Episode 1

Previously...note="DMJ"]...
Bryn instinctually reaches for the knife hidden within his reed cot as he is woken from a sound sleep he tries to stifle his anger toward his captors by instead welcoming the chance for something other than waiting in silence. Bryn still wasn't used to these fucking Tcho-Tcho captors yet. He learned plenty hunting and scouting with these little guys, they move at an incredible speed in the wilderness,on more than one occasion he considered nocking a few arrows and taking them out to make a break for it. Bryn knew he wouldn't make it far if he tried, so he always fell in line.

Bryn hastily gathers his things rushes out the door while completing his ritual counting each of his blades "One, two, three, four," he whispers out loud in Dannein as he taps each blade, a routine he started on his first heist job to keep track of his equipment. Bryn grabbed his long bow and quiver as he bolts out of the hut and finds himself madly trying to keep up with his dark-skinned companions.

As the group approaches the fire and Bryn sees a woman toss the shavings into the flames, he can't help but stare and admire her beauty "I'd tap that." he says to himself.[/note]

The ceremony begins.

Two of the Tochoans with face paint and elaborate vine and brush woven crowns bring the sacrifice forward, guiding it along with a simple rope lead hitch. It is a short-legged, bushy grey-haired goat. The animal has a long beard and red eyes that reflect in the torchlight. On its head, thick rough horns that stand straight up high and then arc back slightly near the top.

The torches throw shadows that weave and ebb and flow on the edges of the light. Beyond the torchlight that bathes the scene, there is only darkness. A darkness that hangs all around like a heavy curtain.

The entire scene is framed by the huge statue that looms among the bushes at the back of the assembly. The light dances around on the menacing figure. The monstrous statue towers 8 feet high and is wide in girth. The tusks, wings, belly, ears, and grotesque mouthed tentacle bulge out in an infected swell, as if a fleshy sore bursting out of the foliage and from the darkness itself. Chaugnar Faugn is a hideous god.

It seems fitting perhaps that such an appalling idol would demand a goat to be split open before it.



When the ceremony leaders unsheathe the long swooping ceremonial blades, two helpers loop long-handled poles with rope nooses around the goat's neck to hold it steady. As one of the blades-men makes a long arcing slice downward, the other cuts the neck below with the upward curving pole blade. The specialized tools are exceptionally sharp. The goat is beheaded in one fluid motion of the opposing two strokes, as if a giant pair of scissors had just slid closed to make a perfect cut and detachment.

Right when the torso falls over, other ceremonial attendants work with thin sharp knives to split the animal open down the center line of its belly. In short time, Chim Nolp drags the entrails out of the body cavity and casts them onto the large concave stone bowl circle built into the ground just in front of the slaying stone.

Everyone in the crowd falls silent as the little old man crouches over the bloody pile of organs now strewn all over-top of the runic carvings in the large sunken stone bowl.

Nolp reaches down and pulls through the tubes and globs of the entrails, smearing some of them up to the side and casting a careful hand over others. He stares intently at the bloody mass - studying, discerning.

The silence and stillness hovers for long moments. Chaugnar Faugn towers overhead. The statue appears to brood in judgement.

Finally the little brown old man stands up. He first bows to the terrible idol and then turns around to the crowd. He raises his bloody hands up, open to the sky.

"Um cipac cutl pac nachil," says the old priest simply. "Nachil."

The crowd of Tochoans pump their spears, javelins, and knives into the air, letting out yips and calls. They clatter their weapons one to another making a rattle in the woods.
"Nachil! Nachil!"

Kray understands the words. "A Time to Clash. Clash."

The Tochoan god approves. It is a time for the Tochoans to clash, not a time to hide.
The Tcho-Tchos will help the team infliltrate the Black Ziggurat. They want the King In The Box slain, so that perhaps the tyrant Glaaki might fail.

Maybe Sorcha Rhone is within reach.

Quick Summary of last hour or so:

Rutcranna spoke with Tochoan leadership, asked them to help the team find a prison camp where some Bat Hannoc's are being held, mostly women and girls. Tochoan's are skeptical, mostly an evasive culture, but they cannot deny the threat that is growing in Nahrooma. They may consider helping. The group must travel to the altar of Chagnaur Faugn, the god of the Tochoans. They are willing to see what their god says, whether they should hide from this threat or clash against it in resistance.

Rutcranna makes a quick explanation, helps Kray fill in the holes of his translation difficulty.
Chim Nolp is the old priest and soothsayer in the clan. Nolp is his name. Chim is a title that means roughly "wise."
They are talking about the Black Ziggurat.

