Session 6: Hunting the Bogshade. Trouble Brewing.

In a ‘calculated’ (read: absolutely bonkers) maneuver, the group set out to entrap the formidable Bogshade using what they knew of its hunting methods. They left Gordon the donkey and Danyar with his family and set out in the direction Yanla had indicated, generally northeast of Krezko.   Tonibore, equipped in his specially crafted, homemade Siberian bear hunting suit (imbued with the digestive poison Zenscha had prepared), served as the lure.   As the team traversed the treacherous bog, they confronted the harsh reality of the landscape: icy waters, deceiving terrain, and an enveloping fog that challenged their every step.   As they left the relative safety of the sparse forest, the landscape opened into a bleak expanse. The trees thinned out, replaced by low, scrubby bushes that clawed at their clothes as they passed. The ground beneath their feet became increasingly spongy, the earth soaked with the chill of early winter. With each step, the mud clung more stubbornly, pulling at their boots with a cold, wet grasp.   Ahead, the terrain morphed into a true bog. The water, dark and unwelcoming, mirrored the gray skies above. Icy patches floated on the surface, bobbing gently in the murky waters. These ice sheets formed a deceptive crust, suggesting solidity but often giving way to the frigid water beneath at the slightest weight. The further they ventured, the more the fog rolled in, wrapping the bog in a thick, wet blanket that muffled sound and confused the senses.   Navigating this perilous environment required acute physical dexterity and environmental awareness. Each misstep risked submersion into the icy depths, necessitating immediate rescue efforts and battling the biting cold, which threatened hypothermia. They managed to traverse it without disaster, however.   In the heart of the bog, the Bogshade deployed its deceptive tactic as predicted—a pheromone-induced illusion of an ethereal figure bathed in moonlight. The vision was mesmerizing, compelling those affected to draw nearer. Yet, as the creature prepared to strike from its concealed position, the plan unfolded.   Tonibore charged, drawing the beast's attention and allowing it to swallow him, initiating the internal assault with the poison.   Bogshades, as they discovered, were incredibly willful but, while not entirely stupid, they were incredibly predictable in their single-minded pursuit of prey, following the same strategy nearly every time. This worked in their favor.   The skirmish was fierce, as the creature was able to sustain considerable physical damage, regenerating at a prodigious rate.   While Orian succumbed briefly to the illusion induced by its hallucinogenic pheromones, Rolandus from without and Tonibore from within the creature dealt significant damage.   Despite some injuries, they brought it down, and Zenscha harvested the creature’s glands to craft a potent regenerative salve. Gummy and sticky in a way that picked up absolutely everything it touched, it wasn’t the most pleasant thing to smear on oneself, but it did indeed double the rate of natural healing for approximately 24 hours after contact. Perhaps there was a way to make it more palatable, but the middle of a swamp without her full kit didn’t seem the place to find out.   This effort only yielded several concentrated doses of the stuff, one of which was provided to Rolandus immediately. He had insisted on coming along, despite his injuries, although this time it was Tonibore—having been on the inside of a Bogshade for the first time was surely a rush of a sort for him, but at the same time, thoroughly unpleasant.   Upon heading back towards Krezko, the night brought new tensions. Hidden in the dimming light, the group witnessed Serg cornered by three men—two from the Regiment and one from the Watch. The exchange was tense, with threats both veiled and overt, as they accused Serg of affiliations with the Circle and threatened his family’s safety.  

Watch (demanding and authoritative): "Enough games, Serg. We know the Circle's been active around here, and your little card games seem to be at the center of it all. Start talking, or I can't promise your daughter will sleep safely tonight."   Serg (pleading and fearful): "I swear on everything I hold dear, I don't know what you're talking about. Please, just leave my family out of this. We have nothing to do with any witches or the Circle!"   Regiment Grunt 1 (impatient and threatening): "We’re not here for your pathetic lies. You’re going to start talking, or things get worse for you."   Regiment Grunt 2 (raising his fist): "Maybe you need more... persuasion." The grunt stepped forward and delivered a sharp punch to Serg's face, making him stagger back, clutching his cheek.   Serg (holding his face, anguished): "Alright! Alright! I've heard whispers, yes, but I don’t know names! There's a meeting, that’s all I know!"

  Serg was shortly thereafter all but dragged off. The group, opting to remain hidden, gathered a little insight into the Watch’s operations without risking direct confrontation.   Tonibore scouted after the group, who led Serg to a nearby encampment of maybe 20-30 Regiment and Watch, with an accompaniment of servants/slaves (the shackles were a bit of a giveaway). He slipped away shortly after, not wanting to risk their notice.   This encounter had set the stage for future conflicts. Serg’s capture and an encampment such as this so close to the village could not bode well.