As the strange creature is put out of its misery, Dian's brain is already thinking about the mercantile opportunities that might present themselves - after all if nature provides you with lemons, the only intelligent response is to exploit those lemons in a profitable, lemon-based enterprise of some sort. Dian shakes her head - this is no time for lemons after all. But that creature was not natural, and may well be worth something. Dian approaches the corpse, examines it and calls out.
"I wonder if the creature has anything of value - would the pelt, or the teeth, or the claws sell once we get back to market do you think? And we should consider the Kapoks as well - they may be harvestable for something - anyone know about the trees?"
****
As the group move past and through the Kapok grove, and into unexplored territory, Lomi's desire to scout alone is clear, but time is precious. Speaking to the partners, Dian suggests a compromise.
"Why don't we push on into the northern jungle ourselves, but send Lomi to scout parallel with us? That way we make progress, but if there is danger or opportunity close by, we can divert as needed."
Dian indicates o a crude map sketched in the earth with a kapok branch that the main caravan heads north and slightly west, while Lomi scouts north and slightly east, circling back to meet the main group as she's able.
The bizarre mixing of colorations on the Tigrilla's pelt could fetch a fair price, as far as trade goods go. Moreover, since little of the damage was slashing (and what was slashing was from small or tiny sources) the pelt is mostly in tact. On the flip side, no one in the caravan is particularly experienced with tanning and preparing hides; the value of the pelt would deteriorate significantly if it isn't preserved properly and begins to rot. Your guess is at peak condition, the pelt would sell for 59 gold pieces.
Kapok trees fruit yearly with pods that produce a cottony fiber, but the tree does not currently seem to be in season. Also, harvesting these cotton pods is notoriously labor intensive.
You can't quite recall, but you think you remember seeing cotton for sale in local markets quite cheap, selling for only 2 gold pieces per square yard of fabric.
Last edited by Schniderman; Aug 21st, 2014 at 05:20 PM.
"Well considering that we are in the middle of the jungle with limited supplies and our objective for this little excursion is a secret temple somewhere, my take is that the juice is not worth the squeeze." Issac says as he listens to Dianne's suggestion. "One, I don't we have the time or the expertise presently to skin an properly preserve the pelt an even still I don't think it will fetch us the price that would make it worth the trouble."
"As for Lomi, I say we stay together. Linking up between two moving elements is difficult to do and especially in the environment that we are in. Hate to lose good talent."
OOC: Sorry for the pause, but competing requirements have me tied up somewhat, but catching up slowly... at least until the next surge.
__________________
Posting Status: On Hiatus... again. Gomen. "The only way to do the impossible is to believe that they are possible."
Syritu nods in agreement with Issac's response about skinning it and says, "In my tribe we would usually strip its teeth and claws for decoration..and maybe sharpen it into a spearhead, but we have little time for these luxuries right now." As they head further deeper into the jungle and Diann're brings up sending the scout in parallel she replies, "The Sir is right Diann're... there are things, dreadful things in this jungle that would strip you of your life before you could call for help. We should just push on together as he said."
Allowing the others to come to their own conclusions, Marcello sat up on a nearby tree branch, cleaning his blade. Occasionally he glanced around for movement, but for now he was preoccupied with his own thoughts to keep watch. He was thinking of the old man, of course.
He hadn't known Rani for very long, but in the time he had known him, it had seemed that he had known Marc better than anybody could. Rani had understood him. Had sympathized with his spirit of adventure. Marcello regretted that he hadn't been able to say anything back when the man had died. He'd been too overcome with emotion. Trying to speak had been like trying to breathe in a vacuum. There'd been an intense pain in his throat. He'd looked away into the forest so that no one could see his eyes watering. Eventually he'd just walked away, unable to take it any more.
Thank you, old man. Thank you for giving me this opportunity. We'll find your treasure and make you proud. I promise.
As the company continues on its northward trail, forgoing scouting in favor of the safety numbers provide, the unnatural air of the Tigrilla's lair is left behind you. The sounds of howling apes and cawing strange birds fills the air, leaving you without a moment of silence. The canopy is thinner here, sunlight sifting in through the branches and leaves and bringing with it a comfortable light and warmth.
Throughout the hours of trekking the porters chat amidst themselves of the day's earlier excitement, finding it as gripping a topic as any to while away the long hours of hauling food and other supplies. The focus of the conversation seems to be wild conjecture about how such a creature came into being; with the prevailing theory being by and large inappropriate. Their nattering wears on, and it's clear that Rahdma is growing tired of it.
"For the last time, it does not work that way. A tiger and an ape cannot-" The doctor's thickly accented protests falter on his lips as a the group crests a small hill, the greenery parting enough to see a weathered structure ahead. Made from stone, most of it sits low and squat to the ground. Whether it is a building or some other sort of construction is uncertain. Mosses, vines, and other growth covers its every surface, so that only the barest bit of gray stone shows through. The whole structure spans about twenty feet across, with a raised portion in the middle ten feet across; its highest point seems about ten feet high, and in the raised portion there looks to be a recess or alcove of some sort.
