The news that Rawlins had killed a pair of giant two headed monsters and adopted their baby was...confusing. He hadn’t abandoned his duties, of course, the caverns had been fully swept, no other monsters located and the tunnels down into what the goblins called the Deep Dark and the quest screen called the Underdark were under guard. There was a decision that needed to be made there, about blocking it off, or constructing a guard post, but that was for later. Also for later would be using the remaining boxes on someone, depending on how many additional ones they got. Given what the others had received, he was curious what he would get if he ‘leveled up’...but he didn’t need it.
The goblins were thrilled by the reclamation of the lower caverns though the strange two-headed creatures had ravaged the mushroom fields and eaten every giant rat they could catch, it was still less bad then they’d feared. Some areas the dirt was badly compressed and would need to be raked up and re-fertilized, but the mushrooms hadn’t been all eaten and many of the smaller nooks and crannies had been left alone as the giants couldn’t fit their hands inside to pick them. And they couldn’t use the ladders the goblins did to access the galleries, and though their height was significant and their strength impressive, apparently they didn’t manage chin-ups and so had only plundered the galleries where they could reach them, except one which they’d managed to bring all the way down to the ground by successfully clambering up onto it somehow.
For whatever reason, the quest boxes had not updated, but then again, they hadn’t updated until the next morning last time. Perhaps whoever/whatever was doing this only checked those in the morning?Theorizing was pointless.
When Rawlins had sent a runner, Robert had followed along to see. He’d thought the orog was massive, these had to be thirteen feet tall and surely weighed at least a ton. After a moment’s thought, he remembered the [Enlarge/Reduce] spell a few spellcasters had and the Artificers could select. The material component was a bit of powdered iron, which he didn’t love wasting, but to get rid of these two giants, he’d take it. But it only lasted a minute, and even at a fair clip, getting to the outside wouldn’t be that fast. The spells would have to be layered on there as if it expanded in the passage, there would be problems.
Most of the people who might have the spell didn’t have it today, so he ordered a runner to have Captain Simpkins make sure those who could have it, would have it tomorrow. The corpses would have to be removed then.
The men were disassembling a massive mound of garbage. Most of its was useless, rotted hides, or timbers which were infested with termites or ants. There was a pile of things which might be salvageable, corroded metal and a surprising number of coins. But the vast majority of it was food waste and normal waste as well, though the goblins arriving were scrapping that off and pulling it towards the rat nests, which would, apparently consume almost anything and produce fertilizer for the mushrooms in turn. It was remarkable efficient, though he couldn’t help wondering what they did with the skins of the rats they killed. Given everything else, he doubted they simply threw them away, but they certainly weren’t wearing them. Their scarves were clearly woven from longer hair, probably their own, as were their loin cloths, not being made of tanned hides.
Perhaps they lacked the knowledge or materials to tan the hides? That might be something they could provide, he was sure there was a tanner amongst his men, though really he needed another list of the men’s prior professions, to go along with the list of their new skills and what supplies they had. Speaking of which, they had now fired more than 150 of their 4200 shots. Hopefully Rawlins would be able to create more at a reasonable cost with his new ability and they might be rewarded with enough EXP boxes to level up a few more clerics. Though many men had gained EXP from this combat, none had gained enough to level up, though Trip would have, if he hadn’t already gained one through the boxes. That balancing act was going to be annoying. Push people over before a battle, or let the battle do it for them, while concentrating boxes elsewhere?
Several men from Rawlins’ squad were close enough that the two remaining boxes could push ay of them over, but none of them were Artificers or Clerics. He was tempted to try spreading it out, the skills those two classes had gained at level 2 were extremely useful, while Trip’s gains were far less so. Should he try to focus on the known gains, or spread things around?
This was all an effort to distract him from the gigantic baby in the center of the mound, which Rawlins was fussing over, attempting to calm. Thankfully it already had teeth and seemed more than capable of eating food (indeed, Rawlins was trying to get it to eat from his own rations, rather than pulling rotting food from the pile surrounding it. This was good, as if it had needed milk Robert had no earthly notion of how they would find enough milk to feed a babe of that size, given his limited understanding of the yields from the giant rats...though perhaps they could have hired a goblin wet nurse...or twelve? Though he did not know if goblin babes needed milk. For all he knew goblins might come out of eggs.
