" she says cheerfully. "These extroadinary peoples are with the adventurers guild and would like a word if you have a few moments. It would be a real help. she says as friendly as possible.
Your ward, the man who's fiance has fallen ill, kinda stares. He's unnerved. Badly unnerved. Between the terrors of the swamp, being hopelessly paralyzed and more, he's definitely suffering from 'cat got his tongue'.
The extroadinary Baz makes a gargling motion. "THWET BIT MAI TONGG" Sticking a big finger in his mouth he eventually levers out a third of a leech, the now dead tiny jaws tightly clenching from fresh red meat. "Aww, a figtha ta da end! I bless you in the name of Kor!" Then he pitches the thing back in his mouth and starts chewing once more while the others talk.
Nels spots the raggy figure emerging, and guesses that she looks pretty hag-like. Is it haggish? He's never cared for haggish, though, and will leave the talking to Josselyn, who seems to have things well in hand.
"Grandmother," Ashlee calls out loudly, remembering the words of her foster mother, a Blar Witch of some renown. It's best to address crones with such titles of respect, and if one is lucky they will have more offspring than they can remember. Her words are still in a monotone, but perhaps they'll be effective, "We have gifts."
Another door opens.
Another swaddled figure in robes. Another door opens. A *Third* swaddled figure.
...greast. There's three weirdo looking people who are presumably the witches you're looking for.
They are silent. Staring. *Staring*.
"...we have brought things to trade," murmurs Aros, finally, choking the words out, "My wife is ill. I'm told your can help. That you might know how to cure apoison."
Josselyn nods "Indeed! We beseach you all to help cure the mans wife, she is horrible sick I am afraid and we have gifts! So thats pretty nice, right?! She adds with a forced cheerfulness, determined to not let the creepy witches affect her.
The big Ork begins to divest himself of packs and bags. Setting them down on the ground, occasionally brushing swamp muck off of them. As much to make a show of the offerins as to get them off his back. The dark armor, covered in spikes and his supply of weapons as well as holy symbol marking him easily as a Battle Priest of Kor. He keeps an aprehensive eye on the 'weirdos' as if gauging how quickly he could close distance and get his lung curved scimitar into play.
Nels will stand by with the group now and try to look helpful while not actually helping, but hopefully not interfering. He smiles toothily when he remembers, but mostly will look for signs of danger. That's why we're giarding, right? He also looks around this swamp construction, it actually looks pretty cool...
"You say gifts but you mean in trade," remarks the first one that spoke.Her voice is a horrifying combination of rasp and song at the same time.
Ashlee stares at each of the witches in turn, giving them the respect of a long, uninterrupted look. She stands still and quiet as she does, her faded fine clothes, dark with swamp water, sticking to her and suggesting a style preference that matches the hags. She's unarmed, and unarmoured, the most interesting thing she possesses is a battered leather satchel that looks older than she is, and has the symbols of her teacher across it. Inside of course, it holds her holy symbol of Vardama, but no need to bring that out just now. She moves around Baz, approaching, dragging along the pack she was give to a dry spot where she can open it. She's curious what is in 'her' sacks also, and looks the various things over before gazing at the first crone. "I brought gifts. I carry his trade items."
The differences between trade, gifts and nuances of the cosmos are contemplated by Baz. As shown by his finger searching around inside of one of his chewed up ears. As Baz's left eye half closes, it's clear he's either found a unique insight, or pushed hard enough with his finger to pinch a nerve.
A crow lands upon the speaking figure's shoulder and begins to groom itself, opening its green eyes upon the gathered. Josselyn shrugs. "Some gifts but then further trade. Surely we can smooth things out, we get our cure and you get some neat stuff. Everyone will be happy!" she adds with a broad smile.
Nels ehs, "Gifts, trade, it's kinda the same." Goblin logic. "We give you something, you give us something. So we're trading gifts, right?" But the guy's pretty desperate, he's basically already decided that he can part with any of this stuff to save his wife... hasn't he?
"There *is* a difference. Gifts ask for nothing in return. You seek a baaaaaaaaargain."
The woman titters. She is soon joiend by her fellow witches. Their laughter is ... unsettling.
"Please help her. They said oinly you might recognize the cure for the thorn, and I've brought so much."
"We live in a swamp! What use do we have for your trinkers and baubles?" She hisses, moving closer to give the golden chalices and more that spill out of one of the bags, which she's responsible for knocking opver, a look. Her pale, sickly green skin barely ivsible behind the swaddle covering her.