Once relocated to the idol and sacrifice site of Chagnaur Faugn, Rutcranna leads another interchange with the Tochoans, including more of the leadership. The Tochoan crowd is about 50-60 people.

They talk more about the Black Ziggurat. It is a ruin near hear, a great stone temple like structure that is mostly overgrown by the trees and brush of Goatswood, and partially swallowed by a lake whose water goes right up to the side of it. Being over 4000 years old, the structure is nearly forgotten and close to being invisible. Nonetheless, it is apparently being used in the operations of the Deep Ones and the Glaakieou. It is confirmed that there are some Bat Hannocs within, apparently imprisoned.

The Deep Ones have always dwelt in the lakes and streams of Goatswood, but only in recent last 2 years have they become adversarial and dangerous. The Glaakieou have been in the area now. They came to the Black Ziggurat and sealed a great external door after placing some people inside of the old ruined temple. They have also laid out several of the abomination growths on various trees in the area, some even underwater in the lakes and waterways.

The Tcho-Tcho have been observing and keeping tabs on all of this, but they have tried to stay out of it. Now however, they have suffered several deaths and losses at the hands of the Glaakieou, and the Deep Ones always seem to be lurking about now. To the Tcho-Tcho, they must decide whether to get involved or not.

They must hear the story of Rutcranna and the others, spoken before their god, and then they must get a reading of discernment on what to do by the slaying and disembowing of a sacrifice. The visitors will see the reading, and must know that it is definitive either way.

So there you go...leads right up to the scene above. All the while everyone has had time to hang out and talk. There will be more time for questions and planning now.

The mood is set for going to do some real work: raid the Black Ziggurat and recover Sorcha Rhone, who Rutcranna feels is certainly inside.
Everyone has to get ready to rock. The surviving originally mercenary team has learned from a tough fight. It's time to level up, reset, get oriented with the new allies and team mates, and get ready to act like a real squad, to push through what may be the turning point of the mission.

On the abomination tree flesh network...The abomination flesh network is not a teleportation system. No one blips in out of thin air. But still the Glaakieou (and them only) can power shift jump and "slide" at high speeds, covering much ground per each slide thrust.

The flesh mass are not sentient, though they are alive. They have some ability to react to stimulus and engage with the environment, but not in vision and hearing. They do not have hearing nor sight, but they have some sort of smell, touch, and taste sensory. Exact strength, range of each is largely unknown, but is thought to be related to age and development time (improving as the organism matures and con

The Glaakieou do have sufficient amount of the flesh stations to move around freely on Old Island, but a small bit of good news is that they do not have as many stations in Goatswood. Claim by Rutcranna is that the forest has old hexes that do not allow new powers to easily take root and establish.

The Tcho-Tcho claim to know exactly where all of the abomination fleshes are in all of Goatswood. There are 18 of them. Sounds like a lot, but with the regional size of Goatwood it is actually not sufficient if the goals are to pepper the entire area and move freely throughout. The bad news for the team is that the many of the stations are right around the Black Ziggurat, both above surface and below the water in the adjacent lake and tributaries.

The Tcho-Tcho are willing to get involved with the elimination of the tree flesh stations, as best as that task might be attempted anyway. Rutcranna and the Tcho-Tcho also believe that disrupting that system will be key to degrading performance and mobility of the Glaakieou, but as you have also predicted as well, there are concerns with detection at the very moment that you decide to meddle with the station. So a plan is definitely being discussed - in sum it is leaning towards the idea of staging Tcho-Tcho tree flesh assassination squads at all of (or as many as possible of) the tree flesh stations, waiting until the last minute of infiltration, and then coordinating an overall shutdown to the whole system, or maximum part of it.

At some point detection has to be tolerated if detection will happen anyway, and at that time it is best to shut down mobility and freedom of advanced/super natural movement and transport. If the mobility system is fully intact when the word gets out that there is an attack, it could be devastating because a potentially Quick Reaction Force (QRF) could likely be inserted into the general region, if not the exact location, in a very short time.

Rutcranna is working with the Tcho-Tchos to brew a fluid liquid agent that acts immediately as a system degradation and retardant to the physiology of the flesh trees, and then over the longer span (around an hour) it kills them, all without activating their stimulus automated defense capabilities (death gas, tentacle strikes).

The Pressing Time Factor, and the requirement to begin rolling prep for execution immediately....

The backdrop of all of this is that there is no time for an extended recon session, trial runs, sandbox model, and troubleshooting sessions. Though everyone would like that, the key that must be capitalized on the most is the deception right now that there is an expected attack at Nahrooma.