He shook off that thought and quailed at the thought of talking to Rawlins as the older man was attempting to clean the giant filthy baby with his handkerchief and water from his canteen. Instead, he went to talk to Trip and examine the fortifications on the entrance to the Underdark/Deep Dark. They were reasonable, though stronger ones could be built, the question was, did they want a gatehouse or a wall?
That was a problem for later and frankly, maybe not for him. He was starting to slide again into everything being his responsibility and that was true within the regiment, but ‘should this area be open to exploration or not,’ was not a military question, but an archetypal civilian question. It was the government that decided when territories were opened to exploration and colonization, not the Army...but there was no government here. Yet. That would have to be remedied soon, but that just raised the question of what they were? Still part of the United States, or something new? Perhaps that question could be dodged for now, but the question of what to do with a baby the size of a goblin couldn’t be avoided much longer.
Men, were carrying the remnants of a shattered gallery out, as the rock might be useful building material, while the other rocks were simply being gathered by the entrance for use in whatever defenses needed to be constructed. He gained another few moments by checking the rat nests. They were as disgusting as he feared. Indeed, he actually found them quite frightening, even though the rats were clearly shying away from the lights of his escorts, he could still see their shadowy forms running about just on the edge of the light. They were nearly the size of goblins and their furtive, ratish motions seemed wrong on something that large.
As he reluctantly returned, he found another honorable cause for delay as Madam Varrarg had arrived and was inspecting the cavern, while dragging another goblin, one of the guides, as he’d been there when Robert had arrived, around behind her, with one ear clenched firmly in sharp-nailed fingers.
“Colonel, sir, uh…” Sergeant Wilson interrupted him on the way over.
“Yes, Sergeant?”
“Merrik did a good job, sir. He distracted our beast and spotted the other in the dark. Whatever is happening over there, he did a good job.”
Well, that at least identified the goblin. He nodded back to the sergeant and kept moving. “I’ll see what I can do.”
As he approached he heard muttered insults at Merrik’s intelligence combined with comments about the state of the cavern. “No way to rebuild that—reduce yields somewhat, but we don’t have enough smart goblins to even work what’s here, even if I were to count you as smart, despite you deciding to rush a giant instead of hiding behind the humans like a smart goblin!”
“But grandma—”
“Don’t grandma me. You’re the only other adult Breakleg, if you die our family goes the way of the Nonoses!”
“You’d just teach one of the kids, you’ll probably outlive me,” he muttered.
“Because I’m too smart to rush giants instead of hiding behind the soldiers who know how to fight!”
His voice dropped, but Robert thought he could hear a response containing the phrase ‘too mean to die.’
“What was that?” Madam Varrarg asked with a sharp twist to the ear that brought a pained squeal and a denial that anything had been said.
“Ma’am,” Robert said as he approached. She untwisted Merrik’s ear, but didn’t release it, though he tried to straighten.
“Ah, Colonel, thank you for returning our caverns to us and slaying the beasts. Did I understand correctly, that Ser—Lieutenant Rawlins intends to ‘adopt,’” he heard the word adopt, but her mouth moved considerably longer, like she was explaining some unknown thing to him, “the child of these creatures?” she waved her free hand a the corpses.
“I believe so, yes. Apparently they could speak, and we can hardly kill an intelligent creature for the crimes of its parents.”
She gave him a confused look, then shrugged. “On his head be it. I hope his faith is not leading him astray.”
Robert blinked at that, but pushed forward, “We won’t be able to remove the bodies until tomorrow.”
She shrugged again, “We could chop ‘em up and feed ‘em to the rats, if it’ll save you work.”
Robert shuddered slightly at the suggestion, to Madam Varrarg’s clear confusion. He forced himself to explain calmly. “I do not know your funeral rituals, or those of these...people. In the absence of direct indication to the otherwise, we will give them a proper funeral, for the sake of their souls and our own.”
