Wulfrum laughs a bit and shakes his head. He points to the apron he wears as part of his heritage and his religion. "It's all about the seasonings." he said shaking his head. "Bah, I know you're ticklish, it's how I got you ta tell me what little truth you were hiding from me as a child" he said chuckling as he rubbed his belly. He began to think about his stomach, had it grown in the last five years? Had he gained weight, he frowned thinking about it.
Varin laughed and pushed Arlan towards Lys. "There now, that is a nice idea. A dance, sounds just right to bring old friends back together!" He leans back against the counter and plants an arm resting casually on Wulfrums shoulder. "I'm too tall and bleeding awkward for a knees up but you two have fun!"
Wulfrum raised a brow at Varin when he said that, he wasn't overly sure who he was talking to when he mentioned the second bit. "Lad, that better not be you trying ta ask me ta dance...you know there's only one dance I do and it ain't for present company." he said grabbing his pipe and taking a long tug on it.
Arching an eyebrow and pulling back slightly to stare at the Dwarf, Varin laughed softly. "No. I was talking to Arlan and Lys ya loony old boulder brain!" He laughed, patting Wulfrum on the back. "Whatever were you eluding to, father dearest?" The look of fake innocence is clear on Varins face before he begins to laugh.
Idiot.
Elize passes away the flagon, which Rabus hides behind the counter. "Tell you what. I haven't been there in three years, and it's all behind us. Dance? Just try not to kick me in the shins." Standing up, she extends her hand to Arlan, saying with a smile, "It's a one-time offer, so think quickly!"
No need to think, I'm not much good at it anyway. Here we go!
Arlan takes Lys' hand and tries to follow her lead. His lack of skill is masked a bit by his genuine enthusiasm.
Wulfrum shook his head and gave the boy a look. "I wouldn't put it past ya lad to try and embarrass me out there by getting on ye knees or picking me and trying to sweep me off me feet with a twirl on the dance floor." he said somewhat matter of factly. He held out the pipe towards Varin and watched the two dance.
Whirling around Arlan, Lys laughs at Wulf and Varin talking like an old couple, and shouts, "How did you two survive without snarky comments at each other for so long?!", and begins clapping in tune with the music.
Varin barks a short sharp laugh and shakes his head. I wouldnt try swing you around, I'd be afraid I'd dislocate something in your back or something.Those old bones aren't what they used to be. Though I could kneel down..." He started comparing the distance between his knees and head, against Wulfrum for height.
Varin grins at Lys and shrugs before calling back, "I found a bear to harass, felt just like home. Came away with a damn sight less clouts in the ear from the bear too!"
Continuing her dance, Lys shouts back, "Oh, poor, poor bear. Though, that's not really fair. Bears have hair on the top of their heads as well! Though, with you around, probably not for long!"
Wulfrum growled slightly at Elize's little joke "Bah, you know twenty five years ago before I started babysitting you lot I have a full head of hair. I imagine that bear got a bald spot just from the little time spent with him" he said gruffly.
Rin laughs loudly and rubs Wulfrum on the head. "Come to think of it the old grizzly WAS a little thin on top when I last saw him. Guess it was me all along huh?"
Wulfrum grumbles a little bit at having his head rubbed "If there ain't no polish on your paw, you best be getting that off me head"
Nudging the man in the ribs softly to show it was all in jest, Varin grins and takes another swallow of the jug of water, finishing it off with an appreciative belch. "Ah home... Nowhere does water taste the same!"
Dancing with Lys, hearing the banter between Rin and Wulfrum, Arlan closes his eyes for a moment to take in the sounds and smells of home.
At the conclusion of the song he bows deeply to his partner, kissing her hand before raising his glass and saying: To Trunau!
Mohs watches Arlan do what he always does - or did. Take a rare pleasent moment and punch it in the face.
Of all those who left, why did he have to be one to come back. Every problem was solved with a fist, and Mohs remembered being a 'problem' a few times as a child.
Ten minutes here and he gets into a punching match with the old man, brags about getting sent to the stocks, provokes Lys, and offers out to share his drugs.
Gods help me, he's even bigger than he once was.
Reluctantly, and because he sees everyone else heaping warmth on Arlan, he calls out his own weak greeting, "Arlen! I never expected you to make it back to us. Well met."
We had a moment. And now . . . Well nothing lasts forever.