Edinaz considers. "Why don't you look and see? There is a wide variety here." He knows, he had to carry it.
Josselyn nods "You bet there are some useful things. I think I even saw someone carrying a spare crossbow. Can't go wrong with a sturdy crossbow for defense and fun! In with a little practice you can even open bottles with the trigger mechanism. she adds helpfully. "Can't go wrong with a crossbow, reliable and sturdy."
Ashlee glances at the crow, giving it a long stare as well. She swallows. The choker around her throat unwinds and crawls into her hair. It emerges from behind an ear, then crosses the top of her head like a hairband, threads between the strands, and its head stares at the crow also. Both of them watch as the crone kicks over the bag.
"Grandmother," Ashlee says again, opening up her personal backpack, "These are for you three. Soap. A makeup and disguise kit, and a mirror." It's not great soap, but one gold piece buys a lot of it. The mirror and the kit are nice. She holds them out.
Finally Baz snorts. "Oy, I 'ad ta carry all dis in." He says with an almost jovial tone. Then there is a chuckle. "Awright, den what do you want? You got a monstah in dese swamps that eats witchy type? I go eat it for ya. Ya? We cut a deal den, what you want for da stuff for dis guy's wife. Right?" The big Ork shifts on his feet, his hand resting on the hilt of sword. Cutting in every respect the resplendent image of the over weight, slouching, seven foot tall murder hobo of an adventuerer that he is.
Nels shrugs as the witches argue semantics with him. But when they complain about nothing useful, he gives Aros a critical look. But taking a cue from Ashlee, he goes through his pockets to look for useful things. "Tindertwigs? Chainmail shirt? Why've'I got that still? And the leather armor, too, I should have pawned that long ago..."
"Hhhst," replies one of the witches. She reaches for the items, offered by Ashlee, turning them over in their hands. Interesting, it seems to say, but mostly in body language. "Fpaww, we do not need *weapons."
"Pshh.."
They titter amongst themselves for a moment, inspecting each person critically. "We suppose *some* might be acceptable to our tastes, but pretty trinkets have no value here."
"What would *you* offer us for this woman's life?"
"My own life," blurts Aros immediately.
Oh.
Oh no.
-Smeck- A big open hand eclipses Baz's own face as Aros makes that statement. There is a groan from the big Ork, followed by a blech. "Oy, dat did it. I got dibs on the horse." He says in what he probably thinks is a aside voice, but is probably over heard by the horse itself far outside the swamp's reach.
Edinaz asks: "Who relies on you, before you do that?" He interjects rather quickly.
Josselyn shakes her head "I do believe we are here to save someone, not have someone die." she says partially to herself. She takes a few steps back, ready to take on any trouble if she sees it.
Ashlee freely gives the things she brought, she intended them as gifts. Amos' offer takes her by surprise. She turns to him, no expression, only her sugar-skull face, watching. Curious how this offer will turn out. Still, perhaps she should counter-bid something. "I could stay and help out."
Nels boggles as the fellow offers up his life for his wife's. Well, that's devotion for you. He's not going to gainsay the fellow's offer, that's laying it on the line and no mistake, though it seems simple enough to ask, "What -do- you want, if none of the stuff we've brought?" The three witches burst out laughing. "Oh how *sweet*, my body."
"What a dear!"
"What a DARLING."
"If we wanted your life, we would merely *take* it. Like so many of the baubles you have broiught us, it offers us nothing of value."
"...*however*..."
The crow's green eyes are now unsettlingly rested on Amos.
"We will take *few* of these baubles, and ask of you another thing."
Once again the horse is tantalizingly out of reach. Baz sighs softly, that big thicc leg of chewy meat denied. There was a maple tree near where they left it, he could have smoked it for a good half day. "Wot?!?" Baz blinks and comes back to life, people are talking and he's been drooling all over the symbol of Kor!
Edinaz grits his teeth. Here is comes. Thumbs hook into his swordbelt, close to his swords. Just in case. And then he waits, working on his heroic impassivity.
Nels ohs as they mention they need another thing entirely. "Well," he asks, "what do you want?"
Josselyn nods "Right, trinkets. What do you need done then? Some berries picked? A bear scared off? Your treed painted nice colors?" she offers as suggestions. You know, relatively easy things.
