The Remnants, though grateful for the help, also seemed eager to send their guests on their way. Perhaps it was because those escorting the party to the outskirts of their village clearly would have preferred to be picking through the newly-safe debris pile. By the time they got back, all the good stuff would be claimed.

As they descended the Slope, many breathed the freshest air of their lives. Inside the Caldera it was of course always sulfury and steamy. The great clouds of steam often blew out over the Slopes, which stank besides because of the refuse deposited there. Only at the very furthest reaches of Coglinton's conurbation was the air relatively clear.

Thanks to the clarity, the party saw from a distance what must surely be the bone pile marked on their map. It was in fact the skeletal remnants of a dragon, bones bleached white by the sporadic sun. Parts of the skeleton maintained their structure, though most had since collapsed into what really could best be described as a bone pile.

This was not Skakatoa, the ancient red dragon who had ruled over what was now Coglinton, but more likely one of his minions. Still, it was a remarkable site. For all the residents of Coglinton heard of dragons, few would have seen the remains of one, save for a single skeleton which hung in the atrium of Crock Cognelius's great library.

Just beyond and slightly above the pile of bones on the party's map, a small X was carved into the wood. It was difficult to tell, as the map was crude and not at all to scale, but the only thing of any note in the direction of the X was a stand of trees some few hundred yards distant. Trees, too, were a rare site for those who lived in the center of Coglinton, where sun was hard to come by.

Reminder there remains one additional point of interest on your map aside from these:

"Further beyond that, a collection of triangles stood in a circular formation. This, too, was not a landmark known to any in the party, which was strange, because it seemed like something that would have been distinctive."

Baern's spirits had lifted considerably since leaving the trash heap that the Remnants called a 'village' behind. Standing on a rise to survey the downward slope, he elbowed Vecaal in the knee and nodded at the dragon's remains.

"Bloody great turkey vulture, hey? Hey? Ah, you're no fun," he said with a shake of his head.

He looked down at the map, and then back up at the terrain.

"If I weren't much good at drawing trees, I wonder if I might scratch out a bunch of triangles," he mused. "Either way, looks like we're headed in that direction."

While still bothered by his compromised clothing situation, Frack followed the others in search of the bone pile and the luminous aluminum. He also took a moment to call on Tyr's support to ease the sting in his leg.

When they finally arrived at the bonepile, Frack's jaw hung agape at the sight. Having never seen a dragon before, its enormity struck the goblin profoundly. He tried to imagine it in flesh and blood. Actually flying. Then he wondered if it was as grumpy in life as Vecaal was. If so, that would've been a terrifying adversary.

OOC: Frack will lay on hands to restore another 10hp to himself (still 15 more available if anyone else needs a bump).

Procz had spent their rest making some notes in his books. He had had an epiphany regarding some arcane incantations he had practiced. The kobold thought that he could in fact disrupt certain types of spellcasting should there be need. This was really useful research.

Later, when the arrived at the site of the dragon skeleton, Procz was amazed! Half his interest was academic; studying bone-size, possible wing-span and creature age (before its death). Another half of him was in awe, almost thinking about this place as sacred ground. Procz thought perhaps that the worship of dragons was ingrained in his kobold blood.

Unfortunately, his eagerness came somewhat in the way of his analysis as he explored the site, looking for anything of particular interest.

Investigation 11

Vecaal seemed to taste the air more often as they emerged from the miasma that typically surrounded the areas of Coglington.  Rather than thinking of the air as 'clean', he struggled with the lack of taste the uncontaminated atmosphere offered.  It tasted...unnatural.  This had him on edge, his tongue flicking in and out so frequently it seemed the Dragonborn was licking his lips.  "What is wrong with the air?" he finally asked out loud.  "It is like it's missing!"

However deep that concern ran, it immediately disappeared when the bones of the dragon came into view.  Vecaal immediately fell silent and advanced is slow, measured steps that spoke of respect, or perhaps veneration.  When he neared the bleached bones straining up from the ground like timbers of a long-gone forest, he reached out a hand and gently touched the pitted surface while closing his eyes.  He stood that way for half a minute, until Baern nudged him in the knee and then needled him with a joke.  "Show some respect," was all Vecaal offered back, too wrapped up in the moment to be truly angry at the impropriety.

