Campaign Log -- Day Fifteen, Morning of Day Sixteen

The 21st day of the month of Obad-Hai
The 110th year of the second Ravensblood dynasty

Quimarel enters the Royal Intelligence Corps lobby, and the guards posted in front of the door that leads to the non-publically-accessible parts of the building challenge her.

Cpl. Ogloya: What is your business here?
Quimarel: I have a question for the Spymistress.
Cpl. Ogloya: Is she expecting you?
Quimarel: No, this has come up rather suddenly.
The good corporal decides to go check with Zubynna to see whether she is willing to speak to the owner of the Squirting Squid on short notice. She is.
Cpl. Ogloya: She says that she is not terribly busy, and she would be happy to speak to a pillar of the community such as yourself.
Quimarel: Wonderful.
Cpl. Ogloya: I will lead you up so that you… find your way without… going anywhere you shouldn’t.
Quimarel: Of course.

The guard leads her through this huge scriptorium area where goblins are copying stuff down -- they and the guard are cagey about what they’re writing, and are careful not to let her see any of it. However, as she’s passing a desk, Quimarel sees [Perception: 22] that the goblin there is writing…

Quimarel OOC: Fifty Shades of Goblin?
GM: Fifty Shades of Greenish-Brown… no.

“…According to our sources in Barlgilton, the assassination of the minister seems imminent, perhaps within the next three months…”

The PCs are aware that Barlgilton is the big city up north, about two weeks’ ride away if you have a fast horse.

At the back of the scriptorium, there is a stairway, which Cpl. Ogloya leads her up. The second floor is a small hallway with a few simple wooden doors, one of which Cpl. Ogloya helpfully opens for her. It’s a nice roomy office with a window and a desk that’s big (for a goblin). Zubynna is sitting behind the desk, which doesn’t seem to have anything on it other than her lunch -- perhaps she just cleared all the documents into a drawer. Or maybe she just doesn’t have anything to do today. The lunch in question appears to be an ankheg claw; as she talks, she occasionally picks it up and takes a bite, chewing up the exoskeleton along with the meat. She does not pause in her discourse to chew -- goblins don’t put much thought into table manners.

If you were a goblin, this would look delicious.

Spymistress Zubynna Chief Muck-Laugh: What can I help you with? [crunch]
[Quimarel regales the Spymistress with “pleasantries according to her station”, etc.]
Quimarel: Normally I wouldn’t bother you; I know you’re very busy. However, we seem to be having some trouble with fairy folk, and you are one of the most learned individuals in town, so I was hoping you would know of some way of solving this problem. Little bastards keep bothering my customers, and they won’t leave one of my whores alone. Have you ever had a problem with these things?
Zubynna: Not… [crunch] …personally. Well, I know that they rarely venture into town.
Quimarel: Yes, we’re kind of on the outskirts; I think that’s why they’ve been so bold.
Zubynna: I suspect… [crunch] …that they may be doing this because they want something. [crunch] [chew chew chew] There’s something I might have to check.
Quimarel: What could they want? They tend to leave us alone, at least until recently.
Zubynna: That’s classified. [crunch]
[Significant pause as the two women stare at each other. Zubynna’s body language is more or less opaque; Quimarel [Sense Motive: 14] can’t pick up any telltale signs of deception or strong emotion.]
Zubynna: I… [chew] …have to speak to one of my… [chew chew] …employees about an ongoing project. [crunch] In the meantime, feel perfectly free to swat them. They’re annoying little things, and deserve it.
Quimarel: Thank you very much. Will you let me know if you find out?
Zubynna: I will send you a message. [crunch]
Quimarel: Thank you. I appreciate it.

Quimarel departs, and shares the content of the conversation with Hiddlebatch. “Apparently,” she says, “there’s an ‘ongoing project’ involving fairies. So I don’t know if there’s something special about Silvermoss, or if they just grabbed one… I don’t know what this project entails.”

The PCs go to consult Silvermoss, and ask if he can tell them where to find the rest of the fairies.

Silvermoss: Of course; I can guide you to where they frequent.
Hiddlebatch: Oh, we’re still concerned about your safety if you venture out of the chapel. Why don’t you just tell us where to find them? And here, have some mead.
Quimarel: Of course, if we just wander around in the wilderness for long enough, we’re sure to find some eventually.
Silvermoss: [drinks some mead] Okay, um, flying north, for… about ten hours…
Hiddlebatch OOC: How fast do they fly?
DM: You haven’t timed him.
Hiddlebatch OOC: Knowledge [nature] check… ha! Natural 20.
DM: Nearly twice as fast as you walk.
Silvermoss: …then, when you reach the field of red flowers, turn… right, and continue… until you reach an area with lots of snakes, then turn left… then eventually you’ll run into them.
Hiddlebatch: …how about we just go out into the wilderness carrying lots of mead and honey?

The PCs decide to wait until they get a message from Zubynna, then go looking for fairies.

Later that day, a messenger arrives at the Squirting Squid with a little sealed scroll, which he hands to Quimarel and waits, in case of response. Quimarel casts Detect Magic -- not magic.

The scroll reads:

I can’t explain why they’re here -- it’s still classified -- but if you can catch one and bring it to us alive, we would reward you.

Hiddlebatch OOC: I Sense Motive on the paper. 16.
GM: The paper is… dead.
Hiddlebatch OOC: NOOOOOOO! WHYYYYYYYYYY!

The PCs discuss this new information, presumably out of the messenger’s earshot. (I mean, they never SAID “out of earshot”, but it’s only listening to the recordings later that I realize how much I could have screwed with them by having the messenger overhear.)

Hiddlebatch: When we go to see what’s going on, we should catch one and bring it back.
Quimarel: Why don’t we just give them… wait, they’d probably be suspicious if they got the same one back, wouldn’t they?
Hiddlebatch: You have terrible ideas.
Quimarel: That’s why I stopped myself.

Quimarel writes a response on the back of the scroll:

Thank you for letting me know. I will do what I can -- please let me know if we can be of further assistance.

The PCs take some time to discuss whether Quimarel’s handwriting looks appropriately respectful. The messenger fidgets and waits. They send him back with the scroll, and head off into the wilderness.

[Random Encounter Table: 75-89 (lone traveller)]
[Lone Traveller Table: 50]

After a few hours walking in a generally northerly direction, around sundown, the pair runs across a lone traveller. It’s a goblin, in clerical robes that look crudely sewn. He seems fairly friendly, and goes out of the way to greet the party.

Kornnul Tribeless: Greetings, fellow travellers. Would you mind if perhaps I shared your fire this evening? It’s very dangerous to travel alone, and larger groups are best for safe--
Quimarel OOC: Sense Motive. 14.
Hiddlebatch OOC: 18.

They feel like the goblin is probably being honest about just wanting to share a fire and enjoy “safety in numbers” for the night. Hiddlebatch recognizes that there’s something… off… about him, but who is H to judge?

The goblin wears a wooden holy symbol, stained green and carved in the shape of an eye. Hiddlebatch recognizes the symbol as that of one of the new gods, Saurivuntyr the All-Seeing [Knowledge(religion): 24] Saurivuntyr, Hiddlebatch knows, is usually represented as a green dragon. He’s not really worshiped in these parts, but lately elves in green wooden masks, hailing from a land far to the south, have been wandering the area and spreading word of this new and powerful god, The goblin must therefore be a recent convert.

Hiddlebatch: So, we’re pretty far from any towns [Hiddlebatch has apparently forgotten that H and Quimarel are only a few hours’ walk away from home]; what are you doing out here?
Kornnul: Ah -- I am travelling to a chapel of Saurivuntyr. It is in the wilderness a few weeks south of here, and I must reach it so that I may perform my Ritual of the Mask.

Hiddlebatch casts Detect Magic, but the goblin is not inherently magical. There is a faint aura around his holy symbol, which might indicate that he has recently used it to cast a spell, but that’s about it.
They sit down with the goblin; he helps build a fire, and pulls out a rabbit he shot earlier that day for some food --

Hiddlebatch OOC: So he has no magical items?
GM: No.

Quimarel decides she wants to hear the guy’s story, so she “applies her conversational skills” to hear about his life and travels. His name is Kornnul Tribeless, and he is originally from Trisnedort, another Capran protectorate. The PCs are vaguely familiar with it, as it is dominated by Tribe Gloom-Foul, the other major goblin tribe connected to the Royal Intelligence Corps.

Quimarel OOC: You know, this guy just encountering us in the forest [Quimarel is apparently forgetting that they are in the Wastelands, a steppe-like environment that only supports small clumps of trees here and there, near bodies of water]... “Dear Penthouse, you’ll never believe…”

Time passes in much this way. They hang out around the fire, Kornnul offers them some cooked rabbit, and the PCs get to hear about the all-seeing eye of Saurivuntyr, how it watches all of your misdeeds and judges you, how one day Saurivuntyr will melt this world down and build a new one from the ashes, etc.

Quimarel: I can respect that plan.
[pause]
Quimarel OOC: I would like to insinuate that I would be willing to give Saurivuntyr a show, wink wink nudge nudge. [Charisma check: 22]
GM: Let’s fade to black on this.

While Quimarel leads Kornnul off behind a nearby hillock, Hiddlebatch rummages through his bag. It’s mostly the kind of stuff you’d need for a long cross-country trip, such as preserved food (mostly jerky rations). There’s also a small scroll that seems to be notes he’s taken from sermons.

The 22nd day of the month of Obad-Hai
The 110th year of the second Ravensblood dynasty

The night passes without further incident, and in the morning the PCs and Kornnul go their separate ways. As he’s leaving, Hiddlebatch suddenly remembers something.

Hiddlebatch: Hey! Have you seen any fairies recently?
Kornnul: Yes, I have! Two nights ago, when I was sleeping, they took charcoal from my firepit and drew obscenities all over my face and clothing.
[laughter from the PCs]
Kornnul: Then they lit my shoes on fire. Luckily, I packed a spare pair.
Hiddlebatch: Whereabouts was this?
Kornnul: Somewhere north of here. There wasn’t much in the way of landmarks.
Hiddlebatch: Thank you.

They continue going their separate ways. When Kornnul is almost out of earshot, Hiddlebatch yells “Khurgorbaeyag could kick your god’s ass!” and runs away.

Hiddlebatch’s player expresses confusion that I actually had “poverty-stricken recent convert of Saurivuntyr” on my random encounter table. Quimarel’s player, who was my roommate at the time, explains that she’s seen me writing up tables for fun, so it’s not that unusual.