Jeremiah looks down at Artigal with an incredulous look. "You hear that, boys? He may or may not have intentionally shot at them!" Jeremiah and the other lumberjacks sudden break into a disturbing laugh. "Well, Mr. Artigal, I can tell you it was intentional, and I didn't even have to be there to witness it. That hob just had bad aim, and lucky for you that it was just the one."
He turns and spits. "I don't know where you come from, but around these parts there is a death sentence on being a hobgoblin, or any type of goblin for that matter. You ever hear of the Goblinblood War? About 18 years ago? An army of monsters, gathered together by the hobgoblins, just like the one you apparent feel like saving, ravaged the lands around here. That army was headed here towards us, before the Eagle Knights showed up and kept them outta the Vale. Those hobs slaughtered men, women, and children in their blood lust. Bunch of our boys volunteered to go fight... and most of them didn't come back. My brother included." He glares at the hobgoblin.
At this point several other Jacks have taken notice of the strange group heading deeper into the camp, including the familiar face of Milon who looks at you two with a confused look. Jeremiah slings his crossbow and stops. "Give me that hob, Caine. We'll take care of this from here. Micah, go grab a log."
Zzzzzzzzzzzz
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Nathaniel talks a he walks
Have you ever heard of the battle of Talon Bend, it took place a long, very long time ago. My country was invaded, many of my kind were killed, men, women, the old, the young, and there really was no way our little army was every going to stop the invasion. So there was this woman, her name was Fiona McKelnicky, she was a brave soldier, a leader. She formed a defense on the Blue River, at Talon bend. She drew the invading army toward her and her little band, knowing that the bend had no escape. But it bought time for the people of three villages to escape, flee deep toward the south into the forest, and many hundreds of lives were saved.
That woman, we call her the Lady of Mittonwir, it means the lady who delays. She is buried in a tomb on a hill in that river bend. I was a guard of her tomb. It means a lot to me that I try to follow the things she led us to believe. She is like a saint to us. She was a brave warrior, but she was also kind, and forgiving. She told my ancestors, before she set out to delay the invading army, not to hold anger against those invaders. She taught my people to be forgiving, because what they were doing was being done out of misunderstanding, fear, and misplaced anger. So we don’t hold a grudge against the people who invaded us. To this day, we don’t.
Oh, and by the way, they were human, human men, not very different from you. Driven in fear and anger to take land for themselves that they felt had been taken from them in the first place. That was a long time ago. Mostly we don’t bring it up, but you know, sometimes I feel it’s important to remind people that there isn’t any one race that has a monopoly on evil.
Caine just kept trudging along with the hobgoblin on his back.
"I give the Hob to you, then I gotta walk back listening to a lecture. You want it, convince him. I'm just the guy carryin' it. "
It was going to be a long night.
"That's adorable, sound asleep already.
Being that I don't see well in the dark, wake me once it begins to get a bit brighter so I can guard then.
I'll...get to the...hawk...in the morn'n..."
Ruhk's eyelids slowly begins to droop as he dozes of, soon snoring softly.
Zirren turned to look back at the others who were soon sound asleep. Well if they were just going to tell each other stories then maybe I should have let one of them have first watch. Still I suppose they have a point, Caine and Nathaniel are quite the opposite. This area won't treat the Hobgoblin with anything but what is due it.
He looked at the bag which still held the hawk from earlier. The idea was to just kill it in the morning for food, but for some reason Nathaniel's words rang in his head. Why had he bothered to tie it up at all. It wasn't like he had planned to take it as his own. Why hadn't he just done away with it right then. Heh... maybe Nathaniels morality is rubbing off on me instead.
He waited a few more minutes before picking up the sack with the hawk, then quietly as he could, he climbed down from the blind.
Lumber Camp
A few of the lumberjacks listened intently to Artigal's story and even looked a little ashamed at their bloodlust, but Jeremiah did not appeared swayed in the least. He turned his head and spat onto the ground. "Well, boy, you've led a much more sheltered life than me. The only thing kindness gets you around the Vale is a quick, and merciful if you're lucky, death." He looks around at his companions, as if trying to rile them up again, when he spots Micah still standing nearby. "Damn it, Micah! I said go get a log! I intend to take this hob's head myself!"
Micah, one of the lumberjacks who appeared to have been swayed by Nathaniel's words, steps back away from the larger Jack. "No way, Jeremiah. I ain't your bootlicker and I ain't takin' no part of this. Mr. Artigal there made a pretty good point. I hate hobs just as much as everyone else, but what if he's right?" Micah shakes his head. "No, you want that log, then you go get it. I'm no executioner, just a simple Jack." He looks around at the other four lumberjacks. "C'mon boys, let's get back to work." Micah and two of the lumberjacks take one more look at the unconscious hobgoblin an undisguised loathing evident in their eyes; however, they turn and walk away.
