[IC] Death & Taxes (Session 1)

Over the next few weeks, things return to normal. You take on various inquiries in teams and individually: finding lost cats, shadowing errant husbands, that sort of thing.

Lady Argus is mostly preoccupied with her own inquiries, but she does purchase a small team of horses and a wagon for use on inquiries that require travel to other cities. You get the impression that she's interested in taking on more jobs in nearby cities, but not in expanding operations fully there just yet. For the most part, she leaves the day-to-day operation of the business to you, though.

Thus it's nothing out of the ordinary when a jittery Free-Cities Elf comes calling one morning while you all happen to be in the headquarters.

The woman is obviously agitated, and Tronus thinks he detects a bit of disgust in the woman's pronunciation of "tax collector," like maybe there's some bad blood there?

At any rate, she remains agitated. Calming her somehow might be a good plan.

😆

Shortly after your client leaves, the five of you decide on a course of action.

Hildar

Hildar remains in the headquarters to check over the ledger. The document is rather dry, so Hildar has to struggle to interpret the strange phrasings.NeraMeanwhile, Nera follows Rathin Vintoloness to see what she is up to in Nornholt, under the pretense that the client forgot to turn over the baronial writ she promised. The lady walks at a brisk clip, and Nera has to work fast to stay unseen as she follows.NekurrNekurr plans to consult with the clerics of Saint Durvin's Cathedral, both to check in on your former quarry, Vizeron Dribbage, and to ask whether they have had any outreach in Buzzards' Ford. When he arrives at the cathedral, he finds several monks going about their daily business and a priest preparing to lead a small ceremony for a few faithful, lined in pews.

BruvBruv travels to the library in the Upper City to see what information may be available there. The library has a few other patrons at the moment, a wizened old Human male, and what appears to be a Gnome nanny with two children in tow. The librarian is a doughty-looking Elven woman.Tronus

Finally, Tronus tries to find a merchant who may have some knowledge of the area near the Blackwing Swamp. He considers a couple of ways to go about this: First, he could follow Nekurr up to the Upper City and consult the people in the Trade Guild Office. This approach is more straightforward, but many of the guild masters there have been fairly established in Nornholt for decades, meaning they don't travel much. Alternatively, he could canvas the marketplaces to see if he can find a merchant familiar with the area. It's a bit less sure, but he's more likely to find someone who travels the area between Nornholt and Tamalir (and by the swamp).

Hildar has to reach back to the earliest days of his education, when studied the history of Human accounting methods—so different from how Elves do it! He manages to establish that this is indeed a standard tax ledger as used by the Barony of Cailn. It shows regular tax payments starting 92 years in the past. The payments are relatively low for the first fourteen years of the village's existence, which a note blames on poor harvests. Then, the collected tax amounts go up quite precipitously for a few years—it's really quite surprising. The tax payments stop eleven years back, just as Vintoloness said they did.

The book itself has some scrape marks down the leather cover consistent with falling behind a shelf, as the client suggested. As he's thumbing through the volume, a small slip of parchment falls out. On it, Hildar finds that someone has sketched out a rough map of the village. What a lucky find! A few locations are even labeled. There's no indication of when the map was made, however.

Nera is perhaps disappointed. Inside, she finds the inn's common room nearly empty save for a couple of well-dressed Humans having a conversation at a table toward the back. A doughy-faced girl in a fine dress looks surprised at the Catfolk's appearance. "Um, sorry, Miss. Are you lost?"

To his chagrin, Bruv can't find reference to Blackwing Swamp in any of the sources where he'd suspect to find it. He does come across an interesting collection of Cailn folklore titled Old Ways and Days in Southern Cailn. The author details several customs that have fallen out of favor since the Third Darkness: training birds to fight, eating hallucinogenic plants, and a preference for ad hoc religious rituals in lieu of organized services.

"Non compos mentis? Seeing how he is now a goatman... I guess it's not just his mind. I guess with him locked like that there is not chance to chat with him then..." Nekurr looks at the pile of papers "Noon tomorrow? Can't they put some clerk under your capable hands? It will take some prober organisation to have that much overwork done in time! "

You all make your way back to Argus headquarters by early evening. The picture you have of Buzzards' Ford, this missing tax collector, and Rathin Viontoloness's motivations is still hazy perhaps, but it's at least not completely opaque. You use the opportunity to inform your colleagues of what you've each uncovered.

