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Samant is heading to dinner at Brother Dumpling's cart.
Galrian walks along the road on his own thoughts. The loud voice from his stomach interrupts him and warns him about his empty stomach. Dinner time is approaching and feeling hungry after a long journey, but knowing that he would soon reach the city. so, so... soon will eat some delicious soup and beer on top of that. Need also to warm my legs, damn rheumatism again aching my legs muttering to himself.
After a while, Galrian smells something nice, little bit unfamiliar to most of the other smells he had encountered during his adventures. Trying to locate the source of smell, he begins to walk to the place he thinks to be the direction towards the food.
The trees hung thickly overhead and their trunks surrounded the low hillock on which the young man stood. Masao was drenched in sweat and his hakama was damp up to mid-calf from the wet grass. He held the unfamiliar curved blade at arm’s length, his shoulder aching from the weight and strange balance of the scimitar. He hadn’t held a proper katana in his hand for years. The strange weapons of this land still felt alien in his grip. He turned slowly, weapon swirling to confront an imaginary foe to his other side. As he went through the rote movements of the kata, he felt his mind clear of troubles and thoughts that plagued him, but a sudden sound interrupted his reverie.
The jangle of chains, the crack of a whip and a muffled scream brought him to a sudden halt. He sheathed his sword and grabbed his kimono from a low branch where he had hung it and slipped it on, tucking it into his hakama. Masao was no master of stealth, but the sounds were all too familiar to him. He didn’t like to remember the time he spent as a captive of slavers as a child, but the sounds brought it all back in a flash of memories. He crept forward, using the trees as cover and he saw the slave caravan passing by at the bottom of the hill he stood on. He was too well hidden for them to spot, but he was afraid to move for fear of drawing their attention.
When the last of them had passed, he was torn between trying to free the slaves himself or getting help first. He could handle one or two guards, maybe even three or four, but this caravan was too well guarded for one man alone to take out the entire cadre of guards and slavers. He definitely needed help. He thought immediately of his friends Hob and Samant back in town… maybe others as well if such could be rounded up quickly enough.
When the slave caravan had passed sufficiently that he could move unheard, he ran back toward town. Masao needed to get help... and quickly.
Brother Dumpling's food cart, he thought, if Hob and Samant were anywhere to be found, surely I can find one or both of them there.
Masao runs like the wind, but even for a young man, such exertion comes with a price, and he has to stop from time to time to catch his breath... It didn't seem like such a long way on my way OUT of town, he thinks.
Masao finally could see the edges of Piren’s Bluff coming into view ahead. He was completely winded, but so close to his goal, he didn’t want to stop again. He pushed on past the burning lungs and aching muscles to arrive in town, such as it was. The place was so small, barely a village, but it was home for the time being, at least until he could get another job with an outbound caravan. But now it was his only goal… to get into the center of town and find Brother Dumpling’s food stand.
He ran on, until he saw the diminutive cook at his stand ahead… Praise Desna, luck was with him… He could see Samant walking up to Brother Dumpling’s stand. Someone else was there as well… someone he didn’t know – an old man… Unfortunately, Hob wasn’t there… he’d have to go find his friend, a little magic might go far to help defeat these slavers and free their cargo.
Masao ran up to the cart and nearly collapsed. He was so exhausted from running nearly the three miles back from where he’d seen the slavers. He panted heavily, leaning on the cart, tried to explain to Samant what was going on.
”Sam, help… raiders… slavers.. (pant) south of town (pant) (pant) Need help, stop them, (pant) free slaves...” He continues to breathe heavily while he watches Samant for his reaction. Finally he catches his breath a little. ”I’ve got to find Hob, he can help us… and I need to get my armor.”
Masao’s deep brown eyes scan over to Arwen, the old man, for a moment and he takes in the sight of what looks to be an old traveler… maybe a peddlar? he thinks, though he carries no goods if he is one. Well, it’s always wise to honor one’s elders. Best be polite,. ”Hello, venerable one, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. Please take no offense.”
Arwen had arrived after some time to front of a food cart or at least looked like one. The smells and ingredients were delicious and soon Arwen was drooling. Aah, pray for the Shelyn. The lovely food and lovely smell of them. Truly it is another day to be happy and appreciate what we have. Arwen mumbles with his eyes closed as he falls to the wonderful world of smells.
Ordering five dumplings and eating them happily and then recognizing what it was Tian is it? I was sure I had seen one of these before... also the smell was familiar... oh, this bring some memories from Magnimar.. he speaks with his mouth full of dumpling and traveling in his mind back to younger days.
