Part 8: Wherein a village and a mine are saved, at least one accidentally

: Were that night's rest my lord's punishment for some future sin, I can only imagine we are somehow responsible for the end of the realms some day.
: It wasn't so bad! Pasquale just needed to know how to make the cave cozy. Agda used the dead kobolds as a pillow!
: Cornelius, you don't look well - did you sleep alright?
: A word of warning. Don't sleep in the lowest point in the room when sharing accomodations with Beef. His gasses tend to… collect there.
: Beef shouldn't eat left-over Kobold food before bed.



: Right! No mistakes this time! We follow the river until we find the bridge to Samargol.
: Indulge my curiosity - should we find no bridge?
: We shall forge one from my manifest contempt for the people of Samarach.



: What do you know? It looks like the bridge was only about ten minutes upriver of where we started looking the other day.
: Talk about embarrassing.
: _{Oh my poor, useless nose!}



: I might say "home sweet home", only I loath this place.



: We had better tell her about Luaire's betrayal.
: Let us not assume the saboteur is he, there are plenty of alternate explanations. Perhaps he was simply murdered.



: So now we require a specialist to examine the toxin. Does anyone know a peddler of poisons?
: On this continent? No.
: Bet it won't be hard. Everyone's a snake in Samarach! Sometimes for real!



: Hold, a moment. Before we go stomping off to do the bidding of our de facto owner, I want to propose a business venture.
: Very well. Speak your mind.
: This step in our investigation is a natural break. The saboteur is likely well away by now, so there is little urgency in revealing him-
: Apart from justice.
: And revenge!
: And also the very real possibility that he is still working against us.
: Okay yes, but apart from that, why don't we take a few days to pursue our own goals for a change instead of spending our time saying "yes mam, no mam, three gnomes full mam,"? Did we not come here originally to explore, adventure, and profit? Especially that last one?
: My research notes are a bit thin at the moment…
: Agda's fine with doing something new. Being errand-runners was getting kinda boring.
: Beef want to see whole new world!
: Hm… I suppose it couldn't hurt. Very well, master Napalm - where do you propose we go?



: North-east! No bridges, no ship-wrecks, all fresh and new and waiting to be exploited.
: Explored.
: That too!



: Oooh, Beef spy with Beefy eye a funny-lookin' stone!



: Uhh… no, Beef remembers promises. Don't want get grounded.



: New town up ahead! Sign says… Nimbre!
: I've never heard of it - excellent! A new chapter in the making.



: Hm… Depending on what those Samargol troops are here for, it might be a short entry.
: This doesn't look good. We better investigate.





: A group of authoritarian soldiers submitting baseless charges on the blameless. It should worry me that this sight is becoming mundane the longer we spend in Samarach.
: I don't know, I find it refreshing to see some other group of witless rubes being caught up in it for once.
: No, this won't stand! It's unlawful and it's… wrong!
: Agda agrees! When do we start kicking?
: Might I suggest we try to solve this situation without violence? A novel suggestion, I know.
: Fine, if you simply must suck all the pleasure out of the experience.
: We shall split up and look for some sort of evidence. Pick, you and I shall visit the town's lore master. The rest of you see what you can find out here.



: Heronius, is that… shopping?
: What? This merchant has excellent prices, what with half of his customer base being arrested.
: We're supposed to be looking for clues, ogre's coccyx!
: Colourful. Anyways, there's no point in getting in the way. Cornelius and Pick live for these sorts of challenges, and Pasquale's forced to by his vows. Too many cooks spoils the soup and all that.
: This is stupid, and Heronius is a… is that spicy pork jerky?
: Half-off!



: Okay, Beef. We shall fan out and question the accused.
: Beef only knows a few questions. Was best at multiple choices!
: Correction. I shall question the accused, you shall fan out.



: They say it is the human side of a paladin's work that make up for the nonexistent pay and terrible hours.



: There we are, the lore master. Let me speak, he is more likely to respond to me as a fellow academic.



