"I hunt these beasts because they do things like this!" says Eitri pointing at the body of Tovar and staring at Root. "The money is only a means to an end. It allows me to buy things like food and better weapons, so I'm better equipped to fight monsters like the ones we just defeated. But if we allow these creatures to go unchecked they will commit more atrocities and kill more good men. I think I'll keep this, if you don't mind. I'm sure I can put it to better use than you."
With a belch and a hiccup Root turns on the Dwarf: "Beasts? I've seen what you greasy miners do to 'check' a threat. Besides, the only atrocity I saw tonight was that blob of lard flashing in the moonlight."
Muttering about where to find enough booze to 'drown the dwarves' Root pushes past Crystal.
"I hunt these beasts because they do things like this!" says Eitri pointing at the body of Tovar and staring at Root. "The money is only a means to an end. It allows me to buy things like food and better weapons, so I'm better equipped to fight monsters like the ones we just defeated. But if we allow these creatures to go unchecked they will commit more atrocities and kill more good men. I think I'll keep this, if you don't mind. I'm sure I can put it to better use than you."
"Aye, creatures like these are an abomination and an affront to dwarvenkind. This one deserved all that it got and then some." Borondon kicks the corpse for good measure then reaches down to examine the pouches.
"Whose he callin' a blob o' lard? Maybe next time I'll let them through, perhabs he'll appreciate us then."
Borondon kicks the corpse for good measure then reaches down to examine the pouches.
Borondon:
Muttering about where to find enough booze to 'drown the dwarves' Root pushes past Crystal.
Root sees the Vagabond wagons fully up and aware. It is almost dawn, and the light is greying up. He is not sure, but he thinks he sees his conversation buddy Serrano GazGorno tending the campfire with a few others.
Is there some sort of Bardic skill to allow one to 'muse' over events? I would gladly roll some numbers, but am unsure with what modifiers. I still think it odd that the guard has passed. I do wonder where in the tumultuous battle the incident happened. Also, should I post less? Am I putting too much into these replies? Comments? thoughts? Ideas?
Root sees the Vagabond wagons fully up and aware. It is almost dawn, and the light is greying up. He is not sure, but he thinks he sees his conversation buddy Serrano GazGorno tending the campfire with a few others.
Root veers directly towards the campfire of Serrano to inquire about their health and to investigate early morning drinking.
As Crystal resumes her station on Arianna's carriage roof, her mind drifts back as she thinks about all the tales and stories she's heard tell about the fair land that its people call Garonan,
Bardic Knowledge Check:1d20+1->[19,1]=(20)
In an attempt to try and begin pulling pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. A puzzle that she is not even sure may exist.
While she lays awake in the gathering dawn light and muses, Crystal again hums a soft lullaby to help calm the nerves of her closeted freind.
She makes herself as comfortable as possible in her 'light' chain mail armor, morning smell and comfort be damned.
Divel finishes up collecting his arrows and helps strip the orc bodies of other valuables.
Bardic Knowledge Check:1d20+1->[19,1]=(20) In an attempt to try and begin pulling pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. A puzzle that she is not even sure may exist.
The Garonans have a complex system of nobility, but a weak king. The major nobles vie for power, often going to war with each other. They have a web of marital-inspired alliances.
Crystal hasn't heard of House Chasegate, Arianna's family's fief, but they most likely are a vassal or cadet branch of one of the larger noble houses.
Crystal has heard of Lord Vladomir Tallifer of House Lumberton. Satires are sung about this corpulent noble up and down the Dark Ridge Mountains. Lumberton is a frontier town, and Lord Tallifer's word is law. His grandfather founded the town over the objections of the Great Forest's denizens, and a brief war was fought, which ended in the Treaty of the Trees 60 years ago. Lumberton has grown rich over the years as the gateway to the Tharkad Pass, and also in minerals and lumber. Lord Tallifer is known as a greedy noble, ever scheming to put gold coins in his own coffer. He is not well regarded by the Silver Elves of the Great Forest, and the dislike is mutual.
