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Sitting atop a flat shelf of rock overlooking a narrow canyon leading deeper into the mountains, a tall wooden palisade broken here and there by watchtowers surrounds the frontier town of Piren's Bluff. A keep of obvious antiquity watches over the town from the highest elevation, where rocky cliffs drop off to a ragged pass through the Aspodell mountains. Here is the gateway between the countries of Cheliax and Andoran, where one small fortress town stands between a nation of democracy, and the diabolic dictatorship of Cheliax under rule of house Thrune. Protected by stout stone walls and guard towers, this ancient bastion has long been the seat of power for the leaders of Piren's Bluff and protects this delicate western border of Andoran.
It is amidst the bright color of fall foliage starkly cast against the rough shades of mountain gray that a journey of untold distance begins. For the last few weeks, the town of Piren's Bluff has been inundated with more travelers than it typically sees in half a year. Mercenaries from across the continent of Avistan and their caravans have come to hold up in the fortress town at the request of one Gideon Hightower, a Chelish nobleman of little renown from a minor house. With the attitude towards Chelish in Piren's Bluff as welcoming as it is due to the Baron's disposition, Gideon and his entourage have been welcomed with open arms. The entirety of the town's only inn -- the Conquerer's Blade -- has been rented out by Lord Hightower to his troupe.
On the morning of the 16th, nearly two-thirds of Gideon's force left the city, armed and equipped, heading out to parts unknown at the request of their patron. To the handful within the expedition that were not invited along and had already arrived in Piren's Bluff, they know that group is the vanguard of Gideon's expeditionary force, set out to "clear the path" for the remaining researchers and soldiers, to set up way-points and blaze the trail ahead of the primary team. Led by a gunslinger from the distant Mana Wastes, this trailblazing team departed before most of Gideon's research team even arrived, and few were even made aware of their departure.
Now, thirteen days later the time for the primary research group to depart has come. Chill winds blow in from the north, carrying with them threats of winter's arrival earlier than last year. The skies are slate gray with clouds, and the vibrant foliage turned autumnal shades fall from their branches and blow on this breeze. Piren's Bluff batters down its hatches for approaching inclement weather, yet for some, a coming storm only means haste needs to be made...
For some journeys wait for no man.
Part I: The Caves of Steel
Far from the noise of the Conqueror's Blade, within the narrow, packed-earth streets of Piren's Bluff, a train of three wagons has been hitched together and supplies loaded onto the rear uncovered wagon. The front two, closed wooden wagons serve distinct purposes. The lead wagon being Lord Hightower's private means of conveyance, and the middle wagon a rolling alchemy lab and modest library to be used by the research team once they arrive at their destination. Outside of this wagon, on the quiet street, Liniza Quiane finalizes checks of her equipment, collections of chemicals and necessary reagents. Being the only professional alchemist on the trip, she has been given appointment to use the lab for the benefit of the expedition.
With just an hour pending before the team is to depart for the meeting site north of the town, tension is easy to feel set in, and the cold wind and darkening skies does little to dissuade that feeling.
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An empty, and seemingly useless, vial is tossed over to the side as Lyniza sighs, shaking her head. It seems most of her supplies - more than she had believed - are together and intact, and the lost of her compounds and extracts mixed for the day. Still, she feels restless as she sits in the lab, a hand on her chin. The air seems to weigh heavily on her for the moment, eyes drifting over to the harrow deck that sits at the edge of the temple. The thought of a quick consultation is tempting, but she has work to do for the moment.
Leaning over, she puts up the discarded vial. "How did you get so dirty, anyway?" she asks the open air, holding up close as she examines it. "You've hardly seen any use at all!" This time, it's tossed off into a wastebasket, and she flops back in her chair. "I'll be happy when we can get out of here," she mutters to herself.
Around the wagon workers load crates of wood and barrels of water, enough stores to last well more than a month. Gideon had given no real indication of just how long the expedition would take, and if the supplies he has planned to bring are any indication it looks as though he may try to last to the first snows, if not through them. Between the wagons, a tiny blue-black bird buzzes past Lyniza's head, then disappears between a pair of buildings and goes well out of sight. A few moments later, a short and dark-haired woman slips between two of the hitched up wagons, hauling an overstuffed satchel over one shoulder.
"Miss Quiane?" Uncertainty shows in her expression, brows furrowed together and pale blue eyes looking the alchemist up and down. "I'm Aribessa Montclaire, Gideon just told me that you're the other mechanical expert that was hired for the expedition?" Scuffing booted feet across the steps and into the back of the wagon-come-alchemy lab, Aribessa closes the distance between herself and Lyniza, offering out a leather-gloved hand. "I look forward to working with you on... ah..." One eye narrows slightly. "Whatever it is we're supposed to be finding up in those mountains."
Lyniza eyes shift to follow the bird as it buzzes by, but it's not until she hears her name that thoughts really return to the world around her. She blinks and tilts her head, watching with curiosity as Aribessa approaches. But once she introduces herself as the "other" mechanical expert, her eyes widen and she jumps up out of her chair. She takes Aribessa's hand and shakes it eagerly. "Oh! How wonderful," she says, flashing a smile at the other woman as she glances back down at the table. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
Hands rest on her hips for a moment as she steps back, affording the other woman more room. "I don't know if you've had the chance to look around in here, you're welcome to it. They've been nice enough t' let me use it, but I don't mind sharing it." She looks over at a shelf with a few books, then back. "Oh, good. I'm not the only one who has no idea exactly what we're looking for. I was a bit worried about that!"
Expression darkening for a moment, Aribessa shifts to something more of a wan smile as she climbs down onto the back step of the alchemy wagon. At this angle, Lyniza can see a battered, old musket slung around the young woman's back over one shoulder. "Gideon's nothing if not thourough, it seems." Peering into the wagon briefly through its open door, Aribessa chews at her bottom lip, then shifts to look down and ovcer to Lyniza. "We're leaving shortly, Gideon's rounding everyone up and told me to make sure you were here. He doesn't want anyone being left behind."
Drumming her fingers on the frame of the door, Aribessa draws in a slow breath through her nose, then exhales a sigh. "I've got to get a few things before we go. There'll be more time to talk when we reach the rendezvous site, I imagine. Probably plenty of time for questions, too." Hopping down off the back of the wagon, Aribessa wrinkles her nose, then dips her head into a curt nod.
"See you around."
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Outside of the walls of Piren's Bluff, on the rolling, grass-covered foothills of the Aspodell Mountains there is space; precious space, the crisp wind, soft grass and blood. Tracks of crimson glisten across patches of bare earth where grass refuses to grow. It was here the chase ended, and it is here where a member of Gideon's expedition enjoys the finer points of life from his perspective. Warm blood trickles down between long teeth and over gums and lips. Brown fur is matted down in mangled tufts between his molars, and one haunch of a rabbit is separated from the remainder of its body by a twist, pop and snap.
This is the Walker's way.
"Are there many hare in the Aspodell?" The question comes from an expected interruption. For all that Gideon Hightower believes he can approach unseen, Karrn knew he was approaching from the town, even if his eyes did not show him. HIs senses are honed keen enough not to need to rely simply on one.
Gideon's approach is slow and uneven, favoring one leg over the other and walking with a pronounced limp. He braces himself with a long, black-lacquered cane crowned with a snarling wolf's head gripped tightly in one hand. Clean-cut and well dressed in predominantly black with accents of red and gold, he stands out as the only man of Garundi ethnicity in all of Piren's Bluff. The question he asked, though, does not appear to be rhetorical if his arched brow is to be believed.
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"Enough for eating, if tribe can find other meat too." Karrn scrapes fur out from between his teeth with a claw. "Enough to make a good snack. Their hunt is less hare-y than finding something big that fights." He smiles hopefully at the lame pun. His scar makes the expression show more teeth than he intended, but he's obviously proud of his attempted wordplay much as a child is proud when they do something new.
Karrn leaves the remaining half of his prey for any scavengers lurking about and approaches his employer, scale mail clinking lightly at his odd, nearly all-fours gait. "Was not expecting you outside walls. Is talk needed?" The gnoll keeps his discomfort out of his voice and posture; he does not enjoy how long-winded many of the civilized folk are.
Gideon halts his approach, then shakes his head slowly. "I just came to find you and let you know we'll be leaving shortly. Most everyone is converging on the caravan, but I'll understand if you'd rather meet us at the gate..." Looking out to the fog-shrouded slopes of the mountains, then back to the gnoll's cast off meal, Gideon's expression shifts to something more serious. "We may need to take advantage of that abundance of game, should the time come. I don't know how long we'll need to be in the mountains to find what it is I'm looking for, but it feels like winter may be coming earlier this year than last..."
Dark brows furrow, and Gideon tucks his cane under one arm to adjust his gloves. "A vanguard team was sent out ahead of us," dark eyes make their way back over to Karrn's, "blunt instruments to ensure the worst is out of our way and to... keep the fire warm for us, so to speak. But that was weeks ago, and..." Gideon shakes his head, then clears his throat. "We can discuss that when we meet outside of the town. Is there anything else you need to do here," the foothills are motioned to with a sweeping gesture of Gideon's cane, "before we depart?"
Karrn shrugs. "Am ready to leave when others do." He looks at the town, yellow eyes glancing over its walls. "Will meet at gate. Do not want risking angry guards." Karrn tilts his head, listening to the wind, and turns to look off towards the mountains. "Yes, cold weather. Warm fires are good thing to have early-waiting. I can hunt for companions if needed. Not much different than helping pups through winter."
Likening the others to pups earns a smile from Gideon, even as his eyes divert to the blood on the ground and his brows tense visibly for a moment. "Yes..." he offers in a distracted tone of voice, turning back towards Piren's Bluff. "Keeping everyone well fed is a good priority, I can get rather sharp when I'm hungry, myself." With a limping gait, Gideon carries himself away from the gnoll, taking the time between here and the town to enjoy the cold air and the smells of fall, for there may not be time to appreciate life's smaller moments in the coming days.
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Closer to the gate of Piren's Bluff, a copse of tall pines and oaks lend muted shadows in the dim light of a cloudy morning. Beneath the fiery hues of autumnal leaves, another member of Gideon's expeditionary force rests in wait for the beginning of the journey. In these morning hours, the high wooden gates of the town are open to the public, though the remoteness of the town and its small population leaves little through traffic. It is, perhaps, somewhat unusual to see Gideon Hightower approaching the town from outside, while not having seen him ever leave. It's the first time since arriving at Piren's Bluff that the idylkin, Biatz had seen this mission's patron. Slowly walking down the dirt road towards the gates, Gideon's eyes are focused on the sky overhead, the long tails of his jacket blown to one side by the chill breeze, his breath visible as he draws closer.
Gideon spots Biatz well after the idylkin notices him, and a gesture of greeting is issued with one raised hand as the Garundi nobleman approaches the trees. His boots crunch packed earth underfoot, scuff rocks away and noisily announce his arrival. "Good to see you up and about this morning," Gideon warmly greets in a conversational tone, "a fine morning for a walk, yes? The cold helps wake me up."
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Biatz tips his hat in reply to Gideon. He had picked up some civility during his time in Westcrown, and found that people reacted better to him when he used it. "A fine morning indeed. I'd prefer some more warmth though, it's going to be a long cold winter and I'd like to absorb as much warmth as I can." Biatzs stretches, leaning his head back his hat falls to the ground, revealing his cat ears. He stands up and adjusts his shortsword at his hip, accidently bumping it against the tree. He pats the tree as if in apology, picks up his hat, dusting off bits of grass, and places it again upon his head. "Is this a socail chat, or is there something you need of me?"
"A little of both," Gideon opines with a tilt of his head to the side, adjusting his weight when he comes to a stop to settle it on his good leg. "We're going to be departing shortly, I was making the rounds to ensure no one gets left behind. We've a long road ahead of us, but our first order of business is meeting at the first way-marker the vanguard set for us. Once we get there, the answers I've been promising about this whole affair will be made clear."
Glancing to the foothills, then back again, Gideon looks Biatz up and down once. "Do you have everything you need? We won't be back in civilization for quite some time, and while I'd like to think I've prepared us for the worst, a second opinion is always welcomed. If the weather turns for the poorer before we reach the excavation site, you and our other scout -- Karrn -- will be solely responsible for ensuring we reach our destination safely."
Biatz nods in understanding. "Oh I have everything I need. It's in nature." He gestures to the surrounding trees as his smile defines his sabre teeth. "I will try my best to see everyone makes it to wherever it is we are going, but I can't control nature. If it wants flesh to feed on, it will get some. I'm excited to hear we are leaving. I've been cooped up here far to long." He stamps his feet a little, flattening more grass blades.
Grimacing at the more grim sentiment, Gideon offers a nod of recognition to Biatz. "I feel the same wanderlust, my friend, but the ground is shifting under our feet and the road is in front of us. We have a long way yet to go." Turning from Biatz, Gideon departs without a formal farewell, his hobbled gait carrying him towards the towering gates of Piren's Bluff to make the final preparations for departure. There's too much riding on this venture -- too much of his family's wealth -- for last minute complications to hold it up now.
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"Clockworks are my area of expertise, actually."
With a loud thump, a stack of musty old books are dropped on the rear step of the supply wagon. Here, Aribessa Montclaire has found herself beset upon by another member of the expeditionary force, one with decidedly more questions than she has answers. Looking up from the stack of books she's just deposited, Aribessa threads and errant lock of hair behind one ear and turns to look at the man speaking with her. "You're... Gabriel Ethelstan, yes? I don't think I heard what your area of expertise is." Aribessa's dark eyes flick up to the young man's gray hair, then back down. "Lord Hightower told me I'd likely recognize you on sight." Offering out a gloved hand, the young woman manages something of a distracted smile. "Aribessa Montclaire, one of the automata experts on the team."
While Aribessa offers out a hand, she's bumped into by one of the laborers loading the wagon, nearly toppling the young woman aside. She lets out a surprised noise, grimacing awkwardly, before looking back to Gabriel and clearing her throat. "It's what I get for conversing in the heavy-traffic areas."
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Gabriel had been very energetic all morning. It might have had to do with the stimulating drink the inn had served him when he awoke, or it might have had something to do with the fact that the expedition was supposed to be underway today. He was nervous, sure, but he was also excited to be beginning the journey he had been waiting so long for. Unfortunately the other members of the expedition were probably suffering for it. He had gone from teamster to guard to researcher asking all sorts of questions. Names, hometowns, occupations. Aribessa was merely the latest person to fall prey to his curiosity. "Yes, though most people have trouble with pronouncing my last name. Do you speak elvish? Slyvan perhaps?" Gabriel smiled and took the woman's hand gently to give it a shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you Ms. Montclaire."
Just as Gabriel is about to release the woman's hand back to her, one of the laborers filling up the carts nearly knocks her down. Instinctively Gabriel reaches out to help steadier her, gently taking hold of her arms to do so. When he's certain she's got her balance, he would release her and take a step back to give her some space. "Well, I suppose that's my fault for starting a conversation in the middle of all this."
Gabriel grins sheepishly for a few moments as he looks at all of the others getting the wagons ready and doing last minute preparations. Then he seems to recall that Aribessa had been curious about his own area of expertise. "Oh, right! I'm a planar 'expert'." He says the word expert like he didn't actually believe it applied to him. "I've studied the planes a great deal, from their attributes, to traveling between them, and to the myths and history that they carry."
An awkward expression crosses Aribessa's face, caught off-guard by Gabriel's notice of her pronounciation. The young woman's brow twitches, as if this were some point of contention, but demurely she lets the remark pass with a simple, "I picked up Elven when I studied at the College of Mysteries in Absalom." Clearing her throat, she looks to her shoulder that Gabriel had steadied her with a moment ago, then looks back to the plane-touched young man. "So if I've counted correctly, we have two planar experts and two who specialize in automata and constructs of the sort. I'm just-- trying to wrap my head around what it is Gideon thinks we're going to find in these mountains. The only thing anyone has ever found in the Aspodell are animals and scrawny kobolds."
Running a hand through her hair and brushing her bangs from her face, Aribessa looks to the wagon, then back to Gabriel. "I should obsess so much over this, we're going to find out soon enough I suppose. Momentarily, Aribessa's attention is stolen by a hooded woman quietly making her way over to the lead wagon, a few tresses of coppery hair spilling out from within. As she opens the door to Gideon's carriage, Aribessa's eyes narrow and her focus becomes settled on the jet ring on one of her hands. A moment later, though, she's turning back to Gabriel.
"Well," she says with a breathy exasperation, "I should probably finish getting ready. It was nice to meet you, Gabriel. I'm sure we'll have more time to talk later... I have a feeling we have a long way into those mountains to go."
Gabriel raises an eyebrow in surprise, "You managed to get into the College of Mysteries? They barely let me look at their library when I was their four years ago." This wouldn't be so odd, save for the fact that Gabriel looked like he couldn't have been more then fifteen or sixteen at the moment. "I suppose that means you're very qualified at least!" The young man says with a grin as he takes a step back to avoid one of the laborers moving about.
Gabriels eyes are darting about now, taking in as much as he can of the preparation. One could almost see the questions moving through his mind every time he spots a piece of equipment he hasn't seen before or sees someone doing something curious. Just as he turns his attention back to Aribessa, but just before he can ask his next question, she begins speaking about what it was they might be doing in the mountains. "Could be old ruins in the mountains themselves. I hear that some of them contain miles of catacombs that could house any number of people. Plenty of places to hide some ruins. Might even be a few natural places where the caves are closer to the plane of Earth. Not sure about construct experts. Are golems and the like common in civilizations that develop underground?"
Before Gabriel could begin theorizing about such a civilization and how it might have developed, Aribessa cuts the conversation short with the need to get back to her preparations. "I shouldn't hold you up then." Gabriel says, his expression a mixture of understanding, guilt and a little disappointment. "It was a pleasure to meet you as well Ms. Monclaire. I look forward to being able to talk to you again in the future." Gabriel sounds sincere. Then again, he always sounds sincere. The young Aasimar seems to wear his emotions on his sleeve. "Do you need any help with anything?"
Furrowing her brows at Gabriel's excitable and talkative nature, she offers an uncertain smile with a shake of her head. It isn't a negative reaction, however, more one of surprise. It's clear that this young woman isn't very acclimated to working with others so animated and talkative. "No... no. I just need to get-- uh-- a few things from my room is all." Looking over to the visible roof of the Conquerer's Blade in the distance, the young researcher breathes in a deep breath and exhales a tired sigh. "I suppose I'll need to get used to lots of early morning and fresh, cold air again. It's been a long time since I've been on the road like this."
Looking back to Gabriel, Aribessa shrugs and offers him a curt wave. "We'll catch up later, I'm interested to know more about where you studied. But for now, try to keep your excitement contained and your eyes on the horizon..."
She pauses, then smirks, adding, "For all our sakes."
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The hour of morning grows long, and within that window of time the caravan belonging to Lord Hightower's expedition is fully stocked and loaded for travel. With the majority of the expedition team traveling on foot or riding on or in the wagons, it leaves some time to see familiar and new faces alike. Gabriel, Aribessa and Lyniza are joined by a reclusive redhead that has stowed away in the lead carraige, out of sight and away from the others. Word among the others on the team is that her name is Kasimira, but little else is known about her. Along with the primary research team, eight workers hired to tend the supplies and put up camp and dig at the expedition's main site, should it be necessary, are accompanying the team as well as four human mercenaries from Druuma hired to protect the caravan and Lord Hightower.
Just outside the gate, the caravan is joined by a hawkish looking man with a motly mish-mash of animalistic features, one of the caravan's two scouts: Biatz. Lastly, the group crosses paths with what at a distance looks like a powerfully built dog reared up on its hind legs. Alarming the mercenaries at first, Karrn's powerful frame seems like an impending threat. Gideon, however, is quick to point out from his perch atop the lead wagon with the driver that it is Karrn Stonefang, the second scout for the team.
It is this diverse group that finds itself hiking a mile across the rolling hills of Andoran's western countryside, amidst chill fall wind and under cloudy skies. The well-worn road out of Piren's Bluff soon becomes trackless as Gideon guides the wagon off the road and across the rolling foothills. The mile-long trek doesn't take very long, but it puts an appreciable distance between the expedition and the town, enough to ensure unwelcomed prying eyes and listening ears have long since been left behind.
It's a simple task for Biatz and Karrn to follow the trail of the vanguard when it traveled this way. Near thirty men leave many tell-tale signs of their passing, especially when they mark the trees and rocks they pass to make it easier to be found. It's on this way that the expedition's scouts find the first way-marker, a white star painted on the side of a large, flat rock outcropping overlooking a recessed patch of flat, grassy earth. Plenty of shelter from the wind, a good area to set up camp.
The caravan circles around the depression opposite the rock outcropping, and the teamsters begin the process of unhitching the eight horses pulling the wagon to give them some room to move unburdened. From the word passing through the expedition crew, Gideon plans to stop here only for a couple hours to make the plan of approach into the Aspodell and talk to the team, so there will be much traveling yet. But for now, the team has been given some respite to make acquaintences.
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Karrn relaxes against the outcropping, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. He'd seen the tenseness in the mercenaries when he met with the caravan, and while he knows he has to meet with the other full hires eventually, he's both looking forward to it and not.
"Well. The team certainly is more colourful than I expected," Lyniza remarks as she pops her head back into their wagon. She had been curious when she'd heard muttering about the guides leading them around and about. She hasn't yet climbed out of her wagon, instead taking to putting away the pair of books she had pulled out for the trip as well as jotting down a few notes in a book of hers. "It almost like I didn't actually leave home. Well, except for the weather."
Gabriel, who had calmed down somewhat since the group first let Pirens Bluff, looked up from his book when everyone came to a halt. He had been walking alongside the caravan so far, having grown tired of riding in a wagon and sitting around. A few people had pointed and whispered when they noticed the young man walking and reading at the same time, and seemingly avoiding collisions with other people and the wagons with relative ease, but as the day progressed fewer peoeple would have time to notice. With some time to relax and meet everyone else, everyone he hadn't already spoken to that morning at least, Gabriel decided to take the chance to seek out one or both of the scouts. Their origins were obviously different in nature, one appearing to be a Gnoll and the other appearing to be a mix of several animals and an orc. Such unique appearances piqued the young mans curiosity. He briefly considered introducing himself to the other researches in the group, but decided he'd have the chance to do that later when he was traveling with them.
Gabriel had been walking for a few minutes when he finally spotted the Gnoll. He had been asking others and surprisingly found it hard to pin point the mans location, despite how obvious he stood out. But finally he found the man. With as smile, Gabriel slowly approached Karrn. He was obviously a little wary, but whatever fear he might have carried didn't stop him from approaching the gnoll. About five feet away, the young man stopped and said, "Hello! It's a pleasure to meet you... Karrn, right? I think that's what Gideon... er... Mr. Hightower said your name was."
Several of the teamsters stand in a semicircle by the rear supply wagon, lighting up pipes and letting the smell of fresh pipeweed waft smokily into the air around them. Good spirited laughter can be heard, even as they pass around a coppery metal flash and take turns drinking from it. In comparison, the Druuman mercenaries seem to be matter-of-factly tending to the perimeter, spreading out to watch the foothills for unwanted interlopers or roaming threats. One of the four, at all times, remains a short distance away from Gideon as he surveys the camp.
Gideon himself seems content to allow the others to meet and converse before he begins explaining the truth behind their gathering. Instead he inspects the wagons, his awkward gait making that circuit a slow and pondrous one. Gideon, however, is the focus of Aribessa's attention from her perch on the bach of the supply wagon. With a battered, old musket draped across her lap, she makes a half-hearted attempt to clean the firearm loaned to her, but seems to have more hawkish interest invested in Lord Hightower's activities.
Nearby, a bothersome crow displaces a much smaller bird from a scraggly tree jutting up from the rock outcropping, sending the tiny sparrow or thrush fluttering away with rapidly flapping wings. The crow caws a few times, then settles down and tucks its beak into the feathers of its breast against the chill breeze.
Biatz enjoyed the walk through the mountains. It was easy going, almost to easy really. The caravan was slow, and Biatz wanted to go out and run with the animals. He dealt with it though, knowing that there will be excitement enough eventually. Upon camping down for awhile, Biatz heads a little into the forest, and finds a nice tree. After familiarizing himself with the area, he moves back into the encampment. He had found the fellow scout interesting, and figured he should get to know him a little better if they were going to be working together.
Karrn looks up at the delicate-looking man approaching. He can almost smell the wariness, but at least he's being friendly. Karrn smiles, remembering that if he didn't bare his teeth it was a civilized way to greet someone, and clambers to his feet. "Well-wishes. Karrn is me." He speaks cheerfully, and his Common is surprisingly understandable, though growling, coming from his bestial mouth. Then, for a moment, Karrn wishes he hadn't stood. He loomed over the young man, and civilized folk sometimes saw that as a threat.
Oops.
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<<Continued from above>>
Gabriel, despite being five feet away, has to crane his neck a little to look the Gnoll in the eyes. Despite this, he doesn't seem to be anymore wary then he had originallly been. "A pleasure to meet you Karrn." Gabriel says, his excitement almost bubbling out as he spoke, "My name is Gabriel. I'm one of the researchers Mr. Hightower hired on for this expedition."
With everything in it's place, Lyniza slips past Aribessa, offering a glance back at her before she departs from the wagon. She's dressed differently than she had been before they departed, now wearing heavier clothes, a satchel sling around her shoulder, and a few sickles gangly plainly from spots on her belt. Scarf adjusted a bit around her neck, she looks around for a moment before she moves in a bit on their temporary camp, offering a nod towards Biatz as she sees him remerging from the forest.
As he heads back into the encampment, Biatz notices a women strolling past nod at him, and he automatically tips his hat in response. It had become almost second nature to be civilized, and while it did feel oppresive, it was worth it.
He sees the gnoll standing talking to another person he had never seen before. He shrugs and approaches the two of them, figuring he might as well meet more and get it over with. It's not that he doesn't like people, but he's more comfortable with animals, they seem to understand him better. That's why he really wants to talk to this gnoll, hoping they will get along well. He hails them as he approaches. "Ahoy there!" The ahoy sounds rather forced, as he's never actually used the word before, having only heard it recently.
Gabriel, despite being five feet away, has to crane his neck a little to look the Gnoll in the eyes. Despite this, he doesn't seem to be anymore wary then he had originallly been. "A pleasure to meet you Karrn." Gabriel says, his excitement almost bubbling out as he spoke, "My name is Gabriel. I'm one of the researchers Mr. Hightower hired on for this expedition."
"I know mountains." Karrn offers cheerfully, "My tribe is from near. Wanted to see more of world and people. You... study?" Karrn's ears twitches at Biatz's call, and the gnoll turns his head to look at his fellow scout. "Well-wishes. Glad to see I am not only guide. Nice to share blame if lost." His tail wags, hopefully making his statement clear as a joke.
Gabriel chuckles at the joke and turns to wave to the new arrival, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be wary of the Gnoll and turning his back to the large being. "Hello there! We were just introducing ourselves." Gabriel turns back to Karrn and replies, "Yes. I study the different planes that make up our universe. Their history, their lore, and even their properties. I'm not quite sure why I'll be needed but Mr. Hightower seemed pretty confident he'll find a use for my skills..."
Gabriel takes a moment to consider his questions before asking, "It sounds like I'm not the only one whose studying either. You left your tribe to learn more about the world and people, huh? That sounds like a noble endeavor. Have you learned anything interesting so far?"
Well. There certainly seems to be a nice little group gathering together around just the two people Lyn was most curious about, and she doubts Aribessa and Gideon feel much like talking presently, so she starts her way towards them. A small wave is given as she approaches, the bangles on her arm rattling together as she lifts her hand, her feet be ref of shoes at least for the moment. She regrets that last decision, the ground colder than she's used to, but she'll deal for now. "Hello, uh... gentlemen?" she says as she approaches them, a smile offsetting how unsure of her choice of words she sounds.
Biatz smiles. "Oh I blame no one but nature. If there is one thing I was taught from my time in Westcrown, it's always the females fault." Biatz acknowledges Gabriel. "I am Biatz by the way, orcish for Beast. Though I think you might fit my name better." He remarks the last to Karrn.
Karrn thinks for a moment. "Learned Common. And learned city people are like wolves. Talk big when more number than outsider, run if prey snaps teeth. Oh! And learned new plants that taste very good when put over fire with meat." He seems distinctly pleased by this last point. "Do not know of planes. Seems complicated. One land enough for me to learn for now."
"Not much called gentle. Sometimes fuzzy, though." He grins at Lyn, though he forgets himself from dealing with several people at once and accidentally shows too many teeth. "Karrn of Stonefang tribe."
"Do not know Westcrown. City? Sounds like city-name, not nation-name. And for me, you are all strange-looking ones. I am normal." Seeing Lyn approach, he emulates her wave, which prominintly displays his claws, and exposing his scaled arm as the sleeve of his shirt slides down. "Gentleman may apply to us if you so wish it too."
He listens to Karn, and his ears perk up under his hat at the mention of plants with meat. "Westcrown is a city in Cheliax over there." He sweeps his hand in the direction of Cheliax. "Though I think I need to know this plants with meat recipe you learned."
"Hello there ma'am!" Gabriel replies with a big grin, rather excited about how quickly this conversation was growing. Several of the people he had hoped to meet all in one spot.
Despite being the least odd of the men in the group, even Gabriel's relationship with the word gentleman could be put into question. For one thing, his hair and eyes were unnaturally grey. For another, he seemed to be barely sixteen winters old. Hardly old enough for the word to apply to him.
"I am Gabriel Ethelstan." The young man says to both the new comers and Karrn. "That's my families name, Karrn. I actually don't have a nation or city name. And I find the planes fascinating, but to each his own yes? For instance, I wish I knew how to make meat taste better with plants. I can hardly cook meat without turning it black." Gabriel chuckles at his joke, then looks over to the newly arriving Lyn, "You're one of the researchers yes? I was looking forward to meeting you! Tell me, you wouldn't happen to be the other planar researcher, would you?"
The display of teeth and claws earns a bit of an awkward smile from Lyniza. It's not a sight she's unfamiliar with by any means, but in a close up setting - and with a calmer demeanour than she's used for - gives her a moment of pause. "Lyniza, of Varisia," she responds, offering a bit of a bow. "Gideon keeps colourful company. This'll be a really interesting trip."
At Gabriel's inquiry, she blinks, and then shakes her head. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person for that," she remarks, a finger tapping against her cheek. "Alchemist by profession, tinkerer by hobby. I'm here for engineering assistance, I suppose is the best way to put it," she says, thinking back to how Aribessa had phrased her reason for being there. "The planes, hmm? You'd probably get along with some people I know back home."
For a brief moment Gabriel seems disapointed. Then the moment is gone and he is smiling again. "I met the other engineer earlier. She seemed nice, if a bit curious about what the purpose of this excivation was." He raises an eyebrow then as her proffesion dawns on him. "An alchemist? How interesting! For such a new proffesion it seems like you can't enter a city without hearing about on breakthrough or another involving alchemy. What happens to be the focus of your work in that field?"
"Meat is best raw and hot, but cooking makes it complicated in a good way. Adds something if done right." He thinks for a moment as Lyn explains herself. "Know little about alchemy. Is like... potions, yes?" He turned his attention to Biatz for a moment. "Can teach cooking on trip. Can find plants I need along trail, make big meeting-pot for us one moonrise."
"Well, potions are a part of it,"Lyniza answers, reaching into her satchel and pulling out a vial. "It has a lot of applications besides just potions, though. Special applications for metals, contracting and destructcing operates and elements and mixing them into other things, and... well. If anything goes sideways while we're out here, I'd keep your ears covered," she remarks with a bit of a coy wink.
She frowns a bit, though, at Gabriel's inquiry, shaking her head as she looks back at him. "I'm just an apprentice, only been studying a few years. I don't... really have a focus, I guess? Beyond the basics. I tinker some, but I guess the closest I have to a focus is automata. The studio I work at is right near Golemworks, in Magnimar. It makes things... interesting, to say the least." Eyes shift back the way she came for a moment, then back to Gabriel. She keeps her initial impression of Aribessa to herself, at least for now.