You all get a good night's rest in preparation for the trip south to Buzzards' Ford. With the maps found in the ledger, the way seems fairly clear: Take the Tamalir road southeast for about three days' ride, then make your way westward along the Flametail River for a day or less, depending on the conditions. That said, there are often side-roads and cut-throughs that don't often make it onto maps such as these, so it may be worth a look to find a quicker path.

After studying the maps, you conclude that there are likely two ways you could approach Buzzards’ Ford. The first would be to head southeast on the main road toward Tamalir until you reach the Flametail River. The village map indicates that the main entrance is only reachable by taking a ferry across the Flametail, which means you’ll need to somehow cross to the south bank of the river, make your way west, and then take the Buzzards' Ford ferry at the village entrance entrance a short ways into the swamp. This approach is the most straightforward, and should be achievable in four days in your horse cart.

The second approach would be to head southeast to the crossroads shown on the area map, known as Cailn Crossroads. From there, you could take footpaths due south—Hildar recalls reading about these in his studies—until you reach the edge of the Blackwing Swamp from the north. The smaller map seems to show a tributary of the Flametail River flowing southeast through Buzzards’ Ford. Assuming you could find water transport—perhaps with one of the Lizardfolk tribes if you could establish friendly relations— you could come into the town from this direction, saving potentially two days’ worth of travel and gaining the element of surprise on the villagers. However, that might also cause problems, especially if they’re as jumpy as you’ve heard they might be. Presumably, they don’t get along with the Lizardfolk.

In sum, you can take the tried-and-true approach and arrive in four days by horse cart, traversing the river in two places to do so. Or you can take your chances with either a swamp guide or the Lizardfolk and try to reach the village by river from the north. This latter approach would shave a day of travel time off and give you the element of surprise, but it might present difficulties due to your horse cart.

Either way, the Cailn Crossroads is on the route either way, and Tronus happens to know a guild mate there named Gilga Oakenwheel who might be able to care for your horse or set you up with a swamp guide if you’d like—for the right price, of course.

Early the next morning, you all mount up in the horse cart with provisions enough to last two weeks, fodder for the pair of horses, bedrolls for all of you, flint and tinder, and enough tents to sleep your group. The trip southeast is uneventful. You spend your first night in tents, but before the second night falls, you arrive at Cailn Crossroads.The area isn't so much a village as it is a building: A single inn sits near the crossroads with a handful of horses tethered up in stables nearby. You know that this is where Tronus's guild mate, Gilga Oakenwheel, is supposed to live, or at least frequent. Tronus knows that she can fill in some of the blanks about what an off-road, northern approach to the swamp would entail, but she's not one to talk without something in return.

It's a good place to stop for the night one way or another.

Meanwhile, Bruv glances around the tavern, which is steadily filling up as nightfall encroaches. The crowd for the most part seems to be the expected mix of merchants, pilgrims, and other travelers. There are a few rougher-looking characters. For instance, there's a trio of surly-looking men (two Human, one Orc) at a central table, who seem to be whispering to one another. There's also a drunken Dwarf singing a tune-badly-to an Orc lass.

While the others talk to the information broker, Bruv quickly learns that if he's interested in hunting the swamp, the three rough-looking blokes at the central table are the men to talk to. He notices as he heads over that they seem to be eyeing the drunken Dwarf singing nearby. As Bruv approaches them, he hears one of them talking about how to separate the Dwarf form his purse... They clam up as Bruv approaches, but he puts them at ease and gets them to agree to answer a few questions about the swamp.

When you return to the common room at sunrise, the tavern is much calmer than it was last night. You notice the rough-looking Humans and Orc Bruv met are outside saddling up their horses, now joined by the Orc woman whom you noticed flirting with the drunken Dwarf the night before. Otherwise, only a few lone travelers sit at the tavern tables, eating a breakfast of bread, milk, and sausage. It's easy enough to find your own table out of earshot, allowing you to discuss what you've learned as you eat, and make plans for how to reach Buzzards' Ford.

As Nera zips around the tavern, she makes a few discrete inquiries from those people who seem to know something or other about the hunters outside. She isn't able to gather much new information: The scullery maid says they're hunters, the dish boy says they go to the swamp a lot. A quiet Half-Catfolk sitting on a stool notes that hunting the swamp is illegal, which makes this group poachers under baronial law. Their gear indicates that they're on their way to a hunt today.

Once Nera's back, "Well we aren't getting the job done here thinking so what say we get on the road, if we need more information to make a decision we'll need to go out and get it I fathom."

