Lotham looks at Nathan. "I think our way, for now, lies with Golden Ram and these negotiations. What is this gathering army? Perhaps we should hear their side of the story as well"
"I think fighting on the side of stability would be good. If the fort has been here as long as it seems to be, these are invaders. More information about them would be good. I would like to spend the rest of today speaking with their oldest storytellers and elders here and then move on to the meeting tomorrow.", Nathan then sits back down after stating his views and continues with his leather work while listening to any other questions.
Day 4 - Late Afternoon
As the new of the impending raiders spreads through the camp, people take time to prepare. Golden Ram sends out goatling scouting parties. Though unable to fortify their village, they move things around and make other precautions. As the flurry of activity increases, everyone shouts and points to the sky. You see a figure mounted on a griffon flying swiftly towards the camp. A white peace banner flies from the tip of a lance. The goatlings assembled beneath seem to respect it and hold their javelins in check.
The griffon and its rider spiral in a loop and then descend in a hovering slow drop to the ground which kicks up a cloud of dust and debris. Several dozen armed goatlings surround the rider. A man dismounts and waits for the dust to settle. He appears to wear light armor and is equipped with sword, bow and lance. He has a worn and weathered look bout him, but his features are sharp and could indicate elven ancestry somewhere. Golden Ram emerges from his lodge and moves to meet the man among all the commotion. Golden Ram takes a moment and utters a spell. They have a brief conversation and disappear into the lodge. Everyone stands around in a state of confusion. Word spreads quickly that the bold visitor is Marshal Hawke from the dwarven fort. He was not supposed to arrive until a day later, at a designated neutral meeting place at the border. The man's griffon sits stoically eyeing the crowd which gives it a healthy space.
Their meeting must have been very brief. Hawke emerges from the lodge shortly thereafter and scans the assembled crowd of goatlings and all of the collected children of Goodwin. He seems to sigh inwardly and swiftly mounts his mighty griffon and they wheel into the sky its wings kicking up more dust and dirt. Soon then are gone.
Golden Ram steps from his lodge again and speaks to a few assistants. Some of his elders are with him. He approaches the group and addresses Tolhemia and all of the children og Goodwin.
"Our visitor was Head Marshal Hawke from Cliffort. Our meeting tomorrow was preempted by news that the army of giants and their allies are moving more quickly than before. Griffon riders have spotted hell hound scouts infiltrating our lands. Several forest fires already burn. The Thain is moving quickly to secure the region of Cliffort. All logging and mining camps have been notified, evacuating, and they are moving to take refuge within the walled confines of Cliffort. According to Hawke, given the recent circumstances, the Thain has reluctantly decided to allow the goatlings and the newcomers to also take refuge within the walls of Cliffort, if they are willing to pledge and fight with the dwarves against oncoming scourge."
"Hawke explained that history shows that occasionally the giants will plunder and pillage south from their lands into this region, but that they are usually easy to dispatch or drive off. This however appears to be much more, an organized effort to march a large force out into these lands with a specific goal. He guesses that the giants remained hidden and organizing with their allies in the lands of black ice to the north, within the caves, tunnels and deep underground warrens under the glaciers. They may be driven by a longstanding hatred with the dwarves, although Hawke I believe suspects there may be another hidden reason."
"Personally, I believe this to be a sign, one that we have been seeking, and one that unite our people together against a common foe. My warriors and I will join the dwarves, humans and their allies, and meet these invaders in battle. Our people will take refuge in the fort, and we will prepare for battle!"
At that moment the mighty war drums thunder and the great battle horns that you heard at the Ceremony of the Lake are sounded. The noise shakes the earth and heavens, nearly deafening you and scaring the wits out of you.
"Our village will pack now, and leave soon, we will will make the journey tonight and take refuge at the fort. Your people are welcome too. Hawke notes that the Thain would prefer you keep a lower profile, particularly the most monstrous of you, but that you will be armed and equipped if able, to assist in the fight. He personally noted that he could make use of any of the bravest groups to act as strike forces against the giants, and any advance units of the enemy. Whatever your choice will be, this village will be abandoned soon. I must now prepare."
Golden Ram turns abruptly and goes with his elders to prepare his people for the exodus.
Tolhemia and many of the others stand there briefly, then a cacophony of voices erupts at once, and people start running hastily to grab what few possessions they have. Tolhemia gathers about her a few of her closest advisors and advises them to gather everyone into groups for the journey.
Tolhemia addresses those still assembled. "So, fate once again steers us. Perhaps this will take us closer to our goal. It certainly puts us with the dwarves and access to information, although in the madness that is sure to follow it may be a challenge to investigate any leads. I will work my best to keep our people safe."