"Magnimar... Magnimar..." Gabriel raises one of his hands to stroke his chin as he tries to recall whether or not he had ever visited the city. "I don't think I've ever been there. The Golemworks sound fascinating, but I tend to go to places with schools that focus on the magical or religious rather then the mechanical. I might have passed through there a few years ago but..." Gabriel shrugs, "It sounds like an amazing place. And if you're an apprentice, does that mean your teacher is here with you? Or are you representing him?"
<<To be further continued>>
As some of the researchers and scouts of Gideon's expedition gather together to talk, the teamsters and mercenaries that accompany the wagon caravan go about the task of tending to the horses and securing the perimeter of the windswept, rocky hillock. Atop the tarp-covered supply wagon, Aribessa watches the others conversing with that battered musket she's been carrying around laid out over her lap. Every so often, she twists at a screw in the stock, unfastens a part of the firing mechanism and puts it back on, or checks out the mounting brackets on the barrel to see how it is put together.
As the skies grow darker with clouds and the wind picks up, the door to the lead wagon swings open, followed by the leader of the expedition finally emerging. With a rap of his cane on every step as he descends to the grass, Gideon looks out over the assembled group with a thoughtful expression worn on his weary brow. Running the thumb of one gloved hand over the snarling muzzle of the steel wolf's head that caps his cane, he makes the limping walk across the grassy hill to stand with his back to the jagged rocks that jut up from the ground.
The teamsters, looking on from the perimeter where they check the ropes securing the supply wagon and watch the horses, seem intent on listening to the speech. They, like everyone else summoned to this hill, know only the barest scraps of truth as to why they are here and where they are going.
Finally, Gideon plans on addressing that.
Gabriel, with as much enthusiasm as he had done anything since joining Gideon's expedition, was happily talking to the group of folk he had met. They definitely seemed like a nice lot and any fear Gabriel might have had about the Gnoll quickly evaporated after talking with him for a few minutes. Though the young grey haired man was still curious about the Gnoll.. and the half-orc... and the alchemist... and... a great many other things... Gabriel's attention quickly went to Gideon when the lead of the expedition strolled out of his wagon. Excusing himself from the group, Gabriel made his way closer so that he might better hear what Gideon had to say.
With a pack slung over her shoulder, Lyniza meanders up to the assembled group as one of the last to join its mass. She was drawn over by the sound of Gideon's cane, having previously been lost in her own thoughts as she had rummaged around through her pack. It was essential every morning that she make sure everything was in it's right pace, and this was no different. Still, as much as she wanted to continued with her morning tasks, curiosity was getting the better of her as it always did, and now she finds herself waiting and watching Gideon with rapt attention.
At the appearance of Gideon, Biatz breaks off from his conversation with his fellow members of the expedition. He excuses himself and walks a short distance away and takes a seat upon the grassy ground, watching Gideon the whole time. To say Biatz wasn't curious as to what the future held would be a lie. He was content with the present, and "rolled with the punches" as many in Cheliax would say, and would be happy with whatever was to come. However, he sat anxiously to see just where the expedition was going to lead.
Kasimira steps out from the lead wagon, getting a decent glimpse at her fellow travelers for the first time at the journey. Having spent the first bit of the journey with Gideon and his crew, she would have expected to obtain answers, but all she received were snippets of information and a barrage of questions. It baffled Kas how he expected her to give him a useful analysis from the scarcity of information he provided. A wiser person would have been able draw conclusions from the questions he asked, but not Kas. People weren't her study, but maybe, she thought, that should change. She stands just outside the wagon, scrutinizing her employer.
"Secrecy," Gideon begins, his voice carrying over the whistle of the wind between the wagons, "is one of the greatest weapons in any man's arsenal. Secrecy has been the most important element in this endeavor since it began, and you were all brought together under a veil of it."
Beginning to pace back and forth, Gideon braces himself with every other step using his cane. "I have kept this expedition so covert because I wish to maintain its integrity. If others knew what I know -- what you are about to know -- their interference would risk not only our impending discovery, but potentially greater calamity."
Stopping and turning to face the group he has hired, Gideon reaches inside of his jacket and withdraws a small hemisphere of brushed metal. Its domed surface is inlaid with tiny chips of clear gemstone and engraved with an intricate web of lines, marks, and hexagonal shapes. He holds it up, showing it to the group. On that gesture, Aribessa sets down the musket and climbs off of the supply wagon, booted feet landing on the grass softly.
"This relic has been in the Hightower family for generations, and it is the reason we are all here today." Beginning to pace again, Gideon continues his explanation. "Some of you may have heard the story in old books or folklore... Ten thousand years ago, how the world was plunged into endless night when a fiery mountain fell from the sky and crashed into the sea. How the world persisted in a state of chaos for thousands of years, until the sun shone again and the darkness parted."
Pushing past a few teamsters, Aribessa makes her way to stand beside Gabriel, watching Gideon intently as he speaks.
"Earth and stone was not all that fell from the heavens that day." Gideon's red-hued eyes dart from one face to the next, watching reactions. "I have come into the possession of historic accounts of tribes that once lived in these mountains, centuries ago. These stories tell of a spear of fire that fell from the heavens and struck the Aspodell mountains. They speak of strange, terrifying creatures made of metal that climbed from twisted metal wreckage. Stories told to scare children from wandering too far into the mountains... stories largely dismissed by groups like the Pathfinder Society for lack of proof."
Gideon brandishes the metal object in one hand again. "My crew, I hold in my hand that proof. This object, held in the Hightower vaults for generations, originated in these mountains. It had passed through countless hands before finding its way to the Hightower treasury. When my father passed away and I was appointed head of the family, it fell into my possession. Fascinated by it, and that it's origins had never been ascertained, I spent a large portion of my estate researching this object, the writing on it, and using magical divinations to secure truths to its past."
Tucking the object back into his jacket, Gideon looks around the group once more. "The object was indeed found in the Aspodell, over five-hundred years ago. But the divinations I have had performed on it pull back a larger curtain from it. It's origin is not from Aspodell. Not from Golarion." Raising one hand, Gideon points to the cloudy sky. "I believe this item hails from another world entirely. I believe this object -- and much more -- fell to Golarion ten thousand years ago..."
Eyebrow quirked, Lyniza can't help but lean forward for a better view, and in a way to show her interest - as much as she knows she should be skeptical of a claim such as this, something prevents her from scoffing at Gideon's claim. "Huh," she emotes out loud, looking around to see the reactions of others. It certainly makes the secrecy make sense - she's sure anyone else would fancy him a loon if he ran around talking openly about a belief such as this. But even with her curiosity, at the end of the day it wa sjust still an interestingly shaped lump of whatever. She'd have to try and get a closer look at it at some point.
"If I may ask - I'm definitely interested t' see more of this, but... how does this help us know what we're looking for?" It's an earnest question, not one meant for second guessing. She takes a step forward, a hand placed against the side of her cheek. "If it's what you say it is, Gods know what it could've come from." She nods, looking expectantly up at Gideon, hoping he doesn't take offense to her inquiry.
Biatz ears start to twitch. Thoughts rush through his head. Sky? It came from the sky? Many say I came from the sky. Metal people? What is that? Could this be possible? His twitching ears knock his hat off. He gives himself a shake, trying to ground himself back down to earth, if that was possible, and claps his hat back on his head. He continues to wait, to see if more was to be revealed, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.
Gabriel wasn't sure if he was the only one who didn't doubt Gideon at his word, but he was pretty sure he was the only one to pull out a book as Gideon was talking and start leafing through it. He even began to mumble to himself when Gideon finished speaking, stealing only a glance or two up at the man as he tried to recall the stone he had just held aloft. Aribessa would definitely hear Gabriel muttering in at least three languages, switching between them between pages.
Finally, after a few moments, Gabriel stepped forward. Hundreds of questions burned in his mind. What kind of spells were used on it? What kind of metal did it appear to be? Was it carved that way when it landed or did the natives form it into it's current form? But one question rose above the others, one that he had to ask, though the consequences of the answer could be world changing. "Is that..." Gabriel began, taking a moment to find his voice, "Are you saying that stone fell with the Starstone? The Starstone? The stone that made gods of mortals?"
Kas tilts her head to the right, expecting further elaboration. While she's seen plenty mentions of other worlds in her (admittedly fledgling) studies, she hasn't yet encountered a tale like this. "Is this what we're after?" she murmurs, but it remains silent.
Monentarily, Gideon's expression becomes sharply focused on Gabriel. There's a look to the young man that seems as if the aasimar's question may have hit very close to something. "All things are possible." Gabriel notes with a raise of one brow. "Dare I say, it is all quite likely."
Incredulous looks are passed around the teamsters and mercnearies at Gideon's assertion that a piece of shiny metal fell from the heavens and comes from another world entirely. It's a tall tale, a hard one to swallow, and for most people's limited knowledge of cosmology, simply idiotic.
Motioning to Lyniza, Gideon offers her a brief smile and a nod of his head. "A good question. The divinations I performed on the object indicate that it resided in now extinct local tribes in the Aspodell before it was uncovered by dwarven explorers some hundred and fifty years ago. This research, coupled with the accounts of the impact and the steel creatures is proof to me that there may still be remnants of this original impact site in the mountains. Even if time has done its best to hide it."
Aribessa watches Gideon intently, arms crossing over her chest and brow furrowed. Occasionally, she looks at the others to assess their reactions, before looking back to the expedition's leader.
"The relic," Gideon continues, "I believe, is a map. Not to the destination we are headed for, but somewhere beyond. All of my research indicates that whatever lies at the impact site, now long buried under the passage of time, will help illuminate on where the object came from and who its original owners were."
Stepping a bit closer to the group, Gideon makes a broad motion with his cane as if to indicate everyone. "We are venturing to that site, to the original point of impact high in the Aspodell where this object was recovered. I expect to find there, after some excavation, the original remains of whatever it was that fell to Golarion that day. You have each been chosen for your specific skills based on the perceived dangers and knowledge necessary to research this site. The 'metal men' of the old stories are likely constructs of some kind that survived the crash therefore those of you with knowledge of arcana and machines will be necessary to identify their properties. My planar experts," he motions to Kasimira and Gideon, "are here to understand the means by which thi object could have plummeted to the ground, and... other specifics that I'll get into later."
Running one gloved hand over his bald head, Gideon looks to the ground for a moment, then back up to the group. "Some of you may be aware that this is not the only group traveling there as well. A marksman from the Mana Wastes -- Ieshua Hollows -- and many mercenaries are more than a week ahead of us. Their goal is to reach the impact site and secure it for us, while leaving trail markers for us to follow along the way. They will ensure our safety, much as our own guides and sellswords," a motion is afforded to Karrn and Biatz, then his bodyguards, "are to protect us from anything that comes in between. We will rendezvous with this advance team on reaching the impact site and begin excavation to find the ruins. It may take months, or more, to complete the excavation fully. This is one of the reasons why we have so many provisions, so many supplies. I intend for this group to be in the mountains... Well," he laughs in a self-depreciating manner, "for as long as I can afford to keep you there."
Biatz mind as Gideon continues explaining. As he finishes, the gears click into place. Biatz eyes widen, showing the full extent of his cat-like eyes, and his right ear twitches so hard his hat falls off again. He realizes that this expedition, may just answer all the questions he has had in his life. He left the orcs seeking answers. He went to Cheliax seeking answers, and their so called gods gave him none. He looks up at the cloudy sky, his eyes trying to pierce their veil. Maybe, my answers lie up there
"Out of this world constructs?" Well, now Lyniza's interests are definitely piqued. Not that they weren't before. She's moving closer to the front of the pack now, nodding absently as she listens to Gideon's continuing explanation. "A map?" she repeats low under her breath, stopping for a moment to consider. She is given a bit pf pause at the prospect of being here for who knows how long, though. Being away from Menos and her family for so long wasn't exactly what she had planned. Ah, well.
Reaching into her pack, she fishes around for a moment, before producing a deck of cards - harrow cards - she begins to shuffle in hand. "How absolutely delightful," she says with a bit of a sing-songy tone.
Gabriel had sharp eyes and a sharp mind. He would never claim to be the smartest anywhere, ascribing to the belief that there was always someone (likely several someones) better then you, but his mind was quick enough to catch the expression that his question caused to flash over Gideon's features. The implications were maddening. Could Gideon be searching for another Starstone? Could he be searching for the place the Starstone originated? Why? Was he after godhood? Or was this purely a scholastic journey? Gabriels head began to spin at the possible outcomes and implications and he instinctively reached out to the nearest persons shoulder to support himself before he fell in his thought induced dizziness. One hand reflexively went to the shape of the tome in his pack, the one Rune gave him. It was an act of seeking comfort, a way to ground himself.
After taking a few moments to breathe, Gabriel released the persons, whoever it was, shoulder with a quiet apology and moved himself forward through the crowd. He didn't want to ask the questions that had come to mind. Not in this crowd. He would try and speak to the man later. Besides, there were questions he could ask now, and despite the potential dangers of such an adventure Gabriel's mind was already wondering what they might find during this journey. The point of the object being a map meant something. "Do you know if the object fell in that form or was that the workings of those who have come across it since it came to this world? Is it a complete map or are we looking for other pieces of it there?"
Hearing Kas' question, Gideon doesn't seem immediately ready to answer it. Instead he considers his response to Gabriel's question carefully. "The relic I have is in its original form, it has not been worked. I believe it is intact, but am not entirely sure of its purpose. All identification shows that it is a map, but it is not one that has been able to be decyphered. I'm... counting on the ruins at the impact site to shed some more light on it."
Pacing some, Gideon mulls over Kas's question a little more, finally coming to a desired response. "That all depends on what we find. Does the map lead somewhere else? Are there more important relics at the site? There's too many variables... We coulds find nothing, at which point you will be compensated for yoru time and sent on your way."
All things considered, though, there's one more point that Gideon had yet to raise.
"There is... a complication to all of this I have not yet divulged." Clearing his throat, Gideon curls fingers around his red ascot and loosens it. "The vanguard I sent into the mountains should have arrived at their destination four days ago. I provided them with a scroll that would allow them to contact me." Gideon's brows furrow. "They have not reported back in." Shifting his weight to his good leg, Gideon swings his cane around once and then taps it on the grass. "It's possible they've hit a snag. However, they made it this far," he notes while motioning to a painted mark on the rock. "This was their first waypoint. Beyond this, I have no reassurance that the vanguard will be clearing the way for us. We will be following the same route as them, so if they've become mired -- or gotten lost -- I trust that we and our guides will be able to discern this and work together to lighten their burden."
With that bit of unfortunate news delivered, Aribessa slips away from Gabriel's side and looks briefly over to Kasimira, then back to Gideon. The young woman threads a lock of hair behind one ear, then crosses her arms and looks down at her feet, lost in her own thoughts.
"We're a day's travel from the next way marker, and two days of good travel from the impact site." Gideon looks out across the rest of the team once more, a single brow raised. "Do the rest of you have any other questions before we disembark?"
Lyniza's expression darkens a bit at that little tidbit of news, hers hands stilling as she cuts the harrow deck. "I guess I should do a special inventory, just in case," she remarks in a low voice. The deck slides back together in hand, and for a moment she looks down at it, considering it for a moment. "What's the plan if something's happened?" she asks frankly, a hdn moving to the top of the deck. She supposes she should be surprised, danger is part of things like this. Looking around nervously, she doesn't wait for an answer, instead turning to check on her things. Her hand slides from the top of the deck, pulling a card up with it. With a flick of her wrist she trusn it around, looking at the card she's draw,
"Huh."
The news of the vanguard knocks Biatz back to earth. He scoops up his hat and sits it in his lap, giving up on keeping it on his head. If something has happened to the vanguard, it will be up to him and the gnoll to lead this group through the wilderness. He knew he had to ask the question. "And what if the vanguard is somehow wiped out. What do we do then?"
Gabriel did have a lot of questions, but he relaxed a little when he realized Gideon was probably almost as much in the dark about what they would find as the rest of them were. Oh, Gabriel was sure he had kept some information to himself, if nothing more then out of habit, but this expedition was too small for someone who knew without a doubt what they would find. With a prize like the Starstone at the end, nations and gods would move. This was, while not a small group, definitely no army. The young aasimar took a deep breath again and began to walk away from the crowd. Anyone who had met Gabriel would know it was unusual for the man to not take advantage of the time to discuss things, but his expression gave away that his thoughts were elsewhere. It was possible he was just going to digest what he had heard or even going to look into it in his books.
In truth, Gabriel returned to the wagons for his heavy cloak. With a few cautious looks over his shoulder, Gabriel sneaks away from the wagons to a nearby tree and hides behind it. He pulls on the cloak, looks around once more, then draws a near perfect circle around him and sits in the center of it. The young man takes a moment to clear his mind. He had to be careful. Gideon had all but said they might be walking into danger and Gabriel wasn't going to walk into such a thing unprepared, especially not if the safety of those on the expedition was at stake.
Sure that he had no other choice, Gabriel began his ritual, murmuring words of divine origin under his breath. The words came slowly at first, but as the seconds passed they would grow faster and his pronunciation more fluid. At the thirty second mark, it almost sounded like he was speaking with two voices, both of them his though one far more clear and crystalline. At the forty five second mark, the hood he was wearing was hiding a bright, silvery white light emitting from the skin Gabriel didn't have covered underneath it. The dust within the circling was swirling toward Gabriel, as if the young man were drawing it in. And then, at the one minute mark exactly, he stopped, the light faded and the dirt settled. Gabriel stood up and drew the cloak more tightly around him. For a brief moment, silver gleamed beneath his cloak, but then it was hidden by the heavy woolen folds.
"It's the obvious question, but unfortunately one we can't address properly until we know what happened." Gideon's answer comes with a wobble of his head, slowly, from side to side as if not entirely pleased with his own answer. "If the vanguard has been wiped out... we will continue onward, provided we are able. They all knew the risks associated with a journey like this, just as you do. But these mountains..." Gideon motions to the looming silhouette of the Aspodell to the west, "they are not known for their peril. But," he admits with a crooked and rueful smile, "I suppose it's what you don't know that gets you killed, isn't it?"
Biatz lets out a slight growl of frustration. This was not what he expected when he signed up. Though he didn't expect much when he did because he didn't know enough to expect. He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling the chill breeze flow past his ears, hearing the wind rustle the leaves, focusins on nature. He calms down, just as nature is calm right now. He firms his resolve, puts his hat back on his head and stands. He looks at Gideon and says simply "With you to the end". He saunters back to his tree, to ready himself for what lies ahead.
Kas is both intrigued and slightly disappointed. Gideon had seemed, at least in her eyes, to let on that he knew more than he actually did. Or maybe he's still keeping secrets; she can't tell the difference. Still, it's not like she can fault him for not having answers -- that's what she's here for -- and what he did reveal is plenty enough for her to mull over.
Kas looks around for Gabriel, her peer for the expedition, and finds him as he's returning to the caravan from... doesn't matter. "So, what is your take on this?" she bluntly asks, before looking slightly embarassed. "I'm sorry, the introduction comes first. I'm Kasimira, or Kas, as you prefer."
Gabriel returned just as Gideon finished speaking. His errand had only taken a few minutes, meaning he got back just in time to speak to others about what they had learned. His cloak, which covered him from head to toe and hid most of him beneath it's dark cloak, didn't seem to keep the mysterious woman Gideon had been seen with earlier from spotting him. Gabriel wondered about that and almost asked the woman, but decided at the last minute not to bring the issue to her attention. Nervously, gabriel reached up to draw the hood further down, hiding as much of his face as he could before Kas could get a good look. "Ga-" Gabriel stopped speaking almost immediately when he realized his voice had changed too. The single syllable was melodic and musical, but when he started speaking again he tried to 'rough' up his voice. The end effect was probably very comical, like a young boy trying to sound like a man. "Gabriel. A pleasure. I... uh... think it's very... interesting?" Gabriel almost immediately began looking around for an excuse to escape the conversation before he screwed up.
Kas thinks Gabriel is acting weird, but then, she realizes, she always believes people are acting weird, so she discounts that thought. "Of course it's interesting!" she responds, with obvious enthusiasm. "I mean, we've been studying this for a decent period of time in Egorian and this is the first I've heard about visitors from... out there." She sounds slightly awestruck with the last two words. "I'm just curious if you had any thoughts, before we try to analyze this further. There's not a lot of data for us to draw a conclusion from, but we might as well try."
Gabriel had a lot of thoughts on the subject and usually would have been more then happy to talk about things. He was, however, not quite prepared to deal with others at the moment given his current form. "Uh.." He begins, trying to think of a way to end the conversation without insulting her, "I.. have a few ideas but I need some time to look at my books. Would you mind holding this conversation off until tonight? Excuse me." Gabriel quickly bowed his head in apology and started making his way toward the wagons. Anyone close enough to him might hear the clicking of metal coming from his legs, but the sound was faint and could just as easily be coming from one of the guards in the area.
With Gabriel's abrupt departure, Kasimira is left holding the conversation hostage until the caravan settles at its next stop later on. Elsewhere, having heard enough of what Gideon has to say, Aribessa makes her way back to the supply wagon and climbs up top. Sitting cross-legged, she picks up the musket from where it was left and begins taking it apart again. Meanwhile, with the revelations and unsettling news delivered, Gideon finds his job here complete. As he draws in a deep breath, the expedition leader rolls his shoulders and tries to shake off some of his perceived tension as he makes his way back to his wagon. On the way, he stops by Kasimira and glances at her, then motions to the alchemy wagon with a nod of his head. "I'd prefer if you stayed with miss Quiane for the remainder of the journey." Delivered as politely as he can instruct anyone to stay clear of him, Gideon exhales that breath he'd drawn in with a sigh and carries on the rest of the way to his wagon.
"Break's over!" He shouts as he comes up the steps, brandishing his cane in the air in the direction of the horses. "Bridle up and let's get moving! We have a lot of ground left to cover!" The teamsters begin quickly hitching the horses back up from their brief break, finishing their checks of the ropes holding down the supplies ont he rear wagon, and check the caravan's overall readiness.
As he reaches the door of his wagon, Gideon wags his staff in the air to get Karrn and Biatz's attention. "We're headed due west from here. There's a small forest at the base of the Aspodell, we're to find a trail there. The vanguard should hopefully have left our next way marker there. We'll likely reach it just after dark."
With that simple instruction, he swings the door to his wagon open and climbs inside, swinging the door shut. The four bodyguards Gideon has hired move to surround the wagon, with one riding on the back step as they await the caravan getting moving again.
* * * * *
Several hours of travel pass along the Andoran countryside. Gently rolling hills covered in vast expanses of grass and sparse tree cover eventually gives way to larger hillocks and more circuitous and winding paths taken to bring the caravan across the terrain. As the hours progress the weather begins to worsen, starting out as a light mist, the sky eventually lets loose a torrent of freezing cold rain that hammers down on the caravan.
Without enough room on the caravan to hold everyone, most are left out in the cold, wet elements. Karrn leads the way with Biatz across the hills, with the rain and wind hindering their view of the horizon, the going becomes tougher. More than once Karrn's senses nearly lead the caravan astray, but his coordination with Biatz allows them both to steer the wagon train on its proper course. With the ground wet and soft underfoot, the wagons begin to track wide ruts in the ground, leaving caked paths of mud in their wake. The mercenary bodyguards, cold and wet, trudge on alongside the slow moving group.
By the time the sun begins to set and the horizon darkens, the wind calms and the rain lets up ever so slightly. On the horizon, a forested ridge comes into view through the haze of the rain and a low-lying fog coming up from the standing pools of water that welled up in the lowlands between the hills.
Ahead of the caravan, Biatz and Karrn find a tall birch tree just outside of the forest grove, bound with a length of red cloth around the middle of its narrow trunk. This is the way-marker of the vanguard, indicating that they must have at least made it this far and moved on. Here, too, Biatz finds the trail Gideom mentioned that disappears into the pitch black forest.
Viewing all of this out one of his wagon windows, Gideon nods his head approvingly and moves to the back, opening the door. "Caravan, halt!" He drums on the side of his wagon with the wolf head of his cane. "Crew, make camp and get us out of this rain!" He then turns to Biatz and Karrn, grinning from ear to ear as he sees them by the red-marked tree.
"Good work."
With that, the caravan grinds to a halt and the teamsters quickly get about retrieving the pavillion tent from the supply wagon while leading the caravan to form a semi-circle of the three wagons. Quickly, the nine move to set up the enormous tent, driving tall stakes into the ground, setting up the tent poles and drawing down the curtained sides. Within a matter of minutes, a deep crimson and black tent bearing flags showing the Hightower family crest -- a tower breaking through clouds -- stands against the rain and cold.
Assisting in moving supplies, Aribessa helps to haul dry firewood quickly inside of the tent, while the remaining teamsters begin gathering up the food stores, bedrolls, sleeping tents and other camping supplies. This is the first night of the journey coming to an end.
Gideon Hightower and his company will not spent the night sleeping in puddles under wagons.
Neither would his team.
Not much in the way of RP happened after Lucent took off. That said, if people want to get together and continue the downtime RP that was set up at the end of session, leave a note in Gameplay thread; I'll try and have the server up, or failing that, there's google docs. I'd definitely love to throw Lyniza at some people sometime this week, so keep it in mind.
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Gabriel had probably seemed odd wearing his heavy cloak so early in the trek, but the moment the torrent of rain began the young man couldn't help but notice he was getting odd looks from those who were probably wishing they had a warning. Gabriel couldn't tell them the real reason why he was wearing the cloak so instead he simply ignored or shrugged off the looks, as if it had just been a coincidence. He walked the entire time too. Though part of him wanted to go into the alchemy lab where it was both warm and dry, Gabriel knew that such close quarters would make it impossible to hide his transformation.
When the caravan finally stops for the night and the teamsters begin to set up camp, Gabriel is surprisingly a great deal more active in assisting the teamsters this time around then he was when they were packing up the wagons. The young man knew it was risky and might reveal a little about his transformation, but he could not look at others struggling to set up a warm place for everyone to rest and not offer to help. So he was right beside Aribessa moving supplies, carrying far more then his lean frame lead people to believe he could. Not only that, but he was eerily quiet. He had talked the womans ear off earlier and the dramatic change in his vocals would not go unnoticed or unquestioned by someone as sharp as she was.
"Well. At least they're better prepared for this kinda weather than I was..." Lyniza muses as she watches the tents get set up. Arms are held close to her body, it's a bit colder than she's used to and the clothes she packed didn't really account for freezing cold rain. As she climbs back up on to the edge of the alchemy cart, she turns and plots down with a thud. A hand runs through her hair, before flicking water off into the air in front of her. With a sigh, she reaches into her pack and pulls a cloth; at least she can dry her hands, if nothing else. "So, what do you all make of all of this," she asks back to anyone still in or around the cart.
The freezing cold rain was unappreciated, though not unexpected to Biatz. Trudging through mud was not his idea of fun, but living with nature was his due, and he knew the good that came from rain. Glad to be done for the day, Biatz decides to turn in early. Normally he'd sleep out under the stars, but with rain there is no stars. He chooses his tree as normal, looking for one with wide branches to provide cover from rain, and sets his tent up under it. After dinner he falls asleep to the rain drops splattering on his tent.
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(No, really, that was it.)
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Each success is measured in part by how well failure is mitigated.
Having arrived in the foothills of the Aspodell mountains and having sought shelter on the edge of the Ashwood forest, the expedition led by Gideon Hightower has succeeded in the first leg of its journey. The sizable collection of tents and wagons set on the forest's edge is evidence of this. The enormous crimson pavillion tent flying the banners of house Hightower is surrounded by half a dozen personal sleeping tents and a wood-framed canvas lean-to for sheltering the horses from the driving rain.
For a long while, noise from the pavillion tent was profound; the sounds of laughter, conversation and meals being prepared carried on for a few hours after dark. Even Lord Hightower made a brief appearance to eat with his men and bolster morale as much as his largely silent presence could. By the late evening and under cover of dark, however, the teamsters, mercenaries and specialists all began to split up. Some headed for their own personal tents, others to their assigned positions for watch. Gideon retired to his wagon for the evening, and so the night seemed to end as a success.
Sleep, however, does not mean the night has ended.
Four and a half hours into the night, well past when Gabriel retired to his tent, only two men stand watch. Two of Gideon Hightower's personal bodyguards, each patroling the camp's torch-lit perimeter in their rain-soaked armor and cloaks. The first sign that something is amiss is a subtle one. They miss the scurry of several squirrels racing out of the woods through the camp, scuttling underfoot and splashing through puddles. The deer that comes crashing through the camp alerts the guards with its graceless careening into the pavillion tent. Cloth gets tangled in bloodied antlers and its horrible throaty cries ring through the camp. As it collides with the kettle and the still hot coals burning in the fire.
Screams of confusion are the first thing that wakes everyone. Screams of confusion, then horror, as portions of the now collapsed tent begin to smolder and catch alight from the hot coals. The workers trapped within the tent with the panicked deer begin to scramble out of the tents edges, just as the others are awakening to the sound. Smoke starts to plume up from the pavillion tent, and the croaking cries of the deer thrashing around in the canvas only adds to the confusion.
"What the hell is going on!?" Aribessa screams as she emerges from her tent, rain pouring down, musket brandished as if she had even the slightest idea how to use it.
Karrn emerges from his tent like a fuzzy cannonball. Living in the wilds encouraged being a light sleeper, after all. He takes in the situation.
"FIRE!" he roars, thrusting his greatsword point-down in the ground next to his tent before rushing to help pull workers from the pavilion, heedless of scorching his fur and the awful smell that entailed, though he remained on guard for any further, nastier surprises.
Emerging from the tent, Gabriel looks around with wide-eyes in the dark. Having been asleep and unbound to his celestial force, he can only see what the flickering torchlight perimeter allows him to see, and little else than that through the driving rain. Worried by the sounds of screams, he makes his way towards the pavillion tent with cautious hesitance.
From the other side of the camp, the door to Gideon's wagon opens and the patron of the expedition looks out to the camp with startled bewilderment. Firelight reflects subtly off of the backs of his eyes, like a cats, in the dark. He narrows his eyes, looking around the camp he regains his composure and is about to take a step out of his wagon when he hesitates, and looks to the forest as if having heard something.
As he hauls a hapless worker out of the fallen canvas by the scruff of his neck, Karrn pauses, ears twitching. He knows that sound. He really, really doesn't like that sound. "HERD-CRUSH! GET COVER!"
Screams of animal and people wake Biatz from his peaceful sleep. He starts up, and rushes to get outside the tent. Not entirely use to tents, he struggles for a bit to get out, but he eventually does. He surveys the seen laid before him. Seeing that the those that are in touble seem to be getting enough help, he watches the surrounding forest, trying to figure out what happened.
Kasimira's hand jerks mid-sentence, her reverie interrupted by the clamor. She would have gone to sleep hours ago, but her patron had started speaking to her, and when that happens she knows to start writing things down. She was on the verge of something profound, she feels, but apparently someone has to get drunk in the middle of the night and cause a commotion.
Kas slams the her journal shut in annoyance and presses her head into her bedroll, hoping to drown out the sounds; maybe if they calm down soon, she can re-enter her trance where she left off. Before long, she smells...smoke? She pushes out of her tent and, seeing the fire, stops abruptly. She stands as frozen as a spooked deer.
"What in the blazes...?" With that poor choice of words, Lyniza stumbles out of the flap to her tent, a small vial in one hand as she tries to work her other arm through the sleeve of a jacket. She steps forward, eyes cast first towards the now collapsed and burning tent, and then towards the forest as she picks up on the sound of - something. Her head tilts to the side, a quizical look on her face as she pauses amidst the chaos to consider the noise.
At least until she hears Karrn. Her eyes open wide and she spins back around, looking for some sort of protectio, a pouch tied to her waist jingling as she moves. "Move! Get behind something!" she yells for anyone who can hear her to hear.
The teamsters cough loudly as they're pulled from the pavillion tent, some manage to scramble out all on their own, others Karn has to drag out. All the while the deer trapped within is thrashing wildly, its throaty-cries soon joined by other noises from the forest. With a few people still tangled up in the tent, the horrifying realization of what Karrn shouted in warning comes to bear. From within the treeline a chorus of animal sounds emerge. First the shrill cries of birds and the sounds of flapping wings, as all manner of normally diurnal birds fly overhead. Sparrows and starlings flit between tents and out of sight, followed by nocturnal birds like owls. The sky is filled with birds, before finally the call of other deer drown out the birdsongs.