"To think of you soaring above, ruling over a proper kingdom," he breathed to vision in his mind's eye, not a sparse skeleton but a fearsome creature of flesh and blood.  "Fear not, for the past is not forgotten."

Vecaal poked around while Procz was doing his cataloging, and when thoughts turned back to the map he could only agree with Baern.  "I'm not sure the triangles are the trees, but the spot on the map lies in that direction.  That seems to be the way, as you say."

OOC:
21:58, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 20 using 1d20+6.  Investigation.   Looking for a good souvenir from the dragon bones.

The main thing Procz could determine was that they were far from the first to discover this site. If there were anything of value here, it was long ago taken by scavengers and/or the elements.

Vecaal begged to differ. Several sharp teeth as long as the dragonborn's finger remained in the creature's once-mighty jaws. Time (and perhaps the creature's breath) had yellowed them but could not dull their magnificence.

Vecaal, if you'd like to attempt to remove a tooth, please make either an Athletics of Sleight of Hand check, depending on whether you will attempt to yank it out or wiggle it free.

"While I would have liked longer to really study these bones, I realize we don't have the luxury of time. My particular field of arcane study lets me manipulate fractions of seconds rather than days or hours." Procz shrugged.

"Although dreadfully interesting, a preliminary survey has revealed nothing new about these bones. I'm ready continue." He looked in the direction of the trees. Dendrological studies were also quite interesting, rare as such growths were in this region.

One of the dagger-like teeth caught Vecaal's fancy, the way the curve hooked gracefully back to a fine point held an appeal for the Dragonborn.  After a moment of examination he reached up and started to jiggle the tooth back and forth, trying to loosen the root sufficiently to free up the treasured keepsake.

OOC:
Total 17 to free up a tooth.
20:21, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 6 using 1d8.  Psi bolster die.
20:19, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 11 using 1d20+6.  Sleight of Hand.  <-- adjusted from die roller after I rolled the wrong skill.  Kept roll (5), added proper modifier.

The tooth stuck at first - a few hundred years will do that - but Vecaal resisted the urge to force it free. Instead, he focused on his ancestral connection to the great beast and sensed how it might come loose. Which indeed it did, a worn but unbroken dagger of an incisor, still white where the bone of the jaw had sheltered it from the elements.

Vecaal, when rolling damage for your breath weapon, you'll now roll with advantage.

Frack watched with keen interest as Vecaal carefully removed the skeletal incisor. "He can be surprisingly gentle when he has to," he pointed out to the others. "But I wonder what he would've done if that big old tooth broke." The thought made him cringe, and he was happy he didn't have to find out.

"So what now? Are we going to those trees? I've never been in a forest before." He gulped audibly. "My uncle told me some trees are goblin-eaters. Is that true?"

OOC: Well done, Vecaal!

Baern shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Don't know much from trees," the deep gnome admitted. "Weren't none but susser trees in the deep caverns, and I hardly feel that's a fair comparison. Mushrooms though - some of those would eat a goblin. Not quickly mind. Kind of a slow, gooey, tor..." Baern caught sight of Frack's horrified expression and had the decency to trail off.

"This way. Come on."

Baern started towards the distant copse at a ground eating pace.

Frack's face paled to a sickly gray-green. He gulped, then opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Thankfully for him, Baern changed the subject. Frack adjusted his helmet and followed, somewhat dazed by the thought of being digested by a giant mushroom.

Kreo watched the others consider the map and shook his head, chuckling. He couldn't read the thing worth a damn, it was good to have companions who could decipher it

"Before we go, Sir Frack, Baern, Vecaal, may I bless you a moment? I think we've need of some fortitude in the battles to come and you three are always our most stalwart in the fight"


Touching his shield, a glowing radiance overtook the three named individuals for a moment and invested them with the strength of the worker

OOC: extended Aid at 3rd, for the next 16 hours your hp maximum is increased by 10 points

Vecaal stood staring at the curved incisor in his hand for a few moments before suddenly punching his fist skyward and arching his back to let out a triumphant roar, the likes of which none of his companions had ever heard from the dragonborn.  Then he padded over to his companions, the recovered tooth stashed away in a secret pouch or pocket already.

