S43: The Transformation of Nom

Our group begins to stir as the morning sun shines through the many cracks in the roof of Honor’s shop. By the gods, all of the group feels refreshed and healthy, even though just a few hours before a couple of the party were squarely on death’s door. Nom, still in minor shock, tries to wrap her head around her new aesthetic. 

First order of business… a much desired and needed shopping trip as all except Mokon head to the Thracian Market. Mokon has plans to find out if the seedier inhabitants of Lower Therack have any knowledge of any truth to the rumors of a large diamond in Jarnigol Holdings.

The Therackian Market is just beginning to bustle as shop owners begin to open their booths and the elderly residents of Therack finish their ritualistic shop walks.

Lordric, the elderly arthritic half-dwarf leatherworker, sells the group 10 large cow hides, 2 leather pouches, 1 gently used fanny pack, and three saddles. Additionally, he sizes and creates two very special back slings to carry swords and daggers for Fay and Nom to, more easily, deal pain.

Geraldine, a 93-year-old, 4 foot 3 inch, white-haired granny with dominatrix tendencies sells Nom a skin-tight ¾ cuff brown leather leotard and a very used bad-boy scourge (a whip with small spikes). And for free she shares a tantalizing tale called “The Three Large Orcs and the Pits of Pleasure”.

Elminar, a hoity-toity half-elf with a superiority complex sells the group a “heavy” draft horse and two riding horses of which the group may choose which ones in particular from a stable on the outskirts of town.

Brin and Harie, two polite and helpful human tweens, sell Alora a new longbow and a quiver of 20 arrows. They also agree to sell her short bow quiver if they are able.

Sequi, a middle-aged jeweler with an eye for value is guarded by a no-name mercenary for hire. She sells the group a 300 gold piece diamond, a black pearl holding locket, and a small emerald necklace.

A blind, hard-working cobbler by the name of Wilbur pays no mind as Nom browses his ware for the most bad-ass looking chonkey boots she can find for 2 gold.

Content with their morning in the shops they head back to Dorus' humble abode to regroup.

During this time Mokon has made his way with Thumper to Lower Therack making his way down the shady streets. He notices many questionable individuals who make strange signs with their hands -- he doesn’t understand what they are saying, but he does recognize this as thieves cant. As Mokon makes his way down a dark alley and is followed by four up-and-coming thieves -- Mokon was eagerly expecting such an event. Asking Kruss to once again show off his acting prowess two of the four thieves run in fear. The other two meet the powerful hooves of Thumper. Mokon, being a forgiving soul, willingly pays a “discounted” fee to loosen the portly and inbred lips of the heavier-set pickpocket, finding out that there are rumors of a large diamond in Jarnigol Holdings. However, to find out if the rumors are, in fact, true they should head to Derwin’s Bar inside he’ll see a man in the back who will be able to answer Mokon’s inquiry. Mokon takes the information for a later date and heads back to Honor’s Weapons to meet the rest of his crew.

Now for the real order of business -- make the 50-mile journey to the druid grove. The one place that Ton found most at peace. Ton, the absolute best friend of Fay. Ton, the best Father a Loxodon could ask for. Ton the sparkle in Alora’s eye. Ton, the guy whose well-being was put on the back burner for days, and days, and days. Ton the guy whose importance fell just above finding swamp grubs, and just below pretty much everything else. But first… horses.