From the forest, branches explode away from the charging forms of three dozen deer crashing out of the woods as if they were ablaze. Behind them, two galloping moose, several possum and other forest animals all flee in terrified panic directly towards the camp. It isn't just here, though, animals can be heard fleeing from the forest further away than the camp. Their panicked motions and heedless charge is at times their own undoing.
The sound of birds impacting the sides of the wagons is a sickening pop-crunch of broken bones and muffled chirps. Trampling the already smoldering tent, one terrified moose crushes someone inside of the tent before barreling head-first into the alchemy wagon, knocking it up on two weels before it comes crashing back down. The moose lands on its side next to the wagon, next bent at a crooked angle. So too do deer smashing into the supply wagon, flop around on the ground before finding their footing and bound off into the treeline.
Unable to react fast enough and caught in the heaviest path of the stampede, Aribessa is struck directly by one of the charging moose. She is flung bodily some ten feet back from where she stood, her petite frame crashing down into the muddied earth, her musket landing somewhere nearby. She lay in a twisted, crumpled heap, dark hair matted down to her face and mouth partly open. Blood flows from a gash on her forehead and blossoms dark against the light color of her pants at the knee.
Gabriel is just barely able to spot a deer approaching, and while he is struck by the stampeding creature, he manages to avoid being crushed by the stamping hooves as he's knocked around on the ground, his hands clasped over his head for protection.
Karrn too finds himself in the path of one of the panicked animals, but his reactions are quick and agile, allowing him to roll with the blow of being struck by the stampeding moose. He crashes down on his back in the mud, but far enough away from the stomping hooves to avoid the collateral damage that Aribessa received.
By the time the dust clears, two of Gudein's guards lay on the ground, covered in freshly forming bruises and bloodied cuts. Four of the teamsters are unconscious, laying in the mud or partyly tangled up in the still smoldering tent. Their twisted bodies are speckled with blood and soaked with rainwater.
As quickly as it happened, the stampede is over and the animals that survived have continued to flee off into the night. It's at this moment that Gideon leaves his wagon, slowly, and with awed surprise at what just happened.
As the stampede broke through the camp, all Biatz could do was watch it happen. Nature had a force of it's own, and getting in its way does not save lives. As the herd moves on, Biatz analyzes the damage. He has no skills to help other people. His skills lie to the forest. He quickly gathers his sword and dons his armor, and seeks out Karrn
Karrn rolls back to his feet, teeth bared in a snarl as he looks around. He growls quietly as he watches the last vestiges of the stampede fade into the night. Could have been worse. He's honestly a bit surprised these people weathered it as well as they did. An unpleasant thought crosses his mind. Stampedes run away from something. Usually something mean.
"You! Help with armor," he growled at the nearest uninjured teamster. "Danger may come soon. Also, horses ran. Tell right person."
Seeing the many injured, Gabriel rushes over to the trampled pavillion tent and hurries to tend to the first of the injured teamsters. Checking him for injuries with shaky hands, the young man has never had to tend to injuries both so life-threatening before. Tearing strips of cloth from the teamster's shirt, he tries to stanch the bleeding as best as he can. Meanwhile, Gideon steps around his wagon and begins immediately approaching the alchemy wagon, striding up the few short steps to the door and disappears inside.
Hearing Karrn's call, one of the uninjured teamsters rushes to the gnoll's side, then follows him to his tent where his armor is kept. There's a wide-eyed look of shock on the young man's face, both from needing to field-dress a gnoll in armor, and also at having seen a pack of terrified animals stampede through the camp.
In the back of her mind, Kasimira hears a soft sussurus of whispers. Familiar. If not entirely comforting.
"It stirs."
That whisper, combined with the herd of death that just barreled past not thirty feet from her is enough to snap Kas out of her fear, oddly enough, though she doesn't move until she's sure the last of the woodland creatures pass. Though she still remains a good twenty feet from the flames, she circles what's left of the pavillion tent, doing a visual check for who's most critically injured.
Since that would either be Aribessa or two teamsters, and Aribessa and one teamster is already being attended to, she crouches over the remaining teamster. She uncorks a vial of some clear liquid and sprinkles it over his unconscious body, muttering what sounds like high-pitched gibberish as she does so. Over the next minute, the man's wounds start to close far faster than they ever could naturally.
Eyes wide in horror as she watches the stampeded plow through the camp - and several people get sent flying - Lyniza is quick to move once the animals are past, Aribessa being the first one she comes to. The alchemist drops to her knees, rooting around in the bag at her waist. "By the stars, what just happened? I've never seen anything like that in all my mind," she says out to anyone willing to answer, bandages falling from her bag and into her hand, followed by a murky looking solution held in a vial. She knits her bow as she tends to the fallen woman, first making sure she still breathes, and then patching her up enough to move out of the wet, muddy ground.
As soon as she finishes with her and is satisfied with her care job, she stands and moves on to the first hurt teamster she can find, repeating the process as much as her current supplies will allow her to. She looks back over her shoulder occasionally, back at the forest, wary of anything else emerging from within.
Emerging from the alchemy wagon a moment later, Gideon carries a satchel over one shoulder and a length of twisted wood with a blackened tip in the other. His boots make wet squelching sounds in the mud, rainwater beads off of his shaved head and trickles down his face. He surveys the trampled camp, brows furrowed and lips downturned into an obvious frown. Approaching Kasimira, Gideon unshoulders the satchel and holds it out to her. "Administer one to each of the survivors," is his flat instruction. "There's twelve. Return the remainder to the alchemy wagon when you're done."
Then, he offers out the thin, twisting branch of wood. "This is imbued with healing magic, fifty uses. I had intended to outfit you with these supplies once we reached the base of the mountain where I predicted we would face actual danger..." Distaste is evident in his voice. "A foolish mistake on my part."
Biatz approaches Karrn being helped into armor by someone. He hails Him. "Karrn! Something stirred those creatures, something not natural. When you are done there, we need to inform Gideon. He will probably have need of us."
Karrn watches the others as the frightened teamster helps him don his armor. They would survive. His ears swiveled towards Biatz as the other scout approached.
"Makes sense. Will not be long. Keep nose to air. Uneasy feeling."
Rising up from one of the teamsters, hands covered in blood, Gabriel seems visibly shaken by the events. However, there's a modest look of confidence on his face thanks to the man he bandaged up still breathing. With the assistance of the other teamsters who were unhurt and the uninjured guards, the remaining injured are pulled from the tent. Those that have not already been tended to are watched over by their compatriots, while Gideon surveys the damage.
"We're missing three horses," Gideon states in a firm, authoratative voice. "Karrn, Biatz, track them down. See if they haven't gotten too far. If we lose them we'll have to leave one of the wagons behind." Undeterred by the freak incident, Gideon seems wholly committed to the task ahead. "Gabriel, clean yourself up and keep watch. Your true eyes can see better in the dark than most of these men." Then, turning attention to Lyn, he simply gives an affirmative nod. Apparently she's already doing what he wanted her to.
Meanwhile, it's Lynizia that notices something out of place. Perched on the twisted wreckage of the pavillion tent is a tiny brown bird no bigger than the palm of her hand. Unafraid, it twitches its little wings and nuzzles its beak into its pinions, watching silently.
Lyniza is distracted from her task for a second as she catches eye of the small bird, barely noticing it's movement out of the corner of her eye. As she finishes patching up one of the teamsters, she sits up on her knees, head again tilted to the side as she considers the bird. "Weird," she remarks quietly, wondering to herself why it's not as spooked as all of the other animals.
When Lynizia makes that comment, the bird takes flight and disappears into the night on small wings.
Kas accepts the offered items from Gideon, tucking the wand in her wasteband and examining the contents of the satchel. She distributes what she assumes is a healing potion to anyone who is injured and has not received some sort of treatment, and obediently brings the rest back to the wagon. A thought strikes her, and she digs around in the wagon for bit, but doesn't find what she's looking for. "I knew we should have brought more devilwater," she mutters disappointedly.
Karrn nods, already looking towards where the horses had been tied for clues towards their direction. "Will not be hard. Can join watch at night also. Good nighttime eyes." Karrn rolled his shoulders and circled his tent as soon as the teamster finished with his scale mail, making sure it was on and settled properly, and not pinching any of his fur. "Good work," he says to the teamster with a too-toothy smile. Oops. Forgot again. Oh well. With a sniff of the air, Karrn began stalking the wayward mounts.
With a nod to Gideon, Biatz sweeps his hat onto his head and goes with Karrn to track down the horses. Between his darkvision and the freshness of the tracks, following them proves no real difficulty. It reminds him of his time with the orcs, always having to track down the stray animals trying to flee from the orcish brutality, and how many he 'couldn't find'.
* * * * *
It takes just over an hour to clean up the carnage wrought by the stampede. Dragging the remnants of the rainsoaked and partly burned pavillion tent aside to retrieve sleeping bags, cooking supplies and other tools damaged by the event. Kasimira becomes quickly accepted by the teamsters as she hands out magically brewed concoctions that not only numb pain, but wash away bruises and seal shut cuts with a warm-as-bathwater tingle. For the shaken, rainsoaked and hurt crew it is a welcome reprieve.
Over the hour, Aribessa regains consciousness, soaked to the bone with cold rainwater even though she had been moved back into her tent. Even after being administered one of the potions, the young engineer is still bruised and sore. But, perhaps most miraculously, she -- and all of the other crew -- are alive.
By the time Karrn and Biatz return, the rain has died down to a light mist and the fog has become thicker. Their arrival is one of celebrated return, for they lead the three missing horses back with them, thanks to their expertise at tracking over these hills. In their return, they can see that much of the camp has been cleaned up and the carcasses of the animals that can be moved have been. The moose, too large for anyone to lift, simply lays where it struck the supply wagon in twisted torpor.
A large fire has been lit in the firepit that once was covered by the pavillion tent. Most of the crew has gathered around it to dry off in the heat. Gideon, lit by the firelight, paces back and forth with one hand on his wolf-headed cane.
Seated by the fire, Aribessa looks at her mud-caked musket, shaking her head and tenderly checking the massive bruise on the right side of her face.
"Now that we're all back together..." Gideon finally speaks up after having contemplated this situation for a while. "Does anyone have any insight as to what it was that just happened?"
Biatz looks gravely off into the forest from the direction the stampede came from. "There is something out there. Something not natural to have caused the animals to flee like this. It's almost as if they didn't want to be here..." Biatz trials off, his eyes trying to pierce the mist the surrounds the camp and this mystery.
Karrn nods his head at Biatz. "Is called herd-crush. Very dangerous. Usually something scares animals. Biatz can probably tell more, I was busy with moose in face."He cracks a grin and looks over at the dead animals. "We can cut meat for later. If time, can cook stew in morning, be good for cheering." He licks his lips.
"I wish I did," Lyniza mumbles, chin resting on her palms as she sits on a mat by the fire. She looks contemplative and thoughtful, occasionally glancing around at Aribessa and the teamsters who were injured earlier. "I know I've never seen anything like that before." Karrn's ocmment about cutting the meat earns him a glance that has just a bit of disdain in it, Lyniza shaking her head a bit.
After another moment, she glances over at Aribessa and quirks an eyebrow. "How 'bout you? You doing okay since the wind got knocked out of your sails?"
Karrn nods his head at Biatz. "Is called herd-crush. Very dangerous. Usually something scares animals. Biatz can probably tell more, I was busy with moose in face."He cracks a grin and looks over at the dead animals. "We can cut meat for later. If time, can cook stew in morning, be good for cheering." He licks his lips.
"I wish I did," Lyniza mumbles, chin resting on her palms as she sits on a mat by the fire. She looks contemplative and thoughtful, occasionally glancing around at Aribessa and the teamsters who were injured earlier. "I know I've never seen anything like that before." Karrn's comment about cutting the meat earns him a glance that has just a bit of disdain in it, Lyniza shaking her head a bit.
After another moment, she glances over at Aribessa and quirks an eyebrow. "How 'bout you? You doing okay since the wind got knocked out of your sails?"
"I'm alright," Aribessa mutters, touching the bruise on her cheek with bare fingertips again. Closing her eyes and cursing under her breath, the young woman looks up and over to Lyniza, then back to the fire. "Could be a lot of things... a spell, some sort of creature that disturbed the animals..." Rolling her tongue over the inside of her cheek, Aribessa cranes her head to the side and considers the flame again. "Sure wasn't a wildfire."
Exhaling a sigh, Gideon closes his eyes and nods, one gloved finger tracing a notch in the wolf's head of his cane. "I can only imagine that this is somehow connected to the vanguard that have fallen out of contact. Unfortunately I am at a loss as to what could be the cause of such an event. These mountains have no history of supernatural threats, and we are still days away from the impact crater we're headed to." As he speaks, Aribessa looks up to Gideon through a tangled curtain of her rain-soaked hair.
"'It stirs,'" Kasimira ventures. "Something stirs."
"Wait," Gideon's brow twitches and his stare flicks over to Kasimira. "What did you say?" It only then dawns on him that what the witch had said was directed to the conversation; cryptically so.
"History or no, something supernatural lurks out there," Kas elaborates, mildly embarassed to have spoken up. "Don't ask me how I know, because the answer would make you think I'm crazy, but I know. Something I don't think we're prepared for yet."
Karrn snorts. "Crazy is in head. Finding prey-for-the-mind matters. If you are right, you are not crazy. Just strange."
Aribessa's attention settles on Kas at that elaboration. Shifting awkwardly in her seat by the fire, she looks up to Gideon. "Anything that *stirs* in the crater?" The question comes off as a bit sharp in tone, but her mood having been fouled by being trampled by a stampede of frightened forest creatures could be forgivable. Gideon notices the tone, but doesn't return it. All he does is shake his head and step away from the warmth of the fire.
"There isn't time to drain and cut the moose," Gideon nods in the direction of the dead animal. "We're leaving at sunrise. Lyniza, your duty will be to get the alchemy wagon back in order. Everything came off the shelves when it was struck. Karrn, Biatz," his calm stare levels at them, "you need to find the vanguard's trail once we set out. We'll be headed into the Ashwood forest, probably four or five hours. Then we'll be at the base of the mountain and the next waypoint... provided the vanguard set it up."
Lyniza frowns, looking over at Kas, then over the Karrn. "It's not unheard of, I guess. I wonder..." Digging into a pouch added to her belt since the incident earlier, she draws out her deck of cards, shuffling them in her hand. "Something's definitely not right. The horses weren't spooked until the stampede, and I guess some of the birds are fine. I saw one just hanging around afterwards."
Aribessa's blue eyes quickly square on Lyniza when she mentions the bird. Then, on clearing her throat, she rises to stand and runs one hand through her hair. "If we're head-set on leaving at dawn, I want to get whatever sleep I can."
Kas gives Karrn a half smile, appreciative of the vote of confidence. "In any case, we cannot tell you if we're safe for now or not. I don't have the instincts for these situations, so sunrise, then."
Karrn scooted a bit closer to the fire, enjoying the warmth on his fur. "If there is trail, we find it. If horrible monster ate them, it leaves trail too." His ears drooped slightly as he realized his attempted joke had likely fallen a bit flat, so soon after the stampede had injured caravaners, and he held his paws up to warm them. "Sleep is good idea. At next waypoint, I will look around and see if there are signs of crush-herd like here."
Biatz keeps staring into the forest, almost not seeming to hear Gideon. "Another thing I learned in Cheliax was that a fool doesn't head towards danger. Of course, none of them ever seemed to follow their own words." Biatz gathers himself emotionally. Answers lie in the wake of this journey, and he must see it through to the end. He turns to Gideon and smiles, his sabre teeth glinting in the fire light. "Of course, I was born to orcs, and I've never known an orc that doesn't run to danger. With you to the end."
Lyniza chuckles a bit as she rises up to her feet, head shaking. "Enjoy it, Aribessa! I promise not to slip anything slimy that broke into your tent," she remarks with a grin. She gives Gideon a nod and slips her hands into the pockets of her skirt as she turns and heads off to do her appointed job. "If I'm needed for anything else after I finish with the wagon, sing it to the sky. I won't hear it anyway," she adds as she feigns sleep for a moment before stepping out.
Biatz's statement to Gideon earns the faintest hint of a smile from the Chelish man. He looks up to the tracker, more serious than a moment ago. "I learned something in Cheliax too..." he says with a hint of somber tone. "The dead don't care, and the living care too much." It doubtfully holds much meaning to those gathered at the campsite, but to Gideon is seems to hold more sentiment than he lets on. Letting that be his parting, the nobleman hobbles back to his wagon, leaning on his cane for support as he does.
With that, the night continues onwards in the aftermath of the stampede, cold and damp. Though the starless night refuses to release any of its secrets, it has not come without leaving one whispered gift drifting through Kasimira Welter's mind.
It stirs.
"The dead don't care, and the living care too much."
It was something that Gideon said in the dead of night following the stampede. Those cold words lingered well in the minds of some of the expedition members come the foggy morning light. The weather had not improved much since the night prior, with a light mist falling from heavy, dark clouds that block out the sun. In the morning hours there is little joyful energy among the caravan, only the drudgery of breaking down the tents that survived the night and leaving those that didn't behind.
With the horses tied up to their respective wagons, the caravan departs from the campsite just an hour after sunrise. Once on the road, the groups trailblazers, Karn and Biatz, are at the head of the caravan ensuring that they find the proper trail into the Ashwood forest. Despite the earlier rain and the current inclement conditions, Biatz and Karn are able to ascertain the path that the vanguard team took into the forest. It helps that the vanguard left markers of their passing -- purposefully snapped branches, cut marks on trees -- to signal their course.
Over the first couple of hours the weather begins to improve, and while the forest canopy blocks out some of it, the appearance of the sun seems to put the mercenaries and teamsters walking and riding with the caravan in better spirits. When the sun emerges, Gideon takes his leave of the group and disappears into his carraige, content to watch the forest pass by out his partly curtained windows. On the trail, Gabriel and Kasimira travel together, conversing with one another about the previous night's events and the unusual behavior of the animals that fled from this very forest.
At the rear of the caravan, perched atop the supply wagon, Aribessa watches the sunlight filter down in golden columns between the colorful autumn canopy overhead. Leaves the shade of blood and gold fall down all around the wagons, most still rainslicked, sticking to whatever they land on. The trail itself is faint, though visible, partly obscured by beds of dead leaves and muddy soil.
In the alchemy wagon, Lyniza endeavors to get all of the alchemical reagents put back in their proper place after being rattled off of the shelves by the impact of a wayward moose. It has been a prolonged task, but finally much of the wagon's shelves and hanging mesh nets are full of bottles and vials. Notably, she has discovered that the wagon holds a case of ten flasks of acid that -- thankfully -- did not break when they cam ecrashing down off of their appointed shelf.
By mid-morning, the air has warmed some, but a cool, gentle breeze passes between the trees to remind the travelers that winter is approaching. In just a few scant hours, they should be halfway into the mountains and nearing their destination.
If the previous night's excitement is the only hardship they suffer, this journey may end well for them all.
Karrn stalks ahead with his peculiar near-quadrupedal gait, occasionally pausing to sniff at something particularly interesting or pluck a flower to pull out its stamen and lick the beads of sweet nectar. He seems to have put the stampede out of his mind and is entirely focused on the trail with an odd blend of animalistic focus and childlike playfulness; he's visibly pleased with himself over each sign of the vanguard he uncovers, almost like he's a cub playing hide-and-seek. The blood still staining his muzzle makes that a rather unsettling image, however, not helped by the slab of raw moose he wrapped in waxed cloth before they'd set out and occasionally takes a bite of.
Biatz saunters along, at peace with the way things are turning out. Yes the night before was a long night, and despite the excitement of the stampede, the drudgery of finding the horses and the oppressive weather and left Biatz feeling drained. However, as the sun broke through the canopy, a weight almost seemed to have been lifted from Biatz shoulders, and he felt that things might just turn out alright.
When not needing to look for the tracks of the vanguard, Biatz tries to enjoy the nature. Fall is a beautiful time of year, and it represents to Biatz the eventual ending of life, yet just around the corner new life comes. Last night was like Fall, and today is like spring, and he will enjoy every minute of it.
With a sigh, Lyniza looks down at the inventory list in front of her, scratching off another thing on it as she places a bottle of a yellow dust like material up on the shelf. Another nervous eye is given over to the acid flasks - along with another consideration to stow one or two of the in her bag for safe keeping-slash-later use.
She's been so focused on her cleanup that she hasn't really been paying much attention to the passage of time, but decides now is as good a time as any to take a break. Moving to the back of the alchemy wagon, she plots down at the edge,feet hanging over the side as she stares back out.
From atop the supply wagon, Aribessa keeps her attention trained up on the canopy overhead. A tiny bird flies past her, lingering for a few wingbeats at her side before buzzing past the alchemy wagon and disappearing back into the forest. She exhales a breathy sigh, blowing an errant lock of hair from her face before turning her attention ahead to the trail. As the caravan rolls on, something catches Biatz's attention, a subtle snapping and creaking of branches. One ear twitches reflexively, and the trailblazer looks back on the caravan in time to see a pair of small, dark shapes moving through the underbrush, dressed in filthy, tattered dags. At first it's hard to tell what they are, or what they could be, but in that same moment Biatz can see the quivers of arrows on their backs, and a moment later the sight of small bows in their spindly hands.
They've walked right into an ambush.
Karrn feels the fur on the back of his neck rise the moment before the barest flash of movement catches his eye. He bares his teeth in a snarl, annoyed by the sudden complication, and audibly growls when he spots the odd creature's bow. No, this wouldn't do at all. Not in his mountains. He bounds towards the figure in a flash, rising from all fours as he draws his crude greatsword in a practiced motion.
The black-clad figures spring into action quickly. Sudden, shrilling shrieks fill the air as they emerge from the underbrush and let loose with volleys of arrows. One of the small figures strikes one of Gideon's bodyguards with an arrow in the shoulder, spinning him around and knocking him up against one of the wagons. Another arrow comes sailing in and hits Gabriel, but the sound of a resounding clang off of some sort of armor concealed under his robe deflects the arrow, leaving it hanging by its arrowhead in his cloak. He turns around, seeing two more of the black-clad creatures scurrying out of the underbrush, their arrows whipping past. One of the teamsters takes an arrow in the side, stumbling over onto one knee, while another by the supply wagon is shot in the leg.
Cries of confusion fill the air as the creature Karrn approached backpedals through the underbrush and raises his bow, launching an arrow that Karrn jerks his head aside to dodge. Up close, the gnoll can see just what these creatures are: Sickly, thin and ragged looking rat people, whiskered with beady black eyes and something metallic shimmering on their skin beneath their black wrappings. It opens its toothy maw, shrieking something in its native tongue, before reaching back for another arrow.
An ambush? Biatz was to caught up with nature that he wasn't able to react to the figures until after they had let off a volley of arrows. Biatz lets out a hiss and rushes behind a nearby tree to hope to come up behind the nearest figure. His hat falls off in the process, but battle is one of the few times Biatz doesn't care as he raises his claws to prepare.
At the ambush, the teamsters scatter. Some try to head to the rear supply wagon for cover, while others weave between the horses attempting to get away from one side of the ambush, only to realize they've run headlong into another. Those that are injured struggle the most to get out of fire, but the ratfolk have the caravan in a pincer attack, flanked by snipers on all sides. The caravan drivers struggle to minimize their profiles, ducking down while grasping the horses' reins in an attempt to keep them from panicking and bolting.
Seeing the attack happening all around her, Kasimira quickly ducks away from Gabriel and makes her way over to Gideon's bodyguards. Raising her hands up towards herself, she exhales a forceful series of eldritch words in sybillic chant. As those strange words and sounds slip past her lips, a shimmering field of force ripples around her body like a heat mirage off of desert sand. Looking towards each of the snipers she can see, it's clear that she is formulating some sort of plan.
Rolling off of the supply wagon, Aribessa lands on the muddy ground with a squelching pair of bootfalls. She looks up to the treetops, whistles sharply once, and then advances on one of the ratfolk snipers as she pulls a long, wide knife out from her sleeve. Flicking her wrist the flings the knife at the archer, only to have the agile creature duck aside and the knife wedge itself into the bark of the tree behind it with a resounding thunk. Cursing to herself, Aribessa steadies herself and tenses in anxious anticipation.
Inside Gideon's carriage, there is the sound of movement, and all light goes out abruptly. No candlelight, no even the light of the opposite window, as if the entire carriage interior was swallowed by darkness. Thin, misty tendrils of black smoke issue out from gaps in the windows, twisting and curling around one another.
The ratfolk usually kept to themselves. Karrn gives himself a half-moment to muse on it even as he raises his sword for a vicious swing. The little thing had shot at him, and he isn't feeling merciful. Firing an arrow at someone carries certain consequences, one of which is that person's freedom to try to bisect you in return. It's the law of nature, and a law Karrn always follows. He begins a fairly unnerving chant in Gnoll, his tribe's battle song, and puts his strength into a mighty swing.
He misses horribly, as the ratfolk spins out of the way with astonishingly annoying adroitness. Karrn's chant takes on a bit of an angry edge.
The ratfolk seem endless, with each arrow they fire another appears out from the underbrush or from behind a tree, hissing epithets and curses as they fire on the caravan. The driver of the alchemy wagon is struck in the chest, sending him toppling back and down onto his side across the bench seat. Another of the fleeing crew takes an arrow in the back, crumpling him to the ground in the same moment that one of Gideon's bodyguards, already pierced by an arrow, takes another to the throat. He gurgles up a mouthful of blood and strikes the side of the wagon, coughing up more blood before finally collapsing to the ground in a convulsing heap.
Karrn's battle is a back and forth, with another arrow fired at him dodged narrowly, then another fired from a previously unseen ratfolk. Aribessa too nimbly dodges the two arrows fired at her, watching both of her attackers with anxious eyes. The creatures seem unrelenting in their assaults, pressing on and seeming to attack at random.
Letting out a loud grunt of frustration, Gabriel rips the arrow out of his cloak and charges the nearest of the ratfolk. He strides over the ground, cloak flaring out behind him, and when he finally gets within reach, he lashes out with one arm, revealing a bladed bracer lined with serrated spines of metal. They cleave into the rat's face, rending flesh and pinning it up against the tree as the once mild-mannered young man seem driven by some wholly otherworldly force. He rips the blades out, dropping the creature to the ground in a heap.
With the ambush already well under way, Gideon's bodyguards finally go into action. The armored and well-armed soldiers fan out, readying their longswords and shields as they do. Two march away from the right flank of the caravan, circling around one of the ratfolk. One drives it to the side with a feinted thrust of its sword, leading the ratfolk into the sweeping blade of another that cleaves into its neck and shoulder, spraying blood over his shield and crippling the creature. It lets out a pained shriek before collapsing to the ground.
On the opposite side of Gideon's wagon, one fo the bodyguards hangs back, raising his shield defensively and readying his sword in front of Kasimira to ward off attacks, while his compatriot moves in to assist Karrn. The bod
"Wh-what in the world?" Lyniz stutters out frantically as she begins to hear the yelling and commotion. She turns back around, reaching into the wagon behind her. It takes a quick grab, but she reaches her bag easily enough, pulling it up to her as she hops down from the wagon. A hand pulls one of her sickles out, fingers tightening around the grip as she peers over to Gabriel, and around the corner to see the madness that has begun to unfold.
"This is why I've got t' stop daydreamin'," she muttters to herself as she scans the area around her. She spots one of the creatures close by, and first instinct has her hand moving into her bag to retrieve something she had mixed a few nights previous, but better sense prevails, as starting a fire and spooking horses may well be frowned upon. "Alright... here goes nothin', I guess!" Wit a quick burst of movement, she rounds around the corner of the wagon and to the first one of the rat creatures she spots, spinning the sickle in the palm of her hand. She stops as she reaches it and lashes out in the way she'd been taught by her mother, sending a spray of blood spurting out as the pointed edge cuts in and rips fur and flesh.
As the creature falls to the ground, Lyniza breathes deep and unsteady, looking up and around once again.
Biatz takes an arrow to the shoulder as he moves forward towards the rat. He grunts through the pain and rakes out with his claw, catching the ratfolk in the chest, cutting deep gashes into the flesh as the rat folk crumples in front of him. With no time to rest as more ratfolk abound, Biatz bears his teeth, ready to attack again.
Watching the teamsters scatter under the ambush, Kasimira stays close to the bodyguard watching over her. But her focus, balefully, turns to one of the rats. Narrowing her eyes, she meets its beady stare, and after but a moment the rat begins trembling and letting out small, squeaking chattering sounds, its limbs trembling, ears folding back and eyes growing fearfully wide in sight of the witch. Invading the creature's mind, Kasimira inspires fear in the assailant, and it in turn views her with her with superstitious awe and terror.
Watching Lynizia take out one of the attackers, Aribessa swiftly withdraws another dagger from her sleeve, slinging it at the archer she'd been attacking earlier. This time the creature doesn't dodge in time, and the knife cuts clean through its arm in a long gash. It shrieks in pain and staggers away from the injury, while Aribessa watches its movements intently. Chatter -- all the while chatter -- fills the air from these creatures, hissing and cursing and shrieking in their ratlike tongue at the caravan.
From his carraige, Gideon emerges with his wolf-headed cane in one hand, but his body surrounded by a swirling nimbus of ephemeral shadows flecked with pinpoints of starlight. He looks around the forest floor, listening to the sounds of combat, then grips the metal head of his cane tightly with one hand while gripping the haft with another. With one twist of his hand, his walking cane reveals a slender blade concealed within -- much like that of a rapier -- which he then angles point-down towards the forest floor.
"Inshi kana Kuruth, tenmah ah, Thakhfarah ursufgutha ina dil kuruthima..." Karrn growls as he stalks towards the ratfolk he's spied by a tree up ahead, his grip tightening enough to make the leather of his sword's grip creak. He doesn't seem to acknowledge the bodyguard's assistance, fully focused on the new, bloody hunt. He moves as quickly as he does deliberately, closing the distance with his prey.
The ratfolk, now dropping from attacks, do not seem deterred. The three remaining open fire, one launching an arrow at Aribessa who leaps out of the way of the arrow, finding it striking the side of the supply wagon. Another fires through the trees at one of the fleeing teamsters, hitting him between the shoulders and sending him face down into the mud beside the alchemy wagon. The last tries to back away from Karrn's terrifying advance, with both the war chant drumming in his ears and Kasimira's horrifying evil eye wracking his mind, he of all of them seems ready to flee. But the hooded ratfolk archer stays his ground save for a few feet of distance, his beady eyes glaring at Karrn through the fear.
Seeing an arrow fired out from behind one of the nearby trees, Gabriel breaks away from the creature he felled and quickly hurries across the forest floor, leaping over roots and stones to close in on his next target. As his cloak flows and swirls around him, bits of gleaming armor he was not wearing earlier can barely be seen, along with those viciously bladed bracers.
Spreading out further, the bodyguards move on to continue their task at hand. Two move to assist Biatz deeper in the treeline, moving side by side, they fall into a single-file line. The lead bodyguard advances on one of the ratfolk, splitting its skull open with a sword strike that drops it down to the forest floor, partly obscured by the underbrush. As it falls, Biatz can see when its hood falls back, that parts of its face are missing patches of fur, and where there was once fur, there is instead strange iridescent scales of irregular metal.
Following Karrn in a hustle, one of the other bodyguards moves to stay by the gnoll's side, while one remains beside Kasimira, continuing to defend her.
This time, Lyniza follows Aribessa's lead, her eyes sliding over to look at the rat creature off to the side. She takes a quick fe steps, again spinning the sickle into a better, more comfortable position in her grip, and with the last step, she sends the sickle spinning through the air with as mighty a throw as she can muster - which this time doesn't seem to be much of one.
Still, all the practice pays off as the pointed end of the sickle drives into creature's shoulder, causing it to cry out in pain and collapse to the ground. The Alchemist smiles, seemingly quite proud of herself as she dusts her hands off against each other. "Well then. I'm glad that actually works!"
Huddled behind trees, the remaining teamsters that were not struck by arrows try to stay out of sight, crouching low and covering their heads as the battle progresses.
With all threats around him gone, and knowing it would take to long for him to get to any more ratfolk, instead he moves a bit into the forest to make sure there were no more surprises in store. He spots something on the other side of a deadfall tree, black and clothlike in a heap.
