Session 128: Scallywags: Moonblade Dreams of Salty Sieges

Ihapaeg, over the three days of downtime, shares stories of the challenges and trials of the previous king Borq, Wulfgar's brother. Concepts the cleric should remember, but he cannot for whatever reason. Nevertheless: The Underworld of Sereth: Its guardian, death or aid, a three-headed dog, Cerebus; the Village of Lost Stior, caked and stacked in feces and shit, the refuge of many, many years of herds of horses, cows, etc.; the Vesperian Orchards, where Ihapaeg found love of the three fey guardians before they stole the apples as a needed gift for Borq's bond to the Wall and Coronation as the Grey Coast's king some 150 years ago. These events are convoluted and out of order, and still Ihapaeg is surprised he knows them and their movements and Wulfgar does not. He shares nine stories in total. Three more shared here: the lands Uern, and the great boar that was hunted, hopefully almost tamed, its hide turned into Borq's protective cloak throughout his Kingship; the Threevian hunt, too, of the divine elk, the Hind, the last of the herd, for the rest have been taken as the chariot of Obad-hai himself. Lastly, but almost first, the watery and rocky lands of Taiel, where the great lion, maybe a sphinz resides. Riddles and death it provides. Borq's greatest warrior took its main for his own herald of kingly guard. This much Wulfgar knows, but now he truly remembers where. 
Three more stories will come next session: Taernian, Iam, Borqre. 

Orran spends some time in Lady Saerah's canopied rigging, trees and brances swinging in the wind. He has the moonblade on his lap, and he hopes the night, the nature of the Grey Coasts, the quiet winds, the trees about him--the attunement of the weapon surely must take place. And most of an hour he must wait, always feeling unworthy from the tension and vibe, the anxiet of the spirit of the blade within his grasp.  

The rest of the session the group plays as kobolds: a dragonshield guardian, a animal/lion friendly skirmisher, a kobold war vessel piloted by three kobolds, and the mascot and representative of all the glory of the kobolds: one born with wings. These, and many others, follow their captain and leader, Veruca Salt, as they follow the 'queen's vessel'; it had disappeared recently in these waters, but how, Lady Salt doesn't know, assuming magic. Nevertheless, that same night, they see the fire light on the shores, and they hope the vessel had left members behind. Taking advantage of the darkness they love so much, they come to shore and make a quick camp while Lady Salt leads her advanced crew over the cliff--with some make-shift pulleys and good old torque from the the war vessel's tank-like wheels--and they are soon greeted by a forward group of maraurding orcs. With what little Veruca understands, she knows they are here to collect kobold heads as the payment of the very Queen Lady Salt follows, so the kobolds cackle and unite, and they charge at the orcs. 

To be clear, at first they only saw silhouettes of creatures, and they stopped and waited, but the charge they oh so wanted to do. Barring that, once that they see they are orcs, and ones mounted upon lions no less, they pause and unify they attacks, leaving none alive, even one who wants to escape. 

They follow the Queen's trail, and fortunately they stop in time before they are seen or heard. Salt knows they must wait, and regroup. The queen has six copies of herself. Veruca will need all her kobolds to hope to have a chance, and if not, well, they at least must learn why the Queen is here, no?