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Imon had another arrow drawn, and was ready to loose it when Warren ordered the taking of prisoners. "Round them up?" He said, clearly irritated. "Why? How do you suppose we get this lot back to the fortress while still able to defend ourselves? And how will we protect the civilians from these ruffians when we get back?" The bow was no longer drawn, but it was clear that he could take the shot at the survivors at any moment.
When he saw the demon wrangler trying to retake control, Imon paused, wondering if he should direct his arrows at the beast or the man with the leash. If the demon was allowed to run free, it would likely do most of their work for it in killing the bandits. On the other hand, Imon's allies seemed to be making short work of them anyway, and he didn't know how much it would take to kill the beast. He also considered moving, so as not to shoot through the barrier, but he wasn't sure there would be so good a vantage point anywhere else, and the bandits seemed in disarray anyway. In the end, he took two more shots at the beast.
"That just means kill it first to me." Imon called out, moving his aim toward the large figure. He readied and fired two arrows at it.
Imon trudged along quietly, focused more on making his way over the rocks than paying attention to the conversation. As he went along, his thoughts turned to this whole expedition. It was very much not what he'd expected. He had planned to pick off bandits one by one out here, without help or support. How he'd planned to do that without any particular skill in survival or stealth, he hadn't thought through, but that had been the plan. He wasn't looking to get involved in any plot to reclaim the Stolen Lands, and certainly not to make deals with monsters, literal or figurative. Andreai's call snapped him out of his reverie, and he began paying attention to the surroundings again. Finally, he decided to add to the conversation. "Was that what you were expecting?" He asked, talking about the quest for the seed and it's ultimate result. The question was mostly for Stellan, Anwel and Warren, as they'd seemed the most knowledgeable about the subject.
Without much talk, Imon prepared for the bit of sleep he was going to get. He'd never liked the middle watch, it always left him feeling drained, but that was the lot he'd drawn, so he wasn't going to complain.
"Did we not tell Vrag to head for the hills when we parted company with him?" After a pause, Imon added, "Perhaps that was simply what I wished to say."
"We should take her with us." Imon said suddenly. "If we are being pursued by our enemies, then it would be the height of foolishness to leave her in our wake. Thad is a fine warrior, but I doubt he could protect this place from a group of any decent size."
Imon was somewhat less patient than Andrei. Perhaps it was that in dealing with criminals, giving them time to answer meant giving them time to draw a weapon, but he didn't much like having conversation going on that he couldn't understand. "What is she asking? He said, his eyes shifting from Anwel to Warren. "What are you saying?"
Imon's eyes went wide at the sight of the ice covered girl. Watching the others, it made him all the more envious that they seemed to know what was going on. Without thinking, ho removed his cloak, the one he'd left Restov with, and offered it to Stellan, saying "Give her this. But what is all of this? What is the seed? What is Erastil's daughter and why is she encased in ice? I came here to fight bandits, I've never heard of things such as this."
Imon watched curiously, wondering what exactly was going on. Stellan seemed to have agreed to something, but Imon wasn't sure exactly what. He wondered if the witch knew much better. "What does all that mean, then? You aren't going to have to stay here, are you?"
Imon watched the man with concern, desperately trying to make out his words. When he was done, Imon couldn't help but unleash a torrent of questions, starting with "What? What happened to you? How did you come to be here, and a bear? What is this place?" He realized as he spoke that he was likely asking too much, but still, he had to know.
Imon followed Andrei, wondering allowed what he'd found. "Where is it? I am curious to know what it is we've been seeking."
Imon stopped himself from releasing another arrow when the bear began to change. He couldn't help but lower the bow in awe as it transformed into a man. Imon approached, slowly moving closer after training the bow on the man again. "Well, I've never seen that happen before." He looked at the others before shifting his focus back to the man on the ground, "Does anyone want to poke him or something. To see if he's still alive?"