: So what, were you a sailor in your younger days, or a-
: *ARGH* My head!



: He kicked me in the head!
: Hey man, don't be so sensitive! We all did stupid things when we were young!



: Looks like he's got friends!
: This is no oversensitive old man, they are the Yuan-ti cultists!



: Damn! Warded against acid. I should have guessed, most snake cults are-
: Less talk! More magic!



: Warded against lightning as well? I never thought I'd say this, but we could use Heronius's help right now.
: These guys are really surprisingly good at this! Tell me you've got something else?
: Well I do have-
: No badgers!



: Very well. I only hope this is enough…



: I'm… human sized?
: And made of stone! I confess, the made-of-stone part will probably be more decisive.



: It worked! These guys are no match for me! We did it!



: And here is the evidence we need - a scroll needlessly describing this Yuan-ti cultist's plot in full. If the gods were real, they'd have an embarrassingly sloppy sense of plot development.



: Quick, everyone! Cornelius and I found evidence that-
: Tyr's balls! Our scrawny hoodlum is all grown up!
: Yaaay! Now Pick a real boy!
: Leaping lizard folk! Pick's huge!
: Bah, that's nothing - he was rock hard not a moment ago, by my hand!
: Really?!
: This conversation isn't happening lalalalalala saving the village now.





: Refreshing, a problem solved using our wits and investigation instead of violence.
: Except for that man you killed for the evidence. And his assistants.
: Baby steps.
: Uh, so, Agda was wondering what Pick was planning on doing tonight after the adventure.
: Agda, the spell wears off in about a minute.
: Right, we've wasted more than enough time on these turnip-farmers, and after my heroic efforts to save them there should be some decent gratitude coming our way to be milked. Behold, peasants, your saviours!





: I am… unfulfilled.
: Welcome to my world.



: We're through here. There's not even an inn to stay at, not that they'd take us after this. Not that I'd want to pay anyone in this town money after this!
: What smells of jerky?
: We were investigating!

Editor's Note:

For the curious, Nimbre does in fact feature as an entry in Cornelius's book. The entry simply reads "Nimbre: A puny village near the centre of Samarach. Don't even bother, I wish I hadn't."



: Right, we should continue to the North-East.
: Why? What do you think is there?
: Nothing! Er, that is, nothing special. It's just an instinct.
: We are to be guided by your instincts? I may need to wash afterwards.
: Ooooh, zing! Huge points for the paladin!



: Ugh, bet we're lost again. Bet Heronius doesn't know where we are.
: Don't be stupid. We're on a road, it has to go somewhere.
: Yeah, like off the edge of the world maybe. Or into the hells. Or maybe we'll just go round and round forever, stuck in a little loop road somewhere.
: What? No way, can't happen.
: No, it's true! Agda was on the Sword Coast when a group of adventurers like us got stuck on a little ring road that got smaller and smaller every time they went round until one day they walked into their own backsides! Couldn't take a step forwads without kicking themselves in the butt! Trapped forever!



: Ah, Torich at last.
: Heard of this place then, have you?
: In passing, maybe.
: Let Beef in! Beef don't want to kick own butt forever!



: We would like to rent one common room for the night.
: Two rooms! One for men and one for Agda.
: Wuss.
: Very well. Two-
: Three rooms! One for Beef.
: Why does Beef need a room to himself?
: That depends - will you take a bottom bunk?
: Beef got pork and bean stew in Nimbre! Will make good midnight snack if anybody want to share.
: …Three rooms.

The next day



: Behold, Beef, as I seamlessly uncover an excuse to get the rest of the party to do my bidding.



: Just looks like a buncha talking to Beef.
: Ahhh, and that is how I know it will work.