Kasimira slips away from her bodyguard, moving towards some of the wounded laying face down in the ground. As she clears the distance, the auburn-haired witch quickly sweeps her attention around the treeline, watching for any archers training their bows on her. With all of the ratfolk occupied, she withdraws the wand Gideon gave her from her belt.
Locking eyes with Lynizia for a moment, Aribessa gives her one tense nod of approval for the daring rescue. Then, spotting Biatz deeper into the woods, Aribessa hustles over to the aasimar. Hopping over a few broken branches and large rocks, she comes to rest a few feet away looking into the woods. She doesn't notice the heap that Biatz had, instead her attention is settled further out. "What do you see?" She seems to be asking of Biatz, though at that question, a small bird whips past her and disappears between the tall trees.
With the area around his carraige cleared, Gideon limps over to the bodyguard that stuck close, watching the bodies of the fallen ratfolk for movement as the last are closed in on. "What the hell happened here?" The Chelish nobleman curses in a rough growl, "How could we get drawn straight into an ambush?" For the moment, all of his composure has bled away to a sense of frustration and anxious energy. The shadows and starlight swirling around him undulate and ripple on some ephemeral wind, staying like a shroud around his body.
"Kuruthima imin numuth suhu ina mun, hugunbath askska viruhk hirim, ur nu zi'ir mi sith githul kal..." Karrn's slow chant grows faster as he lunges to the side, hurtling past the ratkin. He twists in mid-stride and rebounds, carrying himself into a swing meant to press his foe back into the tree. His attacks bear a marked contrast to the bodyguards' practiced, disciplined strokes; with the heat of battle glinting in his yellow eyes, spittle flying from his snapping, bloodstained teeth, Karrn resembles nothing so much as a wild beast with a greatsword in place of claws. He lets his movement carry his blade in a heavy arc. The ratfolk's body hardly slows Karrn's steel as the sword smashes through its side, pounding it to the side in two pieces and a spray of blood.
The ratfolk engaging Gabriel rolls away from the celestial channeler, dropping into a crouch and drawing an arrow back. "Skierr'ke kash t'kal!" It shrieks before loosing the arrow. It flies unerringly towards Gabriel, punching into his shoulder and spinning the young man around with a grunt of pain. The rat creature reaches back for another arrow, but finds its quiver horrifyingly empty. It bares its sharp teeth, drops its bow and lets loose a shrill war-cry.
Gritting his teeth, Gabriel forces himself forward and lunges at the unarmed creature. One bracer strike swings too high as the clever attacker rolls between Gabriel's legs. But as it rises to stand, it takes backhand across the face, splitting its mouth open and perforating its cheekbone, sending the scrawny creature crumbling to the ground in a pool of its own blood. Breathing heavily and bleeding from several wounds, Gabriel looks around the forest with shoulders heaving and blood staining his cloak and forearms.
Karrn stands over the ratfolk's corpse for a few moments, letting the thrill of a successful hunt ebb. He wipes his sword clean on the creature's cloak, grimacing in distaste as he sees the patches of metal fused into its flesh. Unnatural. He wouldn't be eating this one. With a nod of gratitude to the bodyguard for his earlier help, Karrn makes his way back towards the wagons to assess the damage. "Strange rat-prey is dead. Safer now. Tend hurt ones. Will scout for more danger almost-here." He looks around, sniffing the air, before heading for Biatz. The odd metal needed talking about.
It takes a moment for Lyniza to process that the danger has - for the moment - faded. But once she does, her shoulders slump and she sighs, moving to recover her thrown sickle. Silently, she starts to make her way from crew member to crew member, teamster to teamster, specialist to specialist, making sure that everyone is okay and more or less unharmed - or tending to those who have been injured in whatever manner she can.
Aribessa looks deeply into the forest, her brows furrowed, a worried expression on her face. Over by the wagons, Kasimira joins Lynizia in tending to the injured, bringing to use the wand of healing power that Gideon had given to her the previous night. Kneeling over the bodyguard that took an arrow to the throat, she silently breaks the arrow off at the haft, then slides one end out and applies the wand to the injury, sealing his throat shut with a gurgling cough of life. Shifting her attention to the other, less seriously injured, Kasimira knows there will be much work to do.
"There is something on the ground there." Biatz replies to Aribessa. He moves toward it, kneeling on the ground. He rolls it over, revealing another ratfolk, this one already dead. A bandaged wound from a gunshot tells a tale, one Biatz doesn't like. "Gideon!" He yells. "It looks like these ratfolk hit the vanguard!" Biatz growls under his breath. This is not good. Any feeling of peace Biatz had before, is gone again. As a leaf falls on the dead ratfolk, he wonders if this trip may yet be the death of him.
Across the way where Gideon's wagon stopped, the leader of the expedition speaks with one of his men. Looking apologetically at Gideon, the bodyguard he berated shakes his head and looks at the bodies of the fallen intently. "I-- I don't-- They just came out of nowhere, Sir." The guard listens to the sound of splitting bone behind one of the trees from Karrn's lethal strike, then looks back to Gideon. "I'm sorry, Sir. This won't happen again." Scowling, Gideon sheathes his sword-cane and twists the wolf head clockwise to lock it in place.
"See to it that it doesn't." Then, looking around at the bodies, Gideon's brow lowers and his lips downturn into a scowl.
"Finish them all off."
They say the dead don't care, and the living care too much. But what they also say is that the dead don't talk, and in that silence the living keep their secrets.
All secrets to silence.
At the request from their commander, Gideon's bodyguards split up. Two remain back at the caravan to keep an eye on the survivors and injured of the attack, one -- critically wounded and being tended to by Kasmira -- remains by the alchemy wagon with a bloodied cloth wrapped around his neck. The last bodyguard begins the process of marching into the woods to find the fallen ratfolk, sword drawn and fully intending to finish them all off to ensure that they do not become a problem in the future.
Gabriel, crouched over one of the dead ratfolk, pulls back its tattered hood with a disconcerted look on his face. Lifting up the creature's limp head, he looks at the way light reflects off of the iridescent patches of metal woven into its face and one eye. His brow crinkles, lips downturn into a frown and it's clear he doesn't know what to make of it.
Watching the lone bodyguard go stomping off into the underbrush, Aribessa slouches away from Lynizia to inspect one of the corpses on her own. The forest is quiet, now, save for the distant call of birds in the treetops and the rustle of wind in the high branches. Blood, too, is on that wind.
Gathering together after the attack, the teamsters that were not crippled by the ambush tend to the injuries of the others. Worry and concern is painted clearly across their faces. Now, not only has the vanguard gone missing, but they have been attacked by local denizens of the forest. Between this and the animals' odd behavior on the prior day it unsettles them to a great and readily apparent degree. While they knowingly signed on for a dangerous assignment, they do not appear to have expected it to be dangerous in the fashion that it has become. The environment -- weather -- is the enemy they expected to face, not this. Whatever this is.
Karrn, almost as an afterthought, picks up his kill and drags it over to Gideon, tossing it on the ground. "Strange. Not usually out and fighting. Metal in them." He helpfully indicates the odd patches of metal fused into the creature. "Can look for trail, see where strange-rats came from. Maybe find vanguard leave-behinds too." He looks around, sniffing at the wind. "Bad signs. Wish Mother here for god-vision."
With the soft thump of the ratfolk's body falling to Gideon's feet, the Chelish aristocrat tightens one hand's grip on his cane. Experimentally, he nudges the tip of the cane against the metal scales on the ratfolk's cheek, turning its head from one side to the other. "I wish I could say I knew what this was," Gideon quietly notes, one brow raised subtly higher than the other as he regards the creature. "I've never seen such an affliction before. I'm left to wonder if they did this to themselves, somehow..."
Looking up to Karrn, Gideon pulls his cane away from the corpse. Nodding once, Gideon motions indirectly to the forest. "See what you can find. If any members of the vanguard are still alive, I'd be interested to hear what happened to them."
Karrn bares his teeth in a savage smile as he lopes into the forest to the west of the caravan, where the first few attacks had come from. This is his element, and he revels in it. The gnoll prowls around trees and over rocks, searching for any of the tiny signs of passage his father had taught him as a cub. He quickly zones out, submerging his thoughts entirely beneath the joy of hunting and finding answers. The wrong-rats were new, and that made him curious. And as always, beneath the rush of the NOW, of the animal impressions and instincts, his curiosity burned like a furnace, urging him on.
Heaving out another sigh, Lyniza stands up from one of the injured after giving them a once over, and looks around the camp. Hands propped against her waist with her sickle still poking out from one hand, she shakes her head and looks up at the skies. "So, I give up. Does ANYONE know what's going on here? First that stampede, now this..." She was already much lower on her personal supplies than she had expected, and she was beginning to feel like some execrable force was watching over them. "I almost feel like the stars themselves align against us," she mumbles, looking back to the alchemy cart where she had stashed her harrow deck. Perhaps she would do a reading tonight.
At Lynizia's loud comment, Kasimira looks up and intently in the alchemist's direction. Then, after another moment, she looks back down to the member of the crew whose injuries she is tending to. Gideon, in turn, makes a slow approach over to Lynizia after having sent Karrn off. "I suspect it has to do with what we're searching for..." the aristocrat opines, "though I've no proof of that. The stories of the locals did say that the region of the crater was cursed, that those who ventured to it died. They never said how." It is with a half-hearted shrug that Gideon offers that up, and curiously he looks to Lyniza. "I'm hoping that the lot of you have some better assessments when the time comes."
"It could be a curse," chimes Gabriel as he approaches, cleaning his hands off from the blood of the ratfolk. His voice deeper, more mature sounding, he still shrouds his features with a hood and his heavy robe. Gideon turns to address the summoner, a brow lifted in query. "The metal on these creatures' skin doesn't look like it was applied by any mundane source. There is no heat burns, no spell I know of that could do this. But I've heard of curses that turn men to little more than sand..." Gideon nods in recognition to this. "Perhaps that's-- I don't know. This is like nothing I've ever read of before."
Away from the others, as Karrn hurries around the area beyond the caravan, telltale signs of the ratfolk's approach begin to become clear. Snapped branches, blood on leaves, footprints in the mud. There were so many of them, that even with their small size they left a noticeable trail that seems to run parallel to the road the caravan is on.
Prey that is also prey-for-the-mind. Pleased. Karrn sniffs at their trail and, very carefully and experimentally, touches a drop of the blood to his tongue, comparing it to the usual salty copper taste. Then, as his instincts demand, he follows the trail ahead.
As the rush of combat and the pounding of his pulse fades away, peace does not return to Biatz. However, thinking does. He drags a claw along a patch of metal on the dead ratfolks face. Flakes of metal scratch off, rolling across the check of the creature and gently falling onto the grassy forest floor. He whispers to himself "Nature doesn't have metal. What kind of abomination is this." He stands, staring off into the forest, rubbing bits of metal between his furry fingers, before releasing them. His ear twitches, at the talk from the caravan, and he turns to approach Gideon. "Gideon, it looks like these ratfolk have attacked the vanguard. That may mean that we got a reduced number of them. Who knows how big of a force may have attacked them."
Looking over to Biatz as he approaches, Gideon offers him a slow nod of agreement. "Some of them looked to have been previously injured," the nobleman concedes, "I don't know what to make of that, though. Maybe it's a territorial dispute, maybe we crossed...." he waves one hand ambiguously in the air as if trying to define some sort of line, "...I don't know some sort of boundary. It still doesn't explain their condition, but, neither will standing here wondering about it."
Giving one last nudge to the corpse at his feet with one booted toe, Gideon looks up to where Karrn disappeared to in the woods. "It looks like he has something. Once we're ready to move, we should press on. We're working on limited daylight and we have no idea where the next waypoint will be. If another one was even established..."
Rolling her shoulders, Lyniza frowns, as she has been ever since the mention of a curse came up. It's time's like this she'd walked more in her mom's path, but ultimately it's neitehr here nor there. "Could it be alchemical in nature?" she inquires as she looks back at the ratfolk she had felled earlier. "Graftings of some sort would probably leave scarring and visible damage, but with all the things you can do with the right potion or spell..." She motions over to Aribessa as she walks over to one of the fallen attackers, intending to give it a once over.
Coming over from where she was investigating one of the corpses, Aribessa cagily watches Lyniza for a moment, then climbs into the back of the alchemy wagon without a word. Gideon affords her a brief look, but passess off her attitude as nothing of concern, given how shaken the rest of the crew is about what just happened. "Good work on not losing anyone," Gideon commends to those still in earshot, turning to head back to his lead wagon, then halting. "Let me know if you find else anything out."
"Sir," Gabriel interjects, eliciting another pause from Gideon. "I was... do you think we could speak, in private, for a moment? I have some concerns I wanted to raise, but-- there's no need for it to be public." Just as Gabriel is saying that, Gideon's bodyguard emerges from his circuit of the camp, wiping blood off of his sword on the side of his trousers. Gabriel's lips press together tightly, and a slow sigh escapes him before he looks back to Gideon. The Chelish nobleman takes a moment to assess the situation and Gabriel's attitude, before motioning towards his wagon.
"By all means," Gideon quietly notes, letting Gabriel lead the way.
Now quite far away from the camp, Karrn has discovered that the trail of the ratfolk continues to follow the path the trailblazers of the vanguard have left for the expeditionary force. Perhaps they too were following it, maybe in the thinking it led back to the vanguard's source. Whatever their intent, the ratfolk have been shadowing the trail about fifteen feet off of the path. This could go on further, but Karrn can only barely see the caravan behind him now. Going any further would put a greater distance between he and the people he's to be assisting in leading in this direction.
Biatz looks around, trying to see some sign of a previous battle here. However, he can't see anything outside of what just occured. /If they were attacked, it might not have been here. Maybe the dead one was just a scout./ Upon his searching, he notices his hat still laying on the ground. A brief breeze catches the hat, causing it to tumble up to his feet. Normally he would call that coincidence, but recent events have lead him to be superstitious. He watches his hat for awhile, until another breeze blows, and he stops it from blowing away with his foot. He bends over and picks it up, squashing it on his head in an attempt to squash his fears. He growls a bit and flexes his claws, trying to release a bit of the tension, but from a look of fear from one of the teamsters, he stops. "Apologies." He doffs his hat in a slight bow, and moves to the front of the caravan to wait for when he is needed.
Karrn briefly considers following the trail farther, but decides against it. The caravan is his pack, at least for now, and while it wasn't like a true pack he shudders to think of the trouble all those civilized people would get into or stir up stomping around the mountains. They needed him to take care of them. While most of his tribe would have found them intensely irritating, Karrn found them kind of hilarious. Sort of like new cubs. With a resigned sigh, he turns back and heads back towards the caravan, resolving to keep checking the trail.
Her frown deepening as Aribessa seemingly elects not to help her, Lyniza decides not to dwell on it as she continues over to the rat creature she had slain earlier. With a grimace she plops down on her knees, staining her dress with mud, and begins to draw tools out from her Alchemist's bag. What follows is as brief an inspection as she can manage, too caught up in the matter to really notice anything else around her.
She hums as she runs her hands p and down the body, pausing as she comes across the metal anomalies. Deadweight arms are lifted up and given a quick look over, tools used to hold dead eyes open as she looks into them for any further signs of anomaly. With a grunt she rolls it over, drawing out one of her knives and cutting a bit of cloth so that she may see under it, hand running across cold skin, fur, and metal as she looks for signs of trauma, mundane or mystical. Finally, the most gruesome part comes - the part she dreads the most - as that knife is flipped around in her hand and she begins to cut through the skin. Her eyes are closed for the initial cut, but a steeled stomach finds her and she continues, first checking the colour and texture of the blood, then proceeding to actually remove - or at least attempt to - some of the creature's metallic hide in the hopes of examining it further later.
Cursory investigation shows the unusual nature of the metallic flesh, papery and thin -- much like Lyniza knows human flesh is, just in many more condensed layers tighter packed. As she feels the transition between flesh and metal, there's a subtle raising of the skin and blistery quality and the edges are coarse and leathery. On a few rubs with her fingertip, the skin rolls away in dead sloughs revealing more metal beneath, then eventually reddened and tender flesh just a little further out. This one, injured as it was in combat, has only recently expired and all of its internal fluids are still fresh and warm, making this all the more disconcerting.
Once Lyniza begins the process of peeling away the sheeted layers of metallic flesh, a more horrific discovery is found. Having cut into the bicep of one of the ratfolk, Lyniza discovers that beneath the metal there is corded copper fibers that resemble -- outwardly -- muscle tissue, but seem to be attached to the bone the way tendons are. Blood flows between these copper fibers and other soft fatty tissue is still present. Curiously, less than half of the veins beneath the skin are actually made of flesh, but appear to be flexible hoses of corrigated metal. By the time Lyniza cuts down to the elbow, the metallic components have given way entirely to flesh in a gradual transition.
She has no frame of reference for what this is, except some sort of terribly invasive augmentation.
These ratfolk are half humanoid, half constructs.
"By the gods," she breathes out, resisting the urge to bolt upright with surprise as she unveils the "prize" hidden beneath her exploratory procedure. "Gideon!" she shouts back over her shoulder, eyes still locked on the... thing in front of her. "These aren't //people//! I mean- they never were, but- //just get over here//!"
A hand moves to her jaw, rubbing as she considers the creature-machine in front of her. She'd never heard of or seen anything like this at Golemworks - not that she imagines it would be common by any stretch of the imagination. "Who in the world did this to you...?" she inquires quietly as she leans back down, continues to attempt to peel away the layers further. "This is going to be trouble, for sure. I've never seen anything like this, and I can only imagine what this means for the local population." Or whoever did this, she adds silently as she stares down at her knife, dripping with fluid.
Nearly to his wagon, Gideon halts when he hears Lyniza's cry. Shifting to look back at the alchemist, he furrows his brows and is unable to keep Gabriel's curiosity from being piqued. Reluctantly, he returns to where Lyniza is performing her "autopsy" of the creatures, visibly uncertain about her enthusiasm. "What did you-- " he cuts himself off when he sees the exposed innards of the ratfolk, his nose rankling even as Gabriel gives a whistle of surprise, leaning in to get a better look.
"I've... never seen anything like this before." His eyes flick up to Lyniza, "have you? I mean... what do you think did this? Some sort of... magical research?" Beginning to ramble, Gabriel places a hand on his chin and stands up straight, brows furrowed in confusion. "Why would they even let this happen to them?"
Cautious, Gideon looks down to the body and slowly shakes his head. "Bring it with us if you want to keep studying it. But," he motions with his wolf-headed cane to the alehcmy wagon, "keep it in there. Maybe Aribessa can give you some assistance discerning its capabilities."
Karrn prowled back into camp, in a fairly cheerful mood. He was alive, after all, and the caravan had survived, so no use dwelling on it. He caught a tang of fresh blood, however, and followed it over to the dissected ratfolk. "Strange. Metal not supposed to be inside." He seems totally oblivious to having stated the obvious.
"It is if you're a golem or some other kind of construct," Lyniza asserts to Karrn, shaking off her bladed instrument as she rises back up to her feet. "I think bringing it might yield better results, but I don't //really// want to leave it just lying around in case it's not really... dead? Deactivated? I have no idea what to call this." The alchemist seems just as curious as she is worried, hands returning to her hips. "We can find some way to secure it until I can look at it again."
Glancing over to Gabriel, she shakes her head. "I've never seen or heard about any of this in my time working in Magnimar. I'm just as lost as you are." Her expression takes a grim turn as she looks down at the floor, lips quirking side to side. "As to why... maybe they didn't have a choice. Magic is not always so benevolent, and this certainly wasn't done in any mundane way."
"I can cut off arms and legs," Karrn offers helpfully. "Even if construct get back up, hard to hurt us if in many bits."
The words coming from behind him shake Biatz out of his reverie as his ear twitches, knocking his hat off again. Swearing he's going to find a way to secure his hat as he picks it up and dusts it off, he turns to look at the people gathered. Biatz has had enough of these creatures, and is able to piece together enough from what people are saying to know he has no desire or need to look. The thought of torn open flesh didn't make him queasy, because if it did he never would have survived with the orcs, he just wanted to be done with the ratfolk. He didn't like this perversion of nature, and now this journey had new meaning. To put an end to the source of it. He places his hat back on his head, and turns back to the forest, watching and waiting for whatever is to come.
Looking from Lyniza to Karrn and back again, Gideon gapes for a moment, then shakes his head slowly. "There's storage crates in the rear wagon, load it in and nail it shut if you're concerned about it. It's going to start rotting, though, unless we find a way to preserve it. If it starts to stink before we get to the camp, you'll have to pitch it into the woods, I'll not have it attracting anything that feeds on carrion." Offering a look to Karrn, Gideon affords him a nod. Turning his back on the corpse, he rests a hand on Gabriel's shoulder to turn him around.
"Biatz, Karrn, get ready... once that thing is loaded in a box, we're leaving." With that, Gideon begins limping back to his wagon, using his cane for support as he does.
The gnoll grinned a bit and unsheathed his greatsword, holding its jagged edge over the ratfolk. If Lyn would let him cut it apart, maybe he could see more of its insides. They were interesting. "You want? Can do before we go back to travel."
The words are barely out of Lyn's mouth when Karrn hefts and swings, tearing through the ratfolk's arm with little effort, though still more of a jolt than he'd expected. He pauses just for a moment to look at the exposed joint before proceeding to cut off the remaining limbs. "Easy to store now." Karrn sounds altogether too perky as he wipes his blade clean and resheaths it, then picks up both legs.
Easy to store. That's certainly one way of putting it.
* * * * * *
Once the grisly task of putting the dismembers portions of the small ratfolk's corpse in canvas sacks, then storing them inside of a nailed-shut wooden crate, was complete the crew of the expeditionary force was ready to continue following the trail left by the vanguard. Shaken by the ambush, the teamsters were noticeably jumpy. Despite their injuries having been tended to, most of them are still sore and wounded to limited degrees. It will take more than a good night's rest to restore their morale, but that they did not have to bury any of their own eased that notion somewhat.
After a few hours of travel through the forest, Karrn and Biatz begin to notice a discernible upwards shift of terrain and a clearing of the land more sparse forest cover. Eventually, the wagons rumble and jostle through rocky terrain over rolling foothills that wind serpentine paths towards the base of the Aspodell mountains. Near seven hours after they set out, with a light drizzle falling from the sky and the tree cover being little more than intermittent presence of stick-bare birch trees Karrn and Biatz discover a tell-tale sign of the vanguard. Rising up some fifty feet from the hills is a dead tree, likely struck by lightning years ago. Most of its branches have fallen off, and the swath of red cloth tied to the trunk flap and gutter in the wind. A message also has been carved into the trunk of the tree for the team.
"No suitable camp here, bear country. Caves up in the higher foothills. Scout says there's a good site
a few more hours up the mountain with wind cover. We'll mark the path ahead. Be careful, animals are acting strange, like they sense something in the air.
- I.H."
It looks like there's still more road to go, but the hour of the day is getting late and there may not be enough daylight left to go...
<< | | | | >>
As the wagons roll up to the dead tree, Gideon opens the door of his carriage and climbs out onto the back step, squinting against the drizzle. Nodding in affirmative recognition of one of Hollows' signs, he climbs down off the back of the wagon and starts walking alongside it, looking up to the driver of his wagon before continuing on ahead. "What do we have!?" Gideon shouts ahead to Biatz and Karrn, running one gloved hand over his head to wipe beads of water from his bald scalp.
Karrn approaches Gideon, looking somewhat uncomfortable, though not unused to being wet. His fur is plastered to his lanky frame now, though, actually making him look a bit smaller. "Vanguard was here. Left note. Bears in area, unsafe camp. Caves up trail but take until after sunfall to find. Horse-men tired and hurt. May not want climb more, but wounded. May bring bad things in night."
Biatz followed Karrn to Gideon. The water from the rain dripped off the sides of his hat. Like Karrn he's had his fair share of rain, but he didn't particularly like the smell of wet fur, which proved a problem for him. He kept as much of himself as covered as possible, which didn't prove to difficult as he usually did that anyways. After Karrns announcement, Biatz adds "I believe the Chelish phrase for this would be, 'Up a creek without a paddle.' Though I don't see how this applies here."
"Not much for water, myself," Gideon admits with a wry smile, shaking some rainwater off of one gloved hand. "It's a good sign that they made it this far. The problem we find ourselves faced with, is do we camp here and risk running afoul of more of the local fauna, not to mention any lingering ratfolk... or do we push on and risk traveling the mountain at night?" Gideon's eyes narrow as he considers the path ahead of them, the rapidly ascending hills that approach the heights of the Aspodell are not far from them at all now. "We'd be into the mountains proper in under an hour, and we have likely that much daylight left with this cloud cover..."
Making a discomforted noise in the back of his throat, Gideon looks back and forth between Biatz and Karrn. "You two are the experts, I hired you for this exact reason. I defer to your expertise in this matter, these mountains are just as adversarial as our foes back in the forest... I'll not underestimate them by ignoring good counsel."
Karrn looks over the wagons and men again, considering. "I think caves are better. More shelter, hope less bears." He rubbed at the scar on his face, remembering the bear that'd given it to him. "Go maybe little slower? Be careful, and give time to rest tomorrow. If storming is still here with sun, will be nasty on trail. Groundslides. Men not happy for moving at night, but think will like safer sleep."
"Easy to guard cave."
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The sky is nothing more than a quilt of slate gray overhead, cold wind whips through the trees and the world seems to have faded away somewhere between Piren's Bluff and here. Nature in its silent serenity feels something like being alone, even though there's nearly two dozen people on this expedition, it's easy to feel the isolation out here in the rugged foothills of cold mountains. Gideon seems to be enjoying a moment outside of his wagon, staring up at the sky, resting his weight more on his cane than on his bad leg. At the door to his wagon, Gabriel waits in silence, his hood drawn up and hands folded within the sleeves of his robe.
"We might spend a while searching for a cave that can accommodate everyone," Gideon suggests to Karrn, loking down from the sky to both he and the other beast-man, Biatz. "My recommendation is pushing on into the night, but if you think these hills are safe," he gives an incline of his head to the mossy rocks and pine-tree strewn hills beyond. "I'm willing to concede the point. A night's rest might do us all well." He looks back to the caravan, then to Biatz and Karrn, breathing in deeply and drumming his fingers on the head of his cane.
"Well," Gideon looks between the two, expectantly, "what will it be?"
<< | | | | >>
Karrn glances around, almost... nervously? No, it couldn't be. "Caves safe, easy warm and dry with fire. Big cloth-roof not dry if rain is wind too."
Biatz looks up the mountain, then to the hills. He rests his hand on his hat, almost contemplatively, though really he is trying to hold his hat on his head. Deep thoughts always makes his left ear twitch. He never even knew it until he started wearing his hat. If he didn't like his hat so much, he would have left it behind long ago, but it's in rain like this that he is glad he has it.
"We have no idea what is up that mountain. It may be worse than bears. Yet with the way the animals have been acting, I can't expect them to keep their distance. I never understood the point of gambling, but I believe this is one of those situations where one is forced into it. I concede to my fellow ranger. Let us press up into the mountain."
Breathing in deeply, Gideon exhales slowly and offers a firm nod. "Very well," he agrees, lifting his cane as he turns to head back towards his wagon. "Break is over! Back to the trail!" At that proclamation, the guards and workers who had been relaxing off of the wagons and among the scrub grass dust themselves off and move back to their positions, whether it be walking alongside the wagons or riding atop them. For the duration of their conversation, Aribessa had been largely quiet, though as the wagon team prepares to get moving, she leaps down from the rear supply wagon and moves to start walking up the length of the wagons, passing by Gideon as he goes to rejoin Gabriel.
"Karrn, Biatz," Aribessa states flatly in an attempt to get their attention. "We're going ahead?" One brow raised, the 'construct specialist' seems concerned, or at the least curious. As she hustles to make it over to where they were talking to Gideon, a small bird flits past the caravan from up in the mountains, then disappears between the wagons as they start moving. "We-- I mean, how many more hours are there until dusk? Do you think we'll make it to a better campsite in time?"
The order already given, drivers spur their horses into movement and the wagons start to press ahead. Aribessa, though, seems to have a case of anxiety about the approach. Given her largely scholarly appearance and attire, this may be her first time in mountains such as these after dark.
Karrn relaxes somewhat as the caravan resumes travelling. "Will need to move at night some, but caves not hard to find if know where to look. Safer than bears. Much safer." He scratches at his scar, then sneezes as rain somehow finds its way up his nose.
"It is true," Biatz picks up where Karrn left's off, "that it's not safe to move ahead. It's not safe to stay here either. If we can find the cave, that gives us our best chance for the night whereas here, I guarentee it won't be a nice night. Unless you like bears in your tent." Though his last statement was somewhat jokingly, he is curious as to Aribessa's response. He ran into some strange people in Westcrown that would like bears in their tent just to much.
Kasimra, in an uncommon moment of empathy, grimaces as the caravan jolts into motion, jostling her patient. Though stable, the teamster is still not in great shape. His wounds will take time to heal without magical assistance, and Kas doesn't dare empty another charge of her healing wand into him. She has a supsicion it'll be needed plenty in the days to come, so one casting will have to do.
After making sure the crewman's bandages did not come lose, Kas heads to the front of the wagon and sticks her head out to watch their steady progress, with a complete lack of regard for the rainfall.
Furrowing her brows and scrubbing one hand at the base of her neck, Aribessa looks up to the higher peaks of the mountains, then concedes the point with a slight nod. "I... suppose you are the experts in this field," sounds like a reluctant agreement at best. As she starts to trail back, Aribessa hesitates on faltering behind entirely. Tilting her chin up, she looks over to the alchemy wagon, then back to Karrn and Biatz. "Do... you mind if I ask you both a question?" For a moment, Aribessa seems anxious again, as if unsure of how prodding the scouts for information would be received.
Karrn briefly shifts to walking upright, just long enough to shrug, before resuming his standard prowl. "If question could bother me, would be dead from little brother many seasons in past." In truth, he seems to appreciate her questions somehow. Perhaps it's from seeing them as a sign of a kindred, curious spirit, or maybe just from the simple fact that she sought him out to talk with him. That was much better than being pointed and screamed at.
Biatz respondes "It is no problem. My animal features do not mean I am uncivilized. I am here to serve your lady ship." He doffs his hat in a slight bow to her, exposing his cat-like features again.
"It sounds like no matter which way we choose, the stars will be clouded from view," Lyniza remarks, borrowing a phrase she had learned from her mother as she peers out from the back of the wagon. She has been busying herself ever since her earlier discovery, alternating between bouts of ontense curiosity, and trying her hardest not to think about the means of the creature's creation and the implications behind it's very existance. "I figure if that's the case, though, we might as well keep moving. Fate doesn't sit around and wait for us, you know." The sound of cards being shuffled in her hands is audible, even though they remain hidden from view.
Aribessa offers a look over her shoulder to the window of the alchemy wagon, where Lyniza leans out conversationally. Grimacing at her own awkwardness, Aribessa clears her throat and folds her hands behind her back, walking in step with the scouts. "Have the two of you done much mercenary work in the past?" The dark-haired woman's eyes flick back and forth between the two scouts. "I mean-- like this or otherwise? I figure it's good to know who it is that's watching the road ahead. I saw you both in battle back there..." she nods vaguely to the forest far behind them. "That was... trained skill."
Karrn shakes his head. "Learned from family. Swords and bows make home safer. Never paid to fight. Is strange idea. Can imagine rabbit paying wolf to fight cougar." He grins a bit at the image. "Fight to eat, fight to live, fight to stay strong. Is Walker's way."
Biatz nods at her question, understanding that trust between the war party was paramount. Though this hardly compared to an orcish war party. There was a lot less blood. "I was part of the City Guard back in Westcrown. However, most of my skills I learned from the animals I watched over for the Orcs. They were nasty brutes. The animals were more civilized than them. What I learned from the City Guard amounts to the short sword at my waist which I use to saw wood. Nature is the best teacher of all, for she has had many years teaching animals how to fend for themselves." He stares at the claws upon his hand, his ear twitching, then he snaps out of it, and settles his hat back on his head.
"Westcrown," comes as a reflexive word of wonder from Aribessa, "I've-- that must be how Lord Hightower scouted you. He probably had his eye on you for quite some time. I hear his family used to be quite prominent in that old city." Then, letting her head loll to the side she chews on her bottom lip for a moment before adding, "I never spent much time there, myself." Shifting her focus to Karrn, Aribessa's expression becomes more relaxes and less tense than before.