Knowing how rich Lord Tallifer is, and knowing how pretty Arianna is, Crystal can surmise that she is being used as a tempting piece of bait in an alliance match to bring the wealth of House Lumberton into the orbit of some ducal court.
Root veers directly towards the campfire of Serrano to inquire about their health and to investigate early morning drinking.
His friend Serrano is cooking up some breakfast in a skillet. The smell of fresh Garonan sausages fill the air. A few of the Vagabonds sport fresh dressings, pointing to recent wounds. Despite this, the air seems merry at the wagon. As Rootabega walks up, Serrano stands and claps him on the back.
"Friend Rootabega! Thank Desna the orcs didn't get you! I vas vorried, you vere fighting that big thing dere vith the bat wings?"
A tiny wizened woman in a rainbow-hued peasant skirt who took over cooking the sausages as Serrano rose to greet Root spits into the fire and makes the sign of the evil eye.
"Debil beasts on de rize, de dark forzez coome frum dat Dvarffish hellhoole in de mountains," She mutters in a thick accent.
Serrano glances back at the fire
"Hush Aunt Ferralia, now is not de time."
The old woman gives an audible 'FEH!' and returns to her sausages.
Divel finishes up collecting his arrows and helps strip the orc bodies of other valuables.
The orcs look fairly hale and hearty, except of course they are now dead. They are all face painted in the likeness of a skull, much as the orcs that the party encountered while delving the Silent Halls. This is the orc tribe known as the Death Heads. Their two tusks are carved in intricate patterns of disturbing runes and pictograms, with a distinct skull motif.
Their pouches average 10 GP apiece in various coins, most Tharkadian in origin, but with a sprinkling of Garonan as well. Divel remembers seeing a bounty of 50GP per Death Head tusk set brought to Stoneroot.
Their armor is mostly piecework leather with bits of salvaged metal glommed on to protect their tender spots. Their arrows are cruel black shafts with spiked steel heads and fletched with eagle feathers. Their falchions are crude wrought iron and their bows are laminated horn, quite effective ranged weapons for orcs.
"Aye thats a good job there M'Lady...but I think I can help further.."
Lady Arinna smiles at Sondergang
"Thank you noble dwarf!"
With the morning sun peeking over the trees of the horizon. Crystal rises, yawns and stretches the kinks from her frame, as her nose wrinkles catching her own scent after the exertions from the previous evening. She sighs, deftly climbs down from her perch so as to disturb the hopefully sleeping occupants as little as possible and goes in search of the women to whom she entrusted the cleaning of her other clothes to.
Once she's had time for a quick bath and changed into her fresh linens, again depositing her battle stained apparel and a small amount of coin in return, she goes in search of her adventuring companions and breakfast.
Sondergang watches the sunrise as he draws a minature hammer from his pouch and makes ritual smithing movements to honour his God..his mind fills with the power of Torag.
His spells replenished he goes looking for breakfast noting that Crystal has risen from her place atop the carriage.
Walking out from the wagon where she has been washing the nights exertions from her body and changing into fresh cloths, Crystal notes the good Dwarf that most of the rest of the group seem to look up to as the nominal 'leader'. She searches her memory as he draws closer and she finishes rubbing her wet hair down with a linen towel,
"Good day, master Wulfsson!" She greets him with a smile, "Again, I thank you for your healing from that wicked barb." She finishes her drying, handing back the towel to the maids and walks besides the Dwarf as she begins the long task of combing out her hair. She sighs,
"I do now think I was rash in throwing myself at the behemoth." Sondergang can see a troubled frown marring the tall elvish woman's' features. "Had I not been so brash, perhaps the Lady Arianna's guard might still be with us." She muses, her voice fading as her thoughts turn introspective. She shakes her self from her fugue and looks to Sondergang, leaning closer,
"I fear the fine lady's life may be heading in a direction some what dire." Her face clouds, "While I am not the one who likes to spread gossip, I fear her future with her planned betrothed will not be in her best interest." She stands straighter as they come to the breakfast cook fire, smiling to Ingrahild Hammastrum as Crystal stretches and breaths deep the wonderful aroma of the meal the other woman is preparing.
