Post
by Anoush » Mon Sep 28, 2020 12:54 am
Bloodbeat’s Journal:
Ever since the recent Pastry Festival on Skyreader Island, the spice trade had been booming. Many of the spices that S’Lyan’s Spices — a t’skrang company dealing in exotic spices —had been trading in for years were now redoubled in demand. Who doesn’t like a dash of sweet F’Riezal in their gooseberry tarts?
But S’Lyan had a problem. The secret sites along the Coil River where he’d been harvesting the raw spices for several seasons were now bare — someone had picked all the buds and then trampled the plants into the ground.
So, S’Lyan was looking for a group of investigators to assist them. He contacted a friend of friend in Throal — namely me, Bloodbeat — to help. I went looking for others to accompany me down to the Coil River to investigate. Lazulin, Mal, Nib and Redsun were all happy to help out.
After a pleasant five days on the road, we reached the shore across from Skyreader Island, where S’Lyan’s business was located. I swam the short distance to the Island, while my friends used the cable car baskets to get there. The cable cars went from the shore to Rabbit Island and from there to SkyReader Island. Very comfortable, but swimming is better.
S’Lyan’s shop was on the village square. It was mostly a workshop, with a counter area at the front for helping customers. Most products were in bins behind the counter, so S’Lyan (or one of his many family members) would take the order and then collect the needed spices from the bins, package it all up, collect payment and hand the package to the customer. In fact, when we arrived S’Lyan himself was helping a young windling boy pick up a package for his family.
Then, S’Lyan turned to us. He welcomed us heartily, very happy to see people who’d help him out of his predicament. We went into the backroom — a kitchen and dining area — to learn more. S’Lyan’s family lived upstairs from the shop conveniently.
S’Lyan told us that about three weeks ago, his community garden plots — two large allotments — had been ruined. All the plants — mostly herbs, some berries — destroyed and ground into the earth. Then over the following week, as he or family members went to various plots to harvest spices, they realized that the spice plants had been ruined, destroyed as well. Not just picked clean, but the plants themselves had been cut and chopped and ground into the soil.
S’Lyan couldn’t think of anyone who’d want to ruin him, either personally or professionally. No one in his family had changed their behavior significantly over the last few months. There were no new close associates who seemed a bit off. Nothing suspicious among family and friends. S’Lyan was now out of stock on some of the products he normally carried. His biggest customers were the local bakeries, the brewery and a couple of cafes. To get more product, he had resorted to buying them wholesale from a spice trader in Lake Ban, and then passing on the higher cost to his customers. Not a good situation.
The first destruction was of the local plots. The most recent — so far as S’Lyan could tell, since they only visited the harvesting grounds periodically — was discovered four days ago and the damage looked very new at the time. Right then, some family members were out harvesting and would be back by supper, so they might have more news. Most of the harvesting areas are on shore, but a couple are in the river itself. No special handling (e.g., for poisonous plants) was needed for the plants he harvested.
Next, we visited the local plots. S’Lyan had given us a diagram of what had been planted where. A good thing, too, as the plots were barren when we saw them. Nearby were some orchard plots. A middle-aged woman was picking pears from a tree there. Nib approached her, and after convincing her he wasn’t going to steal her pears, they had a pleasant chat. The woman assumed the damage had been done by vandals, kids. She reported that one evening she left for home and the plots were fine, but when she arrived early the next morning, they were destroyed. Horrible!
Meanwhile, Redsun was examining S’Lyan’s allotments. He reported that the damage was methodical, not the work of simple vandals or children. In additional to the general destruction, Redsun found evidence of frost damage. We speculated that an adept — perhaps an elementalist — might be among those who destroyed the plants. How very sad that an elementallist, who normally nurtures plants, would destroy them like this. Redsun also found lots of tracks, too many to tell anything more, but they were from a variety of Name-givers, t’skrang, humans and windlings.
S’Lyan’s nearest harvesting plot was about a three hour walk away, so we headed there in the hopes of catching the vandals in action. As we approached the area, among the trees that S’Lyan normally harvested, were about a dozen jub jubs! They were voraciously eating the trees, leaves, buds, and even the bark. A little more effort and the trees would be destroyed, unrecoverable.
As we came nearer, the jub jubs attacked. The terrain was lousy for a fight, with trees blocking sight lines for the arches and spell casters, as well making it harder and slower to get where you needed to be. I followed Lazulin into one thicket of trees, only to discover that he wasn’t fighting a jub jub, oh no, he was fighting a giant crocodile! The croc snapped at me, grabbed me in its jaws and hurt me badly, even giving me a wound. I retreated a bit, but the jub jubs followed. After that, we made short work of them. Then a second crocodile jumped out of the underbrush, this time attacking Mal, grabbing him. Nib and Lazulin raced over to help, and together brought down the croc. We skinned the crocodiles and planned to have sets of crocodile leather boots made for all of us back in Throal.
After the battle, we began recovering with the help of Healing Potions and other aids. In the meantime, we also examined the area more closely. Most of the jub jubs had collars or harnesses on them, common leather ones. We could only conclud that they were owned by someone. The tracks of the jub jubs led back to the river bank. We thought that strange since jub jubs normally preferred marshy areas, not river shores and not solid land. Examining the earth more closely, Redsun noted that there were signs that a boat had moored here, and that the jub jubs had either leaped from the boat to the shore, or used a plank from the boat to the shore. Obviously, the owners of these jub jubs were responsible for the damage to the spice plantings.
We decided to wait there for the vandals. We all found hiding spots and waited. About dawn, a small boat — capable of holding perhaps 10 Name-givers — arrived. But the boat was strangely empty. It pulled up onto shore about where the boat had arrived to drop off the jub jubs.
Astrally, Nib and I could make out about five patterns, so we suspected there were five Name-givers. Redsun’s True Sight let him see exactly where they were, and he reported three t’skrang, an elf and a windling. As the Name-givers approached, one called out for the jub jubs, but of course, there was no reply, They continued looking around and saw the blood and one of the dead jub jubs. We’d waited too long. Now they were alerted! Melee began.
Nib cast Dispel Magic on one and made him visible. I tried the same with Suppress Curse, but it had no effect. Or rather, it helped them, rather than helping us. It made the t’skrang immune to bad effects for a short time. Damn me! Why did I do that!? Redsun killed the windling and one of the t’skrang with a single arrow each. Wow! Such incredible shots. Others in the party took down another of the t’skrang. Then Lazulin raced to the prow of the boat, called out loudly for them to surrender, and stood there, waiting for the enemy to choose. The remaining t’skrang and the elf retreated to the boat, swimming under and around it to stay out of reach, and began towing it further from shore. I foolishly jumped into the water after them and luckily didn’t get myself killed.
In the end, the two remaining vandals escaped on their boat.
We returned to Skyreader Island with the one remaining, but hurt, t’skrang. The two others escaped to Kampung Gajah and joined their imprisoned companion in accusing us of murder.They claimed that the trees were public property, and they could graze their jub jubs wherever they wanted. They claimed that nothing they were accused of remotely justified this level of violence against them. Hard to believe someone would accuse a questor of Mynbruje — Redsun — of murder, but they did.