"I'm not much fond of people who accept gold to kill," she notes, glancing to Gideon's bodyguards, "but I understand the necessity. It's a relief to know you both don't have too bloodied a history. The other expedition head, Ieshua Hollows, sounded like a notorious figure from the stories I heard drifting around the Bluff before we left." Mulling over that, Aribessa considers the wagon, then looks back to the pair. "What do you think of our employer?"
Biatz ponders for a bit before replying. "He seems... a decent man. I'm not sure what his intentions are over all, but he seems to care for the well being of the members of this caravan. That's more than most noble's I've met." He spits upon the ground, a very disgusting gesture he learned from the orcs, comprising 50 mucus. "More then that, I think only time will tell, as the Chelish people say."
"Blood in history? Past-things are not holding blood, are made of thinking." Karrn says cheerfully, totally missing her point. "Lots of blood in teeth and fur. I kill for living." He pauses, realizing that his phrasing was too ambiguous. Curse Common! "Kill to eat. Best way to get stag is bite to throat. Very quick but very messy. Tastes good though. No wait before eating." His tail wags.
"Employer? I think he is like city-people. Alpha in city, wants something, gathers pack to take. Is smart, though. Knows he is not home. Asks questions. Only stupid people not ask questions."
As the conversation goes on, the caravan ascends a roughshod path through the hills, ambling over uneven terrain before finally leveling off on what looks like an ancient road. Wide, clear, and while not perfectly flat due to exposed rocks and roots on the trail, it is largely more suitable for wagon travel. Without much effort, Biatz and Karrn can see other wagon ruts here, showing that the vanguard must have made it this far and gone in this same direction. Up ahead, they can see this road winds up into the mountains, snaking switchback up a cliffside to gain elevation. EVery other direction looks trackless, dense underbrush and rugged hills interspersed by mossy boulders and deadfall trees.
"I heard some of the men back in the Bluff say that Lord Hightower spent nearly his entire family's fortune on this mission." Her pale eyes flick to Gideon's wagon for a moment, then to the ground ahead of her. "I can't imagine many things so important that I'd give up everything I'd worked for my entire life -- or I suppose in his case inherited -- just to have it." Rubbing a hand across her cheek to brush off a leaf that had been tangled in her hair, Aribessa changes conversational gears. "Between the way the animals have been acting, and the... creatures, back in the woods... what do you think we'll find up there." With that, Aribessa motions with her chin towards the switchback trail and the looming mountains.
Karrn says, "Do not know!" Karrn is altogether too chipper. "Is one reason I took job. Stonefangs have not-many stories about deep mountains. Some come from Walker. Want to see what Walker saw.""
Biatz looks up at the mountain, filtered by the light downpour of rain. "Hopefully we will find answers. If not, most likely death. Though I have no plans to die right now, there is always a circle of life that is beyond our control."
"Aberrations," Kas chimes in, joining in the intra-wagon conversation. "Or something else equally unpleasant. It's been unfortunately vague." She directs a brief, scornful glance at her ring. "In any event, I don't suppose we'll find out until we get there. That, or when we start finding bodies." She pauses for a moment, wiping the rain off her face. "I'm sorry. That's not too morbid, is it?"
"I mean, if the vanguard's shredded apart, their limbs ripped off, or their heads are exploded, or..." Kas trails off. "Or what have you. We can probably figure it out what we're facing from there."
The cards stop moving in Lyniza's hands as she turns to look over as Kasimira, an eyebrow quirked as she regards the women for a moment. "Too morbid, yes, but..." The alchemist grimaces, sliding her harrow deck back into a neat stack. "I suppose not unrealistic after what we just encountered." A pause, and then she laughs, shaking her head a bit. "Granted, now I'm more convinced than ever anything's possible! I mean... I never wuold've expected to see anything like this in my life."
She smiles, lifting the deck up in her hand and waving at the others. "I think I am going to... tend to something for a bit. If anyone needs me, please, knock on the side of the wagon. But it is probably best if I am not disturbed." Immediately, she retreats back into the alchemy wagon, taking a seat with her deck placed in front of her - she's been putting off that harrowing for too long now, and it's getting clearer and clearer to her that something is amiss.
Glancing back at Kasmira, Aribessa tenses for a moment and looks as though she were going to say something, then reconsiders it. Clearing her throat, the dark-haired woman shakes her head and starts to fall back out of pace with the others. Her expression is visibly torn as she lags behind the others, looking over to a tiny bird perched on the corner of the alchemy wagon, its beak nosing into the pinions of its tiny wings.
"I'd really rather not..."
* * * * *
Over the next half hour, the caravan makes its journey over the ancient mountain road and through the foothills of the Aspodell. Before dusk, the group has made it into the mountains, following the serpentine trail up a steep cliffside. The ruts carved by the vanguard a constant reminder that they're still out there, even if they've gone silent. While Karrn and Biatz are left to watch the road ahead in a physical sense, Lyniza has settled in to look at the road ahead in a more metaphysical way. Within the confines of the alchemy wagon, sharing the space with an injured teamster on a hammock and a relaxing Kasimira, the alchemist has full reign of the sole desk workspace. Under the flickering glow of an oil lamp, she shuffles through a series of old, dog-eared cards. In her youth, a Tian woman visiting Magnimar showed her a Harrowing -- a Varisian fortune telling tradition -- and told Lyniza a phrase that stuck with her much of her life.
"The Harrow is the path to the Answer."
As Lyniza begins to flip cards out of the deck, she's hoping to find just that answer. The cards are arranged in a grid, three by three, the first column represnting the past, the second the present, and the last the future. Likewise do the rows have meanings, the first row of cards represents the good of the reading, the second a more neutral stance, while the bottom cards show impending danger or doom. The question, of course, is the most important part. Lynizia's worry over the journey and whether or not the group should have camped rests too heavily on her mind to not be asked. The intricacies of a reading could take a long time to explain to someone uninitiated in their mystery, thankfully Lynizia does not bother to explain to the others sharing the wagon space with her.
As rain begins to hammer down outside, a torrential downpour that darkens the already dimming skies, Lynizia turns over the first card.
Positive Past, The Hidden Truth
This card depicts a wizened old sage leaning over a book,
eyes wide in astonishment, one finger in the air with a
tongue of flame jetting off of his finger; the illumination
of enlightenment. In this position, the Hidden Truth is
aligned properly and reveals its positive outlook. It
implies a secret, ancient and long forgotten, lies in wait
to be discovered. This secret is not one of destruction or
doom, but is one that benefits all who find it. Buried,
though, in the past, it will take an inquisitive mind to
unearth.
Outside of the alchemy wagon, one of the guards looks down over the cliff edge, whistling softly as he shakes his head, inspecting the drop. The wagon trails ahead, though, imply that the vanguard did not meet their end tumbling down the jagged slope of the ravine. That the riddle of their fate remains unsolved, howerver, puts a look of disquiet on the guard's face.
Neutral Past, The Cyclone
Turned over, this card depicts a vicious tornado
tearing apart the land. Fire erupts where it
touches down, skies are darkened and the storm
itself seems to have a face within its shifting
winds, a burning radiance erupting from within
smoke and clouds. In this alignment, the storm is
one of old, a disaster that befell a person or a
group in ages past that did not come from the
natural course, but from the plots of intelligent
beings. The Cyclone signifies war, strife, and
destruction on a mass scale; plans that destroy
everything they touch.
"Don't look so worried," one guard says to the other, laughing. "The beast-men will spook you if you listen to them, or maybe the dead rats. Don't let it bother you," the guard waves a dismissive hand, "we'll be done with this soon and we'll have more money than we could ever spend in our entire lives." A sly grin crosses his face. "Lord Hightower is going to see that we're well taken care of."
Evil Past, The Survivor
As this card is turned over, the image of a wounded
man in bandages sitting upon a throne is revealed.
He is surrounded by spirits, some tending to him,
others lost. A shield is propped up against his side,
sword at his feet, he is tired from fighting and has
settled down to stay the course and assess the damage.
Normally a card of good tidings, misaligned in this
position the card implies a survivor of a great calamity,
one who brings tidings of ill portent, a survivor of a
calamity depicted by the Cyclone above it, a catastrophe
that killed and destroyed, that purged and razed. The
survivor does not bring good news, he is not a herald of
a brighter future. He is a herald of the end.
"Are you sure?" The other guards questions, somewhat rhetorically as he looks down over the precipice edge. "Look, I ain't one to question Mister Hightower, but this is just all wrong. We ain't got nearly enough men t'dig out anything that's buried and not have it take months..." Looking back up from the edge, the guard eyes Gideon's carriage, wondering if he can hear him from within. "Maybe we shoulda' gone with the Vanguard..."
Good Present, The Idiot
While the card of the fool depicts a man bound at the wrists,
a foolish mask hiding his face and goblins tormenting him,
this typically negative card is misaligned to repsresent
something wholly different. The card typically depicts
foolhardiness and greed, being blinded by ambition to the
detriment of everything. But aligned such as it is, the card
implies someone who feigns idiocy or ineptitude that masks
their true strength. A false fool, a deceiver, and not
necessarily a wolf in sheep's clothing, but someone who has
something to hide. Someone who, the cards imply, is among them
now.
"Oh don't go givin' me none of that," is the other guard's response. "They're probably bear food. That old Marshal isn't going t'be any help t'anyone. Did you see hwo white his moustache was?" The guard motions fingers at his upper lip to pantomime Ieshua's walrus-like moustache. "Old men ain't survivors in conditions like this."
Neutral Present, The Sickness
A blind woman covered in sores holds leeks in one hand and a
ruby in the other, unable to distinguish the two. Sores on her
skin imply her disease, and the card's boldface text identifies
its name clearly to match. Here it represents a disease, one that
can bode neither good nor ill, it simply is. A disease of the
body and of the flesh that acts as it wants, not out of malice or
desire, but out of simple purpose. Lynizia cannot help but see the
scabbed sores on that woman in the card, and not think of the ratfolk
with their metallic lesions.
Laughing, the guards shrug off some of their concern. One pauses for a moment, letting the wagons roll past as he looks up to a higher cliff face. Lifting his hand to shield his eyes from the rain, he squints. "What d'you see?" His partner asks, rubbing a hand at his own bandaged neck wound. "Please don't be bears..." The other guard doesn't respond, just keeps staring up like he saw something.
Evil Present, The Tyrant
A dragon stares back at Lyniza, its scales dark and the world clutches
in its talons, seeping blood. This mighty serpent represents a domineering
force, a figure of power and prestige that rules and destroys. A monarch,
a politician, someone of influence and power is depicted by this card and
their nature is one of domineering subjucation. Whoever the figure is, he
deals harm to whomever he holds sway over, whether he knows it or not.
"Shut up!" He hisses, waving his hand at his more talkative partner. A moment later there's another noise, something low and distant, like a peal of thunder. Karrn and Biatz hear it too, an unsubtle sound that rumbles over the mountains. A few loose stones tumble down from the cliffs, and the guard looks momentarily puzzled.
Good Future, The Paladin
Strength in the face of adversity. Without even knowing the card's meaning
Lynizia could infer that from the gold-armored figure depicted therein. A
bright red plume atop his helm, sword pointed down at the ground, defiant
and ready to face all whom oppose him. Here, in the group's future, it
bodes remarkably well as a representation of resistance against all odds, a
sign that even when things seem their darkest, there is strength and means
to carry on.
Waving off Biatz and Karrn, the guard approaches the cliff, then looks up again as a few more stones fall from above, but the rumbling noise passes. Twitching his ear to shake rainwater off, Biatz looks to Karrn, then up to the same spot the other guard is viewing. None of them seem to realize what is about to happen, there's no telltale signs to interpret, nothing to understand. Nature holds little sway in these mountains. At least, not a nature anyone here is familiar with.
Neutral Future, The Keep
A fortress upon mechanical legs strides through a landscape above all danger
and harm, smoke belching up from within. A fantastical card and one that
represents, often, a physical keep or fortress. Being of neutral alignment,
the card shows that the keep is neither good or ill, or perhaps carries some
of both in equal measure.
"Oh Gods," the guard murmurs as he sees the first dark shadow come tumbling down through the clouds. "Scatter! Move! Go!" At first it comes with a crash, a piece of stone the size of a horse colliding with the road. Then the rumble, again, but this time more fearsome and sudden than before. Screams erupt from all around as the mountain begins to shake and quake, the ground buckling, land splitting and cliffside trail cracking wide open.
Evil Future, The Avalanche
As Lynizia turns over the last card, she can see the key emblem in the corner.
This card bears the sigil of the question she asked, a question about trouble
and dangers ahead. Aligned properly, this card depicts people swept off of
their feet and carried down a mountainside. Often times, the Harrow deck is not
literal, but has implied meanings...
The screams build as the rumble intensifies, accompanied by a high-pitched whining noise that reverberates through the mountain, a squealing echo of something otherworldly. The path gives way, cracking and crumbling beneath the weight of the lead wagon, sending it pitching over the side with Gideon and Gabriel along with it. The horses let out terrified sounds, Gideon's driver is thrown from the wagon over the cliff edge, and the entire carriage bounces and crashes down the hillside in a flurry of stone and wood debris, disappearing into fog below.
Now, the Harrow is simply stating fact.
The sound of the earthquake is deafening.
The ground buckles and trembles as if it were alive, stone splits, rock collapses and the mountain itself seems to rise up to protest the Expedition's approach. As the cliffside trail crumbles underfoot, Gideon's wagon tips over and tumbles off of the cliffside, taking its shrieking horses, Gideon and Gabriel along with it while throwing his driver to what is likely his death.
The sound of the teamsters and bodyguards screaming fills the air, their fear rising up along with the sound of thunderous stone collapsing and something unnatural -- a trilling noise, shrill like screeching metal -- ringing over the mountainside. The supply wagon slouches along the collapsing trail, sliding downward but not fully sliding off the trail as its driver feverishly snaps at the reins and tries to get the horses to drag it up off of the sagging portion of the road and away from the cliff edge.
At the head of the caravan where the road falls away, Biatz finds his footing unsure and the growing divide between solid ground and thin air widening too fast. He starts to slip, smashes down on one knee and begins falling backwards with a huge portion of the cliffside, only to feel the furred hand of Karrn snatch out to grab the fellow ranger by the wrist, leaving him dangling over the cliff edge. Karrn's claws dig into the rain-soaked earth as he can feel the rock beginning to crack below himself.
One of Gideon's bodyguards gets in the way of the wagon's back end as it fish-tails back and forth and is struck dead on, flung bodily off of the cliff, his scream echoing on the long fall. Two of the teamsters trying to calm the horses find themselves trampled as the steeds rear up and strike out with their hooves. Both men trip, stumble and fall into the ravine, disappearing into the thick fog.
The alchemy wagon scrapes horizontally against its iron-shod wheels. "No! No! No!" The driver screams as he tries to keep it from careening off the cliff like Gideon's. As he gets the horses to turn about face and back down the trail, he is struck in the head by falling debris from the higher cliffs and is knocked from the top of the wagon, his soundless body falling to his doom over the edge.
From inside of the alchemy wagon, Kasimira and Aribessa can just barely make out the sight of Gideon's wagon going over the edge of the cliff ahead of them. Aribessa is the only one in the wagon who manages to not be thrown to the floor when everything begins shaking.
The quake shows no sign of stopping as the mountain shakes and shudders, birds scattering into the rainy skies.
It stirs.
<< | | | | >>
"GIDEON!" Kasimira cries out as the lead wagon tumbles down the mountain, before being knocked on her back as the alchemy wagon shifts. Whatever was stirring, she was not prepared for it, and the only person who might have been, had just fallen to his likely doom. With no small effort, she stumbles to her feet, the wagon shifting and vibrating beneath her, vials and flasks tumbling around her.
After making it to her feet, she pauses for a second, mentally calculating whether the weighted probability of perishing when the wagon falls is more lethal than the probability of being nailed by a falling rock. Yes, Kas decides, yes it is. "We need to abandon wagon," she informs the other two as she helps Lyniza to her feet. "Now!"
Lyniza looks back into the wagon, wide-eyed. “But-- all of our supplies!” Then, looking behind Kasimira she sees a further liability. Laying on the cot inside of the wagon is one of the caravan teamsters that is receiving long-term care from the injuries he sustained in the previous altercation with the ratfolk. Making a soft sound in the back of her throat, Lyniza starts to move towards him, but finds Aribessa interjecting herself.
“Go, I’ll get him.” Turning her back on Lynizia, Aribessa strides to the back of the wagon and hoists the injured man up with an arm around her shoulders and a yowl of pain as his injuries are strained by the movement. The whole wagon lurches and shakes as it slides along the sloped cliff. Turning to look back at Kasimira and Lynizia, Aribessa seems overcome with fear for the barest of moments.
Seeing the injured teamster raised up, Lynizia scrambles to gather up her harrow cards and her backpack before bounding out of the wagon. She practically falls out of the back, hitting the ground and rolling through the mud before coming up on one knee. From here, Lyn can see the wagon’s wheels scraping through the sodden ground and upturning loose stones as it slouches closer and closer to the edge.
Karrn scrabbles for a better foothold, digging his claws into the suddenly-too-loose ground. He'd felt an earthquake once before, and hated it just as much then. The ground shouldn't move. He keeps his grip iron-strong on Biatz's hand, gritting his teeth as he strains to keep the other ranger from plummeting over the edge.
"Stay calm. Fear will kill if not used. Look for foothold." Karrn grunts, finding purchase for his other paw. "Now!" He tenses and pulls as hard as he can, trying to swing Biatz back up onto the ledge. As his fellow guide slides back to relative safety, Karrn lets his momentum carry him back, stepping towards a stable-looking outcropping as close to an overhang and as far away from the edge as he could get.
Biatz had felt fear before, but nothing had torn a scream from his throat like this had. Slipping from the Cliffside, all rational thought left his head, and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to die. Yet as Karrn’s paw grasped his flailing hand, he felt hope resurge into him, and the natural instinct of survival kick back in. At Karrn’s encouragement, he scrambles up the Cliffside with the tug on his arm, and he makes it back to safety. Thanks though will have to be given later, as Karrn moves off to safety. Biatz tries to take a step, but finds the fear left him shaking, and he loses his footing. He falls down to the ground, and crawls a slight ways away from the Cliffside, and holds onto the ground for dear life.
Struggling to stay standing, the sole remaining teamster on foot that survived the initial moments of the cliff’s collapse rush to the same location Karrn has, an area of the trail wall where there is a slight overhang to shield from falling rocks. On his way in, a piece of the mountain comes tumbling down, striking him on the brow and sending him crumpling to his knees, blood sprayed down his forehead. He scrambles, crawls and slogs through the mud to press up against the wall beside Karrn, absolute terror painted on his blood-streaked face.
The three remaining bodyguards, trying to protect themselves with their shields, make the same rush to the overhang. One of them makes it through unscatched, deflecting falling debris with his shield, while the others are pummeled by rocks and falling gravel from above, battered and bruised but okay as they make it safely to shelter. “F@!*’s sake, the whole mountain’s gonna come down!” One of the guards hollars, watching the driver of the supply cart struggle to keep it on the road.
“Who the f&*$’s driving the alchemy-- “ another bodyguard is about to ask, before spotting Lynizia having bailed out of it. “S@@%.”
Kas slings her pack over her right shoulder in a single fluid motion, and wedges her spear between pack and back. Seeing that Aribessa is taking care of the teamster, she swipes an armful of supplies, paying little attention to the particulars of what she grabs. She leaps out the wagon and crouches low to the ground, pausing to make sure that the stragglers make it out, before she makes a run for the relative safety of the cliffside - and directly towards the tumbling rocks.
Struggling out of the wagon, Aribessa hauls the injured teamster with her. As she emerges, there’s a blur of motion as a small bird whips past her and the wagon, disappearing into the rain and fog over the edge of the cliff. She flinches at the bird’s close proximity, then steps down onto the shaking ground. “We have to get the hell out of here!” Her scream carries only just over the noise of the quake and splitting rocks. Hustling towards the cliff where the others are huddled, Aribessa does her best to try and avoid the falling rocks where they slam into the ground.
A small piece of debris hits Aribessa in the shoulder, spinning her around, and as she staggers she spots a larger piece of rock sliding down the mountainside. Before she can pull away, it smashes into the face of the man she was carrying, sending him collapsing from her arms and down to the ground unmoving. Aribessa lets out a sharp cry, then drops to one knee and tries to lift his weight on her own.
Karrn looks around after hitting the ground with the latest tremor, trying to make some sense of the situation, and sees the alchemy wagon heading for the cliff. He knows absolutely nothing about alchemy, but he does know that the wagon is shelter and supplies, and the city-people need those things brought with them when they go into the wilds. He climbs to his feet.
Pausing only for a moment, waiting for the slightest easing of the falling rocks from above, Karrn makes a loping dash for the alchemy wagon. He takes a hard hit from a falling chunk of rubble, but keeps going.
People confuse him often. Animals, though... animals he understands.
As rocks crash around him, Biatz starts to slowly crawl his way to where the others are taking shelter. A tear runs down his furry cheek as his hat is swept away in the maelstrom. Why must I be so weak? People need my help, and I can barely even save myself. I thought I was strong. I guess I was wrong. Dragging himself through dirt and mud, Biatz has never felt more worthless, even amongst the orcs that hated him. Maybe not all was lost though, because he was able to make it to the safety of the overhang unscathed except for the loss of his hat.
Hesitation grips Lyniza, holding her feet chained to the ground as the world almost literally crumbles around. She looks back and forth between where the others have found shelter and those still trying to make it from the wagons. It’s with a muttered curse that she turns on her heels and, weaving her way through falling rocks, makes her way back to Aribessa. “I’m going to die,” she muses out loud, a mix of fear and what could almost pass as curiosity in her voice.
When she reaches where Aribessa and the teamster she had been helping wait, almost tripping as she slides down to her knees. “Come on. Up and up, before this decision gets all three of us killed!” she remarks as she takes hold of the teamster, attempting to help Aribessa hoist him up even despite her now injured shoulder. “I always expected it to be something falling from the sky to kill me. Not things falling up from the earth...”
As quickly as she can, she ushers the two along and towards safety - and hopefully out of the deadly stone rain that has taken to falling all around them. Secretly, she hopes that her alchemy bag was as full stocked as she could get it before the wagon got all turned up and around, but that’s not something she’s letting anyone else know. Not yet, at least.
Holding on with reasonable urgency, the teamster and bodyguards under the overhang cling to the rock wall with all their strength. “Gideon’s gone! F%*# this! F!@$ this right away!” Profanity courses out of one of the guard’s mouths. “I’m not dying for this f!!~ing mission! F*@# Gideon! F&%! the mission! F$&! this stupid mountain!” It’s all he can do not to simply break out into a sprint now, but the collapsing mountainside and threat of the cliff crumbling out from under him keeps him in place.
<< | | | | >>
The earthquake caused the entire valley to shudder, sending loose rocks and debris cascading down into the ravine that has been home for far, far too long. The sound of screams and splintering wood, however, were not among the sounds that Okrin Ashweaver had expected to hear as darkness came to the mountains again.
It wasn't far away now, where he heard the rumble of a landslide. The ground is still shaking, writhing and buckling underfoot, making his walk along the rocky valley treacherous. But nearby in the mist he can see the first sign of those screams. A battered body lies mostly buried by rubble, a single bloodied arm sticking up from within a pile of stone and earth. Not far from this, the twisted carcass of a horse impaled by a length of wood is visible only in the rear half where it lays in a deep pool of bloodied mud.
Not far from the horse, there's smashed wood and a broken wagon wheel. Armored plating is twisted and bent among the rocky debris, one wheel still spinning slowly where it lies mostly buried by rocks. A corpse a few hundred feet away is smashed on the ground, twisted at an angle that is not condusive to life.
Okrin recognizes him.
Pashvater Mivun, a Vudruni man he'd met in Piren's Bluff, one of the hired hands that was staying behind when he first set out on this ill-gotten journey. Now he is a twisted mess of flesh and bones in bloodied winter clothing, his eyes staring vacantly up at a rainy sky.
Okrin recognizes the wagon belatedly when he spots the sigil of a tower in clouds on one of the twisted armored plates. The wagon belonged to his benefactor and the man that gathered him for this assignment.
That was Gideon Hightower's wagon.
This isn't how he imagined finding the other team.
Ah.. crap.. well this is turning out well. Here I was, hoping they'd find me. Looks like they did.. just not the way I was hoping. I better haul ass and see if I can find any survivors. I hope Gideon wasn't in there..
Okrin, having felt the earthquake, was not going to be caught off guard this time. Although there were no cliffs for him to fall down this time, he had his grappling hook out in case the earth decided to split underneath him - with his luck, he half expected it. Now, however, he moves slowly but steadily over to the wreckage while keeping one eye above him, in case anything - or anyone - decides to come falling on top of him.
Reaching the wagon, Okrin sees a few bodies that are half buried and crushed to a pulp from debris. The wagon itself isn't entirely destroyed, likely due to its armor plating. Seeing that the wagon looks to have gotten filled with soil and dirt, Okrin gets over to it, swears in annoyance that he didn't bring a shovel, and begins to dig out any surviving occupants, using his shield as a makeshift shovel, all while praying that none of the falling debris hits him. I have a bad feeling about this..
<< | | | | >>
Glimpsing the boulder striking her comrades, Kas reflexively turns their way, but a whisper invades her mind: "No. Survive." She delays, torn between her patron-reinforced survival instincts and her desire to keep a companion alive. A sudden tremor catches her as she hesitates, sending her sprawling into the mud, and a hefty chunk of rock rushes past where her head would have been had she remained standing. "Fool," the whisper castigates, and abruptly she feels the presence depart. She fights her way to her feet and, with Lynzia coming to the aid of Aribessa and the teamster, elects to complete her dash to the cliff. Fortunately, she manages to avoid any further passing boulders, and she takes shelter beneath the overhang.
Huddled up against the cliff under the overhang, Aribessa tries to hold up the limp form of the injured teamster, watching the blood pour out of the terrible wound to his face and his smashed nose. She tries to wipe some of the blood away, her hands soaked in it. Looking over to Lyniza, Aribessa shakes her hear, panick-stricken. “He-- he’s not breathing.”
Karrn's paws slide from under him as he reaches the wagon, sending him tumbling to the ground once more even as he throws his arms out. "Halithak!" It takes half a second before he realizes that maybe he should try commands in something other than Gnoll. "Stop! Halt! Whoa! End!" He spouts off synonyms, hoping that one of them is the proper word the horses were trained with.
It pays off. The horses whinny, then slow, drawing the wagon to a halt as Karrn climbs back to his feet.
Biatz curls up in a ball under the overhang, but upon realizing he is safe from harm here, he relaxes just a tad. He pokes his head up, trying to make sense of what is going on around him through the debris and the rain. His eyes go wide at the scene laid out before him, so caught up in his own fear that he didn’t realize the predicament the others were in. He mentally berates himself again, but is unable to muster the courage to go out there and save people. The feeling of helplessness weighs down his heart, and he swears to himself he will never let this happen again.
Lyniza is already plopping down on her knees when Aribessa addresses her, rooting around in what’s left of her bag after the numerous healing attempts she’s had to make since the trip had begun - too many now that she thought about it. In a weird way, she was pretty sure her teacher would be proud, but this wasn’t quite the situation she had anticipated. Certainly not rockfalls!
Clearing her mind, Lyniza nods, pullling materials out of the bag as she examines the teamster with the other, eyes narrowed as she focuses on her tasks. “He’s alive,” she remarks hurriedly, eyeing his head. “For the moment. Not much longer at this rate.” Bandages, herbs, and coagulants are pulled out of her bag, her attention turning to his head. “I just bandaged you up. You really are becoming a strain on my resources,” she remarks with a bit of an amused grin, even though she knows the teamster can’t hear her.
It takes a moment, but once his head has been patched, and seeming the bleeding stopped, she leans back and lets out a huff of air, the chaos around her temporarily forgotten through her narrow focus. Looking around at the others, she sighs, and glances back to Aribessa. “Do you need any patching up before I check on the others? I’m out of materials, but I can still work out what I need to.”
Whoa, finally caught up with this journal! Good stuff! I particularly like how the most recent event was foreshadowed by the harrowing deck.
So, are Gideon and Gabriel dead? I remember reading in your discussion thread that Gabriel's player left the group? Or has he returned meanwhile?
Looking forward to the next instalment!
RPG Superstar 2014 Top 4
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Thanks for keeping up with this, Monrail! The Harrow thing was a pretty fun occurance and was built entirely off of the player of Lyniza deciding to do a harrowing RIGHT before the scheduled earthquake. There's a lot of other foreshadowed things that have yet to come to pass, too. As for Gideon and Gabriel's fates... see the next two updates.
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RPG Superstar 2014 Top 4
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Kasimira clutches at the cliff face, briefly marvelling at the boulders that are soaring ever-so-closely overhead, right as another tremor catches her and the group. She loses her grip and falls on her back, but her pack cushions her from any actual harm. Rather than fight her way back to her feet, she rolls onto her stomach and rifles through her gear for the wand Gideon handed her a few short days ago. The gnoll would need it, at least if he made it to shelter.
Pressed up against the cliff wall near where Kasimira had fallen over, Aribessa releases her grip on the cave wall and makes a gesture in the air with one hand, as if hastily beckoning someone but trying -- and failing -- to keep the gesture concealed. A moment afterward, the sparrow that had been circling the caravan for much of the journey zips between the falling rocks and lands on Aribessa’s shoulder. With a hushed whisper, the dark-haired woman begins to utter some sort of litany before crossing two fingers and motioning in a circle. She then nods to Karrn atop the wagon, and the sparrow alights from her shoulder again.
Out of the rain, the sparrow flaps and flutters by Karrn’s side and then perches atop his head, pecking once before buffeting its wings and zipping away with a trilling chirp. An unusual sense of confidence flows through Karrn after the bird departs, giving him a sense of renewed capability on keeping the horses under control.
Karrn slowly approaches the horses, speaking soothingly in an attempt to keep them calm as the strange bird pecks him on the head. He grunts in annoyance, but as he feels strangely reinvigorated, he makes a mental note to look for that species later. Maybe it's something native to the mountains that tastes as good as he feels right now. Though the ground continues to shake, he keeps his footing, and despite every instinct in him screaming to get back to shelter, he forces himself to remain by the alchemy wagon. The not-eating-prey-for-the-mind needed as many supplies as they could keep, and at least for now they were almost-pack. Karrn wouldn't leave them to die. Besides, if he did, he'd never find out what they were looking for, or get to learn why city-people were always so keen on separating themselves from animals. The thought of never learning more about that scares him more than the rockslide. Besides, he'd taken a bear to the face and survived. Avalanches had nothing on angry bears.
Biatz is shaken out of his reverie as the earth shattering quake causes him to bounce and slide towards the cliffs edge. As fear grips his heart, he quickly scrambles back on all fours to the cliff face, jumps upright and pins himself to the wall. Disaster momentarily avoided, he starts to breathe again, his cat nose flaring from the deep breaths.
The funny look Lyniza gives Aribessa only lasts a moment before her head whips around, looking across the supposed safe area for any other immediate danger or horrific wounds. “You can ignore me all you like,” she notes to the other Alchemist, grinning as her gaze turns out to the edge of the cliff, “but someone’s going to have to give you a once over as soon as this- whatever it is stops.”
The grin fades as her gaze settles on Karrn, moving on her knees to the edge of the shelter with squinted, focused eyes. “Gods damnit... Karnn!” Hands form into a cup in front of her mouth as she shouts, trying to get the gnoll’s attention. “Your head! Get over here and let someone patch that up before you pass out!” And, most likely, tumble right over the edge of the cliff with everything else. Rising up to her feet, the alchemist grimaces, hand fiddling around in her bag as she considers going out after him herself. “Wonderful time not to have any of that meat left over,” she mumbles to herself, accentuating the comment with a sigh.
Screaming in terror while they cling to the cliff walls, the surviving teamsters and bodyguards cling to the cliff face. Some slip and fall as the rock face breaks away under their grasp, causing them to topple down to the ground under the overhang. "There's no amount'f gold worth this s*&*!" One of the bodyguards screams as he holds on for dear life, his discarded shield scuttling across the rocky slope of the broken road, disappearing over the edge of the cliff after a moment's time.