He didn't quite catch the whole mushroom conversation, but it was clear he shared Frack's revulsion coupled with a small confusion as to why one would not simply take one step away from the fungus and thus solve the problem.  Those who lived their lives beneath the ground were a strange folk indeed.

"I'm willing to try," Vecaal rumbled when Kreo offered a blessing.  He had never participated in any of the organized religions and found most to be lambskin covers for organizations that wolfishly wanted power, just like everyone else.  But he knew there was true power in the divine, that he had witnessed enough times with his own eyes to believe.  So if the Worker deemed him worthy, Vecaal was not above accepting the benefits.

"Thank you, Kreo."

Still mortified at the thought of a goblin-eating mushroom, Frack accepted Kreo's generous offer with a stutter. "Th- thank you, Kreo. Thank you very mush. I mean much." He wiped a bead of sweat from his face. "Thank you. Much."

Baern led the way to the stand of trees which appeared to be represented by the X on the map. Still awed by the sight of the skeletal dragon, and with the setting sun in their eyes, they did not see the figures lying in wait there until the twang of crossbows and, a moment later, the bolts that lodged in Kreo's thigh and abdomen, announced the presence of danger.

"Stay where you are!" a voice shouted from the trees. "Who the hell are you? What are you doing here?"

Kreo, that's a crit for 9 damage and, if 18 hits, another hit for 7 damage. If anyone has reactions, we can adjust as needed.

The party is about 80' from the trees and the attackers concealed therein.
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:22, Mon 06 May.

"You bloody idiot!" Baern shouted back at the disembodied voice in outrage. "Shoot first and ask questions later is an idiom! It ain't meant to be taken literally! Who you gonna ask if you've done shot them!?!"

"Bunch of trigger-happy amateurs..."

Baern folded his arms in disgust.

"We just came from the city! The Dragonfather sent us. Said you needed more muscle."

With Baern attempting a ruse, hopefully preventing further attacks, Procz attempted to spot the figures and get a bearing on their numbers.

Frack had been sulking to himself on the way to the forest, still contemplating the gruesomeness of being digested by a giant mushroom. The bolt in Kreo's leg, however, snapped him out of his trance. He rushed to the aid of his companion scanning the shadows for a crossbowman and at the same time readying a healing incantation.

Bearn surprised Frack with his bold scolding of their assailants, but he was confused by the gnome's reference to the dragonfather."Uhh, I think Baern may have things a little confused," he murmured to Kreo. "Weren't we sent here by Baz Cinderhorn? He's not the dragonfather. That's the man who ended up eaten by the clockwork dragon. Wait a second. Baz isn't the new dragonfather, is he?"

Cast cure wounds on Kreo for a whopping 4 points of healing.
22:57, Yesterday: Frack rolled 4 using 1d8+3.  Heal Kreo.
23:07, Today: Frack rolled 8 using 1d20-1.  Perception.

This message was last edited by the player at 04:10, Wed 08 May.

Vecaal hissed when the sniper's shots struck Kreo, annoyed at the insolence of the unprovoked attack and at his own inattentiveness.  Crouching slightly, he moved to try and shield Kreo and Frack with his bulk and angrily scanned for any signs of the archers' locations.

OOC:
15:20, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 28 using 1d20+8.  Perception.

"Dragonfather sent you?" A heavyset human man emerged from the trees, carrying his crossbow awkwardly, seemingly unsure what to do with it when not pointing it at someone. It was all the more awkward because he was angry, purple in the face and gesticulating wildly with the weapon. To everyone's horror, the crossbow he was swinging with abandon had another bolt locked and loaded. The angry man seemed oblivious to the danger.

"Where the hells is he? He was supposed to be here himself, and he was supposed to be here ages ago. We damn near left. We don't need backup, we need the bloody frontup! There's supposed to be a bloody dragon!"