Fay has Axel, Mokon has Thump, but Nom, Alora, and Dorus are steed free… time to change that. As the BOP leave Therack they take a heavy hooved road to the northeast (a road they had seen literally years ago). At the end of this road, a large, well-built stable with accompanying corral. Within the corral and middle-aged gentleman with strong hands and a sweat-soaked shirt canters a horse in a wide circle. He greets the group, reviews the equine bills of sale, and points them in the direction of the stable. “Choose two riding horses on the left, and a workhorse on the right,” then he slowly walks back to his task at hand. Once inside Dorus chooses a tall, muscular, almost entirely white steed with a patch of brown on her right rump that looks gloriously similar to Eldath. Nom chooses a strong and sleek pure black horse with a smattering of spots with a very apparent chip on his proverbial shoulder -- Nom makes sure to assert dominance with a quick finger to the teeth. Alora, not as interested in looks as she is in a connection. Carefully, she inspects each horse one by one, she finally reaches the last stall. Inside, a fluffy, smaller than the others, dark black and gray horse does his best to stay upright. He wobbles as his knobby knees rattle together after each guttural cough. His larger-than-normal right eye looks into Alora’s, while his left eye drifts aimlessly -- an instant connection. He stumbles forward veering slightly to the left. Alora repositions her body to stay in his direct line of sight. Eventually, his misshapen head rests gently against Alora’s upper thigh -- his 4 foot 3 stature happily finding a companion. His almost hairless tail wags happily as if it were free of any bones or structure -- much like a wet sock. 

From the back of the barn, the group hears. “Oh, you don’t want that one, he’s next in line for the hammer.” Alora gasps as she holds her new “stallion” close. ”Have it yer way,” replies the farm hand as he continues with his daily chores.

For the first time in many, many days the BOP find travel not by foot, but by hoof as they make their way toward Eldath’s druid grove in the hopes to find Ton.

Now on horseback (and axe beak) the crew makes short work of the journey ahead stopping only for one night for rest before making the final leg of their trek. As they approach Eldath’s druidic grove, Dorus tells stories of the beauty, peace, and tranquility of which they too will be able to partake so very soon. Fay is the first to smell smoke and cooking meat. Dorus is not concerned as it is typically to have venison prepared over a fire in the grove. But as the group continues forward they begin to smell unnatural amounts of smoke and begin to feel as though they are being watched. Fay sends her owl ahead to investigate. Sure enough, hundreds of beasts move at great speed through the woods. Hundreds of eyes watch our adventurers move forward. Alora confirms the beasts are indeed close with a clairvoyant spell. Dorus and Mokon, worried now for what they mind find ahead, and concerned for the horde of beasts that approach from behind rush forward to whatever they may find.

As the grove comes into view the once lush trees are now burning and bare. Where a plethora of flowers once bed now only dirt and soot remain. Sitting on a broken and raised statue of Eldath in the form of a makeshift throne sits a large half-man half-hyena laughing maniacally as they approach. To his left stands a hulking out-of-proportion beast with long gangly arms, an oversized torso, and the head of a hyena. Running and jumping spastically around the two a ball of hair, teeth, and hooks. Around the three a pit of fire and bone… the heat and embers sting at the groups' eyes. Past the glow of the flames, tents, cages, and pits fill the forest clearing.

The leader, now aware of the group's presence yells in a growl with spasms of laughter, “Who are you? Come. Now.” 

More and more gnolls begin to appear from the shadows of the woods.

In an effort to conserve the lives of their newly acquired fateful steeds, the group, all but Mokon, dismount. And with a slap to the hindquarters, the horses and lone axe beak (somehow ridden by a giant-sized mouse/hamster/pig) escape into the decimated forest. Howling and whoops can be heard amongst the pattering of frantic hooves and talons.

Concerned, yet in a bit of a bind due to the sheer number of eyes upon them, Dorus moves forward. Mokon stays atop his trusty steed, Thump protecting the flank of the party. Alora and Nom prepare for the worst. While Fay subtly attacks in preparation for battle. The BOP chatter amongst themselves as they slowly move forward trying to find a way out of their current predicament. Looking around Dorus sees the tattered clothing of the Eldath druids ripped and torn and scattered over land, bones, and worn haphazardly by a number of gnolls.

One of the more aggressive gnolls advances with whip in hand. With a flick of his wrist, searing pain spreads its way across a piece of Mokon’s exposed flesh. “Move!” Instantly a cloud of fog surrounds the party. High-pitched chatter and excitement erupt from the onlooking gnolls. The thick fog does not allow for easy combat. Alora, sensing the danger earlier, had begun to cast a spell to keep the group safe. A half orb of force materializes around the group -- all but Mokon who, amongst the confusion, has been thrown into a pit of prisoners.