Jexen does his best to assist Cyrenik in getting the camp moving.
I fear the source of that roar is someone that we have met, if not a familiar face.
I'm tired, Mary complains, trying to rock the baby to sleep. And he's getting heavy. Can we stop? To continue, someone should carry Mary and Jericho. Otherwise, you can set up camp and move out in the morning.
[/dice]
Sköllji snaps out of his daze when he hears the beastial roar and shriek of terror. He follows the group from the rear, club in his good hand.
When Mary begins complaining, Sköllji approaches her. He straps his club to his side and looks at his mangled hand with sorrow in his eyes. "I kennot carry the wee Jericho, but if you'd like to get off your feet, young one, ye ken ride on me back. You'll just have te hand off the littleun."
The dwarf rearranges his pack so that it's strapped to the front so that Mary can hold on.
Carrying the children, you move on through the night.
It's slow going. Most of you can't see in this darkness, and to make matters worse, some clouds pass by and start raining on you for several hours.
Mary tries to stay awake, but after not to long she falls asleep on Sköllji's back. Jexen carries Jericho, and the child finds comfort in the metal arms, staying asleep all night.
Aftet eight hours of hard going through the brush, Kandl leads you successfully northwards, and Jexen manages to discover the path just as the sun starts to come up.
Brinda starts to feel the fatigue from walking all night.
As morning light begins to shine through the leaves, Sköllji turns to the group.
"I get the feelin' whate'er that was back there was what our hairy frien' were warnin' us about. An I bet it's only a threat at night. That's why he rushed us off. If anyone needs te rest I ken stand watch. I ain't feelin' very tired."
I think we go this way
You move forward along the road, making significant progress towards the town.
As the first sunrays start to light up the path, T.A.S. keeps looking out for something to hunt to secure their food.
But all he could find was an old squirrel that was too slow to escape the crossbow. He puts the weapon on his shoulder and points his finger towards the town. "This way. It can't be far away and we should try to find some safe beds to sleep in."
Cynerik feels the weariness of the night upon him but when he looks at his comrades, he feels the anxiety of another attack. "If they attack us now, we'll be done for." They stop from time to time, letting the others get their rest. Cynerik had traveled through worse when he was serving in the military and yet he can feel that they are just so damn close.
"We're almost there, I know we are. We just need to press on a little further along the road. Come on everyone, we're almost there" Cynerik would come and help Brinda along, seeing the fatigue on her body from the lack of sleep. The others were holding their own though and they were so close, so very close.
You trudge along the road making your way to the town, coming upon it around 8 am.
The town itself is tiny. It barely qualifies as a town. It's a couple dozen ramshackled buildings and homes huddled together behind a 3-yard tall wooden palisade.
Ho there! a voice calls out. Looking up, you see a man standing on the other side of the fence; he's only visible from the waist up. You lot look pretty ragged. What are you doing way out here? Pilgrims come to see the Tomb of the Martyr? Couldn't have been easy, this forest is dangerous at night, donchyaknow.
Well, no point standing out there. Come on in! There's an inn down the road you can visit.
The gates creak open and you're welcomed into town.
Creaking, nearly wound down, but warmed by the babe in his arms, Jexen delights in the sight of these ramshackle huts and homes.
He calls back:
"Ho! We were on the caravan. Bandits struck it and you look upon the last survivors. You will need to rally every man, woman, and child who can hold a weapon in the days ahead. But right now, we have wounded and children in need of food and rest."
The old dwarf lets out a sigh of relief when the town walls come into view. He gently pats the sleeping girl's face that is resting on his shoulder. "Wake up little one. The nightmare's o'er"
Too tired from the journey, Sköllji lets the others do the talking.
We made it? This'd betteh not be a bleedin' dream... I dinnet think we'd e'er get outta that blasted forest. I'm... tired. Sköllji looks at the taller of the two clockworks gently holding a sleeping baby. I doubt Garrote would be too pleased if I were te ignore his final request o' me... I dennet think he'd sympathize wit our journey either... Well. Business is business.
Sköllji addresses the group once they're all inside the gates. "Well, we survived a lit'ral nightmare. Dinnet think we'd get out te tell ye honest. All in all, I'm glad ye all made it. Stubborn as ye are, the dwarf smirks at Cynerik. "My guess is this is where we part ways. Mehbey I'll see ye aroun' town. An uh... Thanks fer 'elpin me through the woods."
The dwarf awkwardly backs away before turning around. He hasn't had too many goodbyes that didn't end with someone paying him or having their legs broken.