Cheerfully bantering with the good doctor, Dian interrupts his protests. "Quite wrong, doctor, quite wrong. When I was at the Aracnaeum there was a student a couple of years above me - I shall not name names of course - who was the younger son of a faily eminent local noble. Now this "gentleman" was a very great enthusiast of horses. Really very great. Quite loved the animals. His own stallion was a black beast called "Fire" and the young man specifically took advanced transmutation in order to be able to cast magics that would turn him into a mare - and I know for a fact that he spent many nights in the stables with his stallion doing a...wow, what's that?"
Pointing at the low structure, Dian makes a rapid assessment of it, recalling her knowledge of engineering and religious practice to try and identify a possible function or cultural epoch for the thing.
Dian knows that the ancestor worship practiced by the Mwangi in these parts doesn't normally call for dedicated structures for worship. Instead, each household usually keeps two small idols in their huts; one to represent their male dead and one for female dead.
Dian knows that the structure ahead of her is old. Incredibly old. The construction is both extremely ancient and unlike any workmanship Dian has ever seen. You suspect it even predates Ancient Osirion, making the structure more than eight thousand years old.
None of the surrounding vegetation or other natural features are unusual.
Sir Issac Bancroft
Issac looked over the structure in interest. He guessed this is what he came out here on this expedition. To find unexplored place, to go where no man or woman has gone before, and plunder it for its hidden riches... perhaps also to look for little danger and action. The structure did not correspond to any of the religious or local practices that Issac was aware of. Which meant one of two things, that the structure was built by people that were not from around here or it was built way before the current time. Both possibilities seemed plausible.
"Well, the damned place is not going to explore itself and answer our questions with us just standing around and gawking..." Issac sighed. "...so come on lets get this quest on the road."
Dice Knowledge Religion Check:
1d20+6
(19)+6
Total = 25
Dice Knowledge Nature Check:
1d20+6
(7)+6
Total = 13
Dice Knowledge Local:
1d20+6
(7)+6
Total = 13
__________________
Posting Status: On Hiatus... again. Gomen. "The only way to do the impossible is to believe that they are possible."
Gaping, Dian looks long and hard at the structure buried in the jungle.
"That thing is ancient, I mean really ancient. I wonder if it's the temple we're seeking. I can see nothing else notable down there, so let's go and take a look shall we? We should probably get the caravan set up for camp up here - good visibility, defensible raised position. Anyone else coming to explore with Isaac and me?"
Looking over her shoulder, Dian starts down the overgrown slopes towards the building with her notebook in hand, sketching it as they approach.
"Oh my! This place is old..very old. We used to have stories in our village of places like these, where our ancestors climbed out of for the first time to see the sun and moon. Ah. " Syritu gives her spear a quick wipe and polish and says, "I will go with you. It may be interesting to see what lies beneath."
With the company setting up camp after the long day's march, and the company's leaders heading down to investigate the mysterious structure below the rise, normalcy seems to be returning to the West Garund Expeditionary CompanyWGEC. Certainly, compared to this morning people seem to be in higher spirits. Honali and Barwick have set up canteen and stewed up enough potatoes, carrots and jerked meat to feed everyone; Nino's worked out the guard schedule with his boys; and everyone else has more or less settled for the night.
As Diann're, Isaac, Syritu, and Marcello head out, Alkhet drains his bowl of stew and hurries after you all. At a jog, he catches up shortly after you've passed the camp's perimeter. "Aha! I'll come along too, I am curious to see what's down there." He wets his lips and briefly dry washes his hands, a combination of gestures that give the unfortunate semblance of a house fly. At any rate, he seems enthusiastic about the company's most recent find, chuckling and tittering quietly to himself. From what you know of Alkhet, that's not unusual.
You soon reach the clearing and the structure, and you quickly find that it has no doors to speak of, just a flat stone base and a raised monolith in the center. Up close though, you can see that the walls of the monolith are chiseled with pictographs and archaic script, though much of it is covered by moss and lichen.
Upon setting foot on the laid stonework of the base, it feels as though you've pushed through a veil dividing 'within' and 'without'. An instinctive understanding wells up within you that this place is distinct from the world around it. Though this feeling is difficult to put into words, something else is just as strange but far more worldly: the air smells thick with blood, far too thick.
In the course of your adventures you have been no strangers to violence, but a scent such as this would take many dozens of gallons of fresh spilt blood. Despite this, across the whole of the structure there is no stain or sign of blood; only the dark gray of the stone and the vivid green of the encroaching plant life.
The recessed bit of the monolith that you saw from afar houses a low altar, rising to waist height. The center of the altar's surface is inclined and angled back to form a sort of stand, and resting on it is a meticulously carved stone mask. This altar seems to be the only part of the structure that's been spared the relentless intrusion of the jungle's growth.