Elize bows down as well. After being kissed on the hand, she laughs and says, "Be careful there, Arlan! I'm not a magistrate's daughter, but you'll still get what's coming to you if you don't behave!", giving him a pat on the cheek.
Seeing Mohs wave as well, says, "To Trunau! And the dancers of the evening!", raising her flagon at Mohs and Kel, and takes a small, measured sip.
"Aye, to here and to you all!" Varin grinned, saluting with an empty cup.
Mohs watches Arlan do what he always does - or did. Take a rare pleasent moment and punch it in the face.
Of all those who left, why did he have to be one to come back. Every problem was solved with a fist, and Mohs remembered being a 'problem' a few times as a child.
Ten minutes here and he gets into a punching match with the old man, brags about getting sent to the stocks, provokes Lys, and offers out to share his drugs.
Gods help me, he's even bigger than he once was.
Reluctantly, and because he sees everyone else heaping warmth on Arlan, he calls out his own weak greeting, "Arlen! I never expected you to make it back to us. Well met."
We had a moment. And now . . . Well nothing lasts forever.
Arlan responds with a nod of the head and a quick wave.
Mohs returns Arlan's nod with a half-smile. He doesn't even remember. Probably hit in the head one too many times. He sits back at his table to watch the most recent set or revelries.
Menas rolls his eyes and sits back down with Beltzer. As he sits down, Menas says in a low tone, "Some things never change."
Shortly after the reunion of companions evolves into singing and dancing, Kurst Grath arrives dressed for duty in fine hide armor and arrayed with his tools for combat: longsword, composite longbow, quiver and small steel shield. The boyish young man in his twenties with curly light brown locks and dark eyes stands 6 feet tall and weighs only 150 pounds. You remember that his narrow frame belies his true strength as a scrappy combatant who is unafraid to fight. The younger Grath, who has always lived in his twin’s shadow, looks concerned and out of breath. Kurst’s usual honest smile is replaced by a grim frown, while his intense gaze quickly surveys the Killin’ Ground. Just as he says in a commanding voice, , the peaceful evening is shattered by the brazen calls of signal horns. Shouts and screams from the town’s lower quarter join the clamor, followed by a crash as an airborne boulder smashes into one of the guard towers. Thus, begins the Battle of Bloodmarch Hill.
With the festivities abruptly ended, Kurst looks to a group standing together and orders, The beacons are kept in readiness in various locations around town, in order to minimize the orc advantage from darkvision. Because it is visible from nearly all sides, the Commons beacon is the most important beacon in upper Trunau. You have been trained to know that a lit torch is enough to set the 10-foot-wide pyramid of wood and kindling ablaze.
'Trunau is under attack.'
As signal horns break the night air, Varin growls and stands up sharply, pulling on his gauntlets as he does. He moves to the door and shoulders his pack, tightening their straps across his chest, before picking up his Earthbreaker.
'You eight go light the beacons. Start with the Commons.' Nodding to Grath(it was good to see him alive, for the time being,) Varin shoulders his way out of the door and in to the street, waiting for the rest of the group in the illumination cast by the open doors.
"I cant carry a torch if I need to swing this big b!&&!. Anyone mind lightin me up?" He asks, when the spellcasters arrive.
The night is alive with the sounds of panic and for a moment Varin smiles, if only for a moment. He would know combat this night, of that he was sure. He had left Trunau, a place filled with blood and suffering and had returned from the frontlines of Lastwall. Blood was his calling, blood and the work of metal.
'Flamin nice night for it. Welcome home al'Thine!'
The memory of the song and dance lingers for a moment, along with the warmth of the moonshine in his belly, before the realization of Grath's words hits him.
Arlan moves to the wall to retrieve his weapons but, seeing Varin ready first, he strikes a sunrod and unceremoniously wedges it into the towering man's swordbelt.
There, that'll serve. Go, but tread carefully. We'll catch up. The worry in Arlan's voice is palpable.
He straps on his weapons, earlier piled in a heap, and tries to usher the other six into action.
Keltza's merry mood is abruptly shattered when she hears Kurst's news. Her green skin noticeably goes pale as she clenches her fists together, her burned hands racked in pain. She looks over to her allies and stands tall. "Come now. The sooner we get that beacon lit, the sooner we can join our allies in battle. I for one, will not be pleased if a Trunauan dies under my watch." She picks up her bag and starts to stride for the exit of The Killin' Ground, looking back briefly. "We should be able to make it quickly if we run. I hope one of you have a torch or a light spell. It looks pitch black outside." With that she steps outside and waits. "We might want to run before the battle gets too hectic. A lot of men and women will die if they can't see their attackers."