On that, the Tcho-Tcho can confirm that many of the Deep Ones were seen moving out from Goatswood and heading south, starting this past afternoon before nightfall.

You guys have moved north, apparently undetected so far, but there is likely a short limit on time before the ruse on position and flank is exposed one way or another.

There is a general imperative that whatever strike that is to be done, must be initiated within the next few hours. The idea is to stage up just before dawn, when the night is the darkest, and coordinate all actions somehow related to the rising of the sun.

The wheels are already getting greased up. The Tcho-Tchos are about to send interference squads out to get ready to sabotage the network. Others will stay with your team to guide you up to the ziggurat and help on the infil. Others will be staging up as security to try to delay or at least warn of any QRF incoming. Some are going to try to stay ready for extraction and assistance on escape.

Still more to talk about, but that is the baseline direction that things are moving towards.

Previously...note="Constablebrew"]...
Maeriks successfully completed the delivery of the gift to the Tcho-Tcho friends. The knife and flint were pocketed by a nearby Tcho named Paucotl.

Any time during the next Moon Cycle (1 month) he can choose to reroll one Attack Roll, Saving Throw, or Ability Check.

The announcement to use this Tcho-Tcho Luck can be made after the number of the roll is seen, but before the results of this original roll are provided, confirmed, or explained.

Furthermore, the reroll attempt is made at Advantage![/note]

The Norach of Hannoc

As learned previously, the chief of the Bat Hannoc Clan is called the Norach of Hannoc, or simply the Norach. The Norach holds the Locust Spear, the symbol of leadership and authority.

Rutcranna confirms that Norach Onchu was defeated last fall at the overwhelming assault on Driftwood, when the Glaakieou and the Deep Ones (fka The Neighbors) crushed the last bit of resistance that might stand against them within the clan. Onchu was beaten to within an inch of his life and then taken away as prisoner to Nahrooma.

According to Fingol, his nephew, the mighty Gorolach son of Daolach, defeated Onchu in single combat before the Clan, slew him, and claimed the Locust Spear to become the Norach.

Rutcranna of course rejects the validity of this. She believes Onchu was likely killed by Glaaki or the Glaakieou, and even if Gorolach did fight him, Onchu was severely injured almost unto death. The duel then would have been illegitimate. Plus she rejects that the Clan was present to witness the fall and transition of the Norach. The only people who could have possibly been there would have been the Glaakieou (no longer Bat Hannocs but instead monsters), Fingol himself (a traitor to his people), and perhaps some female and children captives who had recently been enslaved.

To Rutcranna, the Bat Hannoc Clan is broken and gone. There is no Norach. The Locust Spear has been captured by enemies.
There is no more tribe but only a dispersed remnant.

That being said, it had always been a big deal for Fingol that Gorolach had the rightful authority as clan leader. As a gift from "The Collective" as Fingol called it, Norach was given an ancient sceptor from the treasures of Nahrooma. It was a symbol of Gorolach's authority and rulership in this day, but it also hearkened back to the ancient Kingdom of Uisdea.

Gorolach, Fingol claimed to Rutcranna, was becoming a King in the tradition of the ancients. He would become empowered in the glory and secrets of the Uisde Wizard Kings, and he would rule at Glaaki's side in a new Kingdom of strength, superior forces, and ancient wisdom.

Absolutely not says Rutcranna, but it does seem that Gorolach Mac Daolach is living within the Black Ziggurat.

The Captives, The King in the Box, and the boldness of Hinka...

The Tcho-Tcho recount the story that during the previous autumn, soon after the slaughter at Driftwood, the Glaakiou came in many boats down the waterways through Goatswood. They were escorted by the Deep Ones who swam along underwater, occasionally breaching the surface to scan the area with their terrible black bulging eyes.

The group had several female prisoners, both women and young girls. All of them were bound and collared like captive slaves. On one of the large wide barge raft was a huge wooden box, that looked recently constructed. It had long poles through it for carrying.

A large muscular Bat Hannoc stood in the front boat, as if the leader of the entire water convoy. He carried the Locust Spear, wore a glamorous gold scepter at his side, and was dressed as a mighty war chief. He was not masked and wrapped as the Glaakieou had then begun to cover themselves, though this champion did carry a large bone helmet, made from the skull of some large long-snouted beast.

The group arrived at the flat plane that now serves as almost a pier to the partially submerged Black Ziggurat. The Champion Leader got off of the boat, and followed the lead of the Deep Ones into the north entrance of the Ziggurat. The women and children prisoners followed, and the strong Glaakieou carried the huge crate inside as well. Apparently even they were severely strained, because of the heavy weight of what was inside the crate. They also carried in bags and bags full of provisions, as well as what appeared to be sacks with large volumes of wool and straw.