Turning to gaze this strange young man, running as he had fire on his pants...that would be funny hehe, why rushing like that I wonder
Arwen's eyes spread as he listened this man explanation as he panted heavily from the running. Turning to him as he politely speaks to him ”Hello, venerable one, I didn’t mean to interrupt your meal. Please take no offense.”
Well, well, aren't you a polite one. No offense taken and no need to apologize. What is this talk about slavery and raiders here? Arwen asks while his left eyebrow rises up and intriguing look appears on his face. I happen to be a cleric of Shelyn and this crisis seems to utmost importance now... definitely an act we can not overlook.
Looking at distance dwelling on his thoughts, he snaps and look at the eyes of this young man Arwen, name is Arwen Hollower. I will join you and offer my strength and wisdom to help you in your quest. Love is indeed powerful and no one is unreachable from the hands of fate... love has many forms in the end speaking in the end to himself in a mystical way.
Slightly built and standing only 5’2”, Masao looks up at the older man quizzically, then smiles. ”A priest of Shelyn? Your help would indeed be most welcome. I saw a slave caravan skirting around south of town about 3 miles out. I came back to town; there were too many for me to handle alone. Samant here is strong and a good fighter. I was hoping to find my friend Hob as well.” He stops chattering long enough to take a deep breath. ”They weren’t moving too fast, I’m sure we could catch up to them, maybe even pass and ambush them.”
”Oh, I’m Masao. I’m honored to meet you, Arwen-sama. I’ve got to run and get my armor… and find Hob to join us. We can all meet back here at Brother Dumpling’s cart, ok?” He doesn’t really wait for an answer. He just motions for Arwen to stay here as he flips a coin to the cook and grabs a dumpling on his way out. With his stamina restored after a brief respite (ah to be young), Masao runs off in the direction of his lodgings to grab his gear and find this one he keeps referring to as Hob.
Stands agape at Masao's deceleration.
Then watches Masao take off before he is able to voice a reply... as per usual.
Masao gets back to his meager lodgings. Staying in the small inn in town was out of his budget, but he could just afford to sleep in the stable in exchange for a little work and a small payment. Still, it was home for the time being. He pulls his studded leather jacket off its peg and slips it on with some distaste, not liking the feel of the heavy leather. Still it was safer to wear it than not, he'd learned that since coming to Golarion for sure.
His haramaki just wasn't enough protection, especially if he was going to face armed caravan guards. Masao gets the rest of his gear just in case. I can always drop it if I need to fight he thinks, but better to have it along and not need it, than to need it and not have it.
The young man leaves a note near his 'lodgings', just in case Hob stops by, and slips out of the stable. He takes one last look around for any sign of Hob, then sighs and heads back to the dumpling cart. It IS dinnertime and one dumpling wasn't enough anyway.
Still buckling his armored jacket on as he walks up, he arrives back at the cart. He drops his small bundle of belongings on the ground and buys a few more dumplings as he nods a hello to Arwen and Samant.
"So now what is going on? Slavers? Here? How is this possible?"
Masao finishes buckling on his studded jacket and stands eating his dumplings as he starts speaking in a rush. ”Yes, Sam, I saw them myself… mmm these are good… anyway… there were a lot of them, guards and slavers driving a group of captives south of town. I think they were skirting Piren’s Bluff to avoid being spotted, but they were headed back toward the road. Probably heading to Cheliax, since there's no market for slaves in Andoran that I know of."
"There were far too many for one person alone to deal with… Anyway, I wonder where Hob has gotten to. I think his magic will be very helpful in dealing with these slavers.” He finishes off the last of the dumplings with a flourish.
”I guess I didn’t make proper introductions though… Samant, this is Arwen, a priest of Shelyn, and he’s offered his help as well. Sam, you should get your armor and weapons and meet us back here. The sooner we go after those slavers, the better.”
Masao sat cross-legged on the ground near where Brother Dumpling was closing up his food stand for the night. He pulled out his whetstone and began sharpening his sword for the coming conflict. He shivered slightly, but not from the encroaching chill of evening. The memories were plaguing him of a 7-year-old child orphaned by disease and picked up by slavers who meant to sell him to the highest bidder. They hadn’t been particularly cruel to him, but neither were they gentle or nice. His memories of that brief time were spotty at best. Cold, wet, hungry, thirsty… he remembered the discomforts of that short time. Two weeks or so… maybe three, he wasn’t sure any more but it had seemed interminable at the time, with no hope for a future other than what they proffered for him.