I'm looking forward to our next level gain so I can get Precise Shot. . .
Imon said nothing, trying to focus only on lining up his shots and sending them toward the bear's heart. He took extra time to line up the shot, and as a result only fired one arrow, for fear of hitting his allies.
Imon released the arrow, firing it at the bear and quickly launching another.
Imon drew back his arrow, ready to fire, but not wanting to draw the attention of the monstrous bear. "I think a fight is unavoidable."
Imon readied his bow, keeping an eye out for the likely monstrous bear. "Perhaps it would be best if we were to focus our efforts on how to subdue the creature before we worry about its intent. Erastil is a god of hunters after all, perhaps as long as we don't waste-" He went silent at the sound of the breaking branch and turned his head toward the sound, expecting the worst.
As they hiked down into the valley, Imon couldn't help but notice the exit on the opposite side, and he also couldn't help but draw conclusions about it. When they stopped, he decided to share. "There's another path down into the valley, over there." He said, pointing at the other side of the valley. "It's an easier trip down over there, and it looks like the rocks have been carved into stairs in places. Between that and all the talk of bones, I'm not so sure I like this place."
Imon was clearly impressed by the sights of the valley, so much so that he seemed to be distracted from keeping watch. "I wonder if there are any other ways into this place," He said, considering the possibilities.
"I am all right. I suppose I can stand watch." Imon said as he proceeded to do just that.
Imon waited for everyone else to go first, and then backed into the new tunnel behind them with an arrow nocked and pointed upward, watching for the return of the mobats.
Imon fired on the scarred beast, as Stellan had pointed out. "I can't see anything, what's causing the rocks to fall? He said as he readied the shots.
Imon had more difficulty dodging the stones this time, but still managed without a scratch. Imon was surprised by Anwel's question, he'd just assumed that such things were not out of the ordinary. "I had presumed it had something to do with the bats," He called out. "What could do something like this?"
Imon kept his wits about him as the rocks fell, but doing so required that he kept his eyes above him, and oblivious to anything but falling stones.
Imon took another two shots before he noticed his injury. He'd felt the bat's claws rake across him, but he hadn't given it much thought until then. With the realization of his wound, along came the pain. He cursed loudly, mixed with a groan. He felt a strong desire to retreat, but where could he flee to?
Imon stepped forward, in sync with Gorax's notions of keeping their most fragile and possibly,Imon hated to admit, most valuable member in the back. He grabbed an arrow and fired it at the nearest beast, and with practiced precision did the same thing a second time.
Imon turned to see what Warren was talking about, and then turned away in disgust. "Ugh, I don't think I've ever heard of that regarded as 'water of life'.
"I'm not so concerned about what something like that would eat, so much as if there are more of them. Keep watching, if there are more around here, that screech would surely have alerted them. Imon made good on his orders, his eyes scanning all around them, especially upward.
Imon fired again, hoping the beast would go down before any others of its like were alerted. The last thing they needed was to fight a legion of bats on a ledge like this.
Like Gorax, Imon just watched and waited, lining up the shot against the last place he'd seen the beast.
Imon gritted his teeth through the bat's shriek, wondering if he'd ever hear like he had before this moment. As soon as he'd regained composure, he searched the air for the slightest hint of a slightly blacker silhouette of the creature above them. As he aimed, he couldn't help but offer a quiet chuckle, "So that's what 'unbelievably large' means? I believe I owe that man a b- a silver or two." Imon said, amending himself so as not to set off the man who seemed offended by the very concept of alcohol.
Imon fired on the first movement he noticed (if any), grabbing another arrow in record time and sending it forward along with the first.
With the memory returning to him, Imon suddenly drew his bow and nocked an arrow, aiming it upward. He wondered if the beast Vrag could see in the dark, perhaps that was the true reason he'd remained outside, that he knew what sorts of creatures the group would be attacked by. "An old man told me a story about a place like this once. Long story short, watch out for bats, very large bats."
