The man still looks forlorn.
"I think you're too few, and they're too many. You might raid the village, kill a few, maybe save some of the hostages. But you'll have trouble retaking the whole of Nargental. Some of the villagers escaped to the Valdtor, that's a ruined keep about a day south of here. I'm going there, I think. You'd maybe best come with me - shelter, information, time to plan. If you're planning a raid, well, planning's part of that sentence isn't it?"
"Indeed, we need information, and time to plan," Rahadur agreed. "As for your implication, Artaruk," he added, "I am scarcely so far from the empire because I entirely agree with its policies."
"Sounds good to me. Perhaps I could arm myself with some real weapons, rather than these simple sticks and knives."
Kinnith nods. "Plans are good. Sometimes." The old man frowns. The gods often laugh at plans.
"Well, maybe we should not make a plan, but numbers are good."
-Posted with Wayfinder
I think we can at least see you to this ruined keep anyway. We need to get a better lay of the land and recent activities. I am sure we can learn a lot from you on the way there and more when we arrive. Are you ready to travel?
"It seems a majority of us agree," Rahadur says, turning back to the man they had rescued. "If you would guide us to this place, sir, we shall see what aid we might render, that your tragedy be not further added to."
More softflesh to pollute the empire's scaly bloodlines... If I could stop the trade of these slaves, do my bit to keep Mharoti pure, then Urmanli Uloonan Pashtek will be pleased with her Grak, not just Grak for long...
"We cannot allow the pale fleshed ones to be sold to the Empire! To the Valdtor we must go, to rescue the soft squishey ones."
Nish sidles over to Rahadur, thrusting some pouches into his claw before whispering
"An offering to a mighty scaled cousin. Remember little Nish in the times to come"
Rahadur seems somewhat surprised by this, though his surprise quickly turns to understanding.
"तपाईंले लामो, साम्राज्य टाढा भएको छैन तपाईं सानो एउटा छ?" He half-asks, half-states.
"Until we learn where we need to go, it's one to me where we head, as long as it's not certain death. Valdtor it is. If some scholars weren't killed, we may find out our ultimate destination. There must be a reason we were sent here.", Artaruk stated, not mentioning the Javelins themselves, after he finished digging the grave, ready to leave.
The man nods. "My name is Nidal. Is ... is one of you a priest? It's just, well, my boy. We'd better bury him here."
He pauses.
"The ruins are about a day's march. There may be patrols about. We'll need to stop somewhere overnight; I think I know somewhere safe."
Kinnith looks away from the man. I am glad I never had a child. With gods as fickle as these...
He shakes his head a little and crouches down, then studies the dirt to avoid making eye contact.
-Posted with Wayfinder
"I am called of Azuran," Rahadur says, with a slight quirk of his lips that might almost have been a grin in happier times. "If you would not find it too odd, I could say a brief blessing upon the grave."
I am willing to dig. Does anyone have a proper digging tool? Horvan wonders if he could be so strong after loosing a child as this man. His respect for the man increases.
"Are you mocking me, old man, or has age taken it's toll on your eyes?", Artaruk asks of Horvan, standing next to the shallow grave he dug.
"You have not long been away from the empire, have you, little one?"
"द एम्पिरे इस ओउर होमे चोउसिन एंड वे विल मके इत व्हत इत शोउल्द बे ओनस मोरे"
Nish hops from foot to foot at the far edge of the group
"Yes yes, graves, blessings, all things done properly, sure, but quickly please! Arrows and blades! let's be gone from here."
The mighty minotaur and the heroic man argue over who gets to scratch in the cold dirt... mightily heroic indeed, pitifully so.
"I doubt arrows and blades are coming this way. My distraction should have covered our exit most effectively, leaving us in the clear, as it were. I do agree that we should proceed towards this fort, post haste. A more secure location, with stout walls and a stocked armory seem like a good start on our journey."
Gadron looks around at the blasted land of the battlefield, squinting at the desolation.
"A better one than this place, at any rate."
It takes about half an hour to dig a shallow grave for the child, deep enough to protect the body from the predations of the ravens. Nidal carefully binds Yorek in his cloak, then deposits the bundle in the newly dug trench. Meanwhile, some of the group collect stones to pile on top, and it takes another half an hour to build the cairn.
At the end, Nidal drops to his knees at the head of the grave.
"Бул баланы бата. ага кам көрөм, демек, аны. бул кичинекей дүйнө аркылуу жол кыска болот. Биз жылдыздардын арасына жана кудайларынын үйүндө түбөлүк бар. Менин көз жашымды алыскы асманга алып келиши мүмкүн."
He falls silent briefly, then stands, suddenly seeming far older and more tired than he had before.
"Let us move on," he says.
===
As the evening draws in, Nidal leads the group along a track through the forest. It's nearly dusk when they arrive at a set of three caves, cut into the rocks.
As the party approach, there's another human voice.