After breakfast, you load up the cart and lead the horses south along the road from Cailn Crossroads. There's a moderate amount of traffic, presumably folks headed south to Tamalir or north to Nornholt. You keep an eye out for footpaths toward the swamp, and before long, you think you spot one—and the hunters from the tavern are taking it on their own mounts, perhaps a half hour ahead of you. There's not really anything you could call a trail, just some trampled grass and wildflowers betraying infrequent passage this way.

Not wanting to confront the poachers, you return to the main road south toward the Flametail River and Tamalir. Pushing southward throughout the day, you start to see the trees of the Blackwing Swamp before you toward the right side of the road. As night falls, the edges of the swamp loom off to the west. Thinking a nocturnal jaunt through the marshland a bad idea, you make camp and prepare to try your luck at daybreak.The next morning, you take the cart off road through the meadow that stretches between swamp and road. The ground gets softer as you approach the swamp, eventually becoming a thick muck as the trees become denser. Fearing the cart might get stuck, you leave it back a pace as you tentatively step into the shelter of the trees.

The previous night gave you the chance to put your heads together to recall what you could about Lizardfolk. Hildar's book learning comes in handy, as always, but a couple of other members of the group recall a couple more salient facts or correct mistaken notions that get raised.

1. Historians believe the Lizardfolk were once the dominant race of the world, with continent-spanning empires. However, their nations crumbled in times now mostly forgotten.

2. On the continent of Terrinoth, Lizardfolk are largely extinct. Pockets of them still persist in places like the Blackwing Swamp, where they tend to avoid contact with outsiders.

3. They live largely as nomadic hunter–gatherers, capturing game in traps, taking down bigger animals in organized hunts, and fishing.

4. They are suspicious of outsiders (and usually meet strangers with violence), but they have been known to trade swamp products (such as meat) for crafted goods from the cities (including alcohol, medical supplies, or items made from steel, glass, and other materials unavailable in raw form).

5. They are cold-blooded, and therefore vulnerable to cold.

6. Their tribes are led by a chief, with spiritual life led by a shaman. Other tribe members fight, scout, hunt, and gather as needs demand.

7. Lizardfolk lay eggs in broods that take several weeks to hatch. They are especially dangerous if their eggs are in danger.

8. They have had little contact with Catfolk or Orcs, so they are likely to be more open to dealing with them than with Humans, Elves, Dwarves, or Gnomes.

Nera takes the lead on trying to find signs of Lizardfolk activity. Using the knowledge Hildar and others were able to provide, she looks to the shallow waters for evidence of nets or other traps. Sure enough, she finds what appears to be a net trap in a shallow puddle of muck, tied to a system of pulleys in a tree above. There's evidence in the reeds that a large, humanoid creature (or more than one) may have moved through the area fairly recently; the trail leads toward a copse of trees nearby.

Nera bounds up to a low-hanging branch and skitters through the trees with grace. Her new armor proves remarkably breathable as she gets further into the swamp; in anything else, her fur would certainly have been matted and damp by now. The armor is also pleasantly flexible, its leather scales sliding off one another in total silence.Following the path through the reeds, the Catfolk reaches a patch of deeper water with muddy grasses on its banks. Someone has stuck sharpened, wooden stakes into the soil, jabbing the pointy ends through humanoid skulls. It certainly seems like a message: GO AWAY. Nevertheless, Nera knows she needs to see who might be hiding behind the stakes. She slinks over to another tree and sees the person—thing?—responsible. It looks like a green-scaled lizard, all right, but it stands on its hindlimbs and wears dried frog skins for armor. The goggle-eyed creature seems to be checking a fish trap, as water runs through a reed box the thing is pulling from the depths.

The lizard seems to curse in a sibilant tongue, pulling out some sort of fish that seems to be a disappointment. But rather than throw it back into the water, the lizard-thing tosses it to the side, where it is snapped up by two ravenous creatures that look like a cross between a bat and a wolf, maybe? They devour the strange fish, while the lizardman testily yanks the fish head back away from them, throws it into the trap, and sinks it back into the muck. Nera is left by the impression that these two creatures must be the lizard's hunting companions, or maybe even pets.Back at the entrance to the swamp—where the land starts to get muddy—Nekurr finds that the ground becomes quite impassable for the horses or the cart. Moving the crate of wine will have to be done the old-fashioned way: With at least two of you carrying it in your arms or on your backs. That is, unless you build a sledge, or a more arcane solution can be found.

Nekurr's prayer seems to go unanswered. Even worse, he seems to have spooked one of the horses, which gives the Half-Catfolk a painful bite on the shoulder! If the animals are going to be brought into the swamp, it's going to take another approach. Or they could just be hidden somehow.