Word quickly soreads through town that newcomers are here. It doesn't take long, as there's not more than forty people in the village in total.
As folks filter out of the buildings, they bring with them blankets, bread, and water. Oh thank the New God! one woman says, as she hands out blankets to each of you.
It's a miracle! Truly the Martyr protected you all! says another man.
As the locals bring assistance, the guard you spoke with says, You say there are bandits out there? We need to stop them! The guard starts spreading the word of the dangers, and extra guards are put on post.
We've got an inn in town, says a man in coveralls and a green shirt underneath. Fletcher's Rest. Right in the center of town. Come on, I'll take ya there. We'll get y'all a hot meal and a cool bed.
The forest seemed like it would never end at all, his feet trudging through the ground as he plodded onwards. His eyes were wearing down upon him for a moment before the brush finally gave way and the town finally came into view. It was a pathetic view to see; a ramshackled hamlet that was hidden behind a wall that didn't seem like it could truly protect anyone against the worst nightmares that laid in the woods. Yet it was the most welcome sight after spending days in the woods.
"Thank God..." He murmured out, a soft smile coming across his face as the man on the other side of the wall called out to them. The gates would open and they would be welcomed inside and it was as if he could finally breathe. "My body feels...so damn tired." He thought, all the tension escaping his form and the exhaustion of the last few days beginning to settle in. Never had he ever felt so old as he did right then.
Jexen would begin to speak for them, explaining that they were not pilgrims but instead, they were travelers with the caravan that had been waylaid. "Like my friend said, we were travelling with the caravan when it was attacked by bandits on the road. We're all that survives." Helping the others come in, he'd approach the gate guard and nod to him. "Their camp is far to the south, so one of them told us. We've been out there for days, dealing with awful things...spiders...wolves...worse." The roar from the night before made him shudder, the cry of that man just before whatever it was got him.
"We've slain a handful of them but they seem to still have quite the numbers. I fear that they will attack this hamlet to ensure we are silenced. Do you have a militia? Any trained guards?" The time for relaxation was not yet there and he could not let his guard down yet. They were safer but not perfectly so, not yet.
Sköllji would begin to say his goodbyes and Cynerik would smirk back at the man's comment but before the dwarf would get away, he'd step up and clear his throat.
"We have already been through so much that I hesitate to ask anything more of you. We...we still may not be safe. Our presence here could've put this whole town at risk, if the bandits have the number for it I feel shameful for asking for it but...could we count on you to help protect this place?" Cynerik knew it to be the right thing to do but he had no authority over the dwarf or anyone there with him. His eyes would turn to the rest, nodding at them all. "In fact, I ask that of all of you. Will you help, should this place need it?"
The kindness of the village gives him a smile as he realizes that not all kindness is gone in the world. Word spreads quickly, as it often does in villages such as this, and the survivors are viewed as a grand event almost. Blankets, bread, water, all are offered to them. Cynerik pushes them to be offered to his more mundane or wounded allies, shaking his head before he nodded in agreement.
"It seems we were blessed, to a degree. She kept us safe from the worst dangers of the woods. What was saw though was awful, truly it was." He murmured, going silent for a moment. "It was not the worst that I have seen though." He thought, smiling at the man dressed in coveralls.
"Yes please. We've been traveling through the forest all night. Some wretched thing last night kept us on the move, some awful...howling thing." Cynerik's body ached and the offer of a free bed to sleep in beside a warm hearth was all too tempting.
Sköllji stops walking at Cynerik's request and turns to face the group. He breathes a large breath and sighs loudly in annoyance.
"Aye, yer bloody right. Plus them prick lickers 'ave this comin'. Let's kill the bastards. I'll need an axe though. Sick o' this damned useless paperweight," he says, motioning to his club. "A night's rest in a comfy bed sounds bloody brilliant as well. An' ye did say it were free, correct?" Sköllji waddles off to the closest thing this town has to a blacksmith.
As the group quite literally stumbled upon the town, Kandl shied towards the back. It was well known what Humans thought of his race, and he did not want the others to have to suffer by association. He also hid his obvious weapons and strapped the shield he secured from one of the dead bandits on his back, although the thing looked more like he was carrying a door, and less like he was carrying an piece of armor.
He was not expecting the welcome they received at all.
He accepted the proffered food and water gladly, quickly tearing into the food to replenish the lost energy from the nighttime hike.
He nods at the offer of lodging as well, but when Skollji talks about getting an axe, he thinks about his own armament and quietly joins Skollji headed in search of a blacksmith.