He suddenly realized he didn’t know what had happened to his own body. Had it vanished when he came here, or hard a new one been made for his soul? What would the rebels have done with it if it was left there? They’d proclaimed that captured officers commanding Colored troops would be executed as those who incited insurrection were. The obvious comparison was John Brown, who he knew had been returned to his wife for burial...though the corpse of his son and three of his followers had ended up in the hands of doctors who dissected them rather than allowing proper burial and rest. Though the college of those fiends had burned at the hands of General Banks’ more than a year ago...but that was slim comfort to the soul and body of those men. To fear your body was in the hands of men such as that was a hard thing, but he forced himself away from that thought.
He shook the thought off as Merrik twisted and broke free of his grandmother’s chiding hand, “Colonel, I did the right thing, didn’t I? Helping your men? I did help, didn’t I?”
Robert met his gaze evenly, though he had to look down at the young man. “You did help.” the boy puffed up. “Whether you did the right thing? If you were one of my soldiers, the answer would be yes. But you aren’t. Whether you did the right thing as a Breakleg, I don’t know. But if you wish to enlist...talk to Trip. And your family.”
He nodded politely to the boy and to Madam Varrarg, whose red eyes narrowed at him. “I thought your weapons wouldn’t work for us.”
“We may have a solution for that, we’ll be testing it tomorrow.”
“Already?” was what she said, but Robert heard ‘Wait, you were serious?’
“Yes. We don’t know how well it will work, but we make progress. As you see,” he said with an expansive wave at the reconquered cavern. Captain Simpkins arrived at that point to inspect the progress and joined Robert after a moment. He took orders about removing the bodies and providing the information about the soldier’s prior employment and skills. And to Robert’s request that he identify someone else who had experience to act as chaplain going forward, as Robert did not have the skills to do it...especially given his youthful dalliances with Catholicism and his family history of Unitarianism, while most of the men were Baptists or Episcopalians. He had no desire for religious turmoil in the ranks, but he had even less desire for it to appear he was attempting to convert anyone.
Simpkins instantly looked towards Rawlins and Robert quickly shook his head. The new lieutenant was busy with his new duties and would be even more busy given what he was clearly setting up. Making him chaplain as well was simply unreasonable.
While he’d been doing that, more goblins had come down and were starting to organize things, talking to Trip who was casually handling the defensive operations. Robert released the other squads, leaving one on guard duty here. With another on guard duty for the base and two at the field, a large portion of his forces would be tied down defensively, especially when it was considered that the guards needed to be on all day and night, which at least doubled the number of men needed. Now, two squads were sent out to the field specifically to address that, but it still meant more than half of their eleven squads (counting officers) were on guard duty. They could do some other work, but it was just too much. He needed more men, a way to reduce the guard forces needed, or both.
The obvious way was to abandon the field...but he had no idea if more men would be coming through. He needed more people. The goblins could help and Thomas was already working on designs to let a small number of people accomplish a lot, his proposal to install a sawmill where the river bent a bit north of them, then use the outlet of the mill pond to water both crops and to ‘flush’ the saltpeter works that were being constructed downwind of everything else and well away from water supplies. But to really improve the place, they both needed more people and needed to get more use out of the people they had, which meant training and educating the goblins, as well as learning their tricks.
And it meant making greater use of spells. There was an [Alarm] spell (though it required a bell and silver wire...and the field could be left with clear signage directing any arrivals to wait. If hunting, or prospecting groups went through there daily, or every few days, that might be more efficient...he’d wait until three days had passed with no new arrivals before shifting to that. If the entrance to the Underdark was sealed, then they’d just need to trust the goblins to flee and warn them of a breach, given the stories they’d apparently told about burrowing and flying monsters, total security might be a delusion and men would just need to keep weapons close and have systems for rapid mobilization.
His own minutemen, as it were. There was also the [Find Familiar] spell, for scouting and warning, but the resources it needed, combined with the short range made that less attractive. Better to focus on more broadly useable things, such as making use of lookouts, the top of the mesa offered impressive views, and if men, or goblins were equipped with field glasses, or telescopes, they might easily keep watch on the entire area, unto the treeline on this side of the river, or the far distant hills on the other...yes, that would be a priority, along with the other many things he would need Rawlins to make...
With that decision made, he was out of excuses and went to talk to Rawlins.
“Lieutenant.”
“Colonel, sir, I know he’s--they’re large, but no larger than a goblin and though they’ll get bigger, that’ll make them so useful in construction and work on the walls. They’ll probably be able to lift entire trees into position!”
