THIS WRITE-UP CONTAINS SPOILERS.
DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED PFS SCENARIO #3-13, The Quest for Perfection, Part III: Defenders of Nesting Swallow.
Journal of the Journey to and Defence of Swallow’s Nest, Khadem Aleghaderh, Pathfinder level 3
We have sucessfully landed. It seems that our loss of our boat and it’s cargo had become common knowlege. We are a laughingstock. Trading is impossible, and the local venture-captain has regrettably mislaid the horses that were to be our mounts for the voyage. In all frankness, I cannot blame him.
On a brighter note, my studies of the Tien language have borne fruit, and I feel I am competent to communicate.
We journey onward. The weather is miserable, and everyone tetchy. Even my new campfire bead – purchased at great expense – is sodden. I have elected not to attempt to cheer people up. I do not think it would be well received.
Thank the gods – the rain seems to have taken a break. The mud is as bad as ever, though.
We approach the village of Nesting Swallow, led by two of the inhabitants of that village. They were fleeing bandits, it seems, but were attacked on the road. Tengu. It seems that the town is beset. We will travel and meet the village councilmen.
It has been a productive evening. It seems these bandits attack every year, stealing most of the harvest, leaving just enough for the village to survive on so that they may attack again next year.
The last descendant of Lee Yeow is here, but she will not help us unless we first assist the village.
We begin making preparations at dawn tomorrow.
We have arrived at Nesting Swallow. The people of this village are set upon by bandits every year at harvest, and I am determined to help them prepare defences. This year shall be different!
Our first priority is the erecting of barricades and bringing in the harvest. Josinda and Ross are out “scouting”, so they call it. But I have had a spot of luck. Caella has approached me to assist him with assessing the material worth of this village. Easy enough – there is almost nothing here, save that they are strong on spirit, or shall be, once I infuse them with some andorran grit! The point is, he and I have struck a deal: in return for my wasting a day assisting him to make a stocktake, he shall act as I direct for the remainder of the time until the bandits attack. His help should be invaluable, as he has a way with traps.
In the meantime, L and T assist the farmers to get their harvest in.
And yet another spot of luck! The harvest is taken in, and L desires C’s help to help value it (I suspect Qadira at work, here). I offer him a day of C’s time in return for the same bargain – he will work as I direct to strengthen the defenses of the village.
I shall put him to work training the archers, of which the village has only a handful.
With the harvest in, we shall flood the rice paddys to defend the southern edge of the town. The whole area will be quite impassable to horses, and anyone attempting to come through there will bea easy pickings.
C has nearly completed strengthening the perimeter with traps and other devices. R and J are still “scouting”. Mind you – their efforts are not entirely useless. They report that a small army of bandits is indeed massing, and seems to be arranging to attack in 5 days. The barricades are not complete.
I have pulled some of the locals off the construction of barricades and had them train. This has been a mistake, as we are now behind. The defenses must
R and J have at last come in from their scouting. They assist with training. The barricades will be done tomorrow.
The defenses are as ready as they can be. We are spending this day and the next training our troops – such as they are – to fight. We make arrows.
The locals swing between optimism and despair. But I am satisfied: whatever the outcome, they have learned that freedom must be fought for! If they fall tomorrow, they will die on their feet, not on their knees. They have thrown off the yoke of their oppressor, they will spill the blood of their enemies that would enslave them.
I think everyone succeeded in their faction mission, mainly because we cooperated with one another to get them done.
We are victorious. We fought with the villagers, fending off waves of tengu bandits until the leader himself astride an axebeak entered the village through the burned-out eastern barricade. There is little to tell, save that we slew him.
Tomorrow, Je Tun, only living descendant of Lee Yeow, will perform a simple ceremony and awake the power of his braid.
Tonight, we rest – we are too weary to celebrate. This village will not soon forget that it was the pathfinders of Absalom who came to their aid.