5. The Wood of Sharp Teeth

The sun has reached its highest point in the sky when the party arrives at their point of entry into the Wood of Sharp Teeth. Up until now the party has largely skirted around the Wood, or taken the maintained roads that cut through it. To find their bandit prey and rescue Aldous, however, they must press deeper.

The companions find a secure place a few dozen feet within the treeline to tie their horses, and then proceed on foot.

The section of the Wood in which the party expects to find the bandit camp is an expanse known as Peldvale, more than twenty square miles of tangled vegetation. It isn't an ancient, magical forest like those in the stories. There aren't many huge, gnarled trees that hint at a bygone age. But what trees there are, are many.

It will take some skilled woodsmanship to make good progress through this forest, as well as to find traces of the bandits that inhabit it.

Let’s be off!

As the group moves deeper into the forest, Runeson finds the surroundings... familiar. He doesn't remember traveling the Wood, but he finds something pressing on his mind, something like a fleeting dream, or movement at the corner of his eye. A sort of subtle mental itch, calling for attention but impossible to scratch for relief. If he focuses on the sensation, he feels a headache begin to build. But he discovers that by keeping his focus on the quiet rhythm of Aiwe's drums, his subconscious takes over and he knows where to go with a sort of confident intuition.

Around this dead oak tree, past that fallen log, up over the next rise... Runeson leads the group forward.

After several hours of hiking, before them appears a sudden drop, several dozen feet, down to a stream of clear, fresh water. And there, on the far side of the stream, are two men wearing the rough-shod attire the party has seen on other bandits. They have longbows over their shoulders, but the men don't seem to be expecting trouble here. Their heads are down, cleaning their hands and faces in the stream and filling their waterskins. They haven't yet noticed the party.

Then, having spied those two men, the group looks beyond them to see what can only be the bandit camp: perhaps twenty tents and makeshift cabins interspersed among a thin copse of trees. All the structures are topped with branches and leaves; no doubt it looks like just more of the tangled Wood from above. Half a dozen wagons in various states of repair can also be seen scattered among the structures, as well as large piles of boxes, crates, and chests. More bandits sort through these piles, separating out valuables and supplies.

Being this close to the camp, the party understands that there must be sentries or patrols out and about. Their current location, about 300 feet from the edge of the camp and overlooking it from their perch above the stream, could be a useful vantage for spying on the camp, but is also risky unless measures are taken to hide the party or discourage searching the area.

Stella's sparrow casually flits into the bandit camp, lighting on branches here and there and having a look at the camp's layout.

It seems the camp is divided nearly in half, with the hobgoblins of the Chill on one side, and the human Blacktalons on the other. Run-of-the-mill bandits move among both sides as they do various jobs, but avoid getting too close to any of their betters.

Easy to pick out on the Blacktalon side is an imposing man in plate armor, a massive maul strapped to his back. As he walks around inspecting his side of the camp, the sparrow hears the other Blacktalons addressing him respectfully as "Taurgosz", or sometimes "Tenhammer". All the Blacktalons appear to look up to him and follow his orders without hesitation.

(History: He earned the nickname "Tenhammer" by once slaying 10 men with one swing of his hammer.)

On the Chill side, the camp is spotless of trash or refuse, and the tents are laid out with painstaking order. All of the hobgoblins wear crisp uniforms and well-maintained equipment. Their leader, Ardenor Crush, is marked by a dozen badges of rank on his cloak. He remains by a small campfire where his mercenaries know where to find him, and issues orders from there. He looks much like what one would expect of a hobgoblin military leader, but there's something in his gaze that speaks of greater wisdom and experience, as though he's already seen everything and survived it all.

All groups avoid the very middle of the camp where the largest tent is. It's easily three times the size of any of the other structures, and there are two guards stationed at its entrance.

There's no sign of prisoners; if there are any, they're out of sight within one of the tents.

Tensions in the camp are made abundantly clear when a small handful of Blacktalons, off duty and drunk, wander into the hobgoblins' side of camp yelling taunts and jeers. Just about the entire camp is drawn to watch the resulting scuffle. Ardenor Crush and Taurgosz glare at each other, daring the other to draw their weapon. The ordeal is broken up when a man of monstrous size and musculature (presumably Tazok himself) storms from the center tent. His words are loud enough for the party to hear:

The crowd quickly disperses, and Tazok fumes back to his tent in the middle of camp.