Gradually, the shaking seems to be stopping, and soon the screams of the teamsters and bodyguards is louder than the rumbling and unnatural shrieking from the mountain. The horses whinneys and neighs become more pronounced as they canter and stomp while Karrn maintains control of their reins.
Eventually, the mountain grows silent.
<< | | | | >>
The last few pieces of debris come tumbling down through the fog, crashing into the pile of broken stones and shattered wagon remnants around Okrin. Undeterred, the vanguard member pries away pieces of loose stone and timber, uncovering the first of the bodies that were trapped in Gideon's carriage. Blood is the first thing Okrin sees, a male figure soaked head to toe in blood, his head split open in a deep, fatal fissure. One of his arms is bent and broken in an unnatural angle, exposed bone protruding through the dark brown fabric of his robe.
Okrin doesn't recognize the blonde man's body, though he is dressed as a scholar, which fits with Gideon's plan to leave the scholars and researchers behind when the vanguard set out. Life has long since left this young, frail looking man, but buried beneath where his body was found, Okrin makes another discovery.
Gideon Hightower.
Having been saved from the brunt of the impact when the wagon collapsed by the scholar's body, Gideon lays battered, covered in blood and motionless. His legs are trapped beneath a heavy weight of wood and stone. Nearby to him, his walking cane glowers up at Okrin, the snarling wolf's head at the end watching him with steel eyes.
"No.. No! NO! This would've been for naught if you're dead, Gideon! You better not be dead!" Okrin, completely unable to tell if Gideon is dead or not, as he knows as much about the human - or any other creature's - anatomy as much as a goblin knows basic hygiene, continues yelling at Gideon's unconscious body as he prepares to change the magical energy of one of his spells into positive energy, in order to heal Gideon. "WAKE UP DAMNIT!" As he yells that, he touches Gideon with his gauntlet-covered hand, currently aglow with positive energy.
Were Gideon awake, he would have screamed. Instead, all Okrin has as a response is the sudden sizzling of Gideon’s flesh as his dark skin blisters and burns under the touch of positive energy. Smoke issues up from where the gauntlet laid down, flesh immediately blackens and bruises in addition to burning. The reaction was the inverse of what one may expect from exposure to healing energies.
This was going to be far more complicated.
<< | | | | >>
With the mountain having ceased all movement and noise, all has become unusually quiet. Aribessa takes a moment to lean away from the cliff face, swallowing audibly as she stares up the cliff with wide eyes. Her hands tremble, fingers twitch and as she reluctantly eases away from the wall, there’s a sense of impending danger that can’t be shaken. But nothing comes; no aftershocks, no further pieces of the mountain coming down, nothing.
Then, amid the silence they all hear, “Wake up damnit!” The voice echoes up from the fog-shrouded ravine.
The voice successfully distracts Lyniza away from Karrn and tempers any relief the apparent end of the rockslide may have brought her. “Who was that?” she inquires out loud, looking in it’s direction with surprised eyes.
Karrn pats the horses' necks before waving over a teamster. "Take horse-rope. Need to go look." He hands over the reins and approaches Lyniza, grimacing and wiping the blood from his eyes. "Heard voice under cliff. Hurt not bad but gets blood in eyes. Fix it? Want to see who is down in fog."
Slowly, cautiously, Kas clambers to her feet and edges towards Karrn, waiting for the tumbling boulders to return. She reaches the gnoll and taps the the wand to the wound on his forehead, which instantly closes. "The earth laughed, but we didn't get the joke," she mumbles. "I'm still waiting for the encore." Then she shouts, to the people around her and hopefully to any survivors who took a spill, "If you're not dead and in need of assistance, give me an 'Aye'!"
A round of very few "Ayes" follows Kas' question, and one teamster and a bodyguard to Gideon approach the witch, each with bloodied head injuries and other minor contusions from their sprint into cover when the landslide started. One of the bodyguards is just walking away, cursing as he starts to head back down the trail.
"F~~~ this!" He shouts, "F~#* this entire mission, f@%* Gideon, f%$$ the money!" He trails blood behind him as he walks, gripping one arm with a gloved hand.
“It was probably one of the teamsters telling himself to wake up.” Biatz blinks at his own comment, realizing it made no sense, but at the moment he didn’t care. He had no intention of going near that cliff edge, and was wishing every moment that they were fighting bears, he can deal with bears. He sits down on the muddy ground, letting himself calm down now that nature was calm again. He closes his eyes and shuts out his hearing, taking in the rain, and imagining himself back in the peaceful forest. That is all that is needed to calm him, and his eyes pop back open. He scratches at his cheek, trying to get the mud off, cleaning himself up for whatever it was worth, as he starts to meander about taking in the remnants of what had happened.
"Thank you," Karrn says to Kas with a smile that very deliberately keeps his teeth hidden. "Am going down, look for new-voice. Will shout from bottom." With that, he turns and approaches the cliff edge, dropping to all fours for extra stability as he begins clambering down the slope. It's simple enough, the rock face giving good handholds to his questing paws, and no worse than some of the places he'd climbed as a cub with his siblings. Of course, this time if he falls, it'll be more than a hard thump into gathered leaves.
“Hey. Hey!” Lyn shouts after Karrn as he suddenly starts down the slope. “Gods, this is why avoided some of the districts back home...” Shoulders slumping, she kneels down and looks down after the gnoll. “Is anyone hurt down there? I don’t wanna kill myself climbing down if I don’t need to!”
Biatz immediately wants to go after the bodyguard, but he really can’t blame him. He wanted to leave to. If he didn’t have a personal vested interest in this, he’d accompany him home. More importantly though, he feels he lacks credibility after his display during the earthquake. Instead he turns to other important matters, and goes to check the supply cart, and see what made it through.
The cart is in fair condition, largely undamaged from the quake and landslide. One of the teamsters accompanied Biatz over, looking warily at the guide as he walked. “Is-- is that it?” At first it seemed as though the teamster was speaking of the quake, but it becomes clear that isn’t the case. “Do we just... turn around now?” Looking back to the collapsed road, he doesn’t see any other course.
Kas mends the wounds of her travelling companions, shaking her head at the one's vulgarity. "You're going to stay with us, right?" she asks the complainer, as she gives his arm the wand-over and the trail of blood disappears. "I mean, I'm sure you'd make it far, but with the ratfolk and the earth itself and even bears trying to kill you, I think it'll end in tears. Also blood. I wouldn't do it. What do you think?" she finishes, almost innocently.
Kas doesn't wait for a response, instead stowing the wand in her pack and drifting over to the fortunately-saved alchemy wagon. She ducks inside and frowns at the mess, muttering a few words to herself as the air around her becomes uncannily still. One container at a time starts drifting back into its proper place as she returns the supplies she hastily grabbed, all the while directing commands to what seems like no one in particular. "No, the shelf to the left." "Same place as the last one." "Higher up."
"Uh.. thats not what it's supposed to do.. usually it MENDS wounds.. not.. makes their flesh sizzle. I didn't use my spell that causes flesh to sizzle!" Okrin, unable to heal his employer without harming him more, looks around at the wreckage for a moment, before hearing someone yell from above. "Huh? OH! Of course Gideon wouldn't be alone, he has the rest of the research team with him!" Okrin unattaches his face-plate so he can yell better, and then yells , "HEY UP THERE, I FOUND GIDEON! I CAN'T TELL IF HE'S ALIVE OR NOT, CAN YOU SEND SOMEONE DOWN HERE TO CHECK?" Afterwards, as he dislikes having his face-plate off, he reattaches it, and waits for a response.
“Oh, s%~$,” Lyniza whispers to herself when she hears Okrin shout back. “Hold on, I’l be- down in a moment, I guess?” She hadn’t considered the possibility of having to navigate cliff faces, otherwise she probably would’ve dressed a bit more appropriately for it.Taking a deep breath, she lowers herself down and begins to climb, making sure her bag is secure on her shoulder before beginning her decent. “Hey, guys! Sounds like someone found Gideon!” she shouts to the others, in case they hadn’t heard.
As Karrn descends through the fog, he can see shapes starting to come into view. First large, blocky masses, then more clearly through the rain as piles of broken rocks, a still-spinning wagon wheel attached to a broken axel. Bodies partly buried by rubble around the landslide’s base, along with Gideon’s demolished wagon and a body that Karrn recognizes: Gabriel’s.
Small rocks tumble down the slope near Okrin as something audibly climbs down, growling occasionally. Not much later, a hulking, armored gnoll with a crude greatsword strapped to his back clambers down on all fours, sniffing the air. Karrn looks around at the wreckage, then looks Okrin over. The glance has more than a bit of a predatory look to it, but strangely for a gnoll, seems more curious than threatening.
"Found Gideon? Where?" Karrn's Common is heavily accented, like a growl, but plainly understandable. "New-voice. Who are you?"
Karrn is actually a bit sad to see Gabriel’s corpse, but not terribly surprised. One doesn’t grow up in the wilds without growing acquainted with death, and the scholar had been sorely out of his element. Still, Karrn would miss Gabriel’s questions. He wondered how he would taste, though, with the strange body-magic he’d used.
Back up at the top of the cliff, the teamsters shakily go through the process of collecting the supplies that fell out of the cart at the rear of the caravan and assisting Kasimira with reorganizing the alchemy wagon. Not far away, the bodyguard who received Kas’ healing looks at his mended injury, and pauses in his departure for a good long while at that, contemplating the safety and wisdom in leaving alone in these wilds. Then, of course, Gideon’s name is spoken. Were Lord Hightower alive, the situation would be different. Instead, the bodyguard slowly approaches the wagons, waiting to see how everything pans out.
"முட்டாள்தனமாக ஓ, பரலோகத்தில் பெயரில் என்ன இருக்கிறது!?"Okrin speaks in a very odd language as he sees the gnoll land near him. It almost sounds as if bells were ringing, if that is possible. "Wait, you know of Gideon? You're with his group?" Okrin speaks in an unfamiliar accent, much different than what is common in Andoran or Cheliax. His voice is slightly muffled, as well. He, too, is heavily armored, his armor being of bronze-colored steel, and the rest of his clothing looking as if it is covered in ash. He, himself, is completely covered head to toe in something - none of his skin is showing. His face is concealed by a metal mask that covers his nose and mouth, with the rest of his face being covered by a thick leather hood and goggles. He looks out of place, thats for sure. In one hand, he carries a heavy steel shield, while his other hand is covered in a spiked gauntlet.
Gideon? Good. "Do what these two tell you," Kasimira instructs the force, then directs the teamsters, "Tell it where to put things, and it'll do it." She exits the wagon, still covered in mud and water but not caring, and heads towards the cliff as she draws the wand again. "Is he alive, or does Karrn have his meal?"
“Karrn doesn’t have a meal either way,” Lyniza shouts back up to Kas, a bit of a disgusted look on her face. “The poor man at least gets a proper burial if he’s dead. Have some decency about you.” Reaching the end of her climb, she hops down to solid ground, taking a deep breath as she looks over in the direction of Okrin, Karrn, and Gideon. “Is he alive?” she asks hesitantly as she approaches, beginning to root around in her bag.
"The proper celestial or fiendish authorities get his soul either way, form of burial notwithstanding!" Kas calls back down. The silliness of arguing up and down a cliff does not occur to her.
"Karrn. Stonefang tribe. Am guide for city-people in wagons." Karrn offers, padding closer to the wrecked wagon. As soon as he gets closer, he spots Gideon underneath Gabriel's body. Karrn knows next to nothing about medicine, but he can tell if someone's alive or not. Gideon is in terrible shape, but alive. Barely. But burned somehow. He turns his head to shout up the cliff.
"Gideon living! Hurt! Need hurt-close!" With that, he very slowly, very carefully lifts Gabriel off of Gideon, careful not to move or jolt the Chelish noble, and shifts the corpse to the ground a few feet away before noticing Lyniza. "Rock-hit. Also burn. Not know how."
Then, his ability to help Gideon at its end, he decides to indulge his curiosity.
He sniffs at Gabriel's exposed bone, intrigued by the strange tang in its scent that he'd never smelled in blood before. He laps at the blood once, testing, and then very delicately nibbles at the torn flesh of the scholar's arm.
"Does he have broken bones, can you move him?" Kas asks, before she thinks for a moment. "Never mind, he fell off a cliff. Of course he does. Don't move him." She edges over, very deliberately and delicately. There's not much call for climbing in academia, and she doesn't want to take any chances, although this face doesn't seem like too difficult a descent. After she descends a short way, one of the teamsters in the wagon takes a small jar to the head as the unseen force winks out of existence.
"Uh.. the burn may have been my fault.. I used a healing spell on him.. and it made his flesh sizzle, as if I used my spell that makes flesh sizzle. But didn't use that spell!" Okrin steps away from the gnoll as he approaches, just in case. He's not used to strange creatures who speak his language. "Uh..I'm Okrin.. Okrin Ashweaver.. part of the Vanguard." Okrin stands aside as Karrn examines Gideon. "Ah he's alive? Good.. good. I couldn't tell when I looked him over.. or tried to heal I’mhim. I still don't get why it did that."
"Alive?!' Lyn sounds surprised, and understandably- it's pretty reasonable to assume a fall like the one Gideon took would be fatal, and as she approaches, she gathers it certainly should've been. Worry floods over her as she looks over the body, ignoring the unusual man for a moment, her gaze falling on Karrn, and-
Wait.
Lyniza's eyes widen as she sees Karrn lick and chew at the man's broken body, twitching as she stands stunned for a moment. "KARRN!" she shouts at the top of her lungs, drawing a map tube from her bag as she stalks towards him. "Have!" The case slips down in her hand a bit before being raised up over her head. "Some!" she continues as she steps up to him, hand shaking. "Decency!" Lyniza finishes her repeated statement as she bends over and smacks Karrn (gently, mind you) in the back of the head.
"By the stars, what is wrong with you?!" She looks about as furious as she sounds, smacking at the back of his head again. "Leave the dead to rest in peace!." Turning her attention to Gideon, her eyes narrow. "I have no idea how in the hells he's alive. Kas! Aribessa! I need some help from one of you!" A glance back over her shoulder at Karrn, eyes narrow and she lets out a huff. "You stay over there."
Having been huddled in the overhang since the shaking ended, Aribessa only moves when her name is shouted up from the cliff. Fear courses through her as she shakily moves to stand, one hand braced on the cliff face. She edges over to the cliff, catching sight of her sparrow flitting in and out of the fog. Once at the edge of the jagged slope that descends into the fog, Aribessa waits for a few, quiet moments.
Down below, a sparrow emerges through the fog, flying in and out of view, then buzzes past Kasimira and up towards where Aribessa waits. She lifts a hand and it alights onto her wrist. Lifting it to her ear, she listens with eyes closed, then finally lets the bird go. Warily, Aribessa begins her descent.
Karrn yelps in surprise as Lyn smacks him. The second hit sends him scurrying a few steps back, still with torn chunks of Gabriel's arm hanging from his mouth. His eyes narrow and he straightens a bit, visibly angry and looming as he swallows the scraps.
"Why? Is just body, like deer. Am hungry, wet, and Walker gave food. Stupid to ignore meal." Hmm. Maybe angry is the wrong term. He seems more frustrated than anything, as if explaining to a child. "And is more. He was city-person, but part of caravan. Almost-pack. In tribe, is honor for pack to eat dead. Keeps strength in pack, is last gift from dead to living."
Then Karrn keeps on going and perfectly spoils the surprising philosophical tangent he'd started. "Also he has strange-good taste."
Kas finally reaches the bottom after a good thirty seconds, and takes a moment to catch her breath before she joins the rest of the group. It doesn't take more than a glimpse to tell that Gabriel is dead, but Gideon is... well, alive. The burn certainly doesn't make any sense, but something about it seems familiar - it's akin to what happens if you strike a devil with something consecrated. Kas uncorks a vial of water, releasing a faint sulphur odor, speaks a word in a harsh tongue, and pours a little at a time on her hand, dabbing it on her employer's body. "That should do the trick. So," she turns to the unfamiliar, metal-clad figure. "Friend or passerby? I'll assume not foe, because there would be more injured people down here."
Kas’ witchcraft takes hold almost immediately, the blasphemous balm sinking into Gideon’s skin to mend wounds and heal abrasions. He stirs, briefly, as his body recuperates from the injuries. Through even after Kasimira’s infernal pact has run its course, Gideon still appears to be unconscious. He looks much better than he did previously, though much of his ashen countenance is either from blood loss or something else entirely. At least the burn from Okrin’s attempt at healing is gone, one less complicated thing to explain.
A few rocks tumble from above as Aribessa finally makes her descent. Landing with a crunch of rocks underfoot, she lurches on seeing Gabriel’s mangled corpse, a hand shooting up to cover her mouth. Wide, fearful eyes sweep to Gideon, and that fear is replaced by something more tempered but also more inscrutable. Brows furrowed, she watches the group’s patron lay motionless, looking from one member of the team to the other, before finally settling her eyes on Okrin.
She says nothing to the emberkin, but recognizes him from when the vanguard was in Piren’s Bluff during her early arrival. Okrin, likewise, recognizes Aribessa Montcleff as one of Gideon’s researchers, with a specialty in machines and constructs. She doesn’t bother with a greeting -- not yet -- instead choosing to walk over to Gideon and kneel down at his side.
“He’s a dhampir,” Aribessa murmurs with brows furrowed. “Living death,” is a simpler clarification. “I... figured it out not long after we left Piren’s Bluff. His reaction to daylight, the way he carried himself, his scent-- it-- “ Shaking her head slowly, Aribessa looks up to the others. “We should search his wagon, he had to have kept something to heal himself with there.” The words are bitter on Aribessa’s tongue, and she tries to hold her contempt for the idea best as she can.
“I don’t care,” Lyniza responds to Karrn, keeping the map tube in hand, but refusing to look back at the gnoll. “In my tribe, we bury the dead. That’s how we respect each other.” As the others begin to gather, she bends down to look at Gideon’s body, looking it over silently as she listens to the others talk. It’s the revelation of his true nature that finally gets her to look up, surprised. “So, does that explain the... scales, I guess these are?” She wrinkles her nose, looking back down at Gideon’s form. “I do wish my Master had looked into his employer a bit more,” she notes. “Would’ve been nice to know.” Shoulders roll, and she sighs. “Well, it is what it is, I guess.”
“No,” Aribessa murmurs, “the scales are inherited from his mother and father. The Hightower family traces its lineage back to the red dragon Jorvulmskir,” she recites, as if it had been read somewhere. “Gideon’s lineage is merely... diluted.”
"Huh? Oh.. well, if you are with Gideon.. then more like co-worker.. I'm with.. er, was with, the Vanguard. Been down in this ravine for over a week, scrounging on roots and berries. These orange ones I found are particularly tasty.. though not as good as charred meat." Okrin seems a bit nervous, for some reason, as if he's not very good at social interactions. Sorry about trying to heal him.. I was not aware he was a.. Dhampir? I healed him with positive energy."
"I guess that explains why it burnt him..."
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RPG Superstar 2014 Top 4
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Gideon’s condition does not appear to be worsening, the magic that Kasimira had woven over him seems to have undone much of the damage that Okrin’s positive energy had, while making some headway at tending to the wounds caused by his fall. The rain remains relentless, hammering down on the valley floor, and up above the sounds of nervous conversation between the remaining survivors of the team are barely audible over the din.
Aribessa circles Gideon’s unconscious form like a hawk, arms wrapped around herself and brows furrowed tightly. Her dark hair is plastered to her face by the rain, her clothing soaked through-and-through. Shivering, she watches the others and the vanguard member Okrin intently. “What happened?” Finally, she speaks, directed to Okrin in vague fashion. “With-- with the vanguard, I mean. Where’s Hollows, where’s the rest of you?” Her stare is level and intense, a wordless demand in them, tacked on to the end of her sentence.
Karrn grumbles to himself. "Bury dead? Is respect to waste meat?" He frowns, deep in thought for a moment, racking his memory for things he'd learned from the village near home. "Do you plant crops over dead? Farmers said rotting meat makes plants grow better."
“It’s respectful bury the body as intact as possible, or burn it,” Lyniza replies matter-of-factly. “It’s neither here nor there for the time being. Leave him be for now, and we’ll decide what to do later.” Turning her attention back from Karrn, Lyniza looks between Aribessa and Okrin with a quirked eyebrow. “This, certainly, is not anything I was expecting,” she remarks, with a bit of a gleam in her eye.
As the Gideon begins to heal, Kasimira stands a short distance away, arms outstretched in the rain, letting the downpour cleanse the mud caked onto her clothes. She stands quietly, alert and listening - to the conversations of her companions and the sky's endless monologue, and for the earth's rumbling and further whispered warnings from her patron.
"Well, I was separated from the rest of the group.. I don't know where Hollows, or most of the rest of the vanguard are now. A number of us, I'm not sure exactly how many, were cut off from the rest of the group by a landslide caused by a tremor similar to, though smaller than, this one. I'm sure the rest of the group survived, but as for us who fell down into the ravine, I was the only survivor. The rest were crushed either by rocks or the fall itself I got lucky, even though I didn’t come out unscathed either. I’ve healed myself since, though." Okrin pauses a moment, and watches the others discuss what to do with the dead, before resuming his story. "We did not have too much trouble up until then, just some freakish wolves that attacked but were easily dispatched. They had metal weaved throughout their bodies, working in tandem with the living tissue. I had never seen nor heard anything like it.. but we weren't there to study things, so we pressed on until the damned tremor hit."
“It’s more than just metal weaved throughout their bodies,” Lyniza notes as she glances past Okrin, a bit further into the distance. “If it’s anything like what we had to deal with, a lot more than that.” Letting out a bit of a sigh, she pushes past him and squints. “I think something survived the wagon fall, at least,” she notes as she looks towards some rubble. “Well, besides Gideon. Who wants to help me pull it out?” She motions off towards a chest sticking up in the mess, a grin on her face. “If it’s anyone in particulars, they probably want it back.”
Rather abruptly, Aribessa looks away from her scrutiny of Okrin to the chest Lyniza pointed out, then hastily hustles over to assist. “I-- I’ll, yeah. I’ll help.” Climbing up the mud and rock, she wipes away hair from her brow and water from her face, then crouches down and starts moving some of the rocks away from the lid of the chest with great difficulty.
"Wolves with metal?" Karrn's ears perk up. "Ratfolk with metal attacked. Aggressive. More than should be. Maybe connected?" He hears Lyniza and Aribessa point out the chest, and pads over to it. "This? Can help pull out." He plants his boots firmly, grabs the sides of the box, and begins gnollhandling it out of the ground as best he can.
"I'll assist." Okrin's gaze follows them over to the chest, then heads over there himself. After stowing his shield, he grabs what he can of the chest and heaves, seeing if he can pull it out with brute force while the others move rocks. As Karrn comes over to help, Okrin moves over so they both can grab it and heave. The chest doesn't take much for the two men to pull out, and after a few moments they unearth it. "Wasn't too hard, eh? Glad it wasn't completely buried."
“Almost -nngh- certainly connected, Karrn.” Lyniza lets out a heavy breath as they get the chest out, looking down at it with her hands on her hips. “Which is curious in an of itself, but that’s something to discuss in a bit.” She leans forward a bit, scrutinising over the chest. “Well. It’s still locked, I think? Anyone care to try? Though if it explodes, I’ not taking the blame.”
Karrn shrugs. “Can open locks by breaking them. Not good at other ways.”
“What? No. What? I mean- make sure it’s still locked and not broken.” Lyniza gives Karrn a somewhat perplexed look. “We’ll leave any breaking and entering for when we’re someplace a bit safer.”
As the rest of the party crowds around the chest, Kas waits for them to move out of the way for just a moment. That moment arrives, and she utters a monosyllable as she flicks her outstretched hand. A glob of acid flies forth and squarely strikes the lock. There is a sulfurous sizzling and a plume of corrosive gasses that rise from the lock as it bubbles and melts, and while portions of the lock and the chest look damaged, the locking mechanism hasn’t dissolved away entirely. “Hmmm. Thought that would do it. A second time would probably do the trick.” She starts to repeat the motion, but pauses to reconsider. “On second thought, it’s likely not the best option to open it in the rain, if there’s maps or papers in there.”
Watching Kasimira’s attempt at cracking the lock with wide eyes, Aribessa covers her mouth and nose with one hand at the waft of acrid fumes. Voice muffled, she murmurs, “Well planned,” in sarcastic tone. “Can we worry about getting out of this f!&~ing rain first?” The young woman’s patience seems to be wearing thin. Perhaps its the dull pounding at the back of her head from her earlier concussive introduction to the landslide that’s tempering her temperament.
“Also a good idea.” Kas cocks her head. “He should be good to move...right...about...sometime around now. I imagine the bones are healed enough that we don’t have to worry about severing his spine. That wouldn’t do.” She grabs a small fragment of broken glass that catches her eye, taking care not to split her fingers as she wraps it in a piece of cord, then walks back to the cliff face. “Hoy!” she calls up, “We’re heading back up!”
Karrn glances around, the chest having lost his interest. The bottom of the ravine didn’t have much to hold it either. Just broken wagon bits, the occasional mangled limb... oh, wait. Horses. Lyniza might have strange customs, but surely she wouldn’t begrudge him some horse. He prowls over and begins to eat messily; the earthquake, stress, and climb down have made him rather peckish. Bones crack loudly between his jaws.
“I-” Gritting her teeth, Lyniza looks away from Karrn as he bends down by the horse. “FIrst of all, I can’t watch that,” she remarks, thumbing back in his direction as she looks at Aribessa and Okrin. “Secondly, I think I have to agree with you, Ari. At least once we give the area one more quick once over. But we should probably get somewhere soon. Before anymore of the wolves or rats or Gods knows what else decide to see if the rockslide finished us off. I’ve had enough of all of that for one day, if everyone’s okay with that.”
Searching through the rubble, Okrin comes across something that looks a like it survived the fall. "Hey, guys! I found something! Some kind of.. wolf-headed cane, and a metal scroll case with gold-tipped ends. Both look pretty undamaged! Anyone know if they're anything important?" Okrin digs out both of the items and holds one of them in each hand for the others to see.
On seeing the cane, Aribessa’s expression pales some. About to answer Lyniza, she instead directs her full attention to Okrin. “That’s-- Gideon’s sword-cane. I think he needs it more for walking than fighting, typically. I imagine he’ll be thrilled to know it’s intact when he wakes up.” The scroll case, however, elicits a more shrouded look as she partially lids her eyes. “Take it all up, we can bring it with us.”
A last, brutal crunch, and Karrn returns to the rest of the group, picking his fangs with a claw. “Is wet, need shelter for night. Find new trail in sun.” He grits his teeth slightly. “Caves can be bad choice but best choice now. Think go back is good idea.”
* * * * *
It took nearly an hour for the team to be ready to move again. Between minor injuries among the teamsters and hauling Gabriel’s corpse and Gideon’s unconscious body up the broken earth of the muddy slope the process was arduous. Shaken by the entire situation and demoralized by the inability to do anything with the bodies of the teamsters buried by the landslide, the majority of the expedition has fallen into a dour mood. Silence, save for the hammering of the rain, is the only accompaniment.
With the road ahead washed out, decision to turn around and seek shelter in the caves that had been seen earlier in the day is made among the survivors. Gideon’s unconscious body is set up in the cot in the alchemy wagon, and it is here that Okrin gets his first look at the well outfitted laboratory on wheels, though under much more dire circumstances than had been originally planned when this ill-fated expedition first set out.
With the wagons turned around and the decision to seek shelter made, the last hour of the day’s journey is spent in the dark and the rain. The glow of sunrods is muted by the downpour that does not let up as the sun goes down. Thrice the wagons get stuck in the mud and mire caused by the heavy rain, making the journey to the caves even more taxing. Thankfully, Biatz and Karrn are able to work together to mitigate the hindrances to great effectiveness, and the pair work nearly as well in the pitch blackness of night as they do during the day. Biatz does not look to have fully recovered from the quake, his confidence shattered by his own behavior, though no outward displays of such turmoil are immediately evident.
Eventually, the two remaining wagons and the handful of surviving expedition members reach the caves at some late hour of the night. The caves themselves are spacious, though not enough to move the wagons into, nor does the rocky terrain even permit the wagons to be near the cave mouth, but rather fifteen feet down a boulder-laden slope towards the opening in the mountainside. Karrn and Biatz were right when they had spotted it earlier in the day from the way-point left by the vanguard, the cave was at one point home to an animal of considerable size, likely a bear. Now, though, it seems to be largely abandoned and no recent sign of activity present.
Entering the cave, the two scouts discover that it traverses some three hundred feet into the mountain before the passage becomes too cramped to follow any further, though the sound of trickling water echoing from the smallest of passages indicates that there may yet be more caves in the mountain elsewheres. They are, however, dry and safe. Further making matters regarding the cave intriguing, is the sign that prior to it being the dwelling of an animal, other more advanced things may have resided here. Faded colors and obscure shapes on the wall weathered by time give the impression of paintings alongside rough grooves carved in the wall, perhaps etchings from some ancient people that once dwelled in the Aspodell.
Those are two thing that have been in small measure as of late.
The surviving teamsters and bodyguards bring some supplies inside the cave along with Aribessa and the others. Bedrolls, a cooking pot, dry firewood and other necessities are hauled in from the supply wagon along with Gideon’s unconscious form. The largest section of the cave is soon converted into a communal living space, with a fire -- unable to be seen from the outside -- burning bright and hot within. It is, at the least, a semblance of normalcy.
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“You know what communal caves don’t have a lot of?” Lyniza remarks, arms folded as she looks towards the entrance of the cavern. “Privacy. Which sucks because I would really love to change out of these clothes right now.” She’s not really talking to anyone in particular,mostly just venting her frustrations at anyone that’ll listen. “Or maybe I just don’t like caves.”
With a wet slap Aribessa’s clothing falls to the cave floor, perhaps just to show Lynizia that she’s mistaken, or perhaps because her soaking wet clothing has become all-too-frustrating. Swiftly, but shamelessly, changing her clothing from what was stored in her pack, Aribessa’s brief interlude shows off a history of violence detailed across her back and legs in the form of vicious scars.
Okrin and Karrn happen to catch something in the brief time that Aribessa is changing, something about her scars that stands out. At the center of Aribessa’s chest is a round scar roughly the size of a gold coin, but skin has not evenly healed over what caused the wound, as it appears a rough-shod piece of metal is still sticking up a quarter inch out of her breastbone.
Swiftly, Aribessa hides that distinguishing mark as she assumes a new set of clothing more utilitarian than the last. Leather breaches, tall boots and a long black tunic belted at the waist. She throws her wet clothes over a rock by the fire to dry, then shakes out her tangled, dark hair.
Karrn shucks his armor and retreats to one of the side passages after everyone files into the cave, then proceeds to shake the worst of the water from his fur. Now slightly less miserable and resembling a drowned dog, he returns to the main chamber without a care in the world for his nudity (though the fur probably helps protect the delicate sensibilities of the caravan), returns to his gear, and begins carefully drying and oiling his scale mail. The blacksmith back home had been very insistent on taking proper care of it, and the routine had quickly become a form of meditation for Karrn. The gnoll is quickly oblivious to the outside world beyond his armor and the pleasant feeling of the fire on his back.
Notably, though, he sits a great deal closer to the teamsters and bodyguards than he had before, apparently figuring they'd had time to grow used to him, especially after seeing him work for their betterment. He doesn't expect them to be at ease around him, but hopefully he doesn't creep them out quite so much now. It probably helps that none of them had seen him tasting Gabriel.
When Aribessa makes a point of proving her wrong, Lyniza half frowns, half grins - it’s a very lopsided expression, one way or another. “Or, I guess, there’s that option.” She shakes her head, watching Aribessa for a moment before she looks away. “Didn’t know you had it in you.Guess I should stop being a baby at it. I think I’ve grown too used to living in Magnimar.” With that, Lyniza wanders off a bit, though the wet rustling that follows likely means she’s decided to follow in Aribessa’s footsteps. Figuratively, this time.
Unlike Aribessa, when Lyniza returns she is arguarbly less dressed than before. Her new clothes are loose and low cut, the sleeves and legs made of thin, almost seethrough material, a light shawl draped around her shoulders. Despite this, she doesn’t look too terribly cold - certainly less so than she did with her wet clothes on.