"Cowards! Get outta here, you spineless lot!" He calls after them. "Don't have the guts to do what needs doing." A sudden, palpable silence seems to fill the logging camp as every lumberjack seems to have forgotten their work and are watching the exchange between Nathaniel, Caine, Jeremiah, and the last remaining lumberjack who stands next to Jeremiah defiantly. "Caine, I ain't got a problem with you, but you're in Consortium territory now. So, I tell you again... Give me that hobgoblin or there's going to be a problem."
Nathaniel and Greyson notice Milon approaching from behind Jeremiah with his axe in hand...
Camp
Zirren sneaks down out of the hunter's stand fairly quietly, without making too much of a racket. As he picks his path away from the hunter's stand, he hears the sounds of something moving through the forest further down the treeline. Several somethings in fact...
Caine sighed and stopped walking. He looked at Jeremiah for a long moment, still not putting down the hobgoblin, and then said "That problem going to come from your fists, or his axe?"
Zirren's eyes widened at the approaching creatures. He loosened the bag around the Hawk since he didn't want to have to deal with that as well as whatever was coming. He opened the bag away from himself and hoped it would just fly off and hopefully cause some sort of confusion.
"Go!" he said to the Hawk. But his focus was toward the creatures. "Who's there?!" he demanded.
Camp
As soon as Zirren releases the hawk it flaps away, without a second glance back! Apparently it had enough of being wrapped up in a cloak. Despite his challenge, the creatures moving through the woods do not seem to respond, though Zirren hears...
"Didjou hear somethin'?" A slurred and clearly drunken voice tries to whisper and fails.
"No, keep walkin'! We gotta finnnnnd the lake." A second drunk voice responds.
Clearly perplexed at the idea of drunken individuals this far out into the woods, Zirren crept closer to see who would be out here at this hour.
Camp
Unfortunately for Zirren, there are several dead-fall branches and fallen leaves nearby that he seems to find with every step.
"I'm tellin' ya, I hear somethin'!" Suddenly the movement stops.
"Aye, I heard it too..."
"Gods, I hope it ain't those fey bastards again."
"Shut it!" The second calls hisses, trying to be quiet, but not succeeding in any way of the concept. This voice does seem a little more sober than the rest, but there is still the distinctive slow slur to its speech. "Who's out there? You a Jack?"
Clearly these drunken fools are lacking in the intelligence department...
With Caine's comment, I thought I wouldn't say anything else until Milon got involved
What am I doing. Sneaking away from sleeping people is one thing, sneaking up on alert even drunken individuals, is another.
"No, not myself anyway. Come out into the open so that we might talk. I am no Fey. What are the two of you doing in the dark?"
Logging Camp
Jeremiah raises his eyebrow at Caine's comment and turns to see Milon heading their way with his axe. "Good! Finally someone who ain't a coward. Milon! Bring grab me one of them logs on your way over!" He calls out to the woodsman.
Milon shakes his head. "Jeremiah, walk away. Now." Milon rests the handle of his axe on his shoulders with a calm, yet commanding demeanor. "I'll handle the hobgoblin, get back to your post and make sure no one sneaks up into our camp again."
Jeremiah looks at Milon defiantly. "Oh no you don't, Milon. This one is mine, I aim to put that creature's head on post and stick it where the rest of the foul creatures in this gods-forsaken woods can see it." He spits on the ground.
"No, you are going to get your ass back to your post like I said. We will deal with that...thing, later." he points his axe at the hobgoblin in Caine's arms. The two lumberjacks stare each other down for a several minutes, neither saying another word as the tension seems to build... All sounds of sawing and axing have stopped and it is almost as if the entire world stopped to watch. Milon watches Jeremiah calmly, both hands resting atop his axe handle.
Greyson notices the subtle shift in both men's stances as each anticipates the others' attack. He sees Jeremiah's fist clench and his breathing begin to become fast and shallow... His knees bend ever so slightly as he shifts his weight onto the balls of his feet...
Suddenly an angry shout splits the air and breaks the tension. "What the hell is going on out here?! Why don't I hear saws and axes? Somebody better be dead!" Jeremiah turns his head away from Milon to glance towards the source of the voice; Jarlben Trookshavits the foreman of the Logging Camp. "Get back to work!" He roars and shoots a glare over at the little group that had slowed down his camp's productivity.
Jeremiah sneers at Milon and spit at his feet. "This ain't over, Woodsman." The last word dripping with venom as Jeremiah storms away, his lickspittle lackey tailing like a cur following its master.
Milon watches Jeremiah calmly until the man is out of earshot. He then settles an intense gaze upon Caine and Artegal. "What's this all about then?"