Jexen is glad to see warmth and generosity. It makes a welcome change, apart from the odd moment in the forest.
"My thanks. I do not need food or sleep, but I will accompany Mary and Jericho."
On the way, he quietly asks Brinda:
"Could you wind my key? I am nearly spent."
After letting you all sleep for the day, the inn owner comes up to you after he serves dinner.
Y'all said there're still bandits out there, right? An' I heard you saying that we needed to get some men to go out there an deal with them.
I've gathereds five volunteers to head out in the morning. And the townsfolk have donated some weapons you could use. Ifn yet willing to go out there, with us, that is. I understand if some of you don't. He says that last sentence while looking at Mary.
Sköllji peruses the weapons laid before him. He picks up an axe and inspects its quality. "Eh... I guess this'll do." He also picks up a hatchet and places it at his side.
Wary to relinquish his new shield, Kandl will do so and pick up a Quarterstaff. His knife just didn't seem to be cutting it.
"Yes, there are bandits, and I will be more than happy to help you find and fight them. I can't speak for my friends though."
Kandl meant it, too, when he called them friends. No one could survive what they had as a group without coming out the other side as something resembling friends. Which was odd, as Kandl can't remember ever having had friends.
"I will fight. The bandits are cruel and murderous. They must be stopped, or more innocent lives will be lost."
Jexen is quietly glad that more of his companions...friends?...are stepping up to face the bandits.
Sköllji tests the weight of his new axe before resting it against his shoulder. "So. Now that we're venturin' out as a proper comp'ny, we've got some business te discuss. I'm not too keen on looting the dead, but I'm sure we'll find plenty o' goods there. I propose we sell off er trade the cursed goods we find, an split the earnin's evenly among the survivors. 'Course everything ye found on the journey 'ere is yours. Sound like a deal?"
The dwarf scans his eyes across the group, waiting for a response.
Coinage? Well, I can't rely on charity to support Jericho - or Mary if anything happens to T.A.S.
Jexen turns to face Sköllji.
"That is very acceptable. The bandits have likely murdered anyone they acquired that gear from in the first place, not that there is any clear way to track down the prior owners anyway."
Cynerik tests the weight of the club that he held in his hand, taken from one of the dead bandits. His body felt better though, more rested than he had since the night of the attack. Strapping his armor to himself and lifting up the shield, he joined the others.
The innkeeper came up to them and when he mentioned that he had volunteers, it brought a smile to Cynerik's face. "This is a good place, for certain."
"I'll need no weapons from your people, good man, I'll stick to what I have now." The shield, armor, and club were simple weapons but they were good enough for a soldier such as himself. "As soon as the others are ready, we'll head out looking for them. They were somewhere far to the south, I believe. We'll just have to be careful not to lose anyone along the way." The forest was uncomfortably dangerous, the bandits notwithstanding.
Looking at Sköllji, he listens to the man's proposition. He remembered the dwarf's distaste when he and others looked through the ruined caravan for food, for weapons, for anything to help them survive. Clearing his throat, Cynerik would speak up.
"If we are suggesting that we're moving as a proper company, an adventuring company at that, we will need to have a place that we can sell those goods. Fletcher's Rest isn't a metropolis, after all, I don't think they can afford a slew of armaments and armors." Cynerik would take a moment to secure his shield and club upon his person, clearing his hands as he took out that damaged holy book. Looking down upon it, he sighed softly and nodded. "The Martyr teaches us that it is our souls that are all that is worthwhile, that our goodness remain good. Being good...means vanquishing evil. These men...they are worse then any wolves or spiders we faced. The latter did it because they needed to survive. The bandits did it from greed."
"I understand your trepidation, I do, in taking from the dead. We will loot no proper graves, we will not take needlessly. If I find a sword out there though, I'm going to keep such a blade. That blade will help me do good in the world, protect innocent places and people." Resting his hand on the holy text, he'd smile at the dwarf with a playful grin. "I have been told though that I am stubborn. So if others agree that we should just sell what we find, I will not contest it. I think it unwise that we should trade away our safety but, if it is what everyone else wishes, I will concede."
T.A.S. feels tired when the group reaches the town. While his body is sturdy his mind is worn from the horrors they had seen and the fear of losing Mary. It was meant to be a short journey to bring the bag to this town and know he feels like they were traveling through those woods for ages.
He hesitates for a moment when the townfolks ask for their help against the bandits. He was glad to finally be in safety but the threat was still there and he would be in great danger if he and Mary went back into the woods. Should they even head back into the woods? The people we met were kind and not evil like his