: Once more I have a helpful plan of action to present to the group.
: Is this going to be any better than Heronius's last plan? Nimbre blew.
: I second the sentiment.
: Then the motion is carried, but if we can move on to more pressing agenda items, a man in the bar has said that a nearby salt mine is infested with fire newts. If we can dislodge them, not only will we be rewarded, but we can keep anything we loot as well as open up the salt trade to our merchant backers.
: A masterful if mind-bogglingly convenient arrangement. Forgive me for being a little suspicious that you managed to find what sounds like an ideal job by picking a direction on the map at random and marching us in a straight line for a day.
: At least it sounds like a simple task. I raised newts as a child, they were hardly fierce warriors.
: You raised newts? Why?
: When one is allergic to fur, feathers, pollen, and so on, a pet one keeps in a glass box appeals.



: Then let us away! Success and profit await.



: Newts up ahead! They must be out on patrol!
: Any look like Pasquale's?
: Mine were… decidedly smaller. And less anthropomorphic. And less armed.
: Don't worry! This's just a warm-up!
: Warm up?



: Beef always hot!



: There they are - the mines! I thought we had passed it on the way up.
: Keeping an eye out for mines, were you?
: Beef keeping eye out for things on travel bingo card! Just have ox cart and purple worm left!



: This is decidedly less convenient… but a good deal more thematic, I must say.
: Waaaah! Beef scared by haunted mine! Wanna go back!
: Oh don't be such a big green baby, it's just some mood-lighting torches. Even Cornelius could conjure one of those. There's nothing to worry-



: Whoops, pardon me… wait
: Shadows! We are attacked! To arms!



: Damnation! My smite does nothing, we have brought no magical arms with us!



: They still burn, and that means they have scant seconds to live. Or unlive. Or be some sort of elemental construct of… oh what does it matter? Flame on!



: You can still keep them at bay. Hold them back, so that I might rain magic upon them!
: They're transparent. My axe goes straight through them. Why don't they just walk through us and attack the mages?
: Pick! Never question a tactical advantage out loud!



: That's the last of them, and good riddance.
: The shadows… they have sapped my strength. I can barely lift my arms from the ache - more than usual, I mean.
: Oh really? Do you want me to perhaps relieve you of your heavy load? Say, perhaps, the party treasur-
: No!



: The way is shut. Collapsed… this is not the way. The fire newts must be… somewhere else in the mines.
: Hah! Once again the absolute necessity of the mighty sorcerer is demonstrated next to the uselessness of the self-righteous holy man. Now let's check that other mine passage.



: Ahhhh! More shadows! Quick! Someone get between me and them!
: I would, but I am… using my remaining strength… to pass on thanks to my lord for his speedy delivery of poetic justice.
: If your supposed 'god' could prove a reliable source of retribution for stupid things Heronius says, I may just have to convert.



: Nevertheless, we solve this problem the same way.
: Haha! Beef big rock now! Also thinking happy thoughts! Nightmares can't hurt Beef while in happy rocky place!



: Wait… another dead end? But… There was supposed to be a… fire newt chief here… with a fire axe! To steal!
: My love of… ironic misery is clashing with a… sinking sensation that there may be more than one mine… outside of Torich.
: Heronius, what were you directions? Where did they say to go?
: South East of Torich of course, so we went… South… uh…



: Promise me - promise, all of you! - that we shall never speak of this again.
: Naturally!
: You have my word.
: Wouldn't dream of it.

Editor's note:

The ending exchange is by far the most well-recorded part of the entire chronicles, featuring explicitly in every accounting of the party's history (with the notable exception of Heronius's own diary). The mine itself was renamed 'Napalm's Folly' by locals, and to this day a common joke in Torich is to tell someone to head West when one means East, though the reason is long-forgotten by the public.




{What with the workload I've got these days I'm expecting to update this thread every four to five days now, maybe a little earlier when permitting. I want to keep the updates regular but I just don't have enough time to keep them close together, unfortunately! Don't worry though, the updates should keep to a normal schedule. Neither rain, nor snow, nor dead of lines will keep these adventurers from their appointed combat rounds.}