The first day of their journey back through the forest is relatively peaceful. Treetopper and Dolgren manage to bring down a couple of rabbits, and a squirrel. It enough to keep the group going, along with some treebark to fill out their stomachs. Midway through the day's travel, they are passing through a copse of evergreens. The tree's boughs are heavily laden with snow. There is a loud crack, and one of the old pines topples over, right at Treetopper! The sound is enough warning for the nimble goblin, and he manages to jump out of the way.
The second day is similar to the first. The snowy woods are quiet and peaceful, and the sun is shining brightly through the skeletal canopy. Luck is with the marshals and just past dawn Dolgren sights a mule deer doe, as she leaps away from the men into the forest. He is just quick enough to snap up his rifle and make the shot, and the marshals are able to harvest as much venison as they can carry from the doe. Later Ozark sniffs out some rodent's cache of buried nuts. The group eats well on rich venison steaks sprinkled with crushed bitter acorns.
The third day brings the marshals out of the forest and back onto the plains by noon. They breakfast well on the remaining venison, and enjoy the faster pace they are able to make across the flat grasslands. There is a hard frost coating the ground which resists the rays of the sun well into the afternoon. The blades of grass appear like so many crystal spines on the back of a great porcupine stretching off to the horizon. They crunch with each footfall of the lonely marshals.
They stop for lunch, making a small cookfire and cooking the brace of grouse that Treetopper and Dolgren were able to shoot from the air as they fled the oncoming marshals. As they sit in the tall grass around their fire of coals eating....
...they all fail to notice the pony-sized black wolf creeping up on them. That is until the wolf leaps at Didier with its evil jaws held wide.
Hit
Success
The wolf bowls Didier over, sinking its teeth into his shoulder then ripping its jaw back and forth to leave a huge bloody wound.
=======================================
Zort reaches into a pouch and grabs a pinch of sand and sprinkles it, pointing at the wolf. "Sleep, beast!"
Dolgren looks stunned as the thing apparently materialises from nowhere. He is too slow to prevent Didier from being badly hurt, but recovers quickly. Unslinging his rifle from his shoulder, he brings it to bear and snaps off a quick shot at the beast.
Round 1
Treetopper stands up pulling out his Human-sized revolver and shoots. The bullet digs into the ground.
miss
Ozark gets between Treetopper and snaps at the Worg.
miss
Didier begins to cast a spell, but in his attempts to do so without the wolf biting him again, he loses the spell, and loses consciousness soon after.
Zort reaches into a pouch and grabs a pinch of sand and sprinkles it, pointing at the wolf. "Sleep, beast!"
Dolgren looks stunned as the thing apparently materialises from nowhere. He is too slow to prevent Didier from being badly hurt, but recovers quickly. Unslinging his rifle from his shoulder, he brings it to bear and snaps off a quick shot at the beast. The bullet tears into the worg's gut, wounding it badly.
Treetopper stands up pulling out his Human-sized revolver and shoots. The bullet digs into the ground. Ozark gets between Treetopper and snaps at the Worg.
Didier begins to cast a spell, but in his attempts to do so without the wolf biting him again, he loses the spell, and loses consciousness soon after.
The worg turns on Ozark, growling and snapping at the wolf.
================================
Didier stops bleeding quite as much.
Dolgren steps out of range of the beast's jaws, and readies his rifle, seeking to fire at the thing. But the combat with Ozark means that he can't get a clear sight and the shot goes wide.
Zort finishes his soporific spell then moves around the tangle of jaws, claws, and fur to Didier.
"Get up, French. You're alright," Zort says.
Zort murmurs some other unintelligible words and moves his hands as if he's stitching a wound in the air. Zort's hands begin to glow with a soft white aura. He slams down on Didier's chest and the white aura flows over to Didier's wounds before dissipating.
The campfire roars after Zort puts one-log-too-many in the center. The fire casts their shadows long into the wilderness. If anyone is looking for a camp then it shouldn't be hard to see this fire. The fire's warmth is welcome though especially since the weather's been cold enough for snowfall.