"I wonder where Jovar is right now. I could use it's assistance."
Nathan at one part of the day before all the chaos began you were able to sit down with several older goatlings, and attempt to ferret some old tales out of them. With your budding proficiency in goatling and by using comprehend languages, you manage to get across the idea you wish to hear about very old stories, in particular for this area, as you know that Jovar intended to place the evacuation as near as possible to the temple where Goodwin's friend Kao Lor resided. Given that the plane shift contains a margin of error of several hundred miles, you need to pinpoint possibilities of a ten thousand year old temple, or its buried ruins, or at least a clue to the fate of its inhabitants.
One of the Elders begins with a tale, explaining that the events described occurred a long time ago, before the goatling people were even in this area, but it is a history shared by all on this world. One of great evil and sorrow.
"...and the legends say that a powerful evil rose from the dark spirit lands, it crept forth to the world of the living and swept across the lands like a shadow, seas turned to blood, fire fell from the sky, mountains crumbled, nations were slaughtered and empires fell. The great works of the peoples turned to dust, and a long period of darkness fell, before the shadow was driven away. During that time the world was cold, the sky darkened and ice formed in many places. Much of that ice remains in higher altitudes and regions of the world. The so called black ice, because it trapped much volcanic ash and dust to turn it black. Some say that the mountains north of here contain black glaciers of this ice. After the darkness was driven away, the races of light once again flourished, but they knew that the darkness would return some day."
"I've got no problem with being on the front lines, unless anyone has a better plan to put us to work?" Eleanor says once her group has gathered.
Lotham nods slowly. "We are well fitted for such a task. I would sooner try to bring about an understanding between the two parties, as we hope to do for the goatlings. However..." he pauses, lost in thought. "Goodwin's time with us, and it's results, makes me want to believe that these invaders could be brought to goodness. It has been so long since I have seen evil that I have forgotten that some do choose it. Goodwin had to take us captive and spend years upon years in retraining each of us to change our hearts. We do not have the same power or resources to deal with these invaders."
He stands. "To war." He makes the proclamation softly, reluctantly.
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Nathan thanks the elders and returns to the rest of the group. "I have spoken with some of the elders. It sounds like there was a catastrophe long ago and that all was destroyed even mountains so finding this temple may be very difficult. This is the tale I heard..." Nathan then repeats the tale as told by the elders.
Upon hearing the news of the giants, "The black ice again. We may need to investigate that region some ourselves. I say we act as a strike force against these foes. Take the fight to them and lessen the blow against the city. What say the rest of you? I'm not exactly one to let the fight come to me if I have a choice. Let use choose the ground where we meet the enemy."
"I am with you three on this. We would likely unnerve the defenders anyway, so let us contribute in a more proactive manner. Perhaps the goatlings and dwarves can learn to get along better this way, and our diplomatic goals can sort themselves out."
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I am ill suited for diplomacy or redeeming. However, I am well suited to destroying the evil that arises. I agree with Lotham, to war."
"Seems we're all in agreement."
Nathan nods to the group, "I will let Tolheimia know our decision."
He then heads off to find Tolheimia and advise her that are group wishes to aid by being a strike force against the invaders and if she would let those know who need to so we can be of the most use.
"Greetings Nathan, it is good to see you. Thank you for letting me know of your plans. We all plan to leave tonight yet, but a group this large is slow in moving. Here take this token, Hawke gave some to Golden Ram. Show it to the guards when you arrive at Cliffort to ensure safe entry. You will probably arrive well before us. I do not know what it will be like there and how we will be greeted or accommodated. Good luck and be safe in your missions. I know your group to be capable and true of heart."
Nathan takes the token from Tolheimia. "Thank you. May we all do our father proud."
He then returns to the group and advises, "Tolheimia has given us a token to give the guards at Cliffort. Being a smaller group we will probably get there before the main group. Let us gather our meager belongs and get going. OK?"
Will the group depart then? Immediately? Travel with any of the other groups, the goatlings or Tolhemia's group?
Lotham nods. "Yes, we should make haste."
"Agreed, I think we'll move faster on our own." Eleanor adds.
"Lotham if you will take the lead I'll bring up the rear and keep far watch with my bow."
Day 4 late afternoon
Your group leaves the village, gathering what supplies and equipment the goatlings gave you. You head back towards the river on the trail you came in on, and reach the river in time. At the river you begin going south, trying to get to the fort in time, although you know it will be after dark when you arrive.
As you pass from the rugged hills and canyons, they soften a bit, rolling and more forested, here these must be the lands where the mining and logging operations work for the dwarves and human nation. In time you pick up trails used by these logging and mining camps. Many of they recently well travelled as you suspect many are exiting and taking temporary refuge in the fort. The interruption in goods downstream is sure to be noticed by someone, you can't help but wonder if the invading giants force is large enough or their presence lengthy and disruptive enough that a large army wouldn't appear from the supporting nation. Unless those armies are otherwise occupied. Sadly you know little to nothing of the politics in the region.
You travel well after dark hoping to catch a glimpse of your destination and indeed, before darkness fell, in some open areas you were able to see the lights and fires on the fort down in the valley in the distance.
You pressed on and in time reached a spot where the forest has been cut back and the brush along the river less except in a few spots.
You approach, and see the chaos of the fort. Many refuges are here, trying to board and cross into the lake village beneath the fort, however the only way is to be ferried over on barges. The bottleneck has people lined up along the shore waiting for their turn.
The river has widened here and flows to the east now rather than to the south. To the northeast and southeast the land rises steeply into a bowl. That bowl contains a large lake. A tall and thick wall on both sides of the river, runs to the cliff-side on the north side of the river, and on the south it stretches east out of sight in the darkness. Watch fires illuminate some of the lands outside the wall, and it looks like an old quarry, the source of the stone for the wall.
It is hard to see beyond the wall to the lake, what little you see is through the gap on the rivermouth as it opens into the lake. This mouth, where the wall separates is flanked by two huge guard towers. On the towers, humans and dwarves can be see manning various sized ballistas. Archers and crossbowmen patrol the walls and man the towers. In the darkness you can see that the cliffside with rises vertically north of the lake side has become part habitation. Edifices have been carved into and built onto the side of the cliff. Many more details are hard to see in the night with only distant lanterns to reveal things.
Nathan looks at the crowds and frowns. "We need to not cause a panic and approach the fort. Darkness works in our favor to keep their eyes off of us, but the guards may see us as enemies. Maybe we can get off the path and approach the wall away from the people and talk to one of the guard-towers. Does anyone else speak Celestial?"
"Finally some civilization!" Eleanor exclaims peering off into the distance.
Lotham slowly shakes his head at Nathan's question. He looks at Eleanor. "Perhaps you could go first, and prepare them for us? Would you feel safe doing that?"
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Eleanor shrugs. "That's fine Lotham, but I don't think it's that precaution is necessary."
You watch for a bit from the cover of darkness. The boarding area is well illuminated by torches, braziers and even some magical light. Patrols of heavily armed and armored dwarves move about, armed with a variety of weapons, heavy crossbow, hammers, axes, pikes, shields, and picks. Orchestrating the efforts and working with the groups are cloaked figures, humans in charge of interviewing and getting the various groups to the barges, with their animal teams and supplies. A small army of dockworkers swarms everywhere shouting and moving cargo to and fro. Mule teams and even some small block and tackle like cranes are employed for some of the heavier cargo and larger barges. In all of the chaos it seems there is organization and efficiency.
You suspect you will have to present yourselves at some point. Eleanor could attract the attention of one of the cloaked marshals, who you recall wears a similar outfit to that of Head Marshal Hawke who visited the goatling village. If you were to bring a marshal to the group, you may stave off panic by your group of humanoids monstrous or otherwise walking in to the loading area.
"I think it may be. Who knows what rumors the common folk have heard about us--if they've heard anything at all."
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After watching the goings on at the entrance, Nathan speaks up, "Eleanor, would you go up and approach one of the marshals and bring them back here? Show them the token and wave them to follow you if you can't communicate with them. I can cast comprehend languages on you, so you can understand them at least, but it will only last twenty minutes."
"I'll do what I can." Eleanor answers. Eleanor searches for an area visible to the tower that won't draw attention from the masses as planned.
Eleanor approaches one of the marshals as they are herding people around and getting things organized. You wave to flag him down and at first he sort of waves you off as if busy, then pauses a moment as he sees your attire and equipment. He nods and finishes what he is doing shouting some orders at some loggers and their teams of horses, then he and two other marshals approach you. They do not have weapons drawn but seem wary. One of them presents a wand, and motions at you, his mouth and makes a speaking motion as if he wishes to cast a spell from the wand on you.
"I accept." Eleanor says with a nod.
The marshal invokes the wand and he places a hand on you, and says "OK there, you will share our language for 24 hours. Have you come alone or with others, and do you have the token Hawke gave you?"
Eleanor fetches the token for the Marshals. "There are four others that draw a bit more attention then I do."
"Indeed, Ok. We have been briefed on the possibility. Have them come forth." One of them shouts out, "No one be alarmed! We are not under attack. Carry on with your tasks!" You aren't sure if that was the best approach, as more people look over or up from what they are doing, but maybe they know what they are doing.
Hearing the shouting, Lotham cautiously approaches the gathering.
Seeing Lotham step out a rumble goes through the crowd, there are some gasps and some consternation, but the marshals just sort of purse their lips and nod. "Alright then. Call the rest out."
Lotham shouts over his shoulder, "Come Nathan, Greebins, Rechau."
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Greebins steps out.
Nathan steps out, bow slung, holy symbol out on his chest. He smiles and waves as he is looked upon by those gathered. He calls out to the marshals in celestial, "Hello! Where would you like us to wait?" He seems a little tense as if he is expecting a rain of arrows or boulders.
Rechau shrugs and follows, he wasn't particularly interested in whether they reacted to him or not.
The rest of the group assembles and the marshals nod, a bit wide eyed, but perhaps maybe a bit more used to interacting with strange creatures than the average person on the street.
The rest of the crowd in the back react further as the huge Nathan steps out. Some dwarves shout in protest as they see Rechau. Luckly for Greebins, most people like cats, at least when compared to ogres or hobgoblins.
The marshals don't see to respond to your greeting in Celestial. They do turn to Eleanor. "We have been instructed to get your people over to the other side sooner rather than later, as you can see the ... commotion it causes. We don't want you waiting in line to cross, even though pushing you to the front is likely to cause some griping. You have some big fellows so we will need to get you more than a rowboat." One of the marshals peels off and jogs over to the docking area and into the commotion of people loading and filing onto the boats. He speaks to the people working and orchestrating the efforts there and after some discussion returns.
"We have a space for you on a fishing boat, it isn't very large as the fishing in the lake doesn't support larger boats, but you will all comfortably fit on it. You will smell like fish when you disembark though."
The marshals lead you to the dock area and the crowd of people part and press back. Though they don't complain openly directly at you, you get the sense of their grumbling as you board ahead of them. The marshals try to convince the people that there is room on the fishing boat, but no one is willing to travel with you. Even the fishing boat captain seems concerned, standing nearby wringing his hands. The crew loads the boat with cargo instead. Only one volunteer steps from the crowd to join the passage. A middle aged woman, hair greying at the edges, and tied in a long braid steps toward the boat. She wears the heavy clothes of a logger, and her hands are calloused and gnarled. She doesn't appear particularly stout or strong, but must work in the logging camps. She sits on the deck of the boat with her arms around her knees and watches the group quietly. She has a simple back and a woodcutting axe, and a few hatchets. Continuing to stare at the group, particularly Nathan, she reaches into her shirt and pulls out a symbol, displaying a symbol of Sarenrae. Saying nothing, she tips her head back to the rail and closes her eyes tiredly.
The fishing boat eventually casts off, the rope unhitched from the mooring, and the current pulls the boat toward the entrance gap between the towers. Sails and rudder steer as the captain and nervous crew work around the group.
Nathan smiles at the woman walks toward her and sits nearby. He blesses her in Sarenrae's name in celestial and then pulls his mug out and casts create water and offers her the mug to drink. He then taps his chest and says, "Nathan."
If she responds in anything other than celestial, Nathan puts a hand up, politely to stall her and casts comprehend languages, from his cleric spells for the day.
Greebins smiles when he sees the woman display the symbol of Sarenrae, then finds a comfortable place to spread out and relax and enjoy the smell of fish.
The woman opens her eyes as she hears Nathan thumping across the deck. She looks up, a mix of quizzical concern. She repeats several blessing back in Celestial, typical Sarenrae creeds, but then appears to switch to what you have identified now as the Common tongue of the era. She takes the proffered mug while Nathan casts his spell. Two handing the giant sized cup she guzzles thirstily at the clear pure water.
"Ahhhhh." She responds as she dribbles some of it down her front and wipes her mouth with the back of her leathery hand.
His spell complete, she restarts "Thank you Nathan, can you understand me? You are an ogre right? Nathan doesn't sound like an ogre name, aren't you normally called Thag and Blargh and Krag? Not that I know much about ogres I must admit. How come you to worship and serve the Dawnflower? Sorry for so many questions, forgive this old woman's ramblings, I am tired."
Nathan nods at the woman and answers in celestial, "I would tell you the story but I don't think you understand celestial and I can't speak your language, but I can understand you due to my spell."
She replies, "Well I learned some of the sayings in the temple for Sarenrae, but I never did learn the full language. This might be a bit one sided. 'Tis a shame, I imagine you have quite a unique background. have you ever eaten anyone? Every tale I ever heard talks about ogres eating people or skinning them alive. How about your minotaur friend? He looks rather vicious. No, I suppose you haven't. I get that feeling that you are different. Oh my, this impending attack sure has things messed up. Maybe it's time for these old bones to retire somewhere safer. The forest is all I know though, I know how to cut trees. I've no family. Where would I go, what would I do? Nathan, some days I am just so tired." She closes her eyes a bit and seems to be thinking.
As the woman talks, the boat approaches the gap between the two massive guard towers that keep watch over the opening to the lake. The river is wider here and slower moving, but flows strongly into the artificial lake. The boat's captain waves up to the guards, who have a huge mirrored spotlight on the group. You hear a loud clank as something big and metallic in the towers moves, followed by the sound of gears and heavy chains moving. Something in the water churns and moves ahead and then beneath the boat as it passes through the gap.
Once through, the sound repeats and you look back and the water churns again. The guards on the towers with crossbows, ballistas, and an arsenal of weapons keeps an eye on you, and your boat is met by one of the many patrol boats in the harbor as you enter.
Inside now, on the lake proper, which you see is entirely walled to the south, where on the southern banks you see the dim lights of the settlement there. The north is surounded by the high cliff, its cliffside apartments evident, and beneath the north shore village, illuminated by torches and lanterns. The lake is crowded with many boats of all sizes and you see a sizable log jam clustered to the south, appearing as a dark blob on the waters of the lake in the moonlight after your eyes adjust again once the spotlight takes its beam off of you.
The patrol boat escorts the fishing boat to a berth in the dock area.
"This place never ceases to amaze me Nathan. There is a lot of money that comes here, this place is very important to the area and the kingdom. Thain Ironfist is aptly named, for he does rule with an Ironfist, but he does his job well. I have only seen him once, and he didn't strike me as a friendly fellow, but I guess its not his job to be everyone's friend."
Once the boat is secured, dockworkers wait apprehensively to unload the cargo, preferring it seems that the passengers exit first.
Marshals, dressed in the same dark cloaks that the marshals at the loading area wore, approach the boat and take account of the group.
"I am Marshal Averleen. Who is your spokesperson?" As you exit the fishing boat the the dock workers board to unload it, the three marshals 'greet' you. Marshal Averleen has short mousy hair, and a short stature. Flanking her are two blond hair marshals, who could be brothers, their bushy beards and eyebrows obscuring their ages.
A large unit of heavily armored dwarves stands down the dock a bit, crossbows, pikes and an array of other weapons at hand, should something abnormal happen. There is some tension in the air.
The woman steps from the boat. "Averleen, these are good people, don't go so hard on them." She turns to Nathan, "I never told you my name, its Malka. I am staying with friends in town, and I need my beauty rest." she laughs at her own joke. "I may not see you and your companions again, but who knows? Good luck. " She reaches up to shake Nathans ogrish hand. "Now that is a story I can tell over drinks, how I shook an ogre's hand. " She bows and utters a farewell that is typical to Sarenrae worshippers to Nathan and Greebins and walks off down the pier her meager belongings in tow. She pauses briefly to talk to the dwarves, two of whom peel off the group and escort her into town. Apparently even regulars get some scrutiny.
Marshal Averleen raises an eyebrow as she waits for the group.
Greebins offers the woman a bow and returns the familiar sounding farewell, then nimbly steps off the boat.
Nathan gladly shakes Malka's hand with a smile and blesses her. He waves to her as she walks off.
He looks at Marshal Averleen and speaks to her in celestial "Elanor was the first to make contact with the marshalls as we felt she would make less of a stir than I or Lotham. I can currently understand you due to a spell, but will not be able to soon. I can serve as spokesperson if you have a way to communicate otherwise I don't know how we will be able to."
The Marshal listens to Nathan but shakes her head. "I think you are speaking Celestial, but alas I do not know it. Precious few of us do, although I believe Head Marshal Hawke is quite fluent in it". Marshal Averleen turns to Eleanor, "As spokesperson, advise your fellows that we will escort you into the fort, where you will be quartered for the evening."
Marshal Averleen appears short with mousy brown hair, and dark eyes. Accompanying her are two other marshals who look so similar as to be brothers. They have short cropped blond hair and large bushy beards and eyebrows.
"If you will follow us."
She motions down the pier to the streets, dark at this hour, but the docks and some of the streets appear to be lit by torchlight, lanterns or even in some rare cases magical everburning flame.
The dark wall of the cliff side fort looms high over the small village nestled at its feet.
Eleanor translates to those that do not have the aid of magic to understand.
She follows as instructed and says. "Thank you for accommodating us marshal."