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Rolando shakes his head.
"Karrnathi regulars often used skeletons. Probably a Karrnathi Military expedition into the Mournlands. Possibly a legacy of the day of Mourning, in which case we may run into trouble. Otherwise, if we don't present ourselves as bandits or other threats, we should be fine. Let's go back to the others."
"Undead is evil. I don't know who these Karrnathi you speak of are, but if they use undead, I'm against them."
Gloria paused, then nodded her head.
"We should consult the others before acting though."
Gloria began making her way back to the rest of the group, continuing to make as little noise as possible.
Ry'klead cleans underneath the claws of his gauntlet, occasionally looking around as they wait for the scouting party to return. He quietly hums to himself, sounding like two people humming just a fraction out of sync.
As they return, from one of the speaking tubes comes "So, what was it?"
"Karrnathi according to Rolando. I see skeletal warriors. I don't trust them."
"Well if they aren't out to cause us grief, let's do the same for the undead," Ry'klead taps his chin, thinking for a few moments. "To bad we couldn't get a few for us. Skeletons are great workers, never complain, and many other benefits." The handsome aberration pauses for a few seconds. "Of course, they tend to have little to talk about." he adds with a shrug.
"Do we want to leave such a hazard there?" asks Alvar. [b]"And if they're still here from the day of Mouring perhaps they should be told of the end of the war."
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Rolando shrugs. "They are skeletons. If their controller fled, they would continue to do the last thing they were ordered to do. I doubt their controller is still here if they are from the day of Mourning. If they are Karrnathi regulars, then they are an expedition from Karrnath and we would be declaring war on Karrnath, which I cannot see ending well. If they are leftovers from the day of Mourning, I do not think they can be put to rest, but."
"I side with Alvar. This place can't be treated like it's a nation. It's survival. We treat them as a threat now on our terms or later on theirs."
Gloria shrugs.
"I'll do it either way, but I know which one sounds smarter to me."
"Well, let's have one of us give them the news that's the war is over. If they attack, then the rest show up to grind them into bone dust," Ry'klead says with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
Gloria chuckles.
"I like the sound of that plan. I almost hope we have to do the latter bit. Everyone else good with that?"
"Well, if no one objects, I'll go and give them the good news that the war is over. Who knows, it just might make their day," Ry'klead says with a grin.
"After all, standing here all this time, laying waste to the occasional bandit or explorer has to be awfully dull," the handsome aberration says with a quiet chuckle.
"Then we'll be ready to back you up. Perhaps a white flag of parley might help your approach" advises Alvar.
"That would probably be a good idea. Gives me an air of credibility, plus it might give them a moment of pause to let me explain my case," a smile slices across his all to beautiful features. Like the honey that baits a trap. "If I could perhaps borrow some with cloth. White is just not my color, too pure." He says with a chuckle.
Ry'klead's forest green eyes slide over to Gloria, the copper flecks catching the light. A grin appears upon his face.
"Perhaps our dear Gloria carries white, something pure as the dear warrior woman herself?" For just a moment there is a bedroom smile upon the alabaster skin of the aberration. It morphs to a smile caused by genuine mirth.
"I'm only joking with you my dear, no need to blush," Ry'klead's eyes twinkle with mirth. "I have the utmost respect for you. He says with a slight bow. "That, and you could probably tear off one of my arms and beat me to death with the bloody end," Ry'klead adds with a quite chuckle.
Alvar will get out and pull out a white shirt to use for a flag. "No need to see which limb Gloria will remove."
Ry'klead laughs at Alvar's comment as he unstrings his shortbow and ties the white shirt to it.
"There, now I look like an official peacemaker," Ry'klead golden sounding laughter is heard once more. There is the sound of his claws clicking together underlying his laughter. Which is quite the trick since his clawed fingers are holding the white flag.
"Well, I suppose I'll be off then. Off to storm the castle and be the hero once more, it is a terrible curse, but someone has to suffer it," he chuckles.
Blowing a kiss to the Quay spider (and in effect the rest of the party), he wiggles his human fingers good-bye. Turning and walking about 20 feet Ry'klead stops.
With a few quite words and twisting gestures he summons up his magic, creating a shield of force just in front of his skin. 'Better safe the stabbed,' the aberration thinks with a smirk that stretches wider than a mere human face.
Eloith takes a position by Rolando and slinks forward quietly, choosing his steps carefully.
At seeing Ry'klead, the sentry at the walls pulls his bow. But he hold it as he sees the white flag. "Identify yourself and your purpose."
Gloria followed behind, her hammer held tightly by her mighty grip. She carefully advanced in an attempt to make little noise. She was ready to fly into action at a moment's notice.