Zort puts his top hat on its side on the ground with the opening facing the fire. Gus darts about gathering straw, leaves, and other debris to build his nightly makeshift home in the top hat. "Lookin' good, Gus," Zort says. Gus returns an appreciative squeak but continues in his task. Zort is not quite sure where the little thing gets all his energy. Before too long, Gus has the top hat brimming with forest debris and it looks cozy enough that Zort wishes he was small enough to fit inside and take a snooze.
Zort's suit is covered in dirt from the trail. He tries brushing it off but there's only so much a hand can do for cleaning. It s a ridiculous outfit for ranging anyhow. There ain't nobody out here to sell to. The suit only served to make Zort somewhat presentable to the humans but now that's all in the past. Not to mention the suit itsstiff in the elbow and shoulder areas and makes for a hard time of drawing a weapon quick-like.
Zort plops down, facing the fire and looks at the others.
"Anybody else ever think: How did I get myself into this? Or are ya'all just fittin' for this kind of life?" Zort asks no one in particular.
Round 2
"Ozark!" Treetopper screams at the blood and fires his Colt again at the Worg. The bullet buries into a haunch.
Ozark stands its ground and bites the underbelly of the worg drawing blood.
no
Didier stops bleeding quite as much.
Dolgren steps out of range of the beast's jaws, and readies his rifle, seeking to fire at the thing. But the combat with Ozark means that he can't get a clear sight and the shot goes wide.
Zort finishes his soporific spell then moves around the tangle of jaws, claws, and fur to Didier.
The worg promptly falls asleep.
"Ozark!" Treetopper screams at the blood. He steps up to the sleeping worg and fires his Colt point-blank into its eyeball. The animal twitches once as it dies.
"You fine, Didier?" Zort walks over to the worg's corpse and gives it a nudge with his foot. "Looks like maybe he got a sniff of that grouse on our cookfire and decided he'd like a taste."
Zort's heard his fair share of animals stalking in the night around a camp fire but never has he seen one with the gusto enough to attack abisselfa.
"Well boys, I must insist we sup on some of this beast tonight. Never can properly understand a thing until you've eaten it, I say."
Zort continues to study the creature, noting its musculature and how its paws might make tracks in the dirt. It don't look like it has retractable claws.
"Somebody help me lug this sum @#%#! onto my horse so we can roast him on our night fire."
Treetopper looks between Ozark who is bloody and conscious and the Frenchie who is bloody and unconscious. He looks at Zort and replies, "I had an aunt who used to say the same thing."
He goes over to "help" Zort with Didier and pushes the healing potion that he received from Zort down the Frenchie's gullet. He had no desire to lug the man at all.
Then, he goes over to attend to Ozark. He wants to bind his wounds, but it's obvious that he is not good at it.
22 bullets.
Dolgren smiles slightly at Zort's evident discomfort; the dwarf pulls his rich furs closely around himself. The fire may be warm, but the air is bitter.
In response to the goblin's question, he considers deeply before replying. "I have ever been a seeker of adventure; I was born the same day as the human nation of Nova Roma and it appears my destiny is bound with theirs. More years have I now spent above ground than below, with human than with dwarf. They are rash to the point of folly, these humans; perhaps I have caught something of their madness, but the life of quiet toil no longer appeals to me. My saga has time to run yet ere it is complete."
He nods at Zort. "And what brings one to the wilderness, who is so evidently discomforted by it?"
Dolgren does his best to help both Didier and Ozark. "Brave beast indeed, to spar with one so much bigger."
Didier gratefully takes the potion from Treetopper and drinks it. He then heals himself with another couple spells. At the evening campfire, Didier prepares the worg and cooks it. The meal is a bit average, as the Frenchman is unsure of how to prepare wolf.
Treetopper reloads his revolver with 2 bullets. He offers the rest to the others before packing the bullets away in a saddlebag.
Zort walks over to Ozark and almost pets it before realizing that's probably not a good idea. Zort looks at Gus who is perched on Zort's shoulder. "Can we help 'em, today?" Zort asks. Gus just shakes its little head slowly. "I can help your pup tomorrow, gob," Zort says.
Zort points in the direction he thinks is the way to back the Leveton's fort.