And yet, there had been a bright moment when a single warrior with a blade that shone like sunlight charged into the slavers’ camp. He was so fast and powerful, wielding the sword and magic together with such speed and skill. Slavers and guards alike were slain… those who didn’t run, that is. It was over quickly and the slaves were freed. Most of them were adults, or whole families who had been taken. Masao was the only child alone among the slaves. As they slowly dispersed under the watchful eye of the warrior who had rescued them, ostensibly to go back to their homes, Masao was left standing alone.
He shivered again as he recalled how alone he felt standing there. The warrior clapped him on the shoulder and asked about his family. He recalled feeling numb as he told the man they were all dead. He had wept all the tears he had for them already. He had no place to go. The warrior set about burying the dead slavers and Masao fell in to help him without being asked. When the task was done, the warrior simply walked away. Masao followed.
He wasn’t sure if he was welcome to follow, but he didn’t ask. He simply did it. For a day and a half he followed the warrior, who spoke not a word to him, but silently shared his food and water with the boy. Finally they arrived at a small shack in the wilderness. Masao recalled being given a mat to sleep on and a meal that first night. It was three days before the warrior spoke to him.
He simply introduced himself as Hiro and gave Masao tasks to complete. They started small, these tasks – gathering wood, fetching water – but they soon grew to more complex chores. It wasn’t more than a couple of weeks before Hiro had told him he was to be an apprentice and began to train him.
But Masao knew he was no Hiro. He wasn’t ready to take out a caravan of slavers on his own, despite his 7 years of intense training in Ten’no Tsurugi-ryu, his master’s art of combining fighting and magic. Still, he had to do what he could to free these slaves.
The help of friends was essential. Samant was a big, strong warrior with the heart of a scholar. He would be probably better at this than Masao was. Hob, the crafter, had magics at his disposal that could be lethal to the slavers and guards. And this venerable priest, Arwen-sama, was a follower of the Lady of Chrysanthemums. He must have powers from her that would help free the slaves. Such a thing as slavery must be an abomination to Shelyn.
Could just the four of us handle the guards and slavers I saw earlier today? He pondered this thought as he sat waiting… In the end, he decided, it just didn’t matter. We have to try!
Now trying to do little reconnecting till masao comes back
Turning to Samantha as Masao disappears, Arwen smiles Indeed seems to be the case now. Not sure what is going now, excuse this old man, but seems like we will wait for 1 person more. The slavers then, hm.. most likely pirates or some other freebooters who are trying to achieve gold with their little tricks. Anyway, as I promised I will help you people with releasing the slaves and stopping the slavers. Love is universal and it also includes to love everyone no matter who they are... but have you ever heard of a story how love can turn to be a wrath and power in need? All those kidnapped villagers have someone they love, someone they miss and cry for freedom. Love is also accepting the inevitable... love your enemy like you would love your family. he continues to speak as he picks up a rock from the ground and show it to samantha Love is like this small stone. It starts in a small form but its hard. Time passes and soon it is like an ocean, washing the shores and touching everyone around it. How does this all come together and it is not just blabbering of old fool?
Arwen looks at the stone and release it and the stone doesn´t fall but instead floats in the air and slowly decent on the ground I am simply just a captain in a ship, who rides on the ocean, guiding those people who are sailing on it. There is a shore, where people gather and start their journey on this sea. My duty is to guard and see that they are save. The stone is just something we bring along us, in our heart. That stone is something those pirates now stole..
now I am a bit confused even myself and have no idea what I am rambling ahaha as Arwen burst to laugh and watches to the distance and finally again at Samantha but love is strong and the blessing of Shelyn is upon us with this. I am now destined to walk with you and others to free these kidnapped people and show that love is stronger than anything else...
Clang
and now the rest stroke
Clang
and now one more time, hard - but precise
Clang
and rest. Check the piece, is it right?
Clang
Yes. Stop.
Sweating like a pig in his leathers from the heat of the forge Hob picked up his latest work with the tongs and carefully lowered it into the murky water. The hiss of steam had the strange tang of the minerals he had mixed with it. Minerals that should, if he'd done everything right, protect the blade from rust and wear.
Transferring the still warm blade to his hand, Hob turned it critically. He'd had to make horseshoes for three days to get the materials and use of the forge to make it - it had to be perfect.
The balance was right, the runes were correctly placed, the sheen was the way Masao had described it...
He tapped it gently on the anvil and held it to his ear.
Sick. The tone was sick. Just slightly, just on the edge... but sick. The technique he tried might work on dagger like this test blade, but on a full sword it would, eventually, cause the blade to shatter.