"Greetings, I am Ry'klaed Ghostson. My purpose?" Ry'klead taps his chin in thought. "Is currently guarding someone looking for their home. We happened to be passing by and noticed your encampment. My employer thought it would be prudent to mention to the soldiers of Karrnath that the war is over. The kingdoms have all signed peace treaties, so the kingdom's are trying out this era of peace." Ry'klead says with a nod.
"May I ask to whom I speak with?" the aberration waits a few painful seconds before his curiosity demands answers. "If you don't mind me asking, how long have you all been here?" Ry'klead asks.
"I am Corporal Everson." He seems unsure of your words. He turns inward to call up, "Sergeant, come here. We have somebody who claims the war is over."
Another skeleton comes up. He looks over Ry'klead. "Interesting words. What evidence do you have?"
"A pleasure to meet you Corporal Everson, " Ry'klead says with a plesant smile. The handsome aberratikn nods to the second skeleton. "Hmmm, well, I have my travel documents, that has the current year and month I renewed them. Other than that, not mu-..., oh wait, I have the work offer that has current date on it. I have then in my backpack, one moment."
Waiting for a "Go ahead" nod or the like, Ry'klead slowly takes off his backpack. He makes a point of not making any sudden movements or gestures. 'Being a pin cushion doesn't sound that fun, he thinks to himself.
"Oh, and the Lightning Rail Station is up and running. You'd have to follow the Grounding Stones there, buts its not horribly far." Ry'klead look between the two skeletons and grins. "You might want to wrap yourselves up a bit before you go though. Some people panic at the sight of skeletal warriors marching out of the Mournlands. The aberration smiles once more, clearly not bothered by the undead he was chatting with.
He seems unconvinced. "We are aware of the date. What evidence do you have of the war's end? Evidence that does not require us to abandon our post."
"Some further proof? Hmm, well, I'm not carrying anything like that. I can go ask my traveling companions if they have something that would provide more proof," Ry'klead says, rubbing his chin in thought with his armored claws. "If you want, Corporal Everson can escort me. My companions are waiting back at the split in the path incase I started screaming bloody murder." the aberration chuckles.
"One of them might have picked up paper from the Rail station," the sorcerer thinks out loud. "It usually has some news about the remaining kingdoms. Or something more concrete then that." the aberration says with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"We will not be separated by such a simple ruse. Gather your evidence and return. Call out as soon as you see our camp so that we know you are approaching." It's hard to read the expressions of somebody without a face, but there's a slight bit of hope in his voice.
"Alright, sounds like a plan to me, I shall return with evidence," Ry'klead says with a short bow. Turning with a snap of his steel grey cloak, the handsome aberration walks back down the path. "I'll be back." He starts whistling as he walks away.
Waving goodbye with his armor clawed hand, Ry'klead is swallowed back up the the Mournland mist.
Walking back towards his traveling companions, Ry'klead jumps in surprise. He was not expecting them to be so close, but certainly wasn't complaining about it. Had the parley gone sour, the humans and elf would be nice backup.
"Hello again, long time since we last met," Ry'klead smiles pleasantly when they reveal themselves. "Well, the soldiers are looking for some solid proof that the war is actually over. They have an idea of the date, just not the ending of the war. You think the explosion would have been noticed. I was staked to a wall in a dungeon when it went it happen, and I noticed it." He says with a shake of his head, strands of black hair falling across his face.
"Soooo, anybody have a paper or anything from the Rail station? Anything that would prove the war is over." the handsome aberration asks, looking at his companions.
Quay will call out through the speaking tube, "I've got a Korranberg Chronicle." Looking through the paper, It has an article about a renegotiated trade agreement between Karrnath, Aundair, and Thrane. It mentions that it was the biggest expansion of trade since the Treaty of Thronehold.
Gloria half-heartedly shrugs.
"I'm probably the last person who would have anything."
"Madam Quay, you are as wise as you are beautiful and intelligent," Ry'klead says with a bow towards the Spider Machine. He walks to retrieve the Korranberg Chronicle smiling pleasant at the hidden gnome.
Glancing through the paper, Ry'klead nods to himself as he flips through the paper.
"I think this will do the job rather nicely," the curious sorcerer folds the paper up. Looking over at Bertholdt he nods to the human. "I agree, being stuck in one place like that for, well, forever," a shudder runs down his spine. "No thanks, I'll pass way to boring."
"Alright, I'm off again, once more to be the noble ambassador spreading goodwill," Ry'klead says with a chuckle as he turns and walks back up the path.
Walking about 20 or so feet, he slows his long legged gait.
"Corporal! Sergeant! It's Ry'klead returning with your proof. I would prefer to not be shot down as I approach." he says with a grin.
