Vors moves quickly to intercept the raging orc, and brings his halberd down hard at the warrior...
The orc falls under Vors' thunderous blow while the shaman lies unconscious at the feet of Pebbles and Hirda.
Vors wipes the gore and viscera from his face with the edge of his cloak, and takes a long moment to just catch his breath.
Then, after a few moments more, he catches sight of Cyrus and just starts silently weeping.
Ay, me Noln! I knew I'd see ya agin! Titania, thank ya dear for not lettin' him burn up.
Hirda plants a big smooch on Noln's cheek, leaving a smear of blood on his already filthy face. After a few moments of emotional reunion (by dwarven standards), Hirda's mind returns to reality. And the boy Cyrus, is 'e really gone? This beastie'll pay, more'n t'others! C'mon, we need t' get rope n' tie 'im up. Get 'im t' say what 'e's done wit' 'iggins n' the rest of 'em...Phoooo...I'm gonna need t' rest right soon.
Oy! 'irda! Ye be gettin' blood all over me!
He coughs roughly several times. He gestures with his manacled hands toward the orc warleader lying dead on the hill.
That big boss 'un, 'e had the keys, near as I could tell.
Perrin hurries over to the warleader's body and searches for the keys.
If successful, he unlocks Noln's manacles. "Do you know what happened to the others?"
As they speak, Pebbles approaches the remaining tents and peers inside.
You find the keys. You also find three bottles containing unknown liquids and you notice an amulet around the warleader's neck and 137 gp in his pockets. He of course also has a chain shirt, a sap, and a greataxe that appears to be well-made.
Pebbles glances briefly through the tents and sees various items of gear, piles of furs, and a small farm's worth of sacks of flour. He also finds a mule tied to a tree on the north side of the clump of tents. In one of the tents, he sees a small, makeshift desk of a board on some barrels that seems to have some papers scattered on it. He returns to you and communicates the results of his brief survey.
The freed dwarf rubs his wrists and moves his arms gingerly. He shakes his head mournfully.
No laddie... 'un of 'em big lummoxes crept up 'ahind me and whacked me head a good 'un. I ain't seen no one else 'ere asides filthy orcs.
Hirda goes back to get some rope off of her mule and proceeds to tie up the shaman.
I reckon we ourta make camp 'ere t'night, rest up n' bandage our wounds. We'll need t' get the flour back t' toon, n' Cyrus too, fer a proper burial.
"Oh, do you need healing? I think this wand still has some life in it. And how about you, Hirda, you're looking pretty scraped up."
Perrin ignores the weapons and armor but pockets the coins. He scoops up the bottles and amulet, pausing to examine them intently.
He then turns to the other orc bodies, checking for signs of life - or other items of interest. When he gets to the shaman he makes sure to take away any spell components he can find.
"Yeah, we should tie him up," Perrin agrees. "I didn't bring any rope, but I think..." He swallows. "I think Cyrus did."
At that, Pebbles returns from his search of the tents, rumbling about what he saw. "So the mule and flour are here," Perrin relays, "but no sign of Goodman Higgins." He glances around the unscorched parts of the clearing, searching for any other tracks leading away from the camp.
Finally, Pebbles gives another rumble and gestures toward one of the tents. "Oh, just a second." Perrin ducks into the tent and glances quickly over the papers strewn on the makeshift desk.
On his person:
- armored coat (ruined by axe blows)
- cold iron dagger
- heavy mace
- longbow
- backpack
- belt pouch
In his backpack:
- bedroll
- hemp rope (50 ft.)
- mess kit
- pot
- torch (10)
- trail rations (5)
- waterskin
In his belt pouch:
- flint and steel
- 30 gp
- creased and folded piece of paper
Assuming continued detecting of magic and spellcraft checking.
Potions: cure light wounds (2), enlarge person
Amulet: Natural armor +1
Chain shirt
Sap
Masterwork greataxe
Potion of cure moderate wounds
+1 red dragonhide breastplate
Masterwork club
spears (4)
holly and mistletoe
93 gp
Mwk chain shirt
kukri
longbow
20 arrows
masterwork longsword
heavy cloak
32 sp
Mwk chain shirt
kukri
longbow
20 arrows
masterwork longsword
heavy cloak
Small bracelet with red and green beads on it
18 sp
scale mail (4)
greataxe (4)
javelins (8)
Written in Orcish.
You find a number of tracks leading in multiple directions. Many lead down to a nearby stream. Many lead through the gap in the hills toward Brookside. You aren't able to distinguish any non-orcish footprints.
The dwarf grunts at Perrin's offer.
Nay laddy, I be ok. They knocked me cold but I been doin' nutttin' but sittin' like an 'en for days. Best thing fur me is to move me old bones.