Okrin, upon noticing Aribessa dropping her clothes, quickly flips down his darkened goggles in embarrassment. Although no one can see it, he's blushing at the sudden view. He noticed the piece of metal in her, but was.. slightly too occupied with other things to really pay much attention to it. Even with the smoked goggles, he saw enough. He won't be forgetting that view anytime soon.
"I'm... just going to dry myself out by the fire.. no need to change clothes." With that, Okrin sits next to the fire, fully decked out in his wet gear, and occasionally snaps his fingers, causing a spark to flare up in the campfire. He seems rather intent on watching the flames crackle and dance, and sits quietly. His smoked goggles are still down, as well.
With Biatz and Kasimira along with some of the other team members asleep, only a handful sit around the fire now. One of the bodyguards who serve Gideon sits with his armor off, staring into the crackling flame with slouched posture. Aribessa comes to sit cross-legged near him, the scroll-case retrieved from Gideon’s carriage with her.
“What are we going to do?” Is a pointed question that is more meanderingly worded by the rueful looking bodyguard. Karrn recognizes him as the one that had nearly run off after the quake struck. His listless expression seems tempered by frustration and uncertainty.
At his question, rhetorical or not, Aribessa looks over to the others with one brow raised. “He has a point.”
“We wait,” Lyniza answers as she walks up to the fire, still affixing small, glittering pieces to her outfit. “At least until Gideon’s awake. I mean, that seems the decent thing do.” She falls silent for a moment, thinking as she looks at the fire. “After that, I don’t rightly know. While we’ve seen a lot of interesting stuff, I don’t- I don’t have a very good feeling about things at this point, to be entirely honest.”
She rolls her shoulders and heaves out a sigh, before shaking her head. “Either way, there’s not much we can do until morning. Which leads me to ask...” She looks around the cave common grounds and frowns a bit, sure she already knows the answer to her question. “Provided it didn’t get smashed, I haven’t checked yet, does anyone know how to play a lute?”
"Keep going," Karrn says with an ear twitch. "We have task. If this make you want go back, you made mistake to sign on paper. This is not city. Land itself is enemy sometimes. But sometimes it is great friend. Must know this." He’s silent for a few moments, working on a stubborn bit of armor. “I not know lute, but I know tribe camp-chants.”
"If.. if Gideon is healed by negative energy.. in the morning I can prepare a spell or two that'll do the trick, if we want to help him gain consciousness quicker. But I can only renew my prepared magic in the mornings, during my prayers to my goddess." Okrin continues to sit near the fire, still occasionally causing it to spark up. He seems oddly fascinated by the flame.
“Not much’f a musician,” the guardsman notes off-handedly. “Played the drum when I was a boy, squiring for Sir Alvis Jegarre in Egorian. Military march stuff.” He shakes his head, eyes shutting. “That was a damned long time ago.”
Aribessa seems more focused on Karrn’s sentiments than talk of music. “I think we should turn back and forget all about this,” she says with a dismissive tone of voice. “How many have died now? We should let this go, cut our losses and return to Piren’s Bluff and go out separate ways. If Gideon wants to die in the mountains...” she looks in the direction of his silhouette at the back of the cave, wrapped in blankets and laid in a bedroll. “Let him.”
“A beat would suffice just as well.” Lyniza’ll figure something out. But for now, she sits across from Aribessa, looking dead ahead at her. “I’m not inclined to carry on, myself. I’m sure my master would even be willing to turn back by now. But I’m at least talking to Gideon before we up and leave. If he wants to keep going, there has to be a reason why, an’ I’m rather keen on knowing what it is.” She pauses, before leaning back a bit and smirking. “Particularly given the recent developments.”
Karrn finishes his armor and draws his greatsword to inspect its edge for nicks from the fight with the ratfolk. "We. Keep. Going. Until Gideon says." He digs in his pack for a whetstone and starts sharpening dulled patches of the jagged hunk of metal. "Gideon is leader of almost-pack. He says if we go back." His bestial features give little indication of the thousand questions flying through his mind.
"Turn Back?" Okrin's temper flares up like the campfire for a moment at the talk of abandoning the mission, before quickly cooling down to smoldering coals. "And waste the lives of all those who have died so far? No. We will not waste the lives of those men who have died to see this through. If we end up dying in the attempt of this journey.. then so be it. We will be with our respective gods in the afterlife, and that'll be that. Gideon seemed very intent on this journey - I don't believe he'll like your sentiments of turning back. We should wait until Gideon is back on his feet, then press on. I do not want to turn back knowing we lost so many men for no reason. I will not stop anyone who wishes to turn back, but I keep going until Gideon himself chooses to turn back." Okrin flips up his tinted goggles as he finishes his speech, so he can again see clearly, and his bright-yellow eyes, almost twinkling in the firelight, seeth with annoyance at Aribessa.
“Well then,” Lyniza says softly, taking in a deep breath and closing her eyes. “I suppose it all rests on the shoulders of the man of the hour.” She grimaces, casting her eyes up at the ceiling of the cave. “We can’t wait forever for him to wake up, though. I can’t rightly tell how long it’ll take, and it could be a while for all we know.”
The bodyguard grows silent, staring into the flickering fire as he listens to the conversations go on around him. Aribessa seems put off by the willingness of the team to follow Gideon to the bitter end of the journey, though her willingness to press further against the point also has quelled. Instead, she’s taken to inspecting the metal scroll case that was retrieved from the rubble, looking at the scarabs on the end caps and the gold inlay. After some cursory inspection, Aribessa sets it down on the cave floor and draws in a tired, frustrated breath.
It’s quiet, again, for a short time before someone speaks up. “When I was twelve,” the bodyguard murmurs, “I joined the Chelish military. Compulsory service, that. Trained for six months and was assigned to the sixty-fifth pike infantry. Carried that gods-damned sword-on-a-pole with me everywhere I bloody well went. Wound up carrying it all the way up into Isger to quell a rebellion happening in a border village there...”
Shifting his weight to find comfort, the bodyguard lets his legs straighten out as he continues staring into the fire. “My commanding officer, Petir Ilvad, marched us straight into a thunder storm in the middle of summer’s heat. The men all b+@++ed,” he notes with a griping tone, “soaked wet to the bone but still warmer than this frosty piss comin’ out of the sky here.” A nod is given in the direction of the outside. “But we marched. We marched when the wind picked up, marched when the rain was blowin’ sideways and picking banners out of standard-bearer’s hands. We marched when trees uprooted their damned selves and birds didn’t even want t’fly anymore...”
Squinting at the flame, the bodyguard pauses for a moment, then looks down into his lap where his hands are folded. “A storm’d come in up off the coast from the Inner Sea. Typhoon, they called it. Lost a lot of kick over land, but when it struck us it still had the winds t’lift a man off’f his feet and carry him a hundred yards, dash him bloodily across a rock an’ call it done.” Looking back up, the bodyguard exhales a sigh through his nose. “Petir ordered us t’keep marching. So we did. But I left that f!+~ing pike behind, marched at the back of the ranks... another boy-- I forget his name now-- didn’t drop his. Thought he was impressing the commander by carrying it all the way. Lightning struck him dead.”
Clearing his throat, the bodyguard shakes his head and pulls his legs back up into a bent position, resting his forearms on his knees. “Just because a man asks you t’follow him... doesn’t mean it’s a good idea.” His point made, Aribessa has only one question.
“What happened in Isger?”
“Town was flattened by the Typhoon,” the guard muses quietly as Artibessa’s expression pales. “So,” he shrugs, tiredly.
“We turned around and marched home.”
“Sounds reasonable enough t’ me,” Lyniza says, head tilting to the side even as she keeps her eyes turned upwards. “I guess another question is how easily any of us can get back on our own, if Gideon wants to keep going. I know my way around a book and a vial. Directions, not so much.” She pauses again, looking back up towards teh cave’s entrance. “I suppose I should bury Gabriel in the morning, either way.”
Karrn, however, seems unimpressed. "Work on storytelling. Not great. And not relevant. Not in huge spin-storm, in mountains. Earth-shake rare. Not good chance to suffer again. With so many city people, amazed so many live. City people not used to mountain wild. Takes different touch. Different think. Is why I Walk this trail." The capital letter is audible even through Karrn's accent. "I learn strange ways from you. To pay, I teach. Know much about wilds. Learn and grow. Is Walker's way." With that, he stands and stretches, resolving to cook something tastier than the trail rations. Food always helped with bad moods.
"Wind and rain.. that kind of weather is predictable and understandable. Back where I'm from... the wind was filled with razor sharp dust, the rain burned like acid, and the lightning was the very stuff of nightmares. These storms were made up of raw magical energy.. dangerous beyond comparison. If someone survived being out in one... they'd be changed for the worse. I've seen the mutants that come out of those kinds of storms... extra arms coming out of wierd places.. freakish growths on their bodies.. they weren't a sight you'd want to see. Back there, we relished normal weather. I'm glad I left that place behind many years ago." Okrin seems to have calmed down now, although he continues to snap his fingers at the fire from time to time, out of habit apparently. "Gideon should be up tomorrow, if my magic can do the job. Now that I know he is healed by negative energy, it will be a simple issue to bring him back to the world of the conscious. We just need to wait until morning, so that I may ask Brigh for her gifts."
"Is anyone hungry? I found these berries down in the ravine, and I've been subsisting on them for the past week. I lost my rations in the landslide, so I've had to make due. They're quite good!" Okrin pulls out a handful of bright orange berries from a pouch of his, and offers them to anyone who's interested.
It was going to be a long night.
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RPG Superstar 2014 Top 4
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A few hours pass to the sound of the pouring rain. In that time, the remaining bodyguards, Kasimira and Okrin all turn in to sleep for the night. Restlessness and too many errant thoughts keeps Aribessa awake, and for a time she merely hovers around where Gideon has been laid out, watching the Chelish nobleman sleep away his injuries. Karrn and Lynizia, too, find no comfort in sleep’s embrace, not after the day that they had just had. At least, not yet.
Eventually, Aribessa tired of watching Gideon and she leaves to explore the further depths of the cave beyond the communal sleeping area. She’s gone for a while, off into the dark recesses of the cave’s chambers, and returns quietly with a curious look on her face. “I... think I found something,” Aribessa offers in a quiet tone of voice to the few still awake, so as to not disturb the ones asleep.
With a motion of her head, she nods back into the lightless depths of the cave without anything in her hand to light the way.
Karrn’s ears prick and he looks up from his bowl of stew. It’d been nearly impossible to figure out what exactly he’d put in it, given that he kept lapsing into the Gnoll names for the ingredients, but it was hot, hearty, and actually tasted pretty good. “Good something or scary something?” Despite the events of the evening, his good mood is impossible to repress; the young gnoll seems to be thriving at being back out in the wild again.
Lyniza has been sitting close to the fire for most of the evening, ever since the previous discussion had come to an end. She’d tried sleep at one point, but it was just no good - exhausted to the point of being too uncomfortable to sleep, it seemed. With her clothes still largely soaking wet, she still wears her dancer’s attire, though she now has a borrowed heavy cloak, mostly dry, draped over her shoulders.
Upon hearing Aribessa, she quirks an eyebrow, looking up from the flame and in the direction of the voice, then over at Karrn. “What he said,” she echoes, though after a moment a smile creeps up on her face. “No, wait... if it was scary, you’d be letting us know as loudly as possible, wouldn’t you?” Slowly, she rises up to her feet, brushing herself off as she does. “What’s up?” Another glance over to Karrn, this time to see if he shares her curiosity.
Karrn wolfs down the last of his stew, sets the bowl back by the fire and stands. He leaves his greatsword where it is, though he does make sure his oddly-curved knife is still secure in its sheath on his forearm, just in case. He seems calm enough... wait, no, his fur isn’t fluffy from his constant efforts at drying it for the past few hours, he’s just vibrating with barely-concealed curiosity.
As Aribessa walks into the narrow passage that leads out of the front of the cave into the deeper passages, she lifts a hand to her mouth and whispers a breathy word across her palm. “Oahz,” comes with a breath of luminous air across a small piece of stone cradled in her palm. The rock catches the radiant breath and the light seems to seep into it, then brightens to glow with the warm orange radiance of a torch. With the lighted stone in hand, Aribessa leads Karrn and Lynizia through a very narrow passage that Karrn had initially scouted when they found the cave. Here, just past a fissure in the stone, she pauses and steps over a small pile of rock debris and rucks under a snarl of roots hanging from the cave ceiling.
The passage turns right, and as Karrn recalls leads into a slightly larger but unsuitably damp cave that wouldn’t have served properly as a sleeping site. What Karrn couldn’t see in the dark, beyond faint colored markings on the stone, is that the earlier dismissed “cave scrawlings” are something more elaborate all together.
Holding up the light in her palm, Aribessa reveals the somewhat domed chamber to be absolutely covered with carvings and faded paintings in white and red. “It’s actually a little of both...” the dark-haired woman admits in a hushed tone of voice, turning around to face Lynizia and Karrn. “I think Gideon... is right.”
Directly behind Aribessa, there is a white outline of a jagged mountain, and streaking diagonally above it are two dozen red lines, like spears, all striking the mountainside, with the largest of them hitting the mountain’s peak directly.
Karrn tilts his head as he inspects the cave paintings, seeing them in more than just greyscale smudges for the first time. “Did not think bring torch. Not used to need color to see in caves,” he admits a bit sheepishly.
“Well. That’s... unexpected,” Lyniza remarks as she looks at the carvings, blinking a time or two. Stepping closer to the wall, she leans forward and inspects it, eyes narrowed. “Lord, I wish I had a kit from the wagon right now...” she mutters. “A magnifying glass, one of the text books...” She reaches up, rubbing a hand over it and quirking an eyebrow. “Did anything get salvaged? Any paper, maybe some chalk or charcoal?” She’s, at this point, less curious about Gideon being right - that’ll come later - and more intensely interested in the carvings before her.
Karrn thinks for a moment, and grins. Well, it’s probably a grin, since the only teeth he bares are the ones he always does from his scar. “Wait here. Have idea.” He lopes off easily, dropping to all fours as he does. It’s not all that long before he returns with a small, charred hunk of wood from the campfire and a ragged-edged chunk of white fabric. If Lyn doesn’t look too closely, she might miss that it’s from Gabriel’s clothes.
“Use fire-sticks to draw as pup,” Karrn says proudly, offering the implements.
When Karrn finds makeshift charcoal and cloth for Lynizia, Aribessa holds her tongue on a response about the supplies. Instead she walks towards another one of the walls in the room, and raises her hand to illuminate another painting. This one, also in red and white, depicts four long-limbed humanoid figures with what look to be four arms, two raised up into the air and two held down at their sides. Smaller figures painted in white are kneeling in front of them, heads bowed and arms outstretched in front of them.
“I... don’t know what these are,” Aribessa murmurs, before directing the light to another surface with a different painting. This one shows those same four-armed figures, but three of themare drawn encased in thick-lined rectangles with their arms crossed over their chest. A fourth one stands apart, not boxed in, and the people in white are shown throwing spears and firing bows. “But, I think I get the implications...”
“I’m glad one of us does,” Lyniza replies with a bit of a laugh, looking at the cloth and charcoal she’s been handed, and then at the wall in front of her . She wrinkles her nose, fingers rubbing across the cloth. “Did you tear someone shirt for this? I’ll have to go check my bag, see if I have any paper. Or tear a page out of my formula book...” Stepping back, Lyn looks over the drawings thoughtfully, a finger tapping against her chin. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen anything with four arms like that. Well, not in person. Something about it... certainly bipedal. Three fingers. There’s something about this.” She lets out a huff, leaning back and crossing her arms. “This is going to bother me for days.”
“From shirt, not used. Can draw on.” Karrn replies absentmindedly as he inspects each painting in turn, tilting his head in curiosity. “Is strange. Is like god-drawings, but with hate for gods. Or...” his eyes narrow, “pretend-gods. Gods not die to not-god teeth.” Then, something about the first drawing, the one with red lines raining onto the mountain from above, catches Karrn’s eye. He stares at it for several long moments, trying to figure it out, and starts speaking in Gnoll, apparently unaware of what he’s saying. “Thunask thakh, Thunask thun, Thunask kumer, Thunask namus...”
“Not used?” Lyniza rolls her eyes and tosses the cloth back, aiming for it to land on Karrn’s head. Shaking her head, she turns back to the wall and resumes her thoughtful consideration of the pictures depicted upon it. “Well, either way, we need either to get Gideon back here to look at it, or... I dunno. Karrn and I’ll draw copies later.” She closes her eyes for a moment, and heaves out another sigh as her shoulder slouch. “If Gideon might be right, we really can’t leave. You know that, right?” She glances over at Aribessa, attempting to gauge her response. “Well, we could. But it might be a bad idea.”
Aribessa looks down to the floor, then furrows her brows and breathes in deeply before exhaling a slow, strained sigh. “I don’t think Gideon’s after just fallen rocks from the sky...” she says in a hushed voice, looking back to the entrance of this cave. “I’m worried that-- “
“That I’m not telling you everything?” Gideons voice comes suddenly from where Aribessa had just looked towards the mouth of the passage. Limping into the chamber with one hand braced against his cruch, Gideon is hunched and weary looking, still bandaged and cradling one arm close to his chest. Aribessa’s breath hitches in the back of her throat when Gideon steps into the light, and she closes her fingers around the stone somewhat, dimming the cave.
Neither Karrn nor Lynizia noticed Gideon’s approach, and there’s no telling how long he’d been there watching, listening. “You have every reason to wonder that very thing, Aribessa...” in the dark, there’s a faint red glow behind Gideon’s pupils.
“Are the rest of you as curious?”
Karrn comes out of his strange trance just in time for Gideon’s last question. He yelps loudly and spins, fur bristling and kukri in a white-knuckled grip before realizing who he was brandishing a rather sharp knife at. Or rather, brandishing and completely failing to be intimidating in any way. “Walker’s fangs!” Karrn curses, sheathing his knife, “Make noise in future!”
‘I mean, no shi-” Lyniza’s retort to Aribessa is cutoff by the sudden sound of Gideon’s voice, and Lyniza’s eyes widen, the alchemist looking over her shoulder and letting out a nervous laugh. “Ahahaha! Glad to see you’re up and about, Gideon!” she remarks, trying to sound nonchalant about it all. But at his question, she clears her throat and turns to face him, hands on her hips. “I mean... it’s not my place, I guess, to pry into someone else’s business, but with the way things are going?” SHe quirks an eyebrow and leans forward, looking Gideon in the eye. “I think being on the same page might help us all a little bit.”
“I told you all the story this cave painting depicts,” Gideon quietly explains, limping more into the light. “That spears of fire fell from the sky as the Age of Darkness settled on the world.” He looks at the paintings with interest, clearly having seen them for the first time. “But the stories did not end there...” Reaching inside of his jacket, Gideon removes a fist-size hemisphere of metal covered with engravings and studded with tiny flecks of diamond. “This item came from somewhere out there,” he holds it up to the cave painting, “from them,” is added, “and if I’m right... all their knowledge lies here.”
Gideon looks to Aribessa for a moment, then to the lightened stone in her hand. There’s nothing said, but suspicion flashes in his eyes before he turns to look at Karrn, then Lynizia. “Visitors from another world,” Gideon brusquely explains of everything on the wall in one broad stroke. “More pressingly... where is Gabriel?”
Oh.
“Gabriel body is in cave. Lyniza wants bury good meat, says is not honor to eat. Is this city custom? Am not familiar with city-people death-business.” Karrn saves the day with his mastery of tact.
The sound of skin slapping against skin as Lyn’s face finds it’s way rather suddenly into her palm echos a bit in the cave, and the alchemist reaches out with her other hand to grab Karrn by a tuft of his fur and pull him over closer to them. “The rockslide left us with a lot of casualties,” she says in a quieter voice, fingers parting so that one eye can look out at Gideon. “Gabriel was among them, I’m afraid. Along with a lot of the men. Morale’s kinda bad right now.”
Her lips quirk side to side as she considers her next comments, glancing over towards Aribessa. “I don’t- disbelieve you? But I mean... I dunno. Something seems...” Teeth tug at her lip as she falls quiet again, a moment passing before she releases Karrn. “And it’s not just a city thing!” she insists, looking a bit cross as she folds her arms over her chest. Suddenly, for the first time all evening, she feels really cold, muttering something about wishing her clothes were dry.
Karrn’s ears droop as he sees Lyn shiver slightly. He still doesn’t understand why, but he knows he made her feel bad. His mother would have words with him if she found out he was cruel to someone, even by accident. “Am sorry,” Karrn offers softly, “Is all strange to me. Need blanket? Should be warm from fire now, and fur is good for me.”
News of Gabriel’s death elicits a momentary look of frustration on Gideon’s battered face, but is quickly passes. “He was a bright mind,” is all he has to say on it, turning his back on the cave paintings as he starts to limp back towards where he’d come from. “We leave at first light,” seems remarkably stubborn of him to say in his condition. “You should all get some rest...”
“First light? Are you sure about that, Gideon?” Lyn looks up, a worried expresion on her face as she regards the operation leader. She grumbles a bit. “We’re going to need time to get everything in order. We lost horses, wagons, people... it’s a bit of a mess right now.”
Grimacing, she looks over to Karrn and shakes her head. “Thanks, but... I’ll be fine once I get to sleep.”
“First light too soon,” Karrn protests, “Mountains dangerous even when not tired from earth-shake and rain and backtrack and cave. And path is covered. Need scout new way around dirtslide. Will take time.”
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RPG Superstar 2014 Top 4
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Morning comes with little reprieve from the dismal weather. A light rain falls over the Aspodell mountains and dark clouds heavy with rain promise to bring more in the coming hours. Dawn is barely bright enough to be called that, the stickbare trees outside of the cave only partly visible in the gray haze of morning light. Fog has rolled in as well in this low elevation, thick and voluminous like rolling clouds hugging the hillside. In that precipitation the remaining teamsters prepare the surviving wagons for the day’s journey, loading up what supplies were able to be salvaged from Gideon’s carriage the day before onto the small open-roofed storage wagon.
Come morning, Gideon seems less prickly than he did the night before. His waking state comes as a surprise to those who hadn’t been cornered by him during the night when the cave paintings were found. Discussion of them has been on the lips of the teamsters and somewhat lightened the mood, seen as sign that the expedition is not based solely on oral history and conjecture after all. Aribessa seems to be the only one not enlivened by the discovery of the cave paintings, seated in her hooded cloak on the driver’s bench of the alchemy wagon, replacing the driver that died in the earthquake the day before.
Lynizia and Kasimira are tucked away inside the alchemy wagon, still organizing supplies and trying to get a better handle on what survived the earthquake. Gideon, now unable to travel privately in the comfort of his own carriage has decided to ride with the two women in the alchemy wagon. Walking, especially with his bad leg, seems out of the question.
When the time finally comes to set out, however, there is no planned route. Departing the alchemy wagon, Gideon converses briefly with Biatz, whom he sends ahead to scout a winding path suitable for foot traffic -- but not the caravan -- into the higher elevations. From there, he makes his way to Karrn and the newly joined Okrin, to whom Gideon’s surprise is palpable.
“Gentlemen,” Gideon greets the pair as they lend a hand lifting some heavy equipment into the rear wagon. Limping over with the help of his cane, Gideon looks from the two up to where Biatz is disappearing into the fog. “It appears we have our work cut out for us today...” He waits until Biatz is out of sight, then turns to look at Okrin. “With the road the Vanguard scouted out gone, we’re going to need to take an alternate path to the excavation site.” His dark red eyes flick briefly to Karrn, then back to the aasimar. “Did the Vanguard spot any forking trails we might be able to take?”
“Hmm..” Okrin takes a moment to think, his head tilting upwards towards the rainy sky as he does so. His eyes are protected by his goggles, so doing so doesn’t get water in his eyes. “Yes, there was a fork.. a road that snaked up into the mountain.. the others said that it would take the group three or four days off course though, as it went around the opposite side of the mountain.”
Karrn shrugs. “Is better than making new path. Take longer but not as long as pulling wagon over rockslide.” The gnoll finishes adjusting one of the straps of his armor as he thinks, and suddenly his ears droop. “Is not good. Know place. Father warn me of dwarf-place vanishing. No trails. Mother says is haunted.” His brow furrows as he obviously tries to find the right word. “Not haunted. Cursed. Bad place-magic.”
Gideon’s brows furrow together and he looks back up to the trail he’d just send Biatz to scout. “Balaavossk,” he intones, as if familiar with Karrn’s story. “I’ve heard the stories myself, that there used to be a Sky Citadel out here, but that it fell into a valley and disappeared... all the people of Balaavossk disappeared with it.” He snorts, derisively, and looks back to Okrin and Karrn. “I’m not going to let that get in our way.”
Nodding to Karrn, Gideon motions to the front of the caravan. “I’ve sent Biatz on to scout ahead, you’ll be responsible for getting us to Balaavossk, or whatever’s left of it. As for you,” he gestures to Okrin. “I want you to tell me why in the Hell you’re back here and not with the vanguard.”
Okrin shrugs and says, “Well, short story is, there was an earthquake, followed by a rockslide, and I got separated. I was the only survivor of those who got separated as we went down the side of the mountain. I wasn’t able to save anyone.. but oddly enough, I met up with this group in a similar fashion when you went down the side of the mountain in your wagon. I was there to help dig you out..”
“Will guide. Try to go through curse-place fast. Do not like stories.” Karrn lays a nervous paw on the hilt of his kukri, reassuring himself with its presence. Joruk had always been the one that paid attention to their mother’s lessons on magic and such; he’d always been more interested in fieldcraft. Figured. “Wish Joruk was here...” Karrn mutters, already scanning the path ahead to try catching small signs of what to expect.
Peeking out from the alchemy wagon, Lyniza quirks an eyebrow as she looks at the reconstructed caravan. “Well. Here we go. Oh well, in for a copper, in for a pound.” There’s a bit of an uneasy look on her face as she surveys the group, before pulling back into the wagon and taking a seat, a long sigh escaping.
With assignments made, Gideon returns to the alchemy wagon to settle in for the long, bumpy ride up the mountainside. As the caravan finally sets out, Karrn leads the way into the rolling fog, occasionally catching glimpses of Biatz in the distance. Ever since the earthquake, the fellow scout has been distancing himself from the others. Troubled, perhaps, by what happened.
The weather stays consistently damp and gray over the course of the morning, and it doesn’t take long for Karrn to find the fork that Okrin had aluded to. Not far from where the group had made the foray around the southern face of the mountain range where the quake happened, there was a weathered and ancient trail that cut north into the mountains between two high cliffs. Rocky, derelict and clearly abandoned, the presence of ancient paving stones is the only indication that it ever was a road of any worth.
Two hours out from their cave camp, the expedition is treated to an unexpected sight as they pass through a high ravine where sheer cliffs flank the caravan and the jagged peaks of the Aspodell rise up around them. Here, carved into the rock face, weather-worn ancient reliefs of bearded dwarven figures are barely distinguishable from natural rock formations. Small trees twist and bristle up from fissures in the stone. Moss and ivy spider-web across once pristine surfaces. Whoever these ancient figures were, they’ve long since been forgotten.
Karrn moves very slowly and cautiously, eying the carvings with equal parts curiosity and wariness. “Not seen anything like this,” he says, prowling closer for a better look. He draws his greatsword as he moves forward. Just in case.
“I wonder if this has anything to do with what we found in the caves,” Lyniza comments to herself as she hops down from the alchemy wagon, moving to get a closer look at them. “Definitely old. Maybe at least as old as the wall paintings. Huh.” She leans forward close to one, brushing some of the nature off of it.
"Well, I don't know how old they are, but they would've been a pain to build. The reliefs probably took at least two decades to carve.. If these are Dwarven reliefs, it's a testament to Dwarven stonecunning that they've fared so well." Okrin stands amazed at the spectacle; Even Dongun Hold back in Alkenstar had nothing quite like this, not that Okrin saw much of it.
In the rain they look solemn, dour stone figures lamenting their own passing. The caravan doesn’t stop to admire them, only rumbles past on creaking wheels. The wind that blows through this canyon is cold, colder than the air on the other side was and the darker clouds out the northern end do little to dull the sensation that worse weather is approaching, both now and in the future. As the caravan emerges from the other side of the pass, they’ve raised in elevation some fifty feet and the road takes a sharp right turn to avoid a sudden drop down steep mountain slopes to forested valleys below.
Along the road, crumbling old markers may have at one time indicated distance or perhaps danger, now all that remains is cracked granite in vague obelisk-like shape. This part of the road follows the northern side of the mountain for an hour, ducking in and out of autumnal forests mostly devoid of leaves this late in the season, while the ground is strewn with fiery shades of red, orange and brown from their offerings. Eventually, the rain lightens up and the fog thins. Biatz, having gotten ahead of the caravan, waits on a nearby boulder as the wagons pass, quietly eating some trail rations and relaxing his feet. A droplet of rainwater falls from one ear, his head no longer sheltered from the rain by his hat; lost to the quake.
By the time the caravan passes, Biatz has gotten to his feet to follow at the rear. Up ahead, however, Karrn has spotted something on approach. Amidst the roots of twisting, leafless trees are the visible imprints of bones jutting up from the wet soil. The bones are old looking and large, not a person’s. Karrn recognizes the shape of the skull as that of a horse’s, with its distinctive jawbone and teeth. Nearby to the partly buried horse’s remains are other bones, these ones more humanoid in shape but cracked and split where they have protruded from the mud.
<< Aspodell Mountains, Balaavossk | Late Morning | Lamashan 31th, 4712 | Cool, Foggy, Light Rain | Free to Act: All >>
Karrn moves closer to the bones, baring his teeth. They might be old, sure, but they might also be fresh, and if whatever left them is still around, he fully intends to bite its throat out.
“Huh?” Lyniza again pokes her head out from the wagon, a curious look on her face. “Is everything alright? Why did we stop?” she calls out, sounding a bit worried. “If you’re alive up there, say ‘yes’, please!” Looking back in the alchemy wagon at Gideon and Kas, she shrugs.
“Am alive!” Karrn called back.
Okrin stands quitely near the wagon when they stop before taking a moment to rest his legs by sitting on a nearby rock. He also fills his waterskin with fresh, clean water by mumbling a quick incantation; In order to drink it, however, he has to unhook his faceplate. He does this when no one's looking, takes a long gulp from his waterskin, then quickly reattaches his faceplate and looks around to see where everyone is and what they're doing. He remains sitting until the group is ready to move on.
Gideon opens the side window of the alchemy wagon and leans out to look down the road, then settles back in. “He sounds fine,” the nobleman admits with some frustration at the delay. But what Gideon could not be aware of, and what Karrn is only just about to discover, is that the bones he’s concerned about are only a fraction of the things the mountain has to show them all.
The wind picks up for a moment, blowing down the road and buffeting up against the steep, forested slope to the caravan’s right side. The wind clears the fog some, enough to see further down the road and into the valley over the left side of the caravan. Karrn sees it first, up ahead, huge squarish shapes of darkness more than twenty feet high. Barely visible as man-made shapes, they soon come into clearer view as the fog parts. Two gigantic obelisks of granite rise from a natural cliff face where the road simply ends. Between these two obelisks is an enormous and ancient portcullis flanked by two ancient trees long since gray and dead.
The entire structure resembles a gate house, but one that partitions off the entire rest of the mountain trail, for the only way past here is to either climb along the sheer cliff face to the caravan’s left, or up the steep and loose rocky slope to their right.
The gatehouse looks foreboding, like an enormous, horned head in some fashion, with the portcullis its mouth. Were this the case, the next sight would be all the more grisly. Crunched beneath the portcullis is the remains of a wagon, brittle and ancient wood has all but entirely decayed, leaving the wagon’s metal framework and some old boxes strewn about nearby. Scrub grass grows up through the planks, and it looks as though the crushed wagon is holding those tall iron portcullis open enough for someone to squeeze inside the darkened gate house...
Karrn freezes, his hackles going up instantly. “Found dwarf-place!” he calls, tightening his grip on his sword. He continues to approach the gatehouse, however, his curiosity overriding his trepidation. At least for the moment. He begins inspecting the crushed wagon from a safe distance, trying to find the best spot to slip inside without knocking it and trapping himself at best, getting squished at worst.