She turns to Varin and extends out her hand. "Give me a torch and I will hold it." Looking to the bandages on her hand she slowly retracts it. "A-actually, no. It would be best if someone else does. Or a light spell." She looks slightly terrified at the prospect of fire being so close to her, and you see her eyes widen as she realizes that she was sent on a mission to spark a massive fire. For the good of the town or not, it is hard to forget the burns which took her arms away from her.
Keltza closes her eyes and concentrates. Suddenly, Wulfrum, Varin, and Alran feel more connected to Keltza... almost as if their lives were inexplicably linked together. (I am setting up a life link with you three).
"For those that can't see in the target I'll leave these with you." Beltzer throws out what looks like several orbs dancing in the air. "I can't go too far from them but I should be still close enough to maintain their light.
Beltzer draws up his sword and shouts at the top of his lungs "TO THE DEFENSE OF TRAUNAU!"
Mohs leaps to Keltza. "those who don't need the light, let us head out first, let the human's carry the torches and follow behind, as we clear the way. Keltza! Beltzer! Wulfrum! Together we will take the first wave! Let's keep together, Everyone else follow behind with us just at the edge of your light. If attackers have gotten over the walls, hopefully they will focus on you and we can hit them unawares."
Assuming the others gather as he suggested, Mohs starts along the most direct route to the beacon.
Here less than twelve hours . . . Fate has a cruel sense of humor.
"Trunau is still our home!"
Wulfrum is smoking on his pipe as the man strides in declaring an attack on the town, he nearly chokes on it as he stands up knocking the table aside as he does so. His legs though small quickly stride across the room and he grabs up his shield and warhammer. He looked at the pack and shook his head as he turned about to make sure the others were ready. "[/b]Aye good call lad, those who can see up front. We'll take those bastards this night.[/b]" he said and shoved his way out the door trying to take up the lead. He wouldn't be surprised if once outside the others over take him as he charges forward to find an opponent.
Nerak had mostly been observing as the night came. When the twins come in, he knew something was wrong. A moment later it is confirmed and so yet another attack came to his home. He grabbed the well made crossbow from his hip and loaded it. Meanwhile Lorn from his bag like home flies atop his master's head, once more shining with light.
"Lorn can act as a light and can keep up with us. Even move around as needed. Just don't expect him to fight. If no one minds, I'll keep to the back and provide cover fire."
His clothes suddenly change, clearly magic, from green and travel worn to dull black. Making him harder to see in the night, after all even orc eyes had a limited range without light. Something to take advantage of depending on the state of things.
"Lead on then."
He follows behind at least two front liners, a rushed mage was a dead one in his book. Orcs thrived on chaos, they suffered under tactics and well planned attacks. Why else did his home stand among a land they claimed to rule.
Lys jumps up from the table, shouting at Kurst, "Hello to you too, Kurst! Miss us?" Rushing to the door, she grabs The Messenger, and grabs one of the magazines from her belt, jamming it in with a practiced motion.
Drawing a lever, the crossbow makes a clicking sound, as four arms extend from the body, and a bolt sticks out from the front. "Let's see who learned some new tricks!", she says, shaking her head to get the moonshine feel out of it. Grabbing her hat from the coat rack, she says, "I'll keep the rear. Don't worry, I promise I won't shoot anybody in the bum!", as she takes a slow, careful walk with the same pace as the short-legged people.
Pacing next to the others, she mutters, "I've completely forgotten how it feels to be fighting alongside somebody." Continuing, she says, "It's a good thing to remember. For Trunau!"
Signal horns, screams, shouts, and smashing boulders echo throughout Trunau as you hustle toward the Commons Beacon. Before the guards quickly seal the gates behind you after you enter Upper Trunau, you think you hear fighting and commands to indicate that the raiders are already inside the town. You push the concern from your mind and focus on the immediate mission.
As you pass between houses and the Commons , you start to hear odd shouting that is distinctly different from the defense of the town. When you round the corner of the Commons, you see a mob, which looks like the entire audience of the Commons, near the Commons Beacon. As you get closer, you distinctly hear racial slurs against orcs and finally understand the situation that shocks you. A lynch mob of humans surround a female half-orc who is keeping them at bay with her hopeknife. The shouting indicates that they blame her for the attack tonight and want to burn her on the Commons Beacon.