It's the wrong way. The exact opposite way. "Let's get a move on before that varmints friends decide they'd like to have a taste of us as well."
"I've got a little left in me." Didier says, and with a touch, focusing his energy on the canine. Ozark yips as Didier's fiery energy courses through the wolf's veins, cauterizing its wounds and spreading healing warmth throughout.
"Much obligied, Didier." Treetopper replies to the Frenchie after he heals Ozark. "Let's get moving as soon as we can. It would be better to sleep in a bed."
He pulls out the pouch of bandit's ammunition. He pulls out and reloads the last two cartridges in his revolver.
Zort takes off his jacket, uses it like a blanket, then lies down and looks up at the stars.
"Suppose I sold enough of my wares that I had some unhappy customers. Not that my elixirs don't work, mind you. Some folks expectations are too grande, a testament of the human imagination. Now, o' course maybe I had something to do with building those expectations in the first place." Zort briefly pictures himself standing atop the jockey box of his wagon, reciting his sales pitches.
Zort tries to find the North Star but has some trouble. He traces his hand in the air in a desultory fashion.
"They couldn't hang me cuz I ain't done nothing wrong. So I'm here now as a punishment o' sorts. Exile maybe. Death by deputization," Zort says.
Gus, nearby in nest in Zort's hat, snuggles in for the night.
"What about you, bearder? Where's a dwarf learn to handle a rifle the way you do?"
"Indeed, a night in a bed would do us well."
Didier listens to the goblin and dwarf exchange stories as he cooks the evening meal. When he finishes cooking he sits down and shares a bit of his own story.
"I am sure you have all surmised that I come from the old world, France in particular. That isn't actually the case, though both my parents are French, and I was raised speaking the tongue, I was actually born in St. Louis. I'm the bastard of a bastard, grandson of nobility, and nobody has any use for a bastard. So, once I grew up, I got out, and made my way in the west, cooking and playing guitar and violin for miners, drovers, and railroaders. Had to sell the instruments to get my wagon and mules, though."
Dolgren shrugs, with a wry smile. "Four score and some years of practice will improve anything! I have been in battle more often than I care to remember: Bull Run, Manassas, Gettysburg..." He shivers slightly. "I pledged to protect the Union and we did, at no small cost in blood. Friends I had, good friends I lost. So it goes."
He glances at Didier. "A shame indeed to no longer have your instruments; perhaps music would have soothed the savage beast!"
Dolgren fishes around in his pack for his compass and takes bearings. He shakes his head at Zort. "The other direction, methinks. Let us press on."
"Maybe the Leventons can order some new instruments. I agree with Dolgren, music would accompany the majesty of the scenery quite well." Treetopper offers.
The rest of the day after the battle with the balck wolf creature passes uneventfully.
The fourth day of their journey back to Fort Laramie is all crossing the plains. The going is certainly faster than it was in the forest, but it's also a hell of a lot more boring. The day passes with the marshals making their way across the endless tufts of frozen grass. They camp for the night knowing that they should make the Fort by noon the next day if all goes well.
During the night while Zort is keeping watch, he hears a strange noise. It is the unmistakeable sound of a female wailing. The sound is coming across the plain from outside the circle of his darkvision. It is a cloudy, windy night and Zort can't tell exactly where it's coming from.
Zort remembers the last time he heard a cry like that one. He patted his mother's head while she held two stillborn pups. There ain't no consoling a woman who's crying like that.
Zort walks over to the others, kicking their feet, while repeating: "Wake up, wake up, wake up."
Zort stops for a moment, keeping quiet so the others can hear the crying. "Hear that? Let's find her. I can't tell where she is."
Dolgren blearily comes to; it's been a long day and he values his sleep. "What say you? A cry?" He listens keenly.
Treetopper awakes pulling his revolver by instinct as he stands looking around beyond the sleep in his eyes. When he hears the wailing, he thinks it odd. "That's weird. Is there anything dangerous that uses that sound to ambush?"
Ozark the pillow sniffs and stands up.
It's definitely unusual. One does not often find people out on these plains, much less a woman at night. There were no houses or farmsteads here when they passed by a few days ago.