Hearing Karrn, Okrin gets up from his rock and walks down towards Karrn and the gatehouse. Upon arriving, he examines the gate closely, but without touching it. "Hmm.. its made of badly rusted steel.. theres another portcullis on the other side. Sort of like sluice gates. Wonder if wecould slide in and find a mechanism to open it fully?"
As Okrin is examining the gate, he notices grooved tracks in the portion of the gateway that isn’t closed. This device seems to be some sort of complex machine. The portcullis is quite possibly lifted by gears of some kind, which would make forcing it open extremely difficult. Hopefully, if there is something to mechanically lift it inside, it still functions.
Satisfied enough that he could get through the gate without hitting the wagon, Karrn drops to all fours and begins to creep through the narrow opening. Once inside, he looks around. “Walker’s teeth...” he softly swears, looking over the stonework. This place is way out of his range of experience.
“Ooooh,” Lyniza says as she follows in behind Orkin, looking around a bit mystified. “Now this is interesting,” she notes as she moves to examine the gate herself. “I don’t know if there’s any other way to get it up, but that’s worth a shot. She watches Karrn for a moment, curiously. “Alright, well, I guess that’ll solve that, hopefully.”
Hustling up towards the back of the group, Aribessa draws down her hood as the approaches the gatehouse. “Gods below,” she whispers, looking up at the obelisk towers, then back down to the portcullis. “I-- Gideon wants us to find a way around. He and Biatz are sticking back to the wagon, in case there’s any trouble there.”
Looking at the portcullis, Aribessa approaches it and peers through the opening, squinting against the darkness. “What do you see?” She asks of the gnoll. What Karrn sees is the detritus of centuries of abandonment. Bones litter the floor, loosely held together by strips of time-weathered leather that is britly and flaky to the touch. Dwarves, dozens of them, all huddled by the collapsed gate, curled in fetal positions and some sprawled out in scattered piles of remains. Their gaping skeletal visages frozen in their final screams of whatever killed them.
To his right Karrn can see a passage that has collapsed under the weight of centuries, little more than a doorway stuffed with rock and earth debris. Opposite of that, a more servicable doorway into a darker chamber. The portcullis on the inside dominates this room, however. From the outside it looked like it might be of the same design as the exterior portcullis, but it unfortunately is not. While it does have a metal lattice exterior, that frame is welded over a solid piece of rusted iron at least two feet thick. There is no visible way to see beyond this gate, and the unfamiliar runic writing in Dwarven etched on its surface in a plaque tells him nothing either.
Deciding that if the gnoll can squeeze through the opening, Okrin can too, and joins Karrn on the other side of the portcullis. "Right, we need to find a way to open this thing.. looks like it might be lifted by gears. Shall we take a look around? Best not to mind the uh.. bones.."
Karrn moves a bit deeper into the room, stepping gingerly around the fallen bones. “Dwarves. Dead. Lots. Blocked gate.” He mutters sourly to himself in Gnoll, sniffing at the skeletons. “Is bad place.”
When Okrin slips in, he spots some of the boxes that were contained in the wagon that had spilled out when the portcullis came down and crushed it. Some of them are open, and there are gold coins scattered about on the stone floor on the side of the wagon he came in on. The other boxes and chests may likewise contain some of the dwarves’ possessions.
“I would really appreciated if someone threw down a sunrod or something,” Lyniza notes, face pressed up against the gate. “Because this is kinda unnerving, you know?” One hand reaches up, knocking on the gate bars. “Can we get this open too? Or I can blow them open. Take a pick.”
"Hey.. we might be able to scavenge a few things.. these Dwarves left some things behind, it seems." Upon hearing Lynzia asking for light, Okrin apologizes. "Oh, I'm so used to my darkvision.. I wasn't aware others might not have any light to see by. Let me get a torch lit." Taking a moment, Okrin snaps his fingers at the torch in his shield sconce, lighting it on fire, providing illumination for those without darkvision. "Let me just take a quick look at what we have here, then we can go find a way to open the gates. Can you squeeze in, now that you have light?"
“I think so,” Lynizia mutters regretfully as she gets low to the ground and squeezes under the nearly shut portcullis. Shuffling through loose stone debris and centuries of dust and dried leaves, the young alchemist looks nervous with the weight of that gigantic gate above her. Once on the other side, she exhales a sigh of relief and squints while looking around. On the other side of the portcullis, Kasimira and Aribessa watch on anxiously. Once Lynzia makes it in safely, Aribessa quickly slips under the gate and slides across the floor, rising up into a crouch with brows furrowed and posture tense.
Waiting on the other side of the gate, Kasimira tilts her chin up, looks around and asks, “Has anyone been savaged by the hungry dead?”
Karrn carefully heads towards the open door, ignoring the bones since they’ve not decided to rise up and attack. His hackles are definitely up, though, and he keeps a strong grip on his greatsword as he slowly pokes his head through the door, looking around.
Okrin attempts to avoid stepping on the skeletons as he heads over to the east gate to examine it in detail. Although assumed the mechanism to open it is inside somewhere, Okrin is interested in its construction, as well as how it works. When he hears Kasimira speak, he responds in a muffeled voice, "No.. they seem dead, not undead. It is a good thing as well. I don't like skeletons." While examining the gate, he uses his shield sconce, with lit torch inside, to provide the necessary light so he can see in full color - hopefully, the others can see well enough too.
Examining the gate, Okrin finds it to be solid and impervious to the abilities the group has at their disposal. "Bah, too solid to disable or break through.. for once, curse the engineering expertise of the Dwarves! Oh well. The seems to be a mechanism linked to a lever somewhere inside.. best we get to finding it. If its in any condition similar to this gate, it should work. I hope."
When Karrn searches beyond the entry hall, his feet disturb centuries of dust and mildew, paws crushing puffball spores collected in patches on the ground. The walls are spotted with black mold and moisture hangs in the air with a damp stink. Immediately to Karrn’s left upon entering the doorway, he can see a strange iron contraption. A large, slotted box fitted with a pair of beveled iron rods crusted with mold and hanging with spiderwebs that are speckled with the desiccated remnants of moths.
The chamber itself is devoid of furnishings, save for shattered scraps of wood that may have at one time been tables and chairs. Old wooden pegs bristle from the wall ahead of him, perhaps where weapons may have once hung. A doorway towards the back of the long room leads further into darkness, though the angular shapes of what look like blades can be made out against the flatness of the walls. Perhaps the racks in there aren’t emptied.
Karrn sticks his head back into the main entrance for a moment. “Found strange thing. Box with rods. Not want touch.” Then, curious about the room and leery of the mold and spores, he approaches the weapon racks while pulling his cloak over his nose. It’s a crude mask, but better than nothing, especially once he splashes some water onto it.
Creeping up behind Okrin, Lynizia takes a look at the huge pair of doors, marveling in wordless wonder at their size. Behind her, Aribessa helps Kasimira through the gap below the portcullis, and the red-haired witch quietly dusts herself off as she looks around the hall. “Macabre,” she notes, spotting the skeletal remains.
"Box of rods? What kind of rods? Might be a lever." Okrin turns around and promptly heads to where Karrn was, possibly leaving the others in the dark as he takes his torch with him. Heading into the room near Karrn, Okrin finds a pair of levers. A moldy diagram nearby explains how these levers control "some" of the gates - The first lever seems to be jammed part way below half. Considering this lever is supposed to operate "Gate One", Okrin decides to try and open it, despite its jammed condition.
The metal grinds noisily, so loud that the reverberations of whatever gears and chains operate the gate system seem to drown out all other sounds. Shrieking metal, groaning wood and grinding stone rumbles through the gate house. With that lever pulled, the gate that had been dropped on the wagon out front slowly rises into an open position. When it stops the gatehouse shakes, and debris falls from inside of the slot the gate receded into.
Covering her ears and looking distressed, Lynizia looks into the room with the gate controls with wide eyes. “Gods!” Her expression is one of disbelief and frustration. “Well, if there’s anyone around, they know we’re here now...”
Okrin cringes with the noise the gatehouse makes - He hopes that did not attract attention to anything that may have been inside. "Well, that was easy enough. Can someone start moving the wreckage out of the way? We shouldn't move our own wagon in here yet, but we can at least get that out of the way. Now.. lets try lever number two.."
When Okrin forces the other lever up, something unusual happens. The mechanism inside of the lever feels like it is broken at first, or perhaps teeth on a gear are missing or were broken off. After a couple of cranks it seems to catch on something. When it does, the other lever moves down in even position with the lever’s rise. The grinding noise happens again, and the exterior gate comes crashing down and smashes the already damaged and ancient wagon. This time, however, it demolishes the wagon and falls shut all the way, leaving the other lever up.
“Oops,” Okrin says, “Everyone ok over there? I didn’t smash anyone did I?”
From where Karrn stands, he could hear that grinding noise of doors moving somewhere else inside the gatehouse.
Karrn seems to shrink in his armor for a moment, wincing at the loud clanking and grinding. “Am hoping no predators in-” he begins, before the exterior gate smashes down. Startled, Karrn actually drops his greatsword, then scrambles to pick it up again. He looks around and sighs heavily as he walks back to Okrin, avoiding putting his back to the door he’d been about to explore. “Glad you not hunt with me,” Karrn remarks, “Scare everything. What happen?”
Lynizia quickly makes her way over to Okrin with Aribessa and Kasimira following in tow. “So-- you did that again, just to make sure they got the message, yes? No misconceptions, we’re here!” Furrowing her brows, Lynizia looks to the shut portcullis over her shoulder, then back to Okrin.
“We’re all fine, by the way,” Kasimira points out helpfully. “The wagon, however, has been killed.”
“Shut up,” Aribessa hisses, quickly looking back at Kasimira. Then, leaning a little towards Lynizia she murmurs, “did you hear that?” Karrn and Okrin did, but Lynizia seems oblivious to the noise, looking back at Aribessa with wide-eyed uncertainty. “It sounded like--”
A scraping sound emanates from the doorway at the far end of the control room. Into the light of Okrin’s shield sconce moves a humanoid shape clustered with shingle mushrooms, lichen and the decay of centuries. It appears wholly skeletal, little more that stout bones and a broad frame with wide shoulders and short legs. Remnants of leather armor cling to its decomposed body, and its arms end in ragged bone stumps with no hands to speak of. But there’s something about it, an iridescent sheen to the bones, that seems more than just the walking dead.
Lynizia lets out a yelp of fright on seeing the animated remains of the dwarf move into view, covering her mouth with one hand. Aribessa, having heard the sound seems ready to react, and hopefully Okrin and Karrn with her.
"What the -" Okrin turns around to see the - thing - shamble into the room. Seeing that Lyn is right behind him and in a vulnerable position, his first instinct is to move infront of her, which he does as she stands stunned and horrified.
The skeletal creature moves, jerking forward with the staccatto animation of a martionette. Its limbs move out of synch with one another and it stumbles, staggers and limps across the floor with its jagged, bony arm-stumps outstretched. The creature’s jaw swings open with a creak as it approaches Karrn and Okrin, and in the light of the shield-sconce they can see the bones reflect light like they were made of metal.
Karrn snarls, specks of frothy saliva flying from his jaws as he takes a short pounce forward and throws his full might into an overhead swing. The look on his face is rather startling, given how generally calm and friendly he usually is; right now, there’s a threat and it needs to die, and Karrn cares about literally nothing but that. His jagged blade whistles down and cleaves into the metallic bones, drawing sparks with its force. Karrn snarls again, obviously angry that he hasn’t taken it down in a single blow.
Seeing that the situation has rapidly deteriorated with the skeleton’s appearance, Aribessa reaches inside of her sleeve and withdraws one of the wedge-shaped throwing knives, turning it around to hold backhanded as she moves in to join the others. “This thing-- it isn’t undead. Some sort of arcane energy has animated the bones the way one would a golem or other construct! It’s... laced with metal, just like those rats!” Just like the wolves Okrin had fought on the mountain.
Kasimira moves in behind Lynizia and Aribessa, slipping into rank behind Karrn. “She’s right, these aren’t the living dead. Someone, or something made these. But... it doesn’t feel to me like they were made in a laboratory or on a workbench. It’s as if... they spontaneously found some semblance of locomotion. I can’t-- this is outside of my realm of expertise.”
Quickly having retrieved one of the flasks from her bag, Lynizia twists the top off and clutches it in her hand as she withdraws a small folder of powder from inside of her jacket. It is tipped into the vial, creating a violent chemical reaction that floods the air with a sharp, acrid stink. The vial begins to bubble and tremble in her hand, but she seems to be waiting for something.
Just as Lynizia seems ready to hurl her vial, out from the doorway lumbers another skeletal construct. This, too, made of dwarven bones somehow fused with metal plates, it drags the remains of its right arm behind it, tangled in a mess of shredded leather and demolished chainmail. Its one good arm has been fused with the molten remains of a longsword. It, like the other, seems remarkably slow and has difficulty moving.
The closest of the two lunges at Okrin with its jagged, handless forelimbs. One ragged piece of metal-plated bone knocks aside Okrin’s shield while the other jabs forward, punching into his chest and penetrating his armor partially. The creature’s jaws swing open again, soundlessly, revealing strips of metal fused to the sides of its teeth and up over the roof of its mouth, almost like how mold spreads on a stone wall.
Karrn roars, a rather bone-chilling, bestial sound, and hurls himself into a frenzy of attack. His fighting style isn’t fancy, it isn’t flashy; more than anything, its hallmark is the simple, direct brutality of an angry beast. His wide, arcing swing brings the blade inches above Okrin’s head as it swipes down into the skeleton’s side with a fresh rain of sparks. Almost before anyone has time to register the impact, Karrn yanks the blade free, pulls his cloak away from his face, and spins in to snap at the creature with teeth that probably now seem just a bit more alarming to the rest of the party. The skeleton’s jerky motion pulls it away at the last moment and Karrn’s jaws crash shut barely in front of its throat.
Reeling in pain from the wound, Okrin decides a different tactic - Taking a second to whisper a quick prayer to his goddess, Okrin summons up a small cloud of smoke to envelope himself and the two creatures, much like an octopus squirts ink to protect itself. The thick, choking smoke hampers attacks and visibility. Luckily for him, Okrin's used to such an environment.
Gnashing her teeth, Aribessa lashes out with her knife when she spots an opening from Karrn’s assault. The tiny blade clatters against the skeleton’s head, taking a chip out of it and causing it to turn its hollow eyes towards her as she withdraws from the strike. “These things, they’re... very resilient!”
Whirling her spear around, Kasimira squares her attention on the skeletal construct over Karrn’s swinging stance. With a sudden, lightning-quick thrust Kasimira lances the polearm over Karrn’s shoulder. Then, crouching down as she thrusts, the witch drives the wedge-shaped spearhead up under the skeleton’s jaw through the billowing haze of smoke. Leverage does the rest of the work as she twists the spear’s haft and snaps the constructs head clear off of its body and shatters three vertibrae with the force of the blow. Damaged as it is, the skeletal remains lose their cohesion and the entire construct collapses into a heap of disconnected bones and shredded leather armor.
“Not that resilient,” Kasimira notes, once more, helpfully.
Watching Kasimira dismember the first construct, Lynizia lets out a sharp, sudden breath of relief. She continues to hold the reactive vial in one hand, but between the roiling cloud of smoke and the proximity of her team-mates there’s no safe way to hurl an explosive in these confined quarters.
With its fused sword arm, the remaining creature swings wildly at Okrin, but the ashweaver’s shield blocks the blow with the resounding clash of metal on metal. The unnervingly animated dwarven bones stagger and jitter, teeth clattering together as it moves its head in odd, jerking motions.
Karrn focuses on the dim outline of the skeleton within the smoke cloud with a predator’s fixation. As he steps in to strike, he starts to seemingly-unknowingly mutter something quietly in Gnoll, much like back in the caves.
“Uah kana, uah thif...” Gritting his teeth, Karrn lashes out with another of his wide, brutal blows. It misses the creature, but something seems to twist around him and the blade cuts through the smoke like a solid object before blowing it away into wisps. Karrn is already following through with a lunging bite and it strikes true; his jaws close around the skeleton’s shoulder and crunch deeply into it, tearing chunks free as he pulls back.
"Hey.. what.. what happened to my smoke?" Slightly confused at what just happened, Okrin nevertheless continues fighting. He moves a few feet nearer to the remaining creature and brings his hammer down upon it - Similar to a hammer striking an anvil, thanks to the creature's metallic-like bones. Sparks fly, and a metallic clank echoes in the halls.
Stepping in behind Karrn, Aribessa steps to his side and thrusts her knife up towards the skeleton. The motion is sound, but the blade fits between the spacing of its ribs, harmlessly splitting chain links from demolished armor, but doing no actual damage to the creature. She makes a clicking sound with her tongue, eyes wide and clearly tense in the face of such an abomination.
Kasimira stays behind Karrn, using her longspear to keep harrying the construct. She holds her arms up over her head, then thrusts downward at the skeleton. This time the blade strikes into the skeleton’s open eye socket to little effect, shattering away part of the ocular ridge, but doing little appreciable damage. She withdraws the spear, watching the skeleton’s jerking movements with a mixture of fascination and wariness.
Cursing under her breath at the crowded corridor, Lynizia remains at a distance, watching the fight for an opportunity to attack. Unfortunately, she can’t close in to use her sickle, and she can’t risk setting Karrn or Okrin on fire to hurl a bomb.
In close as he is, Karrn finds himself the target of the animated bones’ directionless wrath. It swings wide with its sword arm, cutting a clear gash up across Karrn’s chest and across his snout, leaving a fresh streak of blood along the wall with its follow through. The creaking bones and jingling chain the only sounds the mockery of life makes as it relentlessly attacks.
Karrn yelps in pain at the slash across his snout. In response, his attacks only grow more furious. There’s no finesse here, just an animal determined to kill. His whirling blade crashes into the skeleton’s chest, shattering chunks of metal-infused ribs, even as his teeth close on its arm and scrape against the strange metal. Karrn spits to try and rid his mouth of the taste and merely roars again, apparently too far in the throes of combat to speak even Gnoll.
Grunting, Okrin steps around the skeleton into the doorway and winds back with his hammer. As he swings, the odd, jerking motions of the skeleton draw it away from his attack. The hammer swings wide, connecting just enough to click off of the dense bones, but inflicting no damage.
Likewise does Aribessa’s thrust with her knife inflict no harm. The blade comes in, clashing against bones, but all it does is leave a superficial scar up the skeleton’s metal-plated skull. “Gods damned things!” She shouts through clenched teeth.
“No worries,” Kasimira notes, bringing her longspear back before stepping in to the attack with a powerful thrust. The long haft sweeps past Karrn’s side as the spearhead impacts with the nose of the skeleton. It is forced backwards into Okrin who blocks the body with his shield. The force of the blow pushes the skeleton’s head back so far its neck shatters and the head rolls right over Okrin’s shoulders. At the sundering of its body, the bones collapse in an inanimate heap with the ringing report of chainmail collapsing with it.
“As I said, not that durable.” The redhead smiles, faintly, and taps the butt of her spear on the floor. “All around a good job, though.”
“I never knew you had that in you,” Lynizia says in a hushed tone of voice. Kasimira glances back at the alchemist and smirks.
“Neither did I.”
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As the dust settles from the fight, Lyniza crouches down to inspect one of the skeleton’s metal-woven bones. She experimentally knocks it against the wall, listening to the metallic clank of the report off of the stone. “Would someone like to kindly explain to me what these were?”
“Dwarves,” Aribessa helpfully notes, kicking a bone aside and looking at the dulled edge of her knife. Lynizia’s expression is somewhat mild at that joke. Keeping one of the bones, stowed away in her bag, Lynizia stands up and looks through the doorway Okrin stands in, brows raised in wordless query.
Beyond the threshold, Okrin can see a demolished iron-bound door trampled long ago to the floor. Inside of the small room is a stocked rack of dusty weapons draped with centuries of cobwebs. It is difficult for Okrin to discern the quality of the weapons from here, but he can make out the shapes of four tall halberds, a little over a half dozen battle axes and just as many iron shields. Around a corner, there is a doorway leading into another darkened room, the floor littered with smashed wooden furniture.
Karrn looks from side to side for any possible threat, breathing heavily. Flecks of saliva hang from his jaws, and in general he looks too battle-crazed to really talk much as he prowls into the next room, apparently in search of prey.
“Dwarves?” Lyniza repeats, sounding a bit incredulous as she quirks an eyebrow. “Well- I guess that’s technically correct.” Lips quirk side to side, hands on hips as she looks over towards Orkin, then to Karrn. “Smell somethin’, Karrn?” she asks cautiously, hoping there’s not about to be more when they turn a corner or some other similar peril.
"Hold up a minute.. Karrn and I were injured in that fight. I have just the thing.. provided Karrn isn't like our host.. and gets sizzled by positive energy." Okrin stows his hammer and grabs the holy symbol of Brigh hanging from his belt; the symbol is a small iron holy symbol picturing a bronze woman. He holds it up, mutters a prayer, and the symbol glows brightly for a second. Both his and Karrns' wounds close up, as Okrin channels positive energy throughout the group.
Karrn grunts his thanks in Gnoll as he heads into the next room, greatsword tightly in hand. “Prey never alone. Will be more,” he responds to Lyniza after a moment spent breathing deeply to calm down slightly.
“You know...” Lyniza trails off as she looks back towards the skeleton, before pulling back out the bone she had claimed. “I’m not entirely sure these are what they seem. I don’t think they’re undead,” she notes holding the bone out, before pulling out a magnifying device from her bag. “I think they’re like those ratfolk. Constructs, of a sort.” SHe lets out a bit of a huff, squinting her eyes. “Curiouser and curiouser.”
“Thanks,” Aribessa offers as she and Kasimira walk towards the small armory. Though she didn’t need the refreshing positive energy, that it was shared at all seems to enliven her spirits some. “We should be more careful from now on, those things don’t go down easily...”
“Just means hit harder. Will die fast then.” Karrn grunts.
“I wish it was that easy,” Lyniza remarks with a shake of her head. “I’m with ‘Bessa on this one.” Arms slack at her side and she rolls her neck. “I’d rather not get those things in my face again.”
Stepping through the doorway from the armory, Okrin eases into a much larger chamber deeper in the cliffside. Here he finds demolished furniture, upended tables and shattered bedframes hung with the diaphanous remains of sheets and blankets that have mouldered and decayed for hundreds of years. Through the monochromatic lens of his darkvision, he can see the shapes of toppled candlesticks, fallen bookshelves and armor racks. This looks like it may have been a barracks at one time.
Like the rest of this ruin, the floor is littered with bones and skeletal remains, some huddled together in corners of the room with their arms still draped over each other. It is a gruesome and somber scene, as if the group were disturbing some terrible crypt.
“I’m beginning to feel like I should enter every room with a bomb,” Lyn notes as she looks down at the various littered bones and remains. “I keep expecting them to just... coalesce into more of those things.”
"I definitely do not like the looks of this.. whatever killed these dwarves could be still around. Kas, are you able to detect any magic by chance? I did not prepare such a spell this morning myself.. we should be watching for any kind of magical auras or residue, in case some could be harmful." Okrin walks deeper in the room, being careful not to disturb anything. His fist is clenched in its spiked gauntlet, as if he's ready to smack anything that jumps out at him.
“Creatures, even animated ones, don’t radiate magic,” Kasimira opines from the relative safety of the rear of the group. “However, I can and do have such abilities. It, ah, works best with line of sight, however. These walls are a bit too thick to sense through I feel.” Glancing at one of the dusty walls overgrown with mold, Kasimira peers over Aribessa’s shoulder.
“So far,” Kas adds, “nothing glows.”
“Alright, keep an eye out for any kind of aura then, and yell if you detect any.” Looking around the room, Okrin spots a pair of chests partially buried in the debris. Being the curious sort he is, Okrin walks over to the one on the right, and quickly examines it. "Hmm.. wonder what we have in here."
As Okrin starts wiping dust off of the chest, the bones beside him rattle noisily and begins to rise up from their discorporate forms -- just like Lynizia feared -- into a vaguely humanoid shape of screaming skulls, twisted metal-woven bones and irregular anatomical choices. It thrusts forward with a blunt femer-bone arm, jabbing Okrin in his armored flank and successfully pushing him back a few inches, but doing little more than that.
In Okrin’s darkvision but out of the light for everyone else, another skeletal form slowly rises from a pile of bones, its jaws chattering and head welded somewhere at mid-chest level, arms bristling up from where a neck should be, legs jointed backwards.
“See! See! I told you!” Lyniza exclaims, eyes open as she sees the bones begin to form up into shapes vaguely resembling something not unlike herself or the others. “Damnit, why am I always right about the bad things? Why can’t it be the other way around for once?”
“Damnit,” Aribessa curses under her breath as she steps into the room, knife still held in one hand. Knowing how hard those things had hit before, she hurls the dagger through the air, just barely connecting to the side of the skeleton’s head before it clatters into the wall.
Karrn roars bestially as he charges at the nearest skeleton, preparing for a massive, foe-obliterating strike with his greatsword... and manages to smash the everloving bejeezus out of the wall as his blade whistles just over the dwarven skeleton’s head.
Ignoring Karrn and Aribessa, the skeleton that arose beside the chest lets out a scraping metal-on-metal shriek and swings its febur-club arm at Okrin, clattering against his shield with a resounding crash. The other mockery of life shambles forward towards Okrin with jerking movements, like a badly puppeteered marionette.
Stepping into the chamber around Aribessa, Kasimira forsakes closing the distance to fight with her spear. Instead, she tucks the haft under one arm and thrusts her hand out towards the closer of the two monstrosities, sending a dart of acid shooting out from her palm with a single, forceful arcane syllable. The acid dart misses the skeleton entirely, spattering against the wall with a frothing yellow sizzle.
Sidestepping one of the animated skeletons, Okrin raises his shield with one hand while clenching his other hand into an open fist. Blue energy can be seen accumulating into a small sphere in the palm of his gauntlet, which rotates erratically as he shoves it at the skeleton. Sadly, his aim is poor, and the energy dissipates slightly too soon, causing only minor damage to the creature.
Throwing her cloak open, Aribessa strides towards where Karrn and Okrin are engaged with the reanimated bones. Reaching into a bandolier of knives at her side, she draws out a wedge shaped blade that she grips on its T-bar handle, a triangular spike jutting forth from between her middle and ring finger.
Lyniza has about the same idea Aribessa once again; but rather than a bandolier of knives, she unhooks another sickle from her belt. This one, like the one before it, leaves her hand rather awkwardly as she heaves it through the air, sending it flying past it’s intended target, and leaving Lyn cursing about having to find it later.
Karrn hurls himself into a frenzy of attacks, and once again his greatsword smashes chunks of rock from the wall as he misjudges the skeleton’s jerky movement. A snap of his sharp fangs likewise finds no purchase, closing on scraps of cloth.
The reanimated bones continue to ignore Karrn’s sword-strikes, instead focusing on drumming its elongated forearm femur bones against Okrin’s shield in erratic and arrhythmic beat, trying to batter him into submission. The other pile of awkwardly animated bones finally gets close enough to strike, and its three arms sprouting up from its neck flail wildly, but its clawed hands find no purchase on the Ashweaver’s armor.
“For the love of--,” Kasimira grumbles as she strides over, whirling her longspear around as she closes in behind Karrn. Quickly, she thrusts the wedge-tipped spear past the gnoll warrior and finds the erratic movements of the reanimated bones too unpredictable to strike. “Stand still!”
Deciding to conserve his magical energy, Okrin decides to simply punch the creature with his spiked gauntlet - however, his aim is off, and he nearly hits Karrn instead. “Argh!”
Aribessa sees the skeleton moving towards her and steps in, slamming it in the chest with her punching dagger as hard as she can. The creature is knocked back against the wall, bones chipped and cracked around where her blade impacted. Exhaling a sharp breath, Aribessa stares the abomination down unflinchingly.
Karrn wrenches his sword free of the wall and swung it back at the skeleton, missing once again. With a feral scream of rage, the gnoll lunges forward and closes his teeth on the top of the skeleton’s head. Flakes of bone splinter away under his teeth, but he fails to get a good grip and his fangs skitter off.
With her back pressed to the wall, Lynizia moves around the melee, slipping behind Aribessa and quickly ducking into a doorway that exits the barracks into another pitch black room. As her booted feet move across the floor, she can hear the clatter and rattle of bones, the dry crunch of ancient leather, and then as she peers into the dark, hears the horrifying sound of a metal-on-metal shriek echo in the chamber, followed by the clattering snap of more bones collecting together to form reanimated attackers.
“Uuuh.... we might have a problem here, guys. A strategic retreat isn't out of the question, is it?” Lyniza inquires, voice shaking a bit as she backs up in the small rooms entrance, umping into Aribessa behind her. “Because that sounds like a pretty fantastic plan t’ me right now.”
One of the amalgamated bone heaps with three misshaped legs strides forward towards Lynizia and strikes at her with an elongated, three-jointed arm, smashing her across the bridge of the nose with the knuckle-bone of an ankle. Another lumbers into position, dragging itself on a serpentine column of rib bones that all clatter and clack like the multiple legs of a centipede. It rears up and strikes down with its head, but Lynizia’s recoiling footfalls pull her out of the way, and the skeleton’s metal-woven brow leaves cracks in the floor.
“Hold on!” Kasimira shouts, jabbing her spear around Karrn again, this time splintering the jaw clear off the skeleton that the gnoll is engaged with. Metallic teeth rain to the floor with the same tone of falling coins. Breathing in and out with fevered pace, Kasimira finally spies the three monstrosities that Aribessa battles in the other room, and her breath becomes a sharp gasp of disbelief.
Seeing how desperate the situation has become, Aribessa lets out a sharp whistle and then dives away from the skeleton she is fighting, tumbling directly in front of Okrin, rolling across her shoulder and between the legs of another skeleton before rising up behind it. The agile, dark-haired woman twists towards the creature she just moved past and drives her punching dagger into its spine, twisting the blade and shattering bone. “Damn these things!”
“You know what, never mind, I think we can do this!” Lyniza shouts, suddenly renewed in confidence, A vial dances between her fingers as she pulls it ou of her pouch, smiling as she hurls it through the air. While it no longer hits it’s mark, fire and heat still spills forth across the room, seeming to affect the strange skeleton constructs at least a bit.
Unfortunately for Lyniza, her moment of bravado leaves her more vulnerable than anticipated, allowing one of the skeletons to just absolutely tear into her. Her smile quickly fades, wincing as she stumbles back from the blow, finding herself beside Kas. “O-Okay... maybe that was a bad idea.
"Well, this has turned poorly!" Okrin yells as more skeletons show up near Lynzia. After she moves, Okrin moves in front of the door. He speaks a few words of power and gestures with his open hand, a flame appearing within it. At the culmination of his casting, he aims his outstretched palm at the door frame, letting a jet of flame out into the room that disappears as quickly as it appeared.
Karn spins between Okrin and the skeleton, letting his momentum fuel a greatsword swing at his earlier target. It misses horribly, as seems to be the trend, and Karrn curses rather viciously in Gnoll. Then, with a quick muttered pseudo-prayer asking for the Walker’s guidance, his teeth snap shut on the second skeleton’s throat, crunching mightily.
Even as Lynizia pulls out of the crowded room full of tortured skeletal remains, Okrin has come in to fill her place. The skeletal attackers surge towards the doorway, shrieking like the sounds of claws on metal. A flurry of mis-shaped bone appendages clash against Okrin’s shield, and finally his defenses are shattered as his shield is knocked aside and a bony limb crashes into the side of his head, splitting his brow and spilling blood into one of his eyes.
Behind him, the skeleton engaged with Karrn and Aribessa twists and contorts its body, backhanding Aribessa with a flailing, crooked arm. She recoils, yelping from the impact as a yellow-black bruise forms almost immediately on her cheek, weeping with blood.
Kasimira sees Karrn having moved aside and finds herself staring down the loping construct with femur bones for arms. She braces herself, then at the last minute leaps to the side, letting its lunging strike hit the floor. “We have to do something or we’re going to get killed here!”
She jams her spear ahead, but the weapon is swatted aside by the creature’s freakishly long forelimbs. Gasping and panting from exertion, Kasimira wipes her hair from her face, frantically looking about for something that she can press to her advantage.