"Who goes there? Friend or foe?"
Watching the burial with some discomfort, Artaruk does not talk much during the journey. The forest, preventing him from seeing very far with undergrowth, bushes and trees, does little to improve his mood, with his head bolting left and right, scanning for ambushes.
When they arrive at the caves, he seems to relax, and when the voice calls out, he shouts back: "Tricky question, there. Because that would vastly depend on who _you_ are, would it not?", Artaruk points at Nidal for any hidden observers. "If you are who Nidal thinks you ought to be, there's no reason for bloodshed between us."
"To clarify, we are enemies of those trollkin who have taken the village," Rahadur adds, his warm, dry voice seeming at odds with the darkness and cold.
Kinnith helps with the grave and burial, but seems a little uncomfortable with the intimacy of being present for the man's words over the grave afterwards.
He is silent through the journey.
At the greeting voice, he stops and looks about for its origin. At the minotaur's response, he chews his lip. That retort might get us killed.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Gadron remains calm and quiet, waiting for their escort to introduce the group.
"Perhaps we allow our guide to speak? I imagine his face and voice will allay further hostilities."
Nish casts around, trying to ascertain where the voice is coming from
"Speak up Nidal, time to help us now.
Sloppy, too sloppy. Got lazy. Should have been looking ahead. Got to stay alive now, got to get back.
Horvan too looks to Nidal to respond.
Nidal nods at the others "I recognise the voice, can't quite place it but he's not from round here," he hisses to the group.
Then he addresses the source of the voice:
"I'm Nidal, from Nargental. Caught outside when the trollkin struck. These gentles rescued me ... and, well, my boy."
The male voice doesn't answer immediately; instead an female voice, apparently excited to hear Nidal, calls from within the cave.
"Нидал! Нидал! Бул Sigred экен! Annolin жана Tyrrea бул жерде да. Эмне тынчсыздандырган жок, ал коопсуз болот, бирок биз жардам кыла алмак."
Nidal turns back to the party. "It's Sigred, one of the women of the village. She says there are a couple of others in there as well. And she says it's safe."
A male dwarf emerges from the darkness. When he speaks, it's apparent that he was the one who first called the warning.
"It sounds like the women can vouch for you. My name is Duminac. We're sheltering in the cave here. You can come join us if you wish."
Nidal obviously recognises the dwarf, but his reaction betrays his displeasure at meeting the creature. Nevertheless, he motions the group forward.
Rahadur nods at the dwarf. "Thank you," he says, entering where indicated. "Nidal has told us something of your plight. We shall see if it be possible for us to aid you."
"Greetings, Sir Dwarf. My name is Gadron Delboriel. I and my comrades are new here in this land, and would greatly appreciate allies and shelter."
Gadron bows to the dwarf, looking over him and past into the sheltered area.
"Yes, aid you, certainly"
Nish scampers in in Rahadur's shadow
""
As he enters the cave he keeps his eyes flitting around, looking for danger. He is not comfortable here, and is not hiding the fact.
The cave is quite large. Inside, lying on rough blankets, are two women, both relatively young. A further woman, of a similar age, stands near the mouth of the cave, behind the dwarf. About half a dozen sheep are penned in at the back of the cave, and a couple of children play there. On a stool by the pen sits a male huginn, holding a mandolin. As the group enters, the raven-man gets down from the stool and carefully puts the mandolin on the ground before moving over to greet the party.
Nidal glances grimly to the group. "This," he gestures to the standing woman, "this is Sigred. On the ground, over there, are Annolin and Tyrrea. The children are Clenna and Varro. You've met Duminac. And over there," he nods in the direction of the huginn, "is Svaka."
"It would appear few of the locals made it past the scaly kind siege. Perhaps you can tell us what happened? Any information might prove valuable to our survival."
Gadron keeps the distaste from his face as he takes a seat on the rocks and dirt of the cave.
"We have heard tell of a fort nearby. Perhaps we start there with the information? "
Artaruk takes note of the woman as he enters the cave, his eyes lingering on them a moment too long before gazing at the children. He nods grimly: "Woman and children here. That means their warriors did their job."
When the Elf already asked the important questions, Artaruk leans at a nearby wall, listening to the explanation while watching the children play.
Horgan eyes the dwarf closely as he moves into the cave with the rest of the group, trying to see if he shows any signs of a recent fight or is wounded. We have only just arrived. Horvan explains. Still we killed a few of the enemy before coming here.
"What happened?"
How did these people come to be here? What game are the gods playing?
-Posted with Wayfinder
Nish moves into the cave proper and, having got his bearings, pushes further in without being invited, running his claws along the rock wall.
"You are escapees from the nasty folk at the town? Who are they then that would sell slaves to the empire? Would put their betters in chains?"
Rahadur, recognizing that these people will probably not appreciate being bombarded with questions all at once, stays silent for the moment, waiting for their replies.