"Mmmmm, that indeed smells divine." And on cue Crystals midriff also adds a sound comment of appreciation, which brings a blush to Crystal's cheeks, abashed that her stomach could be so uncouth.
Borondon tosses the two unpleasant pouches aside and gives the third to Ingra.
"You should hold onto this."
His friend Serrano is cooking up some breakfast in a skillet. The smell of fresh Garonan sausages fill the air. A few of the Vagabonds sport fresh dressings, pointing to recent wounds. Despite this, the air seems merry at the wagon. As Rootabega walks up, Serrano stands and claps him on the back."Friend Rootabega! Thank Desna the orcs didn't get you! I vas vorried, you vere fighting that big thing dere vith the bat wings?"
A tiny wizened woman in a rainbow-hued peasant skirt who took over cooking the sausages as Serrano rose to greet Root spits into the fire and makes the sign of the evil eye.
"Debil beasts on de rize, de dark forzez coome frum dat Dvarffish hellhoole in de mountains," She mutters in a thick accent.
Serrano glances back at the fire
"Hush Aunt Ferralia, now is not de time."
The old woman gives an audible 'FEH!' and returns to her sausages.
"Hrrmm. I know, we have several of the 'debil beasts' in this party alone. Root looks up from the tempting sausages: "Unless, you mean? ...
oh...oh...oh my". Root falls off of his stool and rolls on the ground laughing. His howls, snorts and crows of laughter seem never to end. After all doubt as to his sanity has been put to rest, his laughter finally comes to a stop, only because he rolled into the fire and lit his unkempt hair ablaze.Tears still streaming from his eyes he leaps to catch the tray of sausages before it overturns, exchanging a scalded hand for breakfast.
"Haaah haaa haa, oh my indeed. So the orcs and assorted windged beasts are flocking from a nearby dwarven ruin? I, ah misunderstood - thought your dislike for the LFR's was a touch overdone, Serra."
Root looks over to Serrano: "Actually, I mostly hid under the wagon. But listen, your Aunt's story has piqued my curiosity, with your permission, I'd like to hear more?"
Selecting a goodberry from a belt pouch, Root holds up an empty glass and c@cks his head to Serrano while waggling the glass suggestively.
Thank-you Borondon, I'll see they find good use, first for our adventure, then for the good baron's taxes.
Navorn, went to bed after the fight, he was tired all that fighting and all. The next day he gets up early and goes around the camp collecting tales of the fight, always best to know a story from all angles he thinks to himself
Divel quietly collects ears in the morning, and puts them all in a sack. He tries to make sure he has an even number at the end. Then he hangs the sack off the wagon cart he is riding.
Walking out from the wagon where she has been washing the nights exertions from her body and changing into fresh cloths, Crystal notes the good Dwarf that most of the rest of the group seem to look up to as the nominal 'leader'. She searches her memory as he draws closer and she finishes rubbing her wet hair down with a linen towel,
"Good day, master Wulfsson!" She greets him with a smile, "Again, I thank you for your healing from that wicked barb." She finishes her drying, handing back the towel to the maids and walks besides the Dwarf as she begins the long task of combing out her hair. She sighs,
"I do now think I was rash in throwing myself at the behemoth." Sondergang can see a troubled frown marring the tall elvish woman's' features. "Had I not been so brash, perhaps the Lady Arianna's guard might still be with us." She muses, her voice fading as her thoughts turn introspective. She shakes her self from her fugue and looks to Sondergang, leaning closer,
"I fear the fine lady's life may be heading in a direction some what dire." Her face clouds, "While I am not the one who likes to spread gossip, I fear her future with her planned betrothed will not be in her best interest." She stands straighter as they come to the breakfast cook fire, smiling to Ingrahild Hammastrum as Crystal stretches and breaths deep the wonderful aroma of the meal the other woman is preparing.