There are more than several dozen, upset people carrying weapons and torches. Most of them belong to the Watch and are needed for the defense of the town. One of the men appears to be the ringleader, but you don’t recognize him. What familiar faces that you may find in the mob are deep in the pack and are obviously not leaders.
Back up, all of you! Get to the walls and defend them! Arlan's rage-filled voice carries over the din. He hurries to stand by the girl's side and levels his spear at the mob. She said her Vow, same as you or I. Any man or woman that gets in my way instead of fighting the real enemy, the ones attacking our walls, I count you as a foe. And any foes of Trunau I find tonight, I'll crush under my heel like the worms they are! Now get back to your posts!
Keltza hears the slurs and her eyebrows furrow as she hears the insults being thrown around. She steps up and begins to unwrap her bandages, revealing shriveled, blackened arms. "Listen up! My name is Keltza Proditor; you may remember me as an apprentice healer in town, but others may remember the significance of these burns, and my control over fire." She sneers at the ringleader of the lynch mob and stretches her hands as if she could spit fire from them at any time. "Now you want to burn her at the stake, although she is not the problem? You would rather attack a defenseless woman than protect your town? To me, that is even worse than scum, you should consider yourselves traitors! Even the orcs -the scum and filth that they are- seem to be united in this assault."
"Now, I expect you lot to go to the defense of the town while we light the beacons. And I swear, by Ragathiel's holy flames, if I find out that this woman was injured, I will ensure that you lot burn on the pyre with her! Do you understand me?"
Nerak gave an inner groan, was all reason lost the moment things got difficult. Why would anyone in their right mind, provoke a mob? How was what they were doing any different then the mob itself. This was not the time or place, while others fought and perhaps died to protect the town, the town was going to start fighting itself from with in. He would watch for the moment. Hopefully his more level headed comrades could repair the increasing damage of the situation. Meanwhile he would keep a close eye on Lorn, to keep him from any mischief.
"By the name of all that we defend. What is wrong with you people?" Beltzer booms. "We have harboured people off all shapes and sizes to protect from the orcs that attack this city." He points to himself. "Half orcs like that girl and myself, or lest you forget I am the son of this towns head defender?"
Beltzer shouts again not aggressively however "You would turn on each other, instead of using your knives against those that would take this city from us? Do you call yourselves Traunauns?!"
Wulfrum charges into the crowd and gets between the half orc lady and the ring-leader. He points his warhammer at the man's knees and yells. "Ye'll not lay a finger on this poor lass while I'll still be breathing, not until there is at least a proper investigation into this mess." he said to the crowd before turning his attention fully on the ring-leader. "You, however, I will personally knock those knees backwards if you don't knock this foolish rubbish off and get to defending the town." he said narrowing his eyes and making sure to remember who he is for later.
Mohs sees and feels the heat rising from the mob. The hate of the invaders has penetrated faster than their weapons. The frightened half-orc needs help and a lynching uses valuable resources Trunau cannot afford to squander.
Mohs pushes through the mob to stand beside the scared woman. he stands next to her and places the head of his hammer at his feet, set in a wide and stubborn stance.
He raises his voice in support of the first party member to try to calm the crowd. "This is beneath us. Your safety and the safety of our home is more important. Find your selves and help or hide as you are best able to serve."
Varins eyes widen sharply and he frowns, shaking his head in disgust. "What in the name of..." He bites back the rest of the sentence as Wulfrum moves beside him.
Catching the Dwarfs idea, Varin pushes through the crowd with him, putting himself between the mob and the woman, standing side by side with Wulfrum. He does not speak but rather lifts his hammer and slowly cracks his neck as he tightens his grip on the haft of the Earthbreaker.
His eyes dart from side to side, taking in faces, remembering names where he can. Days were bad when Trunau turned on its own. He looked back over his should for a moment at the woman, before turning back to the crowd.
'Aye she is one of ours. Who is the bloody savage here, her or them?'
A slow, deep rumbling growl escaped his lips as he gritted his teeth and leaned forward slightly, rounding his shoulder, readying himself to lash out with the Eartbreaker, if anyone decided to charge them.
The threats from the arriving heavily armed, mixed race contingent have a more immediate and influential effect than the attempts at diplomacy. The mob and ringleader are cowed. The mob steps back and lets anyone move to the side of the female half-orc.
