At this point, Stewart who is half in the bag interjects, "Let's get something straight Mr. Fancy Pants, Steve here ain't the leader of this here group." [Belch] " 'e ain't even one of the founders. Properly I reckon that [snort] honor ought ta go to Darius over there. Or maybe me, or Dexter and any one of the other orginals. But tain't Steve for sure."
Stewart as obnoxious as always does have a couple of points, Steve is not the founder, and the man is a fancy pants as you look more closely. He is dressed entirely in silk. He is wearing silk pants, a silk shirt, a silk jacket, a silk scarf, a silk headband to hold back his flowing long hair. You know you'd even bet his underwear is silk, and come to think about it, his escorts are wearing an awful lot of silk for what else they are wearing. The clothes look like they are still dusty from the road. You'd guess that he has just gotten into town after a hard ride. He and his companion's have that look.
Several party members recognised him as Igor Peterson, the silk merchant, son of Peter Igorson, a moderately successful adventurer over 30 years ago who settled down to a village (Quaervarr) not far from here, to start a silk ranching business. The village use to be just a small logging village it is now also heavily into silk manufacturing. The village has prospered greatly in the last decades thanks mainly to Peter Igorson and Igor Peterson 's business. They are well reputed as being civic minded individuals.
The merchant is taken aback at Stewart's comments, as Stewart sits down putting his bare feet up onto the table, and drinking directly from the keg he has been tapping from all night.
The merchant nods to Stewart, looks in Darius's direction, clearly inviting him to join the conversation, Stewart appears molified. "As I was saying, Bruce over that the Ruby Star as spoken highly of you and ... Anything For A Laugh? And I have a business proposition for you. My name is Igor Peterson, my father is Peter Igorson. We run a small silk ranching business just outside the village of Quarvarr. An unfortunate incident has occurred there and I need the skills of adventures.
"My father always spoke well of adventurers, unlike most. He said that if you could find a good band, treat them fairly, that they would always be there when you needed it. Well, Bruce thinks highly of the way you all handled yourself and I will treat you fairly.
"You all interested in hearing my proposition?"
The group gathered, and then he proceeded.
"Here's the situation. As I said, my father is Peter Igorson, back about 30 years ago, he had some luck in one of his adventures and found a creature we call spinners that spin silk. He brought them back to Quarvarr. He bought the old abandoned manor house near there, restored it, and setup shop with all the money he had and that he could borrow. About 10 years ago, during one of the transitions from an old queen to a new one, he got bit by the baby queen.
"Fortunately, he kept the antidote with him, he got it, and for the transitions, we keep a cleric on call in the manor, not in the barn, though. It avoids hazard pay. He got back to the manor from the barn and had the priest cure the poison again, just to be sure. He thought he had caught it, but a year or so later, he started to lose his memory and his stamina. Yeah Dad is up there in years, but he always attributed it to the baby queen's poison. He was going great guns until that.
"Yeah, I know that's ancient history, but here is why it is relavant. Dad's mind is fading, but he still tries to help out with the spinners. He's always been the best at handling them, even as addled as he has gotten. Well, he screwed up and forgot to lock the cages. One of the feeders, Aelwunor over there, noticed that all the cages on one side were open. He shut the barn, we raised the alarm and got everyone out except Dad. Aelwunor called to Dad before raising the alarm, but Dad ignored him and continued to open the cages. Well, with all the young ones we have, we had to get out. We didn't get out Myranor, but he's a smart old cat, I suspect you'll find him someplace in the manor all fat and sassy. He'll know what's going on there. If Dad made it out to someplace, Myranor will know that.
"Anyway, what I want you all to do, is go in and clean the place out of spinners. I need the current crop of silk, I can meet my orders with that, and I need the egg sac. It'd be convient if you'd capture some of the spinners so we did not have to shut down the shops until the sac hatches.