"Mmmmm, that indeed smells divine." And on cue Crystals midriff also adds a sound comment of appreciation, which brings a blush to Crystal's cheeks, abashed that her stomach could be so uncouth.
Sondergang listens to Crystals musings on the battle and the Lady in the carriage.
"Nay Lass..it was his time...and naught ye could have done would have changed that... I do agree you take risks beyond those expected of you..but then..he either fears his fate to much or his desserts are small who dares not put it to the touch to gain or lose it all"
"What off the lady...is there aught concerns thee about her intended..do you know for certain she is in peril?"
he laughs at crystal embarrassment..."Nay don't thee blush so..Ingra's cooking makes many a belly growl..and theres no shame in being hungry"
Sondergang listens to Crystals musings on the battle and the Lady in the carriage.
"Nay Lass..it was his time...and naught ye could have done would have changed that... I do agree you take risks beyond those expected of you..but then..he either fears his fate to much or his desserts are small who dares not put it to the touch to gain or lose it all"
"What of the lady...is there aught concerns thee about her intended..do you know for certain she is in peril?"
he laughs at crystal embarrassment..."Nay don't thee blush so..Ingra's cooking makes many a belly growl..and there's no shame in being hungry"
Crystal recovers her composure swiftly and enjoys Ingrahild's cooking with gusto. After cleaning her plate and then helping a little with the washing and clearing away after breakfast, she grins apologetically to Wulfsson,
"I thought it impolite to talk while enjoying Ingrahild's cooking." She explains as they walk back to the wagon Wulfsson has chosen a his 'ride' for the day.
"Well, t'is nothing certain, but the man she goes to meet has a well rounded reputation that even with an avalanche of benefits does nothing to make sound sweeter." She frowns, looking to the ladies carriage. "The poor innocent is being marched off and bartered more like some prize horse than a person." She finishes with a scowl.
"Well, sorry I am that I can give you nothing with more substance," She shrugs, "I suppose there is naught at present more we can do but watch." She smiles, clasps Wulssons' hand in a brief and friendly shake before scampering off to spend her day riding upon the Ladies carriage.
Root looks over to Serrano: "Actually, I mostly hid under the wagon. But listen, your Aunt's story has piqued my curiosity, with your permission, I'd like to hear more?"
Serrano shrugs, a complicated Gallic thing, and smiles ruefully.
"My aunt, she always talk about the Silent Halls. They alvays have the taint of evil about them, no? Ve Vagabonds have travelled these passes since the dvarves still lived there centuries ago. Ve have seen many evil things come from under the mountain."
Serrano makes a sign to ward off the evil eye
"Though I myself have never seen such as that vinged beast before!"
He looks at Root.
"By all means talk to Aunt Ferralia. Just be respectful, she has the power to make a man's meat go limp!"
Serrano laughs and waggles a sausage suggestively.
Merzhan joins the priests of Sarenrae in their morning exhultations, his call to the goddess ringing through the area and carrying a note of victory in his strong voice.
The Sarenrae priests and priestesses are busy tending the wounds of the caravaneers, but they do stop for a morning prayer service to welcome the Dawnflower back to the world. Cinda walks up to Merzhan after the service, her robes spotted in blood.
"Thank the mercy of the Dawnflower you are all right! Are you wounded?"
Divel quietly collects ears in the morning, and puts them all in a sack. He tries to make sure he has an even number at the end. Then he hangs the sack off the wagon cart he is riding.
Divel quietly collects tusks in the morning, and puts them all in a sack. He tries to make sure he has an even number at the end. Then he hangs the sack off the wagon cart he is riding.
As the dawn breaks, and the air warms, the caravan slowly recovers from the raid. Slain friends are buried, slain foes are burnt. The immense carcass of the winged ogre is left in place, covered in oil and put to the torch .
Crystal alights on top of the wagon after performing her morning ablutions. The two guards left seem to have accepted her presence at the carraige, and make no further comment. She sings a bit, and is surprised when a beautiful ethereal voice joins her. Lady Arianna seems to have been trained in choiristry at some point in her life.