The sound is clear to hear, but it's beyond the reach of the group's darkvision. Treetopper thinks it's coming from the west.
"I have not the faintest idea what may be in this region; let us be on our guard." Dolgren checks that his rifle is fully loaded and that the action is working properly.
"Shall we proceed, with caution?"
He follows Treetopper's lead, keeping a wary eye out.
Didier blindly picks his way along behind his night-sighted companions.
Zort traces an noncanonical constellation, looking a lot like two short humanoids holding hands, with his hand. Feeling his arm beginning to grow numb, he drops it back down to his side.
Lying on the ground, next to this campfire with friends nearby, Zort is tempted to succumb to the heaviness of his eyes. He can't remember the last time he could sleep without relying on Gus as a watch-rat. Gus would squeak an alarm at almost anything, even at the sound of a small bird or an owl. Now while splitting the watch with others, Zort can finally get real rest.
A curiosity needing an answer keeps him awake. "Dolgren," Zort begins, slipping both arms under his jacket serving as a blanket, "Why did you fight for humans? Either side? Leave human business to be settled amongst themselves, I always say. I can't imagine you had an interest in the freedom of all gobkind."
=========================================================================== =============
What kind of wilds is this? Plagued by bandits and wolves and forest children and weepings in the night. I'd sooner burn it all. Zort brings up the rear, behind Didier.
Gus sits in the front pocket of Zort's jacket. Zort lifts up the jacket fold and whispers, "Whacha' say, Gus? Think we stumblin' right to a trap?" Gus responds with a gesture that can almost be interpreted as a shrug. "Yeah, me neither," Zort says.
"Frenchie, do you want to stay by the fire if you don't have a torch?" Treetopper will lead a circuit around a circle with an 80 foot radius centered on the fire. Didier should be visible in the firelight at almost any distance.
"That might be a good idea." Didier says. He stoops and grasps about on the ground, eventually finding a small rock. He makes a few gestures in the dark, speaking a few words in hushed tones and the rock suddenly begins to glow like a torch. The Frenchman hands it to Treetopper and says, "Keep it in pouch or something to block the light, but pull it out and throw it if you need a signal. I'll be watching and listening." With that he picks his way back to the fire.
Dolgren is silent for a while, considering Zort's question. "I was born on the same day as the human nation. The priests of Him Under Stone declared that my destiny is linked with it. Hence have I travelled much among humans, offering aid and counsel. The Southron rebels were oathbreakers and traitors - never could I abide such. Thus my decision."
He pauses. "I must admit that I had little regard for the rights of goblinoids, but even so is slavery an abomination in the eyes of Him Under Stone."
'Him Under Stone' is one of the names of Torag, whose true name dwarves avoid saying - it is, after all, holy.
"Good thinking, Didier. And we will keep you in view."
Letting the stealthy ones do the scouting, Dolgren hangs back a distance, rifle primed and loaded.
As the three marshals with darkvision try to follow the noise into the darkness. They can hear the noise growing louder as they close in, but then it suddenly stops.
A moment later a globe of fire the size of a wagon wheel appears around Treetopper.
Fail
Flaming spheres, eh? We're dealing with somebody that's walked The Way.
"Move forward, we can outrun these fires," Zort says loud enough for his companions to hear.
Zort continues moving in the direction of the noises and then draws his revolver.
"We means no harm," Zort yells. Well, probably not. Now we might. "Just looking to help the weepin' lady is all."
Dolgren frowns. He's not so sure there ever was a weeping lady - this feels like another of those fey tricks to him.
He holds back, ready to duck if another of those firebursts comes his way.
Treetopper screams in pain and hustles back to the campfire, "screw this." Ozark follows on his heels.
The flaming sphere rolls towards Dolgren.
He dodges out of its way.
Dolgren and Zort see a humanoid creature has the legs of a bald goat, a completely hairless body, and a horned head with a sinister expression hiding in the tall grass nearby.
What the hells is that? Zort digs into his spell pouch. I'd rather figure that out while he's unconscious.
"Blast it to death, bearder," Zort says.
Zort begins casting a soporific spell.
Dolgren carefully takes aim at the thing, and fires.