He stares for a few moments at Cyrus' body.
'e always was a good lad and a good neighbor. Terrible trapper, though, retirin' when one fox looks at you funny.
Noln glances down and scratches Rally gratefully behind the ears.
But maybe 'e knew wut 'e was doin'.
Perrin frowns at the sight of the unfamiliar writing. He pulls a ragged scroll out of his cloak pocket and mutters a few words under his breath, turning back to the pages once more.
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Ukar the Deadly,
Your enemies' blood is joy. One of my warriors, may his ax break, failed notice to see the chain of my beast. The water air stole its strength and my beast broke in the night. The hunger of such never dies. She had eaten the old farmer, too weak to labor, but the hunger of such never dies. If your men take eyes on my beast, do not approach. Send me word by one of your animals. Your courier returns with my words. Your enemies' blood is joy.
Gornak the Strong
Gornak the Strong,
Your enemies' blood is joy. My message comes to you by this pony. Your words may return to me by the same beast. Too long chiefs fight chiefs. We of the west have no easy raiding of eastern coastal cities. Human lands of the west are too poor and the little wealth has many strong arms.
But may our axes strike together. One of my scouts found a rich trading post with many goods and few arms in human lands. Too far into human lands for one band. If our axes strike together, we take goods. Scout say human lands between here and post have few arms and some meat to serve and some meat to eat. Consider my pledge. Your enemies' blood is joy.
Ukar the Deadly
He seems to be describing some sort of animal courier spell.
Gornak the Strong,
Your enemies' blood is joy. Good to hear your response. My sobriety if this response meets you slowly. The frog was the only thing at hand. Our axes will strike together. We will head into human lands on the fourth shield between the Rock of Blood and the Oasis that Weeps. My scouts tell me woods and hills will meet us first, then a small human town of weak arms. Your enemies' blood is joy.
Ukar the Deadly
You found a few more scraps of paper on the chief's body but they were too distorted by cuts, sweat, blood, and the chief's body falling on them too read.
Vors does his best to help recover all of the items of value from the ground and pile them up for the group to survey.
Vors does his best to help recover all of the items of value from the ground and pile them up for the group to survey.
Phooo...I hain't fought so in many a year. Nor do I miss it. These orcs is much better equipped than the last I seen, tho' agin, twas many years ago.
Use this healing roll as needed, either to assist Perrin or by itself. Take as many uses from my healers kit as you need.
Now what say yall, where're we t' head? Back t' town to rest n' return these goods n' reap justice 'pon our captive? Or d'we head on t' see if there be more bands o' savages waitin' t' take advantage? Perrin, can ya make out ought o' their messages? An' Noln, me love, what say you? Be ya headed fer home, or will ya pick up a weapon wit' us?
Hirda, ye be knowin' me. If 'ere's sometin to be doin' I want to be doin' it.
But you notice that he can't quite stand up straight and hasn't been able to for a few years.
Perrin quickly copies down the writing in Common on the back of his scroll, then passes it around to the others. "Guys... take a look at this." He stands there, quietly, as though trying to take it all in.
If the others request healing, Perrin will do his best to help with their wounds.
312 gp
30 orc trail rations
2 light wagons.
3 mules, one of which you recognize as the Higgins'.
A crate containing 4 hens and 1 bedraggled rooster. You recognize the once-illustrious creature as the pride of Noln's henhouse.
A common cloth sack.
A waterproof bag.
4 barrels, two of which contain water.
3 buckets.
5 jugs of whiskey.
4 great axes.
3 sets of scale mail.
50 arrows.
3 longbows.
A chain shirt that appears finely-wrought.
400 pounds of wheat in cloth sacks, presumably belonging to the Higgins'.
Currently, the burning tent is just dying down but is too hot to poke around in.
While piling gear together and healing one another, you notice a slight rustling of grass and dirt, as of silent footsteps, coming from the north side of the farthest north tent. You catch a brief glimpse of a cloaked, humanoid figure moving stealthily on the other side of the tent.
Perrin quickly puts a finger to his lips and points over behind the northmost tent, gesturing frantically. Pebbles dives beneath the ground and glides toward the spot in question.
Pebbles senses a creature behind the northmost tent.
Vors is too busy strapping on his new armor to notice what Perrin is talking about.
A cloaked female form steps out from behind the tent. She carries a bow in one hand, but no arrow nocked.
"Easy! Friend!" she says.
Reaching up with the other hand to push back her hood, she reveals her face: it is Mel Elden. Her dark hair spills out from under the scarf she always wears.
Perrin expression slowly turns from panicked to relieved, albeit still pretty confused. "Hey, um... Mel, right? What are you doing here?"