The caravan master Mott stops by and thanks the group profusely for their services.
"I am glad I hired you lot to come along. Who could have guessed we would be attacked by such abominations! 'Tis dark times all over."
The caravan lurches into action, slowly climbing towards the snow-cloaked mountaintops.
Hearing the wondrous tones that are the fine Lady Arianna's voice, Crystal changes the tunes that she sings. The better to allow her music companion the chance to join.
As the carriage makes its way along the track,Crystal again does her best to spread hr thick blanket across its roof and lay flat. Though often lifting herself up to survey the surrounding country side. She ponders if it is not too late to lay claim to one of the Orcish bows and some more 'civilized' arrows, the better to protect her young friend.
Perception Check:1d20+6->[19,6]=(25)
In the morning, Borondon first approaches Crystal.
"My lady, that was a fine performance you showed with your blades yesterday against that foul winged creature. Very impressive."
Later he approaches Root, with the other two foul-smelling pouches.
"Good elf, that "beast" we slew was carrying these items. You might find them interesting." He drops the pouches at the elf druid's feet.
|
Merzhan joins the priests of Sarenrae in their morning exhultations, his call to the goddess ringing through the area and carrying a note of victory in his strong voice.The Sarenrae priests and priestesses are busy tending the wounds of the caravaneers, but they do stop for a morning prayer service to welcome the Dawnflower back to the world. Cinda walks up to Merzhan after the service, her robes spotted in blood.
"Thank the mercy of the Dawnflower you are all right! Are you wounded?"
"A little," Merzhan says looking at the partially closed arrow wounds. "The worst of it has been dealt with, but not completely."
Despite his obvious discomfort, he flashes her a dazzling smile. "If one must bleed upon the ground, better it be in the defense of others"
In the morning, Borondon first approaches Crystal.
"My lady, that was a fine performance you showed with your blades yesterday against that foul winged creature. Very impressive."
Crystal blushes slightly at the Dwarf's compliments. She gives a quick, demure, bob of a curtsy in thanks as a reply as they hurry about getting the wagons ready to move.
The words from her traveling companions do make the actions of the previous night seem better. SO it is with high spirits she joins the Lady Arianna's carriage.
The two large crude leather beltpuches fall at Root's feet. A miasmic smell of badly-cured leather and spoiled pork issue from them.
"A little," Merzhan says looking at the partially closed arrow wounds. "The worst of it has been dealt with, but not completely."
Despite his obvious discomfort, he flashes her a dazzling smile. "If one must bleed upon the ground, better it be in the defense of others"
Cinda tuts and casts a healing spell over Merzhan:
She dresses the wounds in clean bandages and gets him some of the flatbread and chicken stew she and her companions were sharing.
"Good elf, that "beast" we slew was carrying these items. You might find them interesting." He drops the pouches at the elf druid's feet.
"Yeah, yeah" responds an impatient Root, tucking the pouches under his arm.
"Listen Dwarf, this lady was about to tell us about a dwarven hellhole infested with demons in the area, do you know anything about this place?If you do, share your knowledge, if you don't stay and listen."
"Yeah, yeah" responds an impatient Root, tucking the pouches under his arm.
"Listen Dwarf, this lady was about to tell us about a dwarven hellhole infested with demons in the area, do you know anything about this place?
If you do, share your knowledge, if you don't stay and listen."
"If yer referring to Tharkad-Kûl, then yeah, I been there, my companions too. It's the former home of my ancestors. We didn't encounter no demons that I remember, but we fought plenty of other monstrosities: undead, kobolds and whatnot. I know a bit about its history, but I reckon Sondergang knows much more."
"I will stay and listen anyway."
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"A little," Merzhan says looking at the partially closed arrow wounds. "The worst of it has been dealt with, but not completely."
Despite his obvious discomfort, he flashes her a dazzling smile. "If one must bleed upon the ground, better it be in the defense of others"
Cinda tuts and casts a healing spell over Merzhan:
She dresses the wounds in clean bandages and gets him some of the flatbread and chicken stew she and her companions were sharing.