After the entire group disappeared into the Ziggurat, a huge stone door slid forward from within the structure. It was a perfect fit as a door and seal; it stopped at the edge of the entrance and has stayed there ever since. The great stone door is immovable, impossible to press open since it is a colossal block with no hand holds or levers and likely weighs double digit tons.

The Tcho-Tcho watched vigilantly. Nothing happened for an entire day. Then the Glaakieou and the Deep Ones emerged from the lake outside of the Ziggurat, apparently exiting from a submerged port that was once at ground level but is now underwater.

The great champion, who the Tcho-Tcho say looked like a King, never emerged. Nor did any of the girls or women.

Since that time, about 3-4 months ago, the Tcho-Tcho have kept full surveillance on the place. They have never again seen any of the humans go in or out. The Glaakieou also have never returned. The Deep Ones, however, swarm around this place normally, lurking in the lake and the nearby forest and hills.

The Deep Ones have also been seen swimming in bags of supplies through the underwater entrance into the Ziggurat. The Tcho-Tcho have spied the Deep Ones bringing in large sacks by boat, wrapped and sealed with sticky oil and pitch, and then taking the supply bags subsurface at the lake, and through the deep water entrance into the Ziggurat.

A brave and clever Tcho-Tcho thief named Hinka, also a daring and capable swimmer, has found the underwater entrance to the Ziggurat. It is a long swim, very deep at the base of the ziggurat at what used to be the ground plane before these lands were flooded. Hinka has even dared to swim down into the underwater hallways, in an attempt to infiltrate the ziggurat and investigate.

The submerged hallways go on and on for a great stretch in complete darkness underwater however. It becomes a distance that is too far for a man to hold his breath underwater. Hinka uses a special technique of underwater navigation known only by the Tcho-Tcho.

Doing this, Hinka says that he believes he knows the route within the hallways that emerges into a great room lit with torchlight. He was almost able to get there on his last try, but he was nearly caught by a Deep One, only escaping with his superb ability to hide and avoid detection, even underwater.

Each of the attempts Hinka has made has almost cost him his life, but he is a famed thief and fearless. His goal is to report to his people the goings-on inside of the Black Ziggurat, but also Hinka has sworn that he will steal the golden sceptor of the King In the Box.

That is the term that the Tcho-Tcho call the great Bat Hannoc champion, apparently Gorolach son of Daolach, who entered the ziggurat as its ruler so many months ago. The King in the Box has women, servants, and apparently many supplies and comforts, yet he remains inside a ruined temple, as if in a box made of ancient stones.

Some of the Tcho-Tcho say that the King in the Box may be eating the bodies of ancient wizards, becoming a wizard himself. Some fear that he will emerge one day with great power and detect all of them in their hiding places, seek them out with magic, and bind them with the lash as slaves.

Hinka, master thief, thinks that the King in the Box is just a fool, a pompous giant hiding in a dank dark hole. A powerful man, but one who is slipping, one who thinks his wealth can never be reached, one who deserves to get his treasure stolen from him.

After the goat sacrifice and the session of discussion and proclamation that followed, the entire group relocates to a nearby Tcho-Tcho wigwam camp. It is a simple settlement, made up of wigwam shelters, lean-to's, hanging racks, cook circles, simple reed benches and platforms, some pens for small farm animals - aboriginie/native American type living - with animal raising, plus a healthy dash of stolen metalworks now fully integrated into the lifestyle.

Several fires burning here and there, including a large fire in a central area, but it is pitch black beyond the fire light. The Goatswood seems to swallow light.

Still in the middle dark hours of the night, everyone is breaking out into work groups preparing all things. Rutcranna takes to work in a large wigwam hut that has cauldrons and fires burning on top of sunken rock pits. She is working alongside of several other Tcho-Tcho females boiling up mass quantities of tree-network poison fluid apparently.

Other Tcho-Tcho are gathering supplies, sharpening and strapping weapons, wrapping rope, packing baskets, and moving around in small groups carrying pots and bags. The Tcho-Tcho work rather quietly, though their low buzzy voices can be heard as they speak steadily to one another in their indecipherable language.