Deciding to shed some proverbial, and not so proverbial light on the situation. He bent to pick up a stone from the ground and said a few words to it. He held it high over his head when it began to glow, hoping to get a better view of the surroundings. If he couldn't see a way to move on, he would hurl it straight ahead as far as he could, in hopes of at least seeing how far the hole went down.
Imon looked disappointed, as though he had been something far greater than what had happened. "I don't get it," He said, incredulous. "Sure, it was clean, and tasted good, but I don't see what all the fuss is about. . ."
"Very well, I will try it. I know of no vendetta's against me, certainly none so strong as to tamper with the workings of the gods." Imon took the cup if it was offered again and drank from it, waiting with no small amount of fear for the results.
Imon raised his hands. "I don't know if I should. I don't know if the gods are envious, but I don't want to risk Abadar's wrath. Though I suppose that he and Erastil are of one mind on a great many things. . . He trailed off, but it seemed clear that he was waiting to be convinced, and that it likely wouldn't take much.
Imon watched the proceedings with wide eyes. He knew one thing for certain, he would not be drinking from the cup. He didn't know if anything bad would happen to him, but he didn't want to take chances. [b]"What do you mean, it was warded for you? You mean that she came here and cursed this thing, just for your benefit?"
"Indeed," Imon said, nodding in approval to Gorax's comments. "His unworthiness goes down to his blood. Though he has been a useful guide, assuming this path does not lead us into a trap." He added, disapproval strong in his voice.
Imon's eyes widened for a moment, wondering what the druid was referring to. He hoped not what he thought. "You think he doesn't fear Stellan's 'curse'? Then what reason does he have to not run to his masters and tell them where we are? We should have killed him before we parted ways!" Imon kept his voice at a whisper, but it was clearly a struggle.
Imon handed his horse off without a word, just a mistrustful look that conveyed far more than words ever could. He readied his bow, and kept an eye out as he moved along. He stayed close to Stellan, knowing that the witch had missed traps before, and could use someone watching out for him.
"He surely does have an eye for detail. I'm sure it came in handy when watching for the optimal position to waylay travelers," Imon said, with no small amount of spite in his voice. Clearly Warren had a skewed sense of morality, but the others certainly should have known better than to accept the monster so easily, especially when he hadn't made a single gesture of repentance. He began preparing his gear for the night. "I suppose I will take second watch, with whoever chooses."
Imon followed Stellan's advice before it was even offered, dismounting his horse and leading it along the path. By some stroke of luck, the horse seemed to respond to him and followed his commands. "I'm looking forward to being back on more solid ground."
Imon smiled, if Vrag had nothing good to say about kobolds, well then that was a mark in their favor, as far as Imon was concerned. "Then I suppose that means that they are not tainted by undesirable company. If we are to build a coalition out of every beast, monster and thug capable of speech, then perhaps Kobolds would make a fine addition to it." It wasn't overly clear as to whether he was coming around to the plan, albeit snarkily, or if he was just mocking it.
"Are we truly debating whether or not we are heroes? It is a simple matter to determine. Either we succeed, tame this land and drive our enemies like dogs before us. In that case, we will likely be honored in Brevoy, and written about for as long as this area is civilized. I suppose then we will be considered heroes of a sort. The other option is that we fail, and likely are killed. In that case we will only be heroes to the carrion birds that feast on our flesh." All in all, Imon couldn't find much different between his opinion and Gorax's, though there was one big one: Gorax was a hero. It wasn't because he was on some epic quest , it was because he was doing what he was doing for family.
"That's a fine idea. I would suggest that we avoid anything more exotic than a dwarf, but even the humans out here aren't really trustworthy out here either. Though I'm not sure 'miniature dragon' really does them justice, now that I think of it." He trailed off, searching his memory for any useful information about kobolds, or the flowers Stellan had mentioned, for that matter.
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