Quicksilver Voice
The Twenty Fifth of Elnu-hamba [Elnu Descendent] Year 1348 A. L. (After Landfall)
"Stop, I beg thee!" you call out towards the well, even as you motion for the others to stay back, words tumble from your lips so swift your tongue almost trips over them. "We are strangers to these lands, coming from a place where the lure of gold is terrible indeed. If there be any price to pay for this man's transgression then let me as his lord pay it in full."
Jean twists and writhes on the ground as you speak, like some horrid seeming of a fish thrashing on land, as water spurts from his mouth and nose, his eyes roll back in his head and it is all that you can do not to rush to aid him at once but listen for an answer.
One comes like water bubbling over stone yet speaking the language of the land. "Men clad in
iron"... the word is near to being a curse, "come to my well with greed in their heart yet seek to be spared my kiss as though greed were some sickness and not the work of their own will."
That which rose from the water had the shape of a man, but it was as no kin to Adam, no son of Eve. His skin was grey as a misty morn, hair white as sea-foam rippling down to his shoulders framing a face fair as you had only before seen carved in stone or painted upon glass, and indeed it seems as if some secret light flows through him from realms beyond this one.
There is no treasure in the water behind him, you realize distantly,
hidden perhaps by some glamor.
The remainder of your men lift their blades at the sight or else start to raise arrow to bow, but none of them can meet the spirit's eyes. Before you on Silver you feel Inge tense, the air grows chill and your breath steams in it. She does not shy from the guardian's eye.
After a moment the spirit speaks again, words like a song flowing. "Mortals are so slow to learn, and..." he glances at Jean as the man finally manages a great hacking cough that leaves him stretched out on the ground, stirring weakly. "So quick to forget. If I should slay you than none shall learn from your error, so perhaps a task. Yes, a task to wipe away your debt, your sin before this holy place. Slay the invaders from the south, the men of Inaurna, and recover from them the skulls of my fallen kin of bright wing which they have stolen and defiled. Do this and I shall count your trespass repaid in full."
At first you breathe a sigh of relief, you had been sent here to see to the disturbance at the stones, if you should happen to put paid the threat than no doubt Ohun will be glad of it and Jean's folly will be atoned for, but as he speaks you spy, or think you spy, a false note in the song. He seems too swift, this guardian spirit, to pass from talk of slaying you to charging you with recovering the bones of his kin.
Does such a creature even have bones?
Focus Roland! You shake your head to dispel unwelcome wanderings. This is not a man so perhaps it is commonplace for such as he to change like the wind, but somehow you do not think so. He seems to eager to hear you give the word, too quick to lay it all out before you. Yet hidden purpose or no can you afford not to give your word, with one man half-drowned and barely breathing, not even knowing if honest steel can harm the one before you?
"Where are these foes of yours and how great their numbers?" you ask to give yourself time to think as much as because you need to know the answer.
"Only three yet live and you are five even without the fool," comes the reply. "One among their numbers is a sorcerer-poet who weaves twisted verses, but the others are naught but common guards and all of them afoot. If you should come upon them from behind atop your beasts then you shall surely slay them. For my part I have no interest in their weapons or their coin, only the skulls, all else you may keep as you please."
"That answers who but not the where," Inge interjects. "Horses legs are long, but not so swift as a bird on the wing."
"I shall send a guide," the spirit replies, his voice losing its dreadful edge, a softer melody in the weaving. "The defilers are no more than three leagues distant as the crow flies, four and a half as your beasts can walk. Soon they shall camp for the night and you may ride through the dark hours to find them and to bring justice upon them."
What do you do?
[] Take the water spirit's deal
[] Ask more questions
-[] Write in
[] No, there is some trickery a foot here, attack
-[] Write in plan
[] Write in
OOC: Whelp color me impressed, you somehow managed to beat the bluff roll of a being with +17 Bluff. Just narrowly and only because you were on your horse, but a win is a win, so you know it is trying to deceive you somehow. Jean made his second save so he is now stable at 0 HP. 