All his hard work and frustration welled up inside him. He started cursing, then screaming, then kicked the bag of horseshoes over, then took the blade, raised it high above the anvil and screaming incoherently brought it blade first down upon...
No.
No, Masao would need to see this. Maybe he could explain what had gone wrong.
At the last moment the blade was flung aside, embedding itself into the wall, and Hob's palm came down empty upon the Anvil.
Twelve hours work. Three long days before that. He'd barely eaten lunch lest the blade cool too much.
Ravenously hungry he packed up his belongings, left the horseshoes for the Master, and walked into town to get some food and find Masao.
"Hey! Dumpling!" Hob somehow found the energy to push himself forward as the old man closed up shop
"Hold! Hold! I want Food!"
Running now, backpack bouncing on his back, pickaxe flying in his left hand as his arms pistoned wildly, he careened equally wildly towards the cart.
Leaping some half seen obstacle in his way, he came down on a patch of gravel, one booted foot slipping out from under him, the pickaxe coming down with his whole strength and weight behind it as he swung wildly to catch his balance.
Thunk! The pickaxe was now embedded a foot and a half in the ground near Masao's leg.
Hob pulled himself up to a standing position, quickly fishing something out of his belt
"Masao!" He grinned cheerfully "Don't move - I have something to show you. Here!"
Handing the dagger hilt first to Masao and slipping out of his backpack, he staggered to where the shocked Brother Dumpling was standing, holding out a shiny silver piece.
"All the food this'll buy, Dumpling. Whatever you've got. I'm starving!"
Turning back to Masao he noticed the other figures nearby
"What's up?"
Masao came out of his reverie and started to leap to his feet as he caught sight of the pickaxe windmilling it’s way toward him… He barely started moving before the axeblade imbedded itself mere inches from his leg. He looked up at Hob with a half-blank expression and with a dazed ”Huh?”
He rose to his feet and handed Hob the errant pickaxe. ”Hob! Where have you been? “ It was a stupid question he realized as he took the dagger from Hob and examined it. ”I see you’ve been at the forge again, I should have known. Stupid of me not to have thought of that. This is really good work. You’re getting better! Soon you’ll be making master crafted blades, that you will. I’m no smith, but I think your folding technique is getting better, too.”
”Anyway Hob, I was looking for you because I saw a slave caravan passing by outside of town a few miles away. I thought if we’re going to stop this horror, your magic might come in handy. Samant here is coming, as is Arwen… Oh I’m sorry, Hob, this venerable old one is Arwen, a priest of Shelyn. Arwen-sama, this is my friend Hob.”
”They weren’t moving too fast but their travel was steady. Still, I think we can catch them up. What do you think, Hob? Are you in?”
I'll return shortly... also must remember my notes, and my quills... and my ink pots... and... I better just go
Samant takes it all in for a moment and then bolts to grab his armor and cudgel. For someone that claims he's a scholar he's built like an athlete, running a bit faster then the average person until he puts on his bulky hide armor. The only way you could tell by casual observation of his profession is the ever present ink stains on his fingers and smeared on his face in a moment of thought where he absently brushed at his face.
In his haste he almost bowls over several passerby, stammering apologies as he gains stride.
Samant returns wearing some hide armor and carrying a large wooden cudgel, basically a tree branch that has been treated to maintain it's hardness.
Nods to Hob, Arwen, and Masao.
I believe I am ready for this endeavor
Nodding and stretching his arms, Arwen looks at everyone and nods It appears that we are ready, so we might as well start to move... my bones are aching for some moving and smiles
Masao doesn't wait for Hob to answer, just assumes he will join in the venture. Hob's never been one to turn down a good fight where he can use his magic to right a wrong. He'll come.
"Let's be off then... they were already a few miles down the road when I saw them, so we've got some catching up to do. But they weren't moving too fast, either. We should discuss our strategy along the way. I saw maybe a dozen guards, some mounted, but none particularly well-outfitted, maybe 20 or 25 captives in their possession. I'm wishing I had a bow right now, missiles might come in handy. Still, I'm sure we can take them if we're cautious.
He looks to the others and frowns slightly... then continues, "Do you think we should stalk them from behind, split up and take them from their flanks, pass them and confront them head on, or maybe wait til they camp and ambush them while they're not mounted? Well, something to think about while we follow them. You know, it's already late, they're likely to have stopped for the night by the time we catch up to them."