"I can ... not really afford to pay you in cash right now. I've lost a couple of caravans to raids recently and with all the wereguilds I've had to pay out, I am cash poor. I can pay you in silk though. I can pay you 10 bolts for trying. 10 more for accounting for all the spinners. That way at least the village is safe. I can pay you ... a bolt for every 2 young spinners recovered, up to 10 bolts. Oh, I'll pay for the grays too. Not the blacks though. I'll pay you another bolt for killing the queen. Do not try to capture her, she is far too dangerous. For the egg sac, I can pay you with a few scrolls my father has saved. One of them is a map to the place that he got the spinners at. He said the place was haunted, but he thought that there'd be alot of treasure there. His friends wanted him to go on, but they decided it was too dangerous for them. Dad was a very persuasive speaker back then. The others are from that place. I know a couple of them are magic. I'm not inclined that way myself so I have no knowledge of what they are.
"And... And... I'll throw in," he does a quick scan of the people in the group listening, "an oil of spider freedom for each person who goes. Up to 8. That's all I have."
He turns to the men who came in with him who have all stayed a respectful distance from you all. They've taken a table not far away and have ordered food. "Tony? Bob? You all got your spider kits with you?"
One of the human teamsters answers, "Yeah, boss, we got 'em, ya need somethin'?" Both humans get up immediately and move towards him reaching for a sactel on theirs belts. It is obvious from their expressions, he had asked them for the shirts on their backs, they would be handed to him no question.
"I can sell you all 3 antidotes. That's all we have. For 200 gp apiece. If you don't use them, I'll buy 'em back for that. 200 is my material cost for them. I'd give them to you, but as I said, I haven't got alot of cash right now, and I don't like my people being without them. I could probably scare up a couple more in the village, but that would leave us without any, and I can not risk the people.
"We know it is fully effective if taken in advance, but as Dad proved, it is not fully effective if taken afterwards."
One of the teamsters walks up, and says "We of the village will pay. We ain't got much, but what we got we got from Mr. Igorson and Mr. Peterson."
The merchant says, "Tony be quiet."
The other teamster turns to the merchant and says, "No boss, you be quiet. You treat us good. Your dad always said 'what goes around, comes around.' Well its coming around. Let Tony talk."
The merchant falls silent, eyes brimming with emotion.
Tony continues, "As I said, we ain't got much, but if you all get them trannies back, and you don't burn down the manor or nuthin', we'll tailor each of you a fine set of clothes. As fine as the ladies can make. If no one else will do, Martha, Martha May, Debbie and little Suebee will do it."
Bob chimes in, "Don't be silly Tony, they all pitch in, not just yours. The manor done too much for all of us." Turning to the group, "You all kill that bitch queen and I'll weave you a couple hundred feet of rope myself."
Tony says flatly, "We."
Bob echoes, "We'll weave you that rope then."
When the teamsters started talking the elf wandered over, "Like them others, I can not offer you much in the way of cash, but if you all want a guide for the Moon Woods, you help the manor, you got one. For as long as you want, you got one. Just ask for Aelwunor or one of his sons. Quaervarr done right well because of the boss here and his dad. And in case it ain't obvious, well, they treat folks right round here. You help them and you'll have friends in Quervarr. Like young Bob said, 'what goes around, comes around.'"
When they inquired, the party was told a bolt of silk was valued between 60-100 gp here
In your questioning of the silk merchant and his people, you uncovered a number of interesting facts as well as discovering a number of features yourselves. The interesting facts are detailed below.
As far as the physical layout of the manor, it was built by someone who was security conscious. As Hahrvee put it, "a paranoid genius", I am sure that Peter Igorson appreciated Hahrvee comments posthumously. The outer grounds are a 100 yard perimeter of broken obsidian. It is sharp and uncomfortable to walk on. No mammal would willingly walk on the stuff and that may well be the true purpose of it. Even reptiles and magical creatures would seek to avoid walking on it. As further security, it is impossible to walk silently on the obsidian, pieces will break, some will stick to the bottom of your shoes and fall off etc etc etc. The trail leading to the manor has a number of twists and turns along with many false trails leading off of it. Without the tokens it would be easy to become lost even following the trail. Without the ward token you can see that the wardmist starts about twenty yards inside the perimeter. You were told that the ward mist ended about twenty yards from the wall. Hahrvee in his investigation of the trail, discovered that the trail itself about twenty yards from the wall changed. It starts to click as the stones of the trail are balanced. They are not off balance much, it is not enough to bother a horse much, but it is enough to make some noise so a thief can not sneak up quietly, as Hahrvee was trying to do.
The wall itself is a low wall, only about 6-7 feet high. It has numerous spots that are obviously designed to hide archers behind. When you asked about climbing over the wall, Aelwunor replied that he had climbed out over the wall many times, but never in. He would not recommend it. There was one point in the wall, in the rear corner where a slide / trail of silk had been laid. It stopped about twenty yards from the wall and your best guess is that it was about the point where the ward mist starts.
Spinners live only a couple of years. As they mature, they darken. Young spinners are so translucent as to be almost invisible. In their second stage, they are gray, in the final stage black. Spinner silk can be collected, treated and then used as if regular silk. It is slightly courser, and stronger than normal silk. Spinners normally do not use poison, but can with a suicidal attack much like bees sting a victim. Translucent spinners are invisible in webs and are 90% undetectable in textured surfaces. Black spinners will fling webbing at their opponent's eyes attempting to first blind their opponents before attacking. If the victim is wearing a closed helm or special eye protection this attack has no effect. Spinners also have the ability to attach themselves to their victims.
Translucent spinners, also called babies or trannies are small - about 2-4' long. Having now carried them you would put their mass in the 9-18 lbs range. They vary in size, but in general seem to be in two basic sizes. You would speculate that they are from two different hatchings. The gray spinners are in middle age, these spinners are easier to see than the babies and larger, when they were described they were put at the size of large dogs. Black spinners are even larger, they were described as man sized, if the scaling follows you would put them at about 120-180 lbs. They can throw silk with uncanny accurrancy at the eyes of their opponents, blinding them. They also occasionally use poison themselves. Although their sting kills them, unlike the queen.
The first letter was in common and written (unevenly) on the back of a map:
My heirs,
If the queen ever dies hire a bunch of adventurers to get you
another egg sack. Don't let the count get too large the get
smart! I feel the poison in my viens even now. My memory is
going. Don't go yourselves unless you are as great a fool as I.
-Pentacle emblem(possible mage sigil) as signature
The second letter was written in an archaic dialect of dwarvish and appeared to be roughly 30 years old:
My Dearest Love,
I am afraid that the banishment will have to stand. Not even all the political favors I had were enough to get it lifted. But do not despair my love. The consil was not was not without its mercy. I managed to get the banishment reduced, as well as getting them to allow you a few small comforts. I love you and it is only 50 years my love. We will be able to be together again. I hope that the tunnler and the guardians make it to you long before this note. I have delayed writing in that I had hopes that I could reduced the time that you have to spend in that primative place. I hope that our old alliance with that village is still standing. I never thought it would come to that, but then again, you always planned for everything. Keeping up old potbelly's friendship with those barbarous creatures looks like a stroke of genius. All that I can say it that I will wait for you. I will send what I can as I can. Ther tunnler is at the end of its life. Use it quickly. They did not want to let me send one, but I think that they felt guilty for the time so they allowed me to send an old worn out one. The guardians are guardians, you know the routine with them. The gods have retreated here. I assume that that is the case down there too. The forray into the light has cost us dearly, but not as dearly as those fools as the consul thing.
I would come myself, but they will not let me. I think they fear that
we would raise an army of barbarians to loot the place. Hah, they are
right. So I am stuck here. Enjoy the bottle.
Darkness brings forgiveness,
^ / \ \ / V