Waiting a few moments, the aberration continues to walk forward, until the stronghold is within sight. He pauses looking at up at the corporal for a few moments.
"Quick question Corporal Everson, can you read without the flesh orbs?" the aberration points to his own green and copper flecked eyes. A grin finds it's way upon the strange humanoids face. "I'm not trying to be rude, I'm just curious."
You are not shot down as you approach.
"Yes, I can read without eyes. I can move without muscles either. It's all part of the magic." He will read not just that article, but the rest of the paper. "It does seem that hostilities are ended. Thank you."
He turns toward the inside of the palisade. He pauses and there is the sound of assembly within. "It is a joyful day! The war is over, and Karrnath is safe and prosperous! We have not been recalled after many years of service. I conclude that our service is no longer required.
There is the sound of crunching for a while, and then silence.
"Hmm, I was hoping for something a little more exciting, like soul vision or the like," Ry'klead muses tapping his chin with clawed fingers. He watches as the Sergeant turns and walks into the palisade.
Ry'klead waits for a few more moments in the silence after the sound of crumbling, looking around for some signs of movement.
"Hello? Anybody still unalive?" the aberration calls out looking at the palisade. Curious to see if they all feel to bits over the news, Ry'klead peeks inside.
There's no response to the call, but as the group enters, they see one skeleton still standing among the remains of the others. Apparently they beat themselves to death. He's looking down at them, shaking his head. His voice is still a little shocked. "I suppose I'm a deserter now. I just didn't see the point in ending it." His spear is leaned against the wall next to him, but he makes no effort to take it up.
Ry'klead looks around at the remains. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. 'What a waste,' the aberration thinks to himself. He looks to at the remaining soldier.
"Hello!" Ry'klead greets the survivor with a pleased smile. "It's a shame that the rest of your company decided to destroy themselves. I had guessed the lot of you where going to take the Lightning Rail back to Karrnath." the aberration says with a gesture towards the fallen bones. "I am glad you chose not to follow that last order. You get to see what the lands look after the war, an exciting choice. So much better than endlessly standing in the Mournland Mists." Ry'klead says, his tone upbeat.
The sorcerer thinks for a few moments, head cocked to the left. He certainly looks like he is listening to someone talk. Nodding to the unheard conversation.
"If your interested, I'm looking for another traveling companion. I'd be a complete fool to pass up a chance to have companion with your advantages. Honestly, if you have a taste for adventuring, you could charge a fair bit of coin for your services," Ry'klead nods to the skeleton. A large, pleasant smile grows on the handsome aberrations face as he looks at the skeletal soldier.
"My name is Ry'klead. What do you call yourself? the Half-Blood Dealkyr offers his human hand as he asks for the former soldier's name.
He thinks for a moment, looking you over carefully. After a moment he nods. "Priva... I guess it's just plain old Falko Taggert now." He'll shake your hands.
After that, he'll gather up his equipment. He's wearing studded leather, and he'll pick up a sword and spiked shield. A longbow and quiver go over his back. He'll collect a number of small potion skins from his dead allies. All are marked with a black skull in a white box. And from the leader he'll pick up a slim crystal wand. "Are any of you good with wands? This one's a curing wand for my type. Not so good on the living. It's what's kept us intact all these years. If not, I'll have to make do with the potions."
Beyond that, there's not much loot. About a dozen masterwork weapons. Various tools for maintaining the walls. Since undead camp light, that's all there is.
"Pleasure to met you Falko Taggert, Ry'klead smiles once more, shaking the skeletons hand. He introduces the rest of the traveling party, mentioning that two more wait outside. He doesn't mention the Quay spider. 'That out to get the nonexistent blood pumping,' he thinks to himself.
"Not to brag, but yes, I am a good shot with wands. The magical training helped out as well," the handsome aberration says with a seemingly humble air. This is slightly ruined by Ry'klead breathing on the claws of his unusual looking rusty colored gauntlet and buffing the claws on his shirt.
"Looting?" he says as if accused. "No, we follow regulations."
While rampant, looting was officially frowned on. Essential war material excepted. You also know that while they had contact with other units, all magic would have been sent to living troops.
"You mean you don't go both ways with magic?!" Ry'klead says with surprised look aimed at Rolando. "That sounds rather boring," the handsome aberration says with a shake of his head and a slight pout. "Thankfully, I don't have that problem," Ry'klead says with a short laugh.
"Well, let's wait outside Falko, I can introduce you to Madam Quay and Alvar," Ry'klead says, interest in the pavilion gone. The former soldier was a better find then whatever bits of leathery hide or sharpened metal that remained in the bone dust.
John Spalding
Rolando Emalinos Escados