Begins to move with Masao, "Historically smaller numbers do better against larger forces when they can control the battlefield. If they've bedded down for the night we can take out sentries when they are at their sleepiest. If they press on through the night we can pick off the outriders before striking at the main caravan. That or go for the shock and awe tactics of just rushing in and confusing the forces with a quick show of overwhelming force like they did during the battle of... " Samant trails off looking embarrassed as he realize he has begun to ramble
"Sam, I like how you think, though I'm not sure we have the numbers to try to overwhelm them by force when they are all still awake and aware. I kind of like the idea of taking out sentries while they sleep.... IF they stop to sleep.
The party heads south in the direction of the slavers. They are easy enough to follow, since they took the road. A few miles south of town, you see, off to the west, the glow of a campfire.
Masao pauses when the campfire is spotted, whispers to the others, "Looks like they stopped for the night... Shall we try to get closer and get a look at their layout and defenses? Who's good at sneaking?"
Arwen grunts as he looks at the fire glowing and thinking best method to advance Me, certainly not. Some of you younger ones can go and do it. I will then give my help... aiding the sneaker with my own way and grin appears to his face.
Air begin to gather around Arwen and the others can feel how the air around them is being suck toward the cleric and slowly forming a visible air currents around his body as he looks at others to find out who will go
It's not my strong suit but I can attempt if need be. Samant shrugs obviously nervous.
"I'm not much for sneaking either, especially in this armor, but I'll try it if I have to." He looked at Samant with an equal shrug and a soft cough that could be an embarrassed chuckle, then nodded at Arwen. "Your help could spell the difference between success and failure. Can you aid us both and we'll sneak in from different directions?"
Arwen nods to Masao´s question Yes, that is not a problem for me. Me and Hob could follow you two after a while to ensure that if something happens, we are close-by then. and as he speaks the air begins twirl again faster. As he stretch both his hands forward, palms pointing to sky, his both hands begin to gather the air and forming small whirlpools.
Moving closer to Masao and Samanth, Arwen touches both of them and the whirling air suddenly jumps out of his hands, closing both Samanth and Masao inside the air. In the darkness, both appearance melts little bit as like connecting with the shadow or just reflecting the surroundings, making them hard to see. May the bless of Shelyn be with you
"Ok, Arwen-sama, I'll try this... if they spot me, I'm sure you'll hear an outcry. I'll try to draw them to the east, give the rest of you a chance to come in from the west and see if you can defeat the remainder and free those slaves. I'll keep them running as long as I can. Wish me luck."
He waited then for whatever assistance Arwen can offer before slipping off toward the slavers' camp. Masao tried to move as silently as he can as he moved forward, though it was obvious even to the most untrained eye that sneaking was NOT his forte. He moved with his blade already drawn, ready for any problem that might arise... though he kept the blade down at his side to avoid an unfortunate reflection of light off its surface.
Samant will attempt to sneak around the west side.
Sneaking in closer, Masao tries to get a look at their sentries, how far out of camp they range, and so forth. He remains ever ready to take out a lone sentry, if an opportunity arises to do so.
2 Sentries perception rolls:
(roll-low light)
Not wanting his friends in trouble by themselves, Hob closes to 50ft away, trying to remain silent.
Samant will try and close with the sentry to take him down quick.
Neither sentry has noticed Masao or Samant. Here is the map.
There are four slavers sitting on the ground around the fire, one of whom is obviously better equipped. Two sentries, one on the West and one on the East, stand around nonchalantly. The slaves are packed together just southwest of the fire, with one slaver near them.
When Hob moves towards the fire, he steps on a twig. The slaver on the East turns sharply towards the noise, but does not see either Samant or Hob.
Masao, seeing Samant closing in one sentry, will attempt to do the same to the other sentry, taking the man by surprise, if he can.
Arwen looks from further behind the fire and trying to track down his companions. Moving after Hob and staying little bit further from him to not reveal them.
As he moves, Arwen begins chanting and casts Guidance on himself
Stealth untrained dex
Using the trees as cover, Masao moves in close to the sentry nearest him, trying to strike him down quietly with a single attack...
Seeing the sentry become alert Samant will rush in (i.e. charge)and try to catch the sentry unawares before he can call out.
Hob quietly pricks his thumb on his dagger and activates the rune of agility on his boot.
Trying desperately not to step on another twig, a hunched over Hob slowly advances on the sentry, when to his surprise scholar Samant bolts past him!
Masao and Samant swoop in on the sentries in near perfect unison, both connecting firmly and felling their enemies. The slavers around fire, hearing their comrades fall, scramble to their feet, grabbing their weapons from the ground beside them. Only the leader has his armor on.
Initiative
Masao:
Samant:
Hob:
Arwen:
Slaver 1:
Slaver 2:
Slaver 4:
Slaver 6:
Slave Driver 7: