"At least everyone is alright, do you have any idea what these things are or why they attacked us?" Eleanor asks the golem.
@Champawat: "I don't think having everyone travel together is a good idea. We will consume too much resources, just like an army, and be too little flexible. Different groups can do a lot more different things. We can also search much faster if we split up. Finding Goodwin should be our number one priority. As for why we came here, I came at least to see if I could help out. I didn't come for prisoners, if we wanted that we could have just healed the goatlings with us. I just rushed here as soon as I was able. We heard the sound of battle and thought we might be able to do so. It's not hard to spot an army, no doubt they followed us from our original site."
Xanya finally finishes mixing her potion and drinks it. Then she turns rides up to the goatling, points to her ears, then point to it's mouth, trying to make it understand in sign language that she can understand it. She then makes a rolling motion with her hand in front of her mouth to symbolize speech. "Xanya" She says and thumps her chest, hoping it'll at least tell her it's name.
Gunther frowns at Xanya's supposition, though he sees her point. "Even still, this place ain't half as safe as we figured," he retorts. "We risk bein' overrun if we don't at least stick t'gether until we can get some damned clothes, at th' least."
Quassine stops his intimidation and lets Xanya in since now she can better interact with the goatlings with her extract and replies after Gunther, "I agree with Xanya. In addition to what she had mentioned, moving as an army may attract even more unwanted attention in larger numbers. As we continue to move out, it will be harder to track us in smaller groups as we become further and further apart. The goatlings already had to separate their forces to attack us and it appears to have made them weaker. And if we do find a town or community, maybe they will be more willing to let us in as a smaller group instead than an Army. Force multiplier works better as a community than when on the move"
The goatling is somewhat taken aback by Quassine's display. Xanya casts her spell and motions to the goatling.
The goatling responds touching itself "Rahaan. Can you understand me?"
Jovar responds to Eleanor in his flat artificial voice, his multiple eyes scanning everything around him constantly. "We do not yet, but our group like yours has made use of language magic, and we really only know that they are a tribal people, and pride themselves on battle. I had to leave with this group before I could learn much more. Tolheimia will have more information when I return. Since everything appears ok here, Eleanor, we are going to continue quickly to the other camps. If anyone has a message to relay say so now. If any wish to accompany us, please do."
Eleanor thinks for a moment. "I'll come, I wish to know what if anything the others may have learned."
Xanya nods vigorously, hoping that the sign means the same thing to the goatling. "Xanya understand" She tries to mimic the word the Goatling said. She then continues her hand motion to make the goatling continue to talk. She wants to talk to the golem as well, but she doesn't want to interrupt trying to understand the goatling.
Finding master is not a priority any where near the top of the list. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to be rescued by us while the other half die in the process. If someone as powerful as master is in trouble, those as weak as us will not be able to rescue him. Fish don't kill bears, they get eaten by them.
The goatmen obviously had enough resources to dispatch multiple forces to deal with our groups individually. Once they realize that didn't work, they'll send one large force to deal with one group at a time.
We have no shelter to defend ourselves behind. No safe place to rest, no place to tend to the injured, no place to stockpile supplies, we have no home.
This army doesn't need to be moved, it needs to be housed. We have enough available hands to find, hunt, and grow food. We have enough practitioners of magic able to summon water that it's not a concern. The goatmen did not weaken themselves by splitting up, we did. The goatman have a home, that is why they can afford to send out multiple raiding parties.
The goatman attacked us on site. What makes you believe that any number of us will be welcome at any cities in these lands?
Even if we rescue master, what then? You think he takes us all home to live out the rest of our days in peace? No, those days are gone. This is our life now. We must start acting like it. We must start by concentrating the only forces we have...each other.
The goatling nods at Xanya. "What will you do with me?"
Jovar listens to all that Champawat had to say, in addition Ania, Borthas, Klimdon and Shiepas all nod. Ania speaks, her voice is raspy and powerful. "Champawat, it is true. Our camp works well, despite having so many. We sent hunters out to gather and scout last night, and so many hands we were able to build shelters. The battle interrupted our plans, but we intend to keep all those safe who would travel with us. All are welcome always. We will respect the wishes of those who wish to travel abroad and are eager to find clues of Master's fate."
Klimdon nods and growls "I too wish to go out into the world and rescue Master, but I must protect my kin. Master would want it so."
"Me will understand you." Xanya says, trying to mimic the unfamiliar words. Then she changes the grip on her lance and starts drawing in the dirt. She draws a circle, symbolizing the lake, a couple lines supposed to be the river and several jagged lines supposed to be the mountains. "Rahaan?" She says in a questioning tone and points to the map.
"I agree with you. It'd be good for everyone to have a place to come back to until they can find Goodwin. I will stay here with you and help build our new home."
Simon smiles(slightly more flirtishly than is strictly neccesary, but that's just who he is) and sets a hand on Champawat's shoulder.
The goat looks at the crude map and then points at himself. "Rahaan." He points at you "Zaaan-yaa"
He studies the symbols for a bit. "Hmmmmmm. Is this a map?" He takes a stick and wipes out your map and draws a slightly more elaborate one, now that he understands your concept.
"My brothers and I live below the river, but we come to this plateau for the Ceremony of the Lake. We seek to prove ourselves as warriors, and as spirits from the sky, we thought you were sent by our ancestors to test us in battle. But you are not sky spirits are you?" He looks at you quizzically.
Quassine nods to Champawat, "Perhaps you are correct, then we should separate into (2) larger groups? Those who want to create a garrison and those who want to find Master Goodwin. That way, by the time the searchers find Master Goodwin, the Garrison will be built and established. Or perhaps the searchers go out now until they need to regroup, come back to garrison and the next group goes out? If a permanent garrison is made, then we need to make sure to have a mobile alternative because no fortress is impenetrable. If the plan is to make it here, then we better make friends with the locals starting with the goatlings."
Xanya nods to his question about if it is a map and looks on eagerly as he draws. Once he is done explaining she shakes her head. "We are not sky spirits." She manages to pierce together from his words, though probably with the wrong form of the verb for the pronoun. She holds one hand on top of the other as a symbol for time-out, hoping he understands then looks up at the others and says in common. "They are not locals here Quassine. They live below the river and came here to prove themselves to their ancestors. For the record I think splitting up in two huge groups is an exceptionally bad idea. It'll be really hard to get anything done if travelling as an army. Smaller bands should work great. There is really nothing here to come back for, well unless the people who remains find something I guess, with Jovar communicating between us, the groups seeking out Goodwin should be operate without having to seek out the others or come back since they can still coordinate searching. Of course this place could then work as a communication hub, coordinating the various groups out and about. I am of no mind to remind idle here and build shelters. I will accomplish great things. Finding and rescuing Goodwin might be a tall task, but I will learn to grow with the task and eventually accomplish it. Doing so will be easier out in the world than here. Now, I'll try to see if I can't get more information from the Rahaan."
After her nearly angry tirade Xanya turns back to Rahaan."Sky spirit is Kao Lor?" she starts by asking for the man they were looking to find. Maybe the goatling knows him as a sky spirit. Then she gets another idea and starts pointing to the points outside the map, down the river where supposedly the village of the goatlings is and says. "What?"
"Actually Xanya, this place has the basic resouces needed, water, food and wood, so building a place to return to, should we ever need one, would be wise, this place is also rather save, beside the goatman, it is far away from any settlement, so its unlikely anyone would bother them here. But traveling in small groups is better, if we are too many we will be noticed more easiely and make it more likely that whoever of Goodwins enemys is still alive will know of us bevore we are ready."
The goatling furrows his bushy brow as he is not understanding your words or symbols very well. He stands and watches the interchange between people talking with a mix of bemusement and puzzlement. "Rahaan would ask what the conflict is among your people, but sadly I cannot understand your words, even though your sky magic allows you to understand me. There, past the edge of the mountains down the river we live in the hills. That is our lands, though we come to this sacred plateau and lake every year for the Ceremony of the Lake. Down the river live dwarves and humans in a mighty cliffside fort. They have a lake they dam up and harvest timber and float it down stream to the lake. Our leader Golden Ram (here he makes a symbol of reverence) has brokered a truce between our peoples, although many of us would prefer battle as it is our way. I am sorry; I am talking too much? I must ask, are you here for evil purposes, I see that you surround yourself in a shadow of darkness. This attracts bad spirits." he nods as if this is a matter of fact.
Simon is listening to Xanya and goaty conversing, extrapolating sentence structure and likely common words from the half he gets and Xanya's responses.
A far more focused and bright side of Simon surfaces as he watches. You can practically see the gears turning.
He steps up, folding his wings in, so as not to spook the poor goat man.
He also makes gestures to convey a point.
"If we untie you."
He point to the bonds.
"You no run away?"
He points to him and shakes his head and then makes a running motion.
"You stay and talk to us?"
He points to him and then the ground for 'you stay' and then makes the talking coyote with his hand for 'talk' and then a sweeping gesture for 'us.'
"I want to learn to talk like you."
He points to himself self then to his head, then talking coyote and then points to him.
Cardau sits and listens as the others communicate with the goat prisoner, trying to learn what he can of the language's structure and how it compares to the languages he knows.
Quassine looks from Champawat to Xanya, "Oh, they live below the River?" Quassine shrugs, "Close enough to strike in individual forces, close enough in my book to be considered local." Quassine looks around, "I am with you Xanya, I am not staying here idle to build a fortress. I prefer to find Master Goodwin and gain experience along the way, and I don't require much from a garrison setting anyway." Quassine listens intently to Xanya speaking to the goatling hoping to learn the language while they speaks.
Champawat gathers her fauchard and wanders off into the forest alone.
"Not evil purpose. Sacred purpose. She tries to explain that they have good intentions, but it's hard when you don't know the world. She then points at the sun then stroke her skin before making a sizzling motion to try to explains that her skin burns from the sun. "Rahaan not talking too much. Rahaan talking." and then she gives a thumbs up, hoping that this gesture is also understood despite it maybe being more culturally meaningful. She also nods her head. "What much Rahaan and Ram?" She asks trying to figure out how many goaatlings there are. "Xanya talking Golden Ram?" She says before suddenly getting the idea to channel to heal the goatlings. "Spirit sacred!" She says as she channels to heal all the wounded.
Her lance casts a shadow on the groud. She points to it and says "Here, Platau" then shows an area where it'll be after the time they need to rest in order to reflect on the battle. "Down talking golden Ram."
Qahnaarin looks to those who desire to stay and erect a permanent shelter, and furrows his eyebrows in disagreement. I am seeking the Master. I have no need to return to a mountain filled with violent, inbred goatlings.
He looks at the shrinking form of Champawat, not liking that sight either. He is too intemperate. We need unity and order.
He approaches Gunther and speaks in a low voice, "Brother Gunther, I believe you and I are of a like mind. What would the Allmaker counsel in this situation? I see division all around me, and it does not bring peace to my soul."
After waking and healing his compatriots, Prar listens in silence to the groups.
"Two larger groups sounds feasible, an away team and a base team." he whispers dryly.
At Quassine's interjection he shuffles up to his kinsman and whispers.
"Stagnation is death brother, we must remain mobile, to find the Master, to aquire information...And power. However have a refuge is appealing in this strange land. A place to house our collected belongings and research."
The goatling feels a little overwhelmed as different people begin to symbolize and talk to him. He states, [b]"I wish to return to my camp and bring my brethren to collect our wounded and dead. May I leave? If you wish to visit the camp you may come along."
Xanya speaks up to everyone. "He wants to take their wounded and go back to their village. He says we can come with him. Honestly I'm fine with it and I want to go with him, but what do you think? Resting a bit first might be a good idea. Also I can only understand him for a few minutes more."
Champawat wanders the forest heading away from the site of the battle for several hours taking the time to hide her tracks before finding a tree to climb up into to give herself time away to think.
You see ahead the goatling that must have fled combat. (You were unconscious but I think may have still been conscious when he fled, either way doesn't matter too much)
Although it had a significant head start time wise, it moves slowly, staggering from tree to tree, and its breathing is labored. Its wounds are quite significant, possibly life threatening if it were to not get aid soon.
Suddenly Xanya gets a brilliant, or insane idea. "I think it's time we split up. It was nice to be able to help out healing you, but now we'll have to part. See you later."
[dice=Perception Champawat]1d20+10
You see ahead the goatling that must have fled combat. (You were unconscious but I think may have still been conscious when he fled, either way doesn't matter too much)
Although it had a significant head start time wise, it moves slowly, staggering from tree to tree, and its breathing is labored. Its wounds are quite significant, possibly life threatening if it were to not get aid soon.
Champawat will try her best to stealthily stalk him until he leads her to some sort of civilization or encampment. Should he appear to collapse or pass out, she will approach it and try to render aid.
Ahh, the hunt, the hunt is on. Finally, something that is familiar, something that is exhilarating. Take your time injured one, there is no rush. We have all the time that we need. All the time that life allows. All the time in the world.
Gunther sighs at Qahnaarin's question. He moves to the center of the group and claps his hands together once to get everyone's attention. "Alright, folks. We had 'nough o' this. We need t' keep movin'."
"Do you guys have any plans on keeping our friend here? We can escort him, if you'd rather be rid of him. I'm going to try to learn their language, so it'd be a help if he could come with us. Up to you guys."
Simon wants to clear up one last thing before they leave.
Quassine leans over to
Quassine looks to Xanya, "Yes, we should go. Shall we escort the wounded goatlings back to their community? This can either go poorly or benefit us tremendously." Quassine nods, "I too want to learn the goatling language. Again, it may benefit us in the future to work on allies as we venture forth to find Master Goodwin."
Champawat will try her best to stealthily stalk him until he leads her to some sort of civilization or encampment. Should he appear to collapse or pass out, she will approach it and try to render aid.
Goatling Perception vs DC 38 - no chance.
Champawat you stay a good 40' behind the goatling, moving slowly and stealthily, your movement masked by the wooshing of the wind through the forest and the soft bed of pine needles. Despite your slowed speed, the wounded goatling also goes slowly, hampered by the forest and its wounds. It pauses frequently to rest and occasionally pauses to sniff the air, but does so haphazardly and seems quite distracted by its wounds. The bleeding has stopped for the most part, but it makes no effort to do anything about its state.
The groups agree to go their separate ways, each gathering some goatlings with them to communicate and discover what exactly is going on. Tensions run high as the recent battle and the plight of their situation sinks in, and the urgency to find their lost master runs through the minds of many vs. the need to survive and defend themselves.
"Yes, let's escort the wounded goatlings back to their camp, or rather have them guide us. At the same time we should learn there language. I too want to learn it."
Looking around after the groups go their separate ways, Gunther runs a hand through his beard as he finds one of their number missing. "Now where did that cat get off to?" he mutters, but doesn't seem particularly worried. Even though they had been nearly bested by the goatlings, Gunther knew Champawat to be stealthy enough to wander off on her own.
"Unless my group is opposed, I say you can take the goatling. You have more use for him it sounds like." He gives each person a handshake as they turn to leave. "Best of luck out there, and stay safe." He shakes Xanya's hand last and leans in to whisper something to her.
Xanya shakes Goivan's hand. "Thank you for your good words. I will try to keep them in mind." She says cheerfully, happy to recive another lecture on goodness. "I should mourn, no be cheerful...." Her words trail off then her mood changes abruptly and she suddenly starts crying. "I get it now. I should mourn for those who have died or suffered."
Goivan gives a big, open smile as it clicks. "Yes, the loss of any life is a tragedy, even if they were your enemy and you did it yourself."
Champawat will try her best to stealthily stalk him until he leads her to some sort of civilization or encampment. Should he appear to collapse or pass out, she will approach it and try to render aid.
[dice=Champawat Stealth]1d20+12
Goatling Perception vs DC 38 - no chance.
Champawat you stay a good 40' behind the goatling, moving slowly and stealthily, your movement masked by the wooshing of the wind through the forest and the soft bed of pine needles. Despite your slowed speed, the wounded goatling also goes slowly, hampered by the forest and its wounds. It pauses frequently to rest and occasionally pauses to sniff the air, but does so haphazardly and seems quite distracted by its wounds. The bleeding has stopped for the most part, but it makes no effort to do anything about its state.
Champawat continues to watch from a safe distance. If it should sit down at a tree, she will scan the area for others before quickly approaching it, falchaud out.
-Champawat
It does eventually sit by a tree and rest.
You circle around and creep up silently.
- no chance
Slipping around the tree you surprise the sitting goatling who is startled, bleating in TERROR.
Aiming your fauchard at it, it throws up its arms and looks pleadingly at you. "Gaatauga, haa-maa, naa taka maaa laaaf. naa taka."
Champawat sits down cross legged and lays her fauchard across her lap, probably within 10 feet of the goatman and holds up her arms. She simply sits with him, almost meditating, almost praying, but searching within herself what she thinks master would want her to do in this situation.
She also tries to see, without getting any closer, if his injuries appear to be life-threatening.
"Let us rest with the night, and travel with the dawn. I do not wish to linger in this place." Qahnaarin is set to join whoever wishes to continue exploring to find civilization.
Gunther nods at the hobgoblin's statement. "I was thinkin' we should stay 'bout a day's march from th' other groups, least until we can get our paws on some clothes an' supplies. Yer right, though, we should move on in th' mornin'." Looking around after he finishes his statement, he sighs. "Did any of ya see where Champawat got off t'? I know she can take care o' herself, but it's gonna be a real pain for all o' us if she ain't back before we break camp."
Champawat as you set the weapon down and meditate peacefully, the goatling sits there breathing hard and watching cautiously. His injuries are grievous, you suspect any intense action could cause the goatling to drop and maybe bleed out. You wish you had a healer kit as dealing with these wounds really requires bandaging and herbs. The goatling bleats what seems like a thankful "Daba." Although you aren't sure you really helped him.
As the group wonders and awaits Champawat, they review the status of the camp. The remaining goatlings look questioningly at the stalwart group. They make some hand motions and while many are wounded, they are all conscious and do not seem bent on violence. Although you have removed their weapons, you know they can hit quite hard with their headbutts and are never truly unarmed.
One of the goatlings approaches Gunther and curiously looks at him and his beard. "Doka, hurhuu. Di naaakaa thaa?"