When Maeriks breaks through all of the work and stands ready for action at the main fire, several of the Tcho-Tcho take notice and walk up and look at him. They begin talking back and forth to themselves, continually looking at Maeriks. They must be exchanging ideas about him. As the first few in the crowd talk, they call the attention of a few others and the talking arguing group of Tcho-Tchos grows to about a dozen, all conversing about Maeriks. The big Dannein looks like a giant towering over the little men, casting a huge shadow that covers them as he stands in front of the fire.

Eventually, Pumji, the Tcho-Tcho translator and speaker, emerges from the group and walks up to Maeriks. Accompanying him is Hinka, the Tcho-Tcho thief who told his story at the Altar of Chaugnar Faugn.

Pumji looks up at Maeriks. "You say 'Let's go' ?" he asks.

When Maeriks nods, Pumji looks at Hinka and then back up at Maeriks. "You want practice with krekutil?"

When Maeriks is slow to answer, Pumji holds a questioning look. After an extended pause, Pumji asks another question, "Swim?" He moves his arm in a swimming motion, pantomiming arms strokes of swimming. "You want practice swim?" He says, "With krekutil?" He makes a motion of his hands coming down around his head and then one hand over his face, and then back to the swimming.

Pumji looks back at Hinka. Hinka says something to Pumji. The Pumji back to Maeriks. "Practice to swim with living in the lake. Long swimming in water? Under the water? Long ways? You?" He points to Maeriks shaking his head.

With some understanding now breaking through, Pumji nods at Maeriks. Hinka nods too. "Yes. It is good. You practice. Come. We can teach. Hinka knows krekutil. We go to see the farmer. Practice now so you will have skill." He motions for Maeriks to follow them.

The other Tcho-Tcho in the crowd start muttering to one another. Some excitement can be heard in there voices. They fall in line behind Maeriks, Pumji, and Hinka who are now leading the way towards a small foot trail.

Pumji nods his head at Maeriks assuredly. "Let's go." The Tcho-Tcho spokesman says, in a proud inflection. He gives Maeriks a look of confidence.

One Tcho-Tcho runs up to Pumji and hands him a skin tarp of some sort, muttering some quick message before falling back into the entourage behind. Hinka talks to Pumji, and Pumji listens attentively, as if making sure to understand the words and then confirms to the thinner thief in the affirmative.

Pumji then turns back to Maeriks again, "Bold Hinka asks if you are a thief of fame among the Bat Hannocs." He waits a bit for an answer, and then he hands the tarp to Maeriks. "This is a cover for you."

Maeriks has been handed an extra large Tcho-Tcho style loin cloth, apparently made just this night, with fresh new tie straps.

After Kray leaves, after an apparent serious talk, Rutcranna and Thorn work on making the witch brew tree network neutralizer.

All the while Rutcranna tells Thorn more about Gorolach the Pretender, the King in the Box.
"Gorolach is the nephew of Fingol. He is the son of Fingol's younger brother Daolach. Gorlach has always been an exceptional warrior. He and his crew, Donnchadh, Rigin, Cealwin and the others, they were always a strong squad. They did many raids in the west. And always when they did, they sought to undermine me. Instead of bringing me offerings, they brought them to Fingol. He would expound on their exploits and tell their tales. They would pay homage to him, giving him wealth and prestige and legitimacy as they laid their spoils at his feet for many years."

Rutcranna continues, as she works. "That is why they were the perfect candidates as collaborators. Fingol's skill and potency is very weak indeed. He was always looking for something to augment his strength, to cover his own failings. The Deep Ones and Glaaki were an answer to his prayers. Gorolach, his nephew, was the perfect champion to wield as well. Handsome, potent, strong, and formidable. Gorolach was a prize pony that Fingol could ride, and his loyalty was without question."

"I see that you have claimed an old dagger of Fingol." Rutcranna says to Thorn. " That dagger was a trophy of Gorolach's in his younger days of raiding the Yuoric borderlands. Gorolach, Rigin, Donnchadh, Ludhaigh, and many others were among the most prominent Bat Hannoc raiders for likely a decade. They slew many Yuorics in their youth, bushwhacked many Youric travelers, invaded many Yuoric homes. Much of that treasure is likely still horded with Gorolach now. Fingol himself even sent much of his own gold back, offering it to the pleasure of the new King in the Box. " Rutcranna scoffs at the entire idea.

Rutcrana pushes her work to the side for a bit, and squares off against Thorn, alone in the wigwam now. She begins to show him the stances and tactics of Gorolach, the possessor of the Locust Spear. She tells Thorn of the habits of Gorolach, of his tendency to overextend for the sake of stronger strikes, of his commitment to hitting first, of his cherish of the Locust Spear itself. Thorn comes to learn the ways of mighty Gorolach, even before he faces off against him.