"Saw the smoke," she says briefly. "Thought someone might need help."
She surveys the encampment and her eyes fall on Cyrus. "Oh!" she says. She purses her lips a bit and lowers her chin sadly. "Someone did."
The burning tent dies down and cools off while the sun is starting to get low in the sky. There's about two hours of daylight left.
"Yeah, he surely did. Sounds like we all will, soon, every one of us. Wish you could have gotten to us sooner, of course." The big fighter sighs, then looks about. "Well, let's make sure we've got everything onto the wagons before the sun sets completely. We get those mules hitched up, we can make it a little ways down the road. Mel, any chance you're good at covering tracks once we go?"
Vors will then start loading everything up to transport it to a new campsite.
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If ya'll've got whatcha want, I say we send the rest o' this swag back t' town on one o' th' wagons. Ceptin' one o' these jugs o' rotgut. (glug) Hhhhhaaachch! Barely fit t' drink, even by dwarf standards. Still, it'll ease my achin' bones. Mel, dear, why dontcha bed down 'ere wit' us t'night, and take th' goods t' town in th' mornin'? Judgin' by what young Perrin 'ere 'as found, we got more work t' do. That leaves one question: Whadda we do wit' Mr. Greeny 'ere?
"Think he's fit for justice in the town? Might be that we've got a room that could restrain him, but he'd have to be gagged the whole time. Otherwise, he's liable to summon more of them swarms and all that mess."
Pebbles helps the others load the miscellaneous goods into the wagons, while Perrin turns his attention to the shaman.
"Well, we've got to talk with him, right? To find out what happened to to all the people they took, and see what he knows about this Ukar guy."
You are about 3 miles from town. Given the difficulty of taking wagons through the woods, you could barely make it to town before dark if you left immediately. Or you could stay the night here. Whichever you choose.
"Is it wise to sleep here?" Mel asks. "They may have allies, or scouts who were away."
As the packing begins, Mel returns to the northernmost tent. She studies its contents a moment, brow furrowed. Then she gets a stick and pokes at an empty cloth sack lying atop some furs, attempting to lift it.
"Yeah, I kind of feel like we should head back."
You are able to lift a corner of the sack but not the entire thing with the stick. It seems to weigh about 25 pounds. It does not respond in any way to the manipulation of the stick other than how an abnormally heavy piece of cloth would respond.
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Since most of us can't see in the dark it would be unwise to stay encase more orcs come here in the night
"Odd," Mel says. She hauls the sack out of the tent and upends it.
The following tumbles out of the bag, which is a 2 by 4 foot rectangle when lying flat:
Four potion bottles
3 clubs that appear well made
A breastplate
Holly and mistletoe
20 days of orc trail rations
1 barrel of salted meat
112 gp
You dodge nimbly out of the way as the barrel clatters to the ground.
Everyone else hears a clattering sound in the northernmost tent. You see a startled Mel leap backwards through the tent opening. She appears unharmed.
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"Ah," she says. "Magic. It stores more than it should." She looks curiously at the now empty bag in her hand.
So be it, less 'ead t' town then. Mayaps we kin be o' some use there, set up defenses in case them other'n show up. Hirda takes another swig of orcish hooch and helps pile the loot onto the wagons. Speaking to her rooster: So 'at's where ya got off to, is it? Figgered it was th' foxes what gotcha. Glancing around after Rally. Beg yer pardon, maam. When it comes time to load up Cyrus' body, she mumbles some blessings under her breath.
You all load up everything from the camp onto the wagons, including the tattered body of Cyrus and the bound, unconscious orc, and head back to Brookside. It's a somewhat difficult slog through the woods but the mules keep pulling and pulling until you come back into town just as the sun is setting. A few villagers are moving about their homes before retiring for the evening and they spot you as you return. They begin crowding around the wagons and peppering you with questions, seeing your odd bounty and wounds. The commotion draws more members of the community out of their homes. When they spot the trussed orc lying in one of the wagons, the crowd of around 40 (nearly the entire population) erupts with questions and arguments. But at the sight of the body of Cyrus, they fall silent.
Mr. Nolton steps forward, holding his shabby hat in his hands.
He was a good man, that Cyrus. He told me to listen to me wife and stay safe while he went into danger. What happened?
Thomas looks up at you, ready to hear the worst.
Vors gives his wife and children crushing hugs when he sees them. His tears are gone for now, but he turns to Thomas and says, "Cyrus fought bravely against a small army of orcs. He's a hero, and should always be remembered as a hero. But memorials will have to come another day. The good doctor has more information on what appears to be awaiting us all too soon." He motions for Perrin to share the content of the letters in a helpful way for the people.
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