Frack: Those crossbows didn't fire themselves. There are people in the trees!
Procz: Only two bolts hit Kreo, but quite a few more were fired.
Vecaal: You make out eleven figures lurking in the trees. They don't look like grizzled veterans, and judging by the fact that only two of their shots hit, you conclude they are probably not experienced fighters like the Cultivated Mind or the Iron Resolve. You also conclude that they all aimed for Kreo in particular, though you don't have any insight into why that would be.
Kreo: You have no idea who these people are or why they would be targeting you.

"Yeah, well the dragon's broken, innit? And the orc lady is in the wind, so ain't no one can fix it at the moment."

Both of these statements were technically true. Baern simply hoped the human didn't require more specifics.

"So you get us."

"Buck up, guv. Could be worse. Could be you get nuffin' and nobody. So instead of griping about things we don't have a say in, why don't you put us to work? That is, if you're about done trying to turn my mate here into a pincushion."

With a brief touch of concentration, Vecaal sent his voice into the heads of most of his companions through the Whispers.  [I count eleven in the trees.  By their stance and their accuracy, none look very skilled.  Don't know why they hate Kreo so much though.]

[See if you can get them to open up about the next step, Baern.  Dragonfather's been delayed.  What's the dragon needed for, anyway?]

Satisfied he understood the threat of these would-be ambushers, Vecaal straightened up to his full height, even puffing his chest out slightly.  Let these dragon-worshipping cultists soak up one with actual blood in his veins, rather than oil and grease.  Maybe that would bolster Baern's confident words with those hidden amongst the trees.

OOC:
Establish Whispers with Baern, Kreo and Procz.  Connection Lasts up to 5 hours. Sorry Frack, 3 is my current maximum and your helmet blocks my transmissions (er..or something like that.  Yah, the helmet...). :)
10:15, Today: Vecaal Alifras rolled 5 using 1d8.  Whispers duration.

Frack wasn't the smartest fellow in most of his encounters, but it didn't take Sprazzle Cognelius to realize a purple faced man waving around a loaded crossbow like that was a danger to everyone. He readied his shield just in case he fired it.

"Would've known who you were if you had the bloody dragon with you," the man murmured. His words were belligerent, but his tone was chagrined. To the evident relief of even his own companions, he stopped waving the loaded crossbow around.

Ten more figured emerged from the trees, an assortment of elves, humans, and gnomes plus a halfling, a kobold, and a firbolg.

"What's the plan, then?" the fat man asked, sounding exceedingly put upon. "How are we supposed to find the pyramids or whatever they are without eyes in the sky?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:29, Sat 11 May.

Kreo nodded to Frack as the paladin healed him, pulling the quarrel out with a wince and letting the magic do the rest

He fixed the last man to have spoken, the fat man, with a rogueish grin even as he winced

"Is it not said the people of these streets can make do with anything, can overcome any hardship? Why, you even almost slew me . . . do I know you perhaps? Surely I've not offended you in some way?"

OOC: Persuasion of 20

Frack adjusted his helmet defiantly when Kreo spoke, planning to add a yeah, why you shooting at him?, before deciding to stay quiet. He remembered the words of his mentor, Rom Redshield: Sometimes the best words are the ones unsaid. He had said this a lot to Frack when he was alive, so the goblin figured it must be very wise advice indeed.

The man looked first confused, then irritated. He seemed to be a man who moved quickly from the former to the latter.

"You're that mouthy union man, aren't you? Wouldn't have thought to see you working with The Descendants. But then I guess you wouldn't have expected it of me, either."

His face grew a bit less purple as he spoke, as if he were talking himself down from the temper he'd worked himself into.

Kreo, you still do not recognize this man, though he seems to expect you would. From the way he's talking about the unions and the fact that he recognizes you, you believe you at least know his type. He's probably one of Crock Cognelius's middle-aged middle managers, a man who devoted his life to serving the gnomish industrialist and had hoped to be higher up in the organization than he is at this point in his career. Such men are often disgruntled, which the workers attribute to the recognition that he's reached his nadir and decided the sacrifices were not worth it. Unfortunately, such men rarely have the self-awareness to acknowledge this and so often take their frustrations out on those beneath them.

As a reminder, the Dragonfather, Klaus Jacop was also one of Crock's managers, albeit a more successful one in charge of an entire factory.