Camp
A moment of silence follows Zirren's statement until... "Not two, three of us. Just... the third one can't talk right now." The voice sounds not just drunk, but scared as well. "If we come out, you ain't goin' to hurts us, right?"
Caine's gaze followed to Artigal also. "Its about a lot of things. Mostly though, its about him."
Thank you Milon, if I might speak to the foreman, please
I approach the foreman
Sir, my name is Nathaniel Artegal Boote, and I and my companions were traveling in the woods looking for components to assist in the making of a cure for the recent plague. Forgive us, please for trespassing, we meant no harm. This Hobgoblin, in the dark, earlier this evening, fired a shot from a bow at one of our band, from a hunter's blind in the woods, near the lake. We acted to defend ourselves, and the hobgoblin was badly wounded, we did not intend to kill him, and I believe he did not intend to kill any of us. I believe he was hunter, in the dark, who made a mistake. He was alone, and not armed as a warrior. I insisted that we bring the hobgoblin back here to your camp where, should he recover, he can be questioned. I do not know your laws, I am from a country to the south of this land, but I believe he should be treated according to your laws, and that it would be wrong for us to act without your council. So, we brought him to you folk.
"What? No, I will not hurt you. Now come out of there. It sounds like you might have wounded with you."
Annoyed casts a spell to shed more light on the area.
Camp
"Aw'right, we're comin' out!" Three drunken lumberjacks stumble out from the treeline, where they were rather ill-concealed with the extra light that Zirren added to the mix. Two of them are helping a third, who is practically being drug by the other two. They all appear extremely pale, while the third man is sweating profusely and covered with vomit. "Can ya help us? Please?" One of them pleads with Zirren.
Logging Camp
Milon grunts his approval for Nathaniel to go speak with the foreman. He then turns and glares at Caine as the halfling wanders over towards Trookshavits. "Caine, you want to tell me why the hell you're draggin' an unconscious hobgoblin into the lions den? The real story this time, none of that cryptic nonsense. It better a damn good reason too.
Trookshavits watches Nathaniel with his beady eyes intently as he approaches. The first thing Nathaniel notices about the foreman is his long, white hair, then his weathered and scarred face... and the steely gaze that holds the halfling for a moment as he listens to Nathaniel's story. He glances over towards Caine still holding the unconscious hobgoblin, than back to Nathaniel. "Does he have an ugly lookin' lip?"
Caine shrugged. "If you're lookin' for a good reason, you're going to be disappointed."
"He seems to think that everything deserves a fair trial. I tried to explain that around here things don't often work they way they aught to. This is where that got me. "
"So I'm playing pack mule because he's too small to carry the Hob himself, and because I want to see if he really can do something that makes things work a little different around here."
"Either things change a little, or he wises up. I figure its a win-win for me."
Yes, sir, I believe this hunter does have a deformed lip. Do you know him?
Logging Camp
Caine
Milon stares at Caine incredulously, seemingly at a loss for words, before his face begins to redden. "People are dropping like flies and he wants to play Marcus the Merciful with a damned hobgoblin?! So help me, Caine, if my nephew dies because of this..." He turns to glare over his shoulder at Nathaniel as he speaks with Trookshavits. "Someone will pay if he dies..."
Artegal
Trookshavits nods and runs his index finger down a nasty scar that starts at his right nostril, runs down over his lips, and down to the bottom of his chin. "Aye, I know him. Gave me this scar with his axe right after he feathered one of my boys with that bow of his. Its name is Grung, we call him Knifetongue on account of that nasty lip o' his. Been huntin' him for a long time." He narrows his eyes as he gazes over towards the unconscious hobgoblin. "I appreciate you bringin' him to us, son." He looks down at Artegal with a hard look. "Tell you what. Since you took all that time in bringing him in, then I'll at least give him the opportunity to answer for all his crimes. We'll have ourselves a little tribunal here."
Camp
With the added light, Zirren spots the three ill-concealed men "hiding" in the treeline. They all appear pale and two are holding the other up by their arms, helping him limp along as they step out from the treeline. The third man appears to be sweating profusely despite the chill in the air and is incredibly pale with vomit coating the front of his body... The other two men are more dragging/carrying him along than he is 'walking'. "Can you help us?"
Belladonna grumbles and shifts, but is slow to wake up.
Caine nodded his agreement. "We weren't gonna make it any further tonight. The others are camped. I wouldn't have agreed if it was gonna cost us any time. Just means he and I get to be tired tomorrow."
Thank you, sir, and I am sorry for the trouble you have suffered, at his hands, and at mine. I am grateful that you agreed to hear my concern, and I trust that the judgment will be fair, and the punishment, if deemed necessary, will be swift, and not cruel. Good evening.