“Lieutenant—”
“And think what a soldier they could be! Flying artillery will have nothing on the 54th!”
“Lieutenant—”
“If a man fights like four men, surely we can feed him like four men too. And there’s two of them, really, so—”
Robert overcame his irritation with an effort and forced himself not to yell. Officers didn’t yell at one another, at least not in front of enlisted men. Instead he forced his voice to drop to a whisper. “Rawlins.”
The man finally stopped babbling arguments and just looked at him like he was a monster, with the certainty that something horrible was about to happen.
“If you wish to adopt this—these people, that is fine, I do not believe we are likely to encounter any relatives to contest such an action.” Rawlins sagged in relief and Robert continued forward, “I won’t waste your time with the fact that you’ll need to make sure you manage your private life to not interfere with your duties, but I will point out that so long as they remain your care, you will be responsible for them and their actions.” Even as he said it, he knew he didn’t have a good alternative if Rawlins decided he wasn’t taking responsibility for the child (or children). He certainly wasn’t killing them, but it’s not like there were handy civilian families or churches he could turn them over to and turning them over to the goblins seemed cruel given what his (nudity meant it was obviously ‘his’...or ‘their’) parents had done to them.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“Yes, of course!”
“Then, you’re officially given the rest of the day off to get this sorted, but we’ll need your assistance tomorrow to test the Artisan’s Blessing.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Sergeant Wilson, you’ve got command.”
“Yes, sir!”
With that resolved, Robert fled quickly, pausing only to grab the coinage that had been retrieved. He counted it and added it to the inventory on top of the chest. An additional 31 copper coins, 25 silver coins, 22 of some strange metal he didn’t recognize, 16 gold coins and another 2 of a different metal he didn’t recognize. He tried working on a list of things to get from Artisan’s Blessing to get price information. He made it through most of the list before he fell asleep at his desk, only to be awoken by a yelling messenger, the woodcutters had found something.
And it had trapped a number of them, but they were talking rather than shooting. So far.
Robert sprang to his feet, tripped over his travel desk, recovered and made it outside in something that looked like a dash, rather than a sprawl. The messenger was talking with Cabot. Apparently another man had come through, he’d apparently died of his wounds after the battle, but still coming through (another Commoner alas).
He’d been being escorted to the mesa by a squad swapping out on guard duty and they’d taken a more direct route than had previously been taken, as they decided to combine blazing a trail with bringing the man in, only to find themselves trapped in magically erupting vines and a voice speaking from the trees, demanding to know a bunch of stuff. A messenger was sent to bring back an officer.
“Simpkins, one squad with me. Private, lead the way,” Robert ordered, moving out at a quick march. A scratch squad was sent after him, catching up in moments. It took far less time than the previous route, and they were there in only a few minutes.
There were no vines in view, instead he found ten men standing around one shockingly beautiful woman whose only clothing was leaves which were shifting over her green body like unstable sheets. His first thought was orc, just due to skin color, but she had none of the broad, brutish features of an orc, instead her face was built along human lines, but thinner, more delicate. Besides her skin color and the leaves, her only truly inhuman characteristic was the pointed ears. All ten men were boasting about their roles in the regiment and in combat against the rebels. So much so that none of them even noticed when he arrived, until the sergeant in charge of his escort snapped, “ATTENTION!”
Then drilled instinct took over and they leapt back into position. “As you were,” Robert said, noting the woman also leapt into a mockery of the attention position when she saw what everyone else was doing and then relaxed when they did. “Corporal, will you introduce your companion?”
“Certainly, Colonel. Miss Silene of the Great Oak, I introduce you to Colonel Robert Shaw, Commander of the 54th Massachusetts Regiment.”
“My, my, my that’s an impressive title and a fancy uniform! You must be someone important who has seen so many interesting things and has so many interesting stories!” she—he’d somehow expected her to purr seductively, in a manner which fit her appearance and would be hard to deal with, given his recent marriage. Instead she spoke much like one of his sisters. But of more immediate interest was how she’d been speaking to the others, which he had realized was unusual, but only after he’d taken off...the most likely explanation was some sort of magic, though none of the spells they’d identified would allow that, besides his own boon.
He bowed slightly to her, “I may have a few. May I ask how we’re communicating?”
“Oh, an elf taught me the [Tongues] spell a few centuries ago before they all ran off for their little war. I can only cast it once a day, and it only lasts for an hour, but that’s plenty of time for lots of stories. You have to tell me something. I’ve got no one to talk to but plants and animals since the other dryads ran off to the Feywild! I’ve been soooo bored!” The impression of his younger sisters was even more impressive, as she clearly hadn’t met them and was apparently centuries old.
Robert nodded as his brain reeled at the question of how old this ‘dryad’ who was acting like his little sister had to be, given what she’d just said, assuming he believed her. He put that to one side and focused on the important things. “I understand you imprisoned some of my men?”
“Oh, just an [Entangle] because they were getting close to my tree and I thought they wanted to carve in it like they did the others. Can’t have that, it’s my life! But then they got out those fancy sticks and pointed them at me and everything was very exciting as everyone yelled. I’m afraid I called the man who ran off many names, as I thought he was a coward, but now I see he was a courier. I really am sorry,” she patted the messenger on the shoulder and though his skin made it hard to tell, Robert was fairly sure the man was blushing.
“So, this is just a misunderstanding?” he asked and the men all nodded eagerly.
“Unless you attack my tree! It’s that one,” she pointed at what sure looked like a massive oak tree. “Isn’t it handsome? Such a magnificent tree, it’s the youngest here by at least a hundred years, but thanks to my careful tending,” her voice lowered conspiratorially, “and a bit of pruning of the others nearby, don’t tell anyone, it’s by far the best around! Even the other trees agree.”
Robert nodded again, as that was the second time she implied she could talk to plants and she’d earlier implied she could speak to animals. There was a spell which did that too, but the need to bribe and interrogate the animals, combined with the knowledge that they usually killed and ate animals made that an uncomfortable prospect for many. “We were planning to put a trail in here, is that a problem?”
“Not at all, I’d be happy of the company! People can stop by and chat whenever you’re traveling along it! Why, so many might go along that I had to learn your language as we all talked so long that [Tongues] ran out! Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Robert, who was operating on two brief naps in the last three days, which had also included three battles, a death, an adoption of a giant two-headed baby, a transportation to another world and more confusing blue boxes than he could count at the moment, did not find it fun. Given the way the men were staring at her, he was clearly the only one to feel that way.
“I’m sure it will be. Did I understand you correctly that you can speak to plants and animals? And have been here for...a while?” He didn’t actually know if the etiquette rules for referencing a lady’s age applied to a centuries old dryad, but he didn’t feel like finding out, especially as she kept referencing spells which weren’t in his little list and therefore probably were not 1st level spells, implying she was more powerful than any of their spellcasters.
“Oh, yes, I know lots about the forest and talk to all the plants and animals. They’re boring though, I’d rather talk to you folks! You’re new and interesting!”
“I see, perhaps a game? Lieutenant Merriman is handling our food needs, I’m sure he has many questions about local plants and animals...you do know we eat them?”
“Oh, yes, just like the wolves eat the deer and the deer eat the grass, it’s very funny. You all look so silly eating and drinking. Why, when I fed your men some goodberries, all their little bulges jumped up and down like they were dancing!”
Robert blinked. His mind went somewhere filthy and then came back. [Goodberry] was the spell Sharts had wanted, which created berries that could allegedly provide all the food a man needed in a day in a single berry. Which made the bulge going up and down an Adam’s apple. And of course they’d happily eaten food provided by a strange plant lady in the dangerous woods. Had none of them heard any fairy tales as children?
“How...fascinating. Gentlemen, please escort Corporal Gooding,” and Robert was pleased to see the man straighten at being recognized, “back to camp and request that Lieutenant Merriman bring along a few folks who know about plants—”
“And folks with fun stories! But what’s the game you mentioned?” she asked eagerly. “Oh, and do you want some goodberries?”
“And folks with fun stories. No, thank you. The game would be the question game, he’ll ask a question about local plants or animals, and you answer, then you can ask a question about our old history and he’ll answer. In the meantime, you and I can play. We’re looking for mistletoe, do you know where we can find some?”
“Yes,” she smiled, then when Robert raised an eyebrow, she gave instructions, to a surprisingly close location and Robert sent off half his squad to fetch it.
“Tell me how you got that scar,” she reached out towards thescar on his neck.
He flinched, but kept his back straight. “The Battle of Antietam…” he did not have the strength to return her joke in kind and simply continued when he could. “the rebels had come north, seeking to invade our territory, rather than fight on their own. They had ravaged Maryland, ravenous men seeking to feed themselves on the crops of the Union, even as they rebelled against it. I was a captain, with the 2nd Massachusetts. We were part of the 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, XII Corps of the Army of the Potomac.”
“Wow! And there’s over a hundred of you in the 54th, so, those must be really big numbers of men involved! How many?”
He should have asked another question of his own in response, but he wasn’t quite there anymore. “The Regiment had many hundreds of men. The Corps more than eight thousand, the Army, I heard had more than a hundred thousand, though I think only half fought that day.”
“A hundred thousand? That’s...I can’t even imagine it.”
“We were sent to dislodge the rebels and marched into cannonfire. We kept good order, closing to rifle range ‘marching under the flag of the union, keeping step in brave comunion’ until the cannon drowned out bugles and knocked me from my feet. Some shrapnel hit me here...they didn’t tell me what it was when they removed it, but I saw it. It was a piece of bone from one of the men around me, flung into my body by the force which removed it from his. We retreated. The rebel cheered. But in the end, their invasion failed and they fled back to Virginia. They say more than ten thousand men on each side were injured or killed that day...I suppose, technically I’m one of them, though I don’t really think this counts,” he tapped the scar, staring past the dryad into the forest. It was early evening and shadows were just beginning to lengthen, but to him, it felt like midday.
“Wow! That’s so exciting!”
He controlled the urge to draw his pistol and show her exciting. “What are the directions to the nearest tree that was hit by lightning?” he asked instead, through gritted teeth.
She provided them eagerly.
“How did you join the…” her nose crinkled as she tried to remember what he’d said, “2nd Massachusetts?”
“It was my second regiment, I joined the 7th New York on a 90 day commitment. When that dissolved, Cabot and I joined the 2nd Massachusetts and was elected an officer...I was with them eighteen months, until after Antietam...Shamrock leaf?”
“No idea. Never heard of it. Wait..months? How old are you?”
“25 years. I’ll be 26 in about three months. Yew?”
“You’re only 25 years old? How fast does your tree grow?”
“I don’t have a tree.”
“Right. I knew that. That doesn’t count!” She belatedly gave directions to the Yew tree.
Robert shrugged, the more important thing was the relationship with someone who knew the forest, he had many men with many anecdotes who could amuse her. Though, as he watched the men of his escort shifting position and flexing slightly, he realized that one attractive woman and more than a hundred men might be significantly worse than zero attractive women and a more than a hundred men. Given her eagerness and naivete, he doubted she was going to simply choose someone.
“Pardon?” he asked, as she’d spoken while he was distracted. She repeated the question.
“How did you come here? Almost no one does, except the occasional orcish or sahuagin outcast and they always try to kill me.”
Another reminder that this was not a woman to be messed with. “I died. We all did, attempting to storm a fort defending Charleston. We volunteered to lead the assault. We charged and reached the walls. I died as we tried to storm the parapet. Then I woke up here, we all did, along with strange powers and odd floating translucent boxes. Then we found some orcs enslaving goblins, killed the one and freed the others and are now building a colony to survive, defend ourselves and bring the light of God and the Union to this territory.”
“Uh...I have more questions, but its your turn.”
“Wychwood?”
“No idea.”
“You saw ‘floating translucent boxes’?”
“Yes, each of us saw different content.”
She gave him a flat look, “What did yours look like?”
“It had a great deal of basic information, name, age, faith. Then claimed to somehow quantify our strength, dexterity, constitution, intelligence, wisdom and charisma and identify specific abilities which were given to me. For instance, mine granted me the ability to provide some healing via laying on hands and to allegedly sense undead or fiends.” Speaking of which, he focused hard and tried to use that ability, just in case. He couldn’t tell if it worked until he brought up his screen and checked.
Name: Robert Gould Shaw
Hit Points: 10
Species: Human
Strength: 13
Class: Paladin
Dexterity: 10
Background: Military
Constitution: 10
EXP: 35/300
Intelligence: 12
Level: 1
Wisdom: 14
Deity: Christian God
Charisma: 16
Age: 25
AC: 10
Skills: Persuasion, Religion, Athletics, Intimidation, Martial Weapons, Firearms
Background Feature: Officer (Colonel): Members of the Union Army recognize your rank and subordinates will generally defer to you. You can requisition support and supplies at Army posts.
Species Feature: Human: You gain EXP faster and level faster than more long lived species.
Sense Evil: 3 times per long rest you may invoke your divine senses and become aware of any undead or fiends within 60 feet of you, as well as sense anyone committing an evil act within that radius at the time of invocation.
Lay on Hands: You may heal up to 5 HP per long rest, simply by touching the target and willing it so.
Divine Boon of Translation: You will be able to understand any spoken language you hear or any language you read [barring unusual circumstances]. You may also mark two (2) subordinates with this boon. Caution, once chosen, the boon cannot be removed! Additional uses may be gained as well.
Yes, it had previously been 4 uses, so she wasn’t a ‘fiend’ or ‘undead’ and wasn’t carrying out any evil acts, however the boxes defined that.
“Oh, that is soooo weird! I’ve never heard of anything like that, ever before! How fascinatingly interesting!”
“Glowworm?” he asked
She gave directions, but warned it was a cave with an old, mean bear she called Snapper, inside. Lieutenant Merriman was taking his time, so he had to answer a few more questions about the boxes, even calling it up, so she could wave her hand through where it appeared to be to him. They’d already known no one else could see it, obviously, but seeing her hand pass through it was strangely disturbing. He’d seen his own do that when he first arrived, but that had been when he thought they were physical things, so had been too shocked to observe his fingers passing through what looked almost like a plane of blue glass, floating in the air.
In exchange, he asked about local threats, which got him a lengthy lecture about wildfire risk to trees, until he finally managed to remind her that he wasn’t a tree person. She repeated the goblin’s claim about monsters in the river, though she called them Sahuagin? Shark people? Who could breathe underwater! Allegedly they ranged up the river at times, hunting their ancient enemies, the elves, or, more frequently sent scouts up it, or exiles fled there, having committed some crime too heinous even for their allegedly barbarous society. Given Miss Silene’s admitted history with elves, Robert wasn’t inclined to take any position on such people without first hand experience. Especially given that fighting someone underwater would negate...all of their advantages in technology. Of more immediate concern was the fact that giant spiders (and didn’t even the mention of that send a chill through him) had spilled out of some caves to the north and were claiming a portion of the forest itself.
One of the men spoke up, “Can you eat ‘em?”
Robert couldn’t contain a surprised and disgusted look at the other man. “What? If they’re that big, it’s just like crab, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never tried, but Snapper’s eaten a couple over the years, never done him any harm.”
A few more questions got a description of the monsters and a warning about their stealth, webs and poisonous bite. Spiders the size of dogs or horses were very low on his list of things to encounter but even lower on his list of things to encounter on their terms, rather than his. Spiders the size of horses were right out altogether. They’d need to be dealt with. And if there were as many as she said, then using [Purify Food and Drink] and preserving the meat with salt was the obvious choice. And since they were only knowing spilling out of a cave system, which, as far as she knew only had two entrances, They could secure them both early in the day, then set up lights and smoke the beasts either out, or to death...but there might be lower levels which would not fill...but if they could secure the entrances and smoke out the upper layers, they could then advance slowly and empty the entire place...probably.
Another problem for later. The only other danger was a ‘Galeb Duhr’ or ‘big living rock thing’ that protected a ‘sacred’ hilltop to the west and killed anyone who encroached. Miss Silene’s main complaint was that the thing wouldn’t talk to her, but as she finished that complaint, Merriman and a few of his men showed up and Robert was able to switch off to let him handle it. He retreated, with his own, somewhat reluctant, squad, leaving her to Merriman. Over a few muttered comments about her beauty, he heard Miss Silene’s first question “Why’s his skin so pale? Did he fall in a bucket of milk as a child?”
Well...at least that told them something about the skin tones of these elves. Hearing mention of a war made him nervous, but that was centuries ago, what could it matter to him?