The ashen Arvec looks at the three witches, nods her head slowly, waiting to hear what they ask. She closes the top flap of her backpack.
"Ffffffffffear."
The witch's scarf distends unusually.
Because her jaw is distending unsuually. With a click.
The other two cackle.
"Tell us your fears. Tell us a tale of your terrors."
"Tell us! Tell us!"
The crow stares at each in turn as the witches echo.
"Tell us so that we can taste them!"
Nels ehs, "Fears?" What does he fear? That's easy. "Gettin' turned into a human again. That was one hundred percent awful. I had vertigo like all the time cause you're all way too tall. And I had to get new clothes that looked dopey and didn't fit and everyone looked at me funny. And you're that horrible pale pinkish-tan color instead of gorgeous green. No warts, either. Gah," he shivers.
Josselyn falls over and sinks into the swamp.
"Oy dats easy. We was march'n back from da Demons. 'Cause our sky ship had crashed. We had dis big mystical thingy we had ta get back and da demons was all after us. Dey told me I couldn't stay and eats them all. Had ta march." Baz sniffs, either at the thought of retreat or not consuming the enemy. "Dey just me dis elf food, it was leaves and wood and rocks and stuff. Ya know what da knife ears eats. Dats all I had! Den we found kobolds and the right little shits was attacking us, but I could stay and kills them and eat them. 'Cause we had to be on the move, and I'm not allowed tae eat stuff that talks! Wot? Thats too much stuff not tae eat!" The big Ork says exasperatedly.
"Days, and Days of running from fights and eat'n elf turf. It scared me still. I live that fear all da time. No fight'n, no eating!" Baz exclaims, building up a steam of terror. "Just moah and moah wood, rocks and leaves! Kor was laughing at me! When I prayed for me power he called me compost mouth and told me I was look'n slim and pale. Dat I should worship that gardening git."
Edinaz sucks on his teeth, thinking. "I think the thing I'm scared the most of is that it's all a lie, and that I'm going to die in some sewer somewhere, and not amount to anything." He sweats lightly, thinking about it.
Ashlee stares, captivated as the witch's jaw distends, drops. She finds this fascinating. It's the kind of thing she wishes she could do. Then she ponders their request.
Fear.
Something she fears. She blinks slowly. This will be hard. Not that there aren't things she fears, even though she's struggling to come up a specific example. Her fear, like all the other things she feels, is rather muted. It's not likely interesting at all. Also, it might take some explaining, and she doesn't like that. Oh.
"I'm afraid of conversation, and bright sunlight."
She looks over at Edinaz, "That's entirely possible."
"Oh, is that all? Such a braaaaaaaave soul," says one of the witches to Nels. "A human! A TER RIBLE FATE INDEED!" cackles another.
Nels begins to experience a terrible vertigo...
"Elf food? Is that /allllll/? It seems to me you might be afraid kobolds." Baz hears them, lurking in the trees all around you. Terrible, peeping, the clacking of readying traps. Everywhere.
"But you will only amount to dust in the end?" The witch's eyes are not but black pits to Edinaz. It's almost like he can see his future in them. A great, empty expanse of nothing.
"We would keep you for a day," replies one of the witches to ashlee.
"I could usee a teaaaaaaaaaaaaa partner."
Nels wauuuugh as he finds himself tall again. Or feeling tall. Gah, he closes his eyes, but it doesn't help, because then he feels he's swaying also. He falls to the ground and clutches at it to hold on.
Ashlee stiffens, her arms pressing against her sides. She stands tall. She stares straight ahead, because that's one of her main skills and she tends to default to it. Her right hand tightens on her satchel strap, and her centipeded familiar in an attempt to help her feel better, crawls down through her hair and encircles her throat, then rotates around it a few times, so she receives the massage of hundreds of tiny feet. She squeaks a monotone reply, "Ok."
"Oh, Hah, Hah, Hah!" Baz rumbles to life, cracking his knuckles then pulling the long curved scimitar from his hip. "Yeah, time tae fight! I was gett'n bored." The Ork grins widely. The threat of violence getting his blood roiling. The thoughts of fear about terrible food, no fighting and the disapointment of his God flowing from his mind as the promise of combat envigorates him. He slams his fist into his armored chest, druming on the metal a combative tune. "C'mon ya little bastards, I'm gonna put a skull on everyone of me fingahs! Gonna show dem off ta me daughters, look how stylish and pretty yer ole man is wit his fingies!"