Nathaniel will return to Caine, and say
Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it? Come, let us return to our companions and give them the good news. Thank you for, for helping me show what compassion I can in this world.
Logging Camp
Trookshavits laughs at being called 'sir', but that jovial laugh disappears quickly to the stony demeanor that appears to be the foreman's normal appearance. "It'll be fair and swift, son. Unlike Knifetongue and his ilk, we don't savor cruel punishments. Farewell..." Trookshavits shakes his head as he watches Artegal walk back towards Caine and Milon.
Caine's calm demeanor and sensible comments cools Milon's anger significantly. "Well, I suppose that's probably true. I forgot you all don't know The Woods like I do. Waste more time getting lost." He looks Artegal at he approaches with a look of disapproval. "Artegal, was it? Caine explained to me the situation here and why I don't agree with it... I can respect your position; however, I feel I need remind you that every moment you all waste on fool's errands is another dead child or sibling or parent for someone back in Falcon's Hollow." He gives Artegal a very serious and sombre look. [b]"Now, leave that thing with me and go. I overheard Trookshavits say it'll have a hearing. I'll watch over it until that time."
Zirren looked at the pale men with some concern.
"Come on, I'll take you back to my group. Zilka, Belladonna, Ruhk, wake up! We've got a wounded man who needs attention!"
"Ghah!"
Belladonna tumbles off the platform
"Who's there? What's going on?"
And smack into a tree she goes
"Hmmm....mmm...huh? Someone say something about a wounded man?
Is Caine back? I think he know something about medicine from his own comments earlier..."
Just our luck... Zirren thought to himself. Of course it would be Cain to be the only one... no. No Zirren you had a chance to learn with the Pathfinders, but you opted for intensive perception study.
"Yes, but he's not here right now. Let's just see what we can do for him and his companions."
"Right you are.
Umm, I'd offer to stand watch while we do it, but I can't see too well.
Anything else I can do to help?"
"You just sit there and look pretty, Ruhk."
Says Belladonna as she approaches, a few leaves are stuck in her hair.
Ruhk grins, reaches over to pluck a leaf from Belladonna's hair before leaning down and whispering in her ear.
"Ah, I COULD do that and no mistake, but I could never be nearly as pretty as YOU m'dear..."
Camp
The two men help drag along the third towards the area where the group has setup their camp. They both look up at the stand, knowing full well they would not be able to help their comrade up there. As they lean him against the tree, everyone spots blood splatters up and down the injured man's back...
One of the men, immediately collapses down next to his injured companion, pulling his knees up to his chest and rocking slightly. He pays no mind to anyone, muttering something inaudible as he stares towards the lake.
The other man keeps glancing over his shoulder towards the treeline behind them. "We was up doin' a bit o' huntin' when we was attacked by somethin'! It looked like a crazed gnome carryin' a hammer and chisel." He looks at his injured friend. "I don't really know what it did to, Dan, but... When we tried to run, he suddenly couldn't hardly move and each time he tried to run his skin started to crack... Sounded like ice. And then that thing fell upon his back with the chisel." He suddenly stops as his voice starts to crack.
Thank you, sir, and I am sorry for the trouble you have suffered, at his hands, and at mine. I am grateful that you agreed to hear my concern, and I trust that the judgment will be fair, and the punishment, if deemed necessary, will be swift, and not cruel. Good evening.
Nathaniel will return to Caine, and say
Well, that wasn't so bad, now was it? Come, let us return to our companions and give them the good news. Thank you for, for helping me show what compassion I can in this world.
Nathaniel wonders if Caine is lost in his own worrisome thoughts, and then tugs and the big man's trousers
I said, that wasn't so bad, right? I think we're done here. Let's get back to the others...
then when the two are a good distance from the loggers, he will add
Thank you, I imagine you think that it was a wasted effort, that the hobgoblin will die anyway, without a fair trial, which is probably what is going to happen, but I hope you understand that I needed to do what was right, what I thought was right,and I did, with your help. I can only do what I think is right, and I can't control what others think or do, but thank you for letting me think, even if it is just for this one moment, that I can try to do what I think is right no matter what the opposition might be like.
"You remind me of someone I used to know." Caine said taking a pull off his stein as they walked in the pre-dawn gloom. "He was kind of an idiot, but his heart was in the right place and I liked him."
"Hmm, I feel like I should have read something somewhere about that, but I just can't recall at the moment. Zilka?"
"Hey, can you guys help me out here? It's gonna be real bad if I become the only healer here haha"
As Belladonna tries to patch the man up, the little fox watches with utmost curiosity.
I imagine Nathaniel and Caine will return in the early morning hours?
I imagine Nathaniel and Caine will return in the early morning hours?