Keltza sighs, casting a quick spell -enhanced diplomacy- before moving forward, looking to the people around her. "Friends, neighbors, I forgive you for my earlier anger. It was not befitting of me to lash out at you, but please understand where I am coming from. We are a united people... all Trunauans are our family. There is no use in attempting to murder one of our own right here on the streets when that very anger that was burning up inside of you could be used to destroy our foes, the orcs at the walls at this moment! We can survive anything my fellow townsfolk... will you stand us and fight for our home? Will you do the right thing and crush the invaders? Or will you allow them to take everything from us?!"
From within the crowd, Mohs addresses his friends and family, taking special care to meet the eye of people he remembered and would likely remember him. "Now, real enemies are at our doorstep. To your posts if you can lift a blade or hammer. If you cannot, clear the streets. Find your assigned refuge and let your neighbors do their jobs. He turns then to the half-orc, "How are you? Are you hurt?"
Varin stares over the heads of the mob and gestures at Bel and Arlan to join him. He keeps a wary eye on those gathered, threatening them to make a move. They may be cowed for now, but scared people can lash out if they see no way out of it.
'If we can keep them occupied long enough we can have Arl run up and light up the beacon, that will be a help in lightening the mood. Heh...'
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Once the way is clear, Nerak makes his way to the others. Shaking his head as Lorn hovers above him shining light and nasty looks upon those around him as he moves. Nerak speaks not with a soft or even a impassioned voice, but rather a strong and reasoned one.
"We are besieged by yet another orc horde. It is not the first, it will not be the last. Yet Trunau endures. It can not be said to do so by numbers, the orcs breed endlessly so that even with their savage ways they need not preserve their people in any way. Trunau does not endure by virtue of might, orcs are born strong and grow stronger by trial of survival among their violent nature. Our home does not endure by virtue of ingenuity for make no mistake the wicked minds of orcs have a talent for war we may never know. So why does Trunau endure before all that is the orcs that claim and hold this land we call our home, that we refused to let them rob us of."
His stare hardens as it falls on the mob, for a moment reminding those that forget, he is still ulfen. Be it a weak one.
"She endures because we know unity. We know the value of life and that we would throw our own into the great beyond before letting it be twisted by the likes of those that know nothing of it. Our hopeknives are a symbol of that unity and the ties we have to our own. Yet you would force one of our own to soil such a precious thing upon her kin, not in mercy but defense. Trunau endures only in unity, without it she is lost. Be it in body at the hands of orcs, or be it in soul at the hands of betrayers that would bring death to their kin. Blood in these lands means nothing, the ties we forge mean everything. I will not stand nor be kind to those that would break such ties."
He took his place beside his comrades. He may not agree with some of their approaches but he did not doubt their hearts or loyalty, something those before him could not certainly say less they show themselves to be clear deceivers, of themselves or others.
Arlan relaxes his ire a bit as his companions' sincere words mollify the mob. He plants the butt of his spear in the ground, reaching with his free hand to draw forth his hopeknife from under his shirt and display it for all to see while Nerak speaks of unity.
The half-elf then approaches one of the cowed villagers and holds his hand out expectantly towards the torch.
Mind if I do the honors?
Seeing the hopeknifes being risen in the air, Lys reactively reaches for her boot, her hopeknife being lost long ago. I can't believe that people would actually do that, especially now., she thinks, as she stands behind the others, crossbow at the ready.
As the crowd disperses, she moves through the crowd, and stands next to the others. Just don't mention orcs right now... Pulling a small winch, she adjusts her crossbow, which makes a rather strange mechanical noise, and says, "Now, we can talk about how lynching in a middle of a siege is the worst idea since owlbears, or we can do something about the invaders.", pointing at the damaged guard tower and the landed boulder. "If that's everyone done with their brain farts, I say we go and hold off the attack! First one to kill one of them a&#~**+s gets a kiss!"
Gazing upon Arlan holding his hand for the torch, she scratches her head. What if...
"Hey, wizards! I know there's a flying or a levitating spell around. If you can get me some tar and some spare rags, I can try and light the beacons from the air.", she shouts at Nerak and Mohs,
"Lys, not in my repertoire, but our little lady here, Mohs indicates Kel, who seems to have calmed down a bit, "has a certain affinity with fire" He shudders a bit as a remembered dance of flames crawled across his vision and spine.
"Go on girl, let it go!" Mohs backs away from the beacon.