"We have some notions on how to pinpoint their location without the aid of the mechanical dragon." Said Procz, which wasn't entirely untrue. "We have some arcane resources at our disposal." His telekinetic powers made a small piece of rock float up from his hand. `

"First, I would like you to inform us about what you have been told regarding the pyramids. We wouldn't want to have to explain something we all already know. Furthermore, we might need a lot of manpower to complete the recovery. How many men have you got here?"

Baern nodded in wordless acknowledgement of Vecaal's suggestion but before he could give voice to the dragonborn's concerns the middle manager supplied an answer all on his own.



So that was why they needed the dragon...

"The plan," Baern said decisively. "Is lunch. We've been marching all morning, and my dogs are barking."

"We can talk shop with some food in our bellies. Am I right, big fella?" he said with a throw away to the firbolg.

Frack continued to heed the wise words of his former mentor, keeping silent while the others discussed plans. He admitted to himself that lunch sounded like good idea and hoped the fat man would agree.

"Something fresh, I hope!" Vecaal snapped, following up with a toothy grin.  "But back in the trees.  A shady picnic, yes?"

And out of sight from prying eyes.  There they could glean all they could from these henchmen, with questions like Procz and Baern had asked.  Then decide how to use them properly.

The big dragonborn waited for Baern to start walking before he moved to follow, trusting his companion to gauge the crowd appropriately.

"Lunch?! You were supposed to be here ages ago. We nearly left. And now you want to stop for a snack? Absolutely not."

"I dunno, boss," the firbolg chimed in. "I could go for a-"

"Shut up, Luven!" the large man snapped. "The little man's wise to the Athenaeum now. Only a matter of time until he sends his own people out here to investigate. You want to be around for that? No, I didn't think so."

He turned his ire - and his crossbow - back to the new arrivals. "It happens now. Let's go."

He began walking. The others with him followed, a few shrugging or casting apologetic glances at those they misunderstood to be their reinforcements.

Frack was still standing next to Kreo when the fat man went off on his second tirade. He wrinkled his nose in honest disappointment, looking first to the satyr and then to Procz for clarification. "I guess that means no lunch?"

Baern shrugged his shoulders. "Guess not," he said to Frack.

At least they were moving in the right direction though...

With a sigh that settled into a habitual scowl, Vecaal fell in with the others to see where the angry little manager would take them.

The Slopes were not deserted even at this low altitude. Such was the wealth of Coglinton that even after being diverted by so many hands as it flowed down the dormant volcano, enough of a trickle remained for folks to scrape by in the hinterlands. Gone were the lean-tos of The Remnants, for out here, there was nothing to lean on and precious little to salvage. Such homes as there were seemed to be either dug into hills or formed by rolling great boulders against one another and balancing flatter rocks atop them as rooves.

Rocks of all shapes and sizes were the one thing in abundance here. Presumably, the volcanic eruptions of a bygone age had abandoned them here, where they waited for some enterprising hermit to make use of them. The only question was how they'd managed to maneuver the boulders into place, for some seemed far too large for even the strongest humanoid to drag, let alone lift.

"Well?" The irritable manager, his crossbow thankfully holstered, looked to Baern. "Where is it?"

Procz thought hard. He spoke to his companions using the previously activated telepahty and used one of his own spells to include Frack in the conversation. At least his friend could hear and respond to his words, if not the others.

Casting Message.

"I have a theory on where it is, or at least how to find it, although I may be wrong. But we cannot lead these people to it. We must be rid of them."

How far have we moved from the trees? How many have stayed behind there, and how many have accompanied us here?

So let’s lead ‘em on a merry goose chase, and lose them on the slopes, Baern suggested while outwardly stifling a yawn.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 01:09, Today.

[Be hard to lose eleven,] Vecaal silently opined.  [But I've got no strategy to send them off peacefully.  Scatter them out searching and try to slip off while we do that, maybe?  Slaughtering the bunch seems wasteful, although they could do with one less manager.]. A seemingly unbidden chuckled hissed out of the Dragonborn's mouth.

[What's the theory on the triangles, Procz?]

Vecaal stood tall, displaying his bulk in the most obvious manner he could.  He didn't want these idiot cultists to think they could push Baern around just 'cause he was a little on the short side.