"Your kindness and skill are exceeded only by your beauty and devotion. The Dawnflower has indeed chosen well"
Merzhan enjoys the meal
"I will stay and listen anyway."
Borondon and Root sit at the Vagabond campfire as Aunt Ferralia speaks
"De dvarfs dey vere greedy, dey dug zo deep in de ground they came to Hell. Dey uncovered de mouth to Hell, and set free de dybbuks und debbils dat plague us today. I feel dem now, dey sit unter de rocks und stones up dose valleys dere."
She points an arthritic hand to the valley mouths leading towards the grim flank of Tharkad.
"Dey bide der time like spiders, waiting for us."
"Yeah, yeah" responds an impatient Root, tucking the pouches under his arm.
As Root sits and listens to the old Vagabond woman talk, the smell of the two leather bags he tucked under his arm begins to assault his nose. The best description would be a corpse basted in urine
Sondergang sets up for the day in the same wagon as before
After a hurried breakfast and some repairs and funerals, the caravan makes its way up the mountain pass. The air is colder here, Spring has not yet come to the higher valleys yet. The day is fair, and the passage goes quickly despite the bite in the wind.
After a long day of travel, the caravan is approaching what looks to be a regular stopping point. A circle of flattened earth with a mounded dirt rampart studded with rocks sits at the side of the road. The party notes a smell of woodsmoke. As they approach, Mott calls a halt just before getting to the circle. Wisps of faint smoke can be discerned coming from the rude enclosure.
...
*bracket*dice*bracket* 1d20 *bracket*/dice*bracket*
"I will stay and listen anyway."Borondon and Root sit at the Vagabond campfire as Aunt Ferralia speaks
"De dvarfs dey vere greedy, dey dug zo deep in de ground they came to Hell. Dey uncovered de mouth to Hell, and set free de dybbuks und debbils dat plague us today. I feel dem now, dey sit unter de rocks und stones up dose valleys dere."
She points an arthritic hand to the valley mouths leading towards the grim flank of Tharkad.
"Dey bide der time like spiders, waiting for us."
Borondon shakes his head and walks away "Always the dwarves' fault." he mutters. He takes his spot on the wagon next to Sondergang.
When the caravan stops Borondon says to Sondergang: "I don't like the looks o' this." He draws his axe and gets off the wagon.
Divel slides off his wagon, loads the lovely new bow with an orcish arrow and moves up into the woods towards the smoke.
"I'll go."
As the wagons, carts and carriages come to a halt Crystal quietly reassures the Lady in the carriage beneath her, then stand tall and proud upon the roof, using it's vantage point to scan the surrounding country side.
Perception check;
Perception
Borondon:
Perception
Crystal:
Percption
Divel:
PerceptionCrystal:Spoiler:From her vantage point Crystal's sharp eyes pick out a wrack of some sort of scuffle. Dark forms are scattered about the stopping area.
Through narrowed eyes Cristal makes out something happening upon the raised tor.
Will Save:
Quickly coming to a 'conclusion', she calls down to the carriage and its occupants,
"Wait here and be on guard, something unpleasant is afoot beyond and there maybe other things to our flanks!' Then she dexterously alights from the carriage and runs towards the scuffle. Calling to her companions, who she can also see alighting from their wagons,
"Come! I see signs of a struggle! We should make haste to their aid!"
She draws her Elven curve blade as she runs towards the slope. Ever mindful that the tactics that he companions used to defend the agons last night may indeed be the same tricks who ever is before her could use to defend themselves from her head long rush.
Hawking, scratching, stretching, then gagging; another new day for Rootabega Flanus.
just what is that stench? i'll be changing my name to 'Rot' if I don't get a bath soon
"Hey, is there breakfast, I'll puke if I have to choke down another vilebeeeeeeeerry"
Root, forgetting he had been exiled to the top rear of a baggage cart because of the exciting new smell, topples over backwards and off the side of the cart.
"Ouch."