"Oh, no no no," Edinaz says, clenching his fists. "No. I refuse this." He sets his jaw, muscle bunching. He's sweating, but he's trying to put on a good face.
"He's an orc," Ash stares at the witch closest to her. Perhaps if she gets all the conversation out of the way early, she won't have to do it all day. She continues in monotone, "His real fear is dying of sickness in a bed. Too weak to rise, surrounded by great warriors who refuse to let him pick a fight with them."
Aros has collapserd toground, sobbing, as one of the women whispers something in his ear.
Baz's excitement isn't lost on them, of course, but that's when then Kobolds, at least as far as he's concerned ... begin throwing things at him.
Elf food. Endless amounts of elf food.
And it's all he has to eat. And he's suddenly feeling *very* hungry.
GAME: Edinaz rolls will: (16)+4: 20 GAME: Baz da Ork rolls Will: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Ashes rolls will: (12)+8: 20 GAME: Nels rolls will: (11)+3: 14
"Ah, dats dirty fight'n!" Baz exclaims as he's pelted with healthy food. Swinging his scimtar wildly to intecept some of it. He finally sheathes the blade at his hip and taps the odd quiver he has belted. The massive balista like bow pops into existence in his right hand and he's soon waving it about and spitting. "Nae! Nae! Leaves and Radishes! Naw! Not the grains!" Then his left hand snaps up with a dark fletched arrow. His arms flex as the bow groans like a ship at sail. It's compound and reinforced lengthed tuned to his monstrous strength. With a FWWTHOOOM an arrow hurtles off into the night before the Ork starts fending off more Nature's Bounty from the little monsters. Where his next arrow, capable of punching through a castle gate might end up, well...
Then the effects wash over him and the bow is dropped by his feet and he surges to his knees. Shoveling up the pelted food and eating it. "WArrggh! Kor! Kill Me!" Munch Munch Munch. Big handles of dried fruit, acorn meal bread and the bounty of the endless forest are shoveled into Baz's digestion. "AwwwRRGH! I'm eat'n what me food eats! AAARGH!"
Nels clings to the ground, but it's not enough, he's falling, he's too high, clinging to the ground doesn't feel like it's on the ground, he feels like he's a mile in the air, standing on a rope, with nothing but emptiness underneath him. He dry heaves into the swamp, possibly leaving it a bit less yucky, and curls up in a ball, writhing.
Edinaz bears down, and sees through it. He studies the witches, and asks them: "You've tasted our fears now -- does this invalidate the deal if we help our friends?"
GAME: Ashes casts Protection From Evil. Caster Level: 3 DC: 14
Ashes contemplates things. The offer of tea seems genuine, and while meeting new people, new situations are very unsettling to her, she is determined to push herself to develop socially. It could work out. In fact, the more she thinks about it, the more it seems like a good opportunity. Her reply is an empty, monotone, response, "I will stay for tea."
Perhaps she'll have enthusiasm in her voice one day.
Meanwhile, Nels distress is also distressing her. It's all that goblin responsibility training. She takes a step closer to him, and places her hand on his shoulder. She faces the witches, staring, "Nels is my friend. He is a great goblin, and makes a terrible human. I don't want him to suffer. I'll stay extra days instead."
Her other hand sneaks in the satchel, touches the holy scales, 'tink'. "Feiu of the Tears, shroud him." The stillness of the grave surrounds the gun goblin.
"Mn. Lovely fears."
"Yes! DEL-icious."
"WE approve."
Aros sobs on the ground, openly. He's devastated.
"Beauqtiful tears," replies one of the witches. "
"Beautiful fears," replies another.
"Yes, we can help you now. There is but one last thing you need do."
Going down on both of his hands, Baz wretches. He shudders and slowly forces himself to his feet, his bow vanishing away into his mystical quiver. "Oy, when I get me stomach back. I'm gonna kill." He hacks, as if his great bellows like lungs are going to work themselves free. "Fwag, legs and arms and burning and smoke!"
Edinaz arms fold on his chest. "What is that last thing?" His head tilts warily.
Nels is still panting hard as he finally feels the crippling vertigo fading. He sits up, wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and climbs unsteadily to his feet. "Gah, I think I swallowed the swamp."
Ashlee turns back, standing still and quiet, and waits to hear what the one last thing is.
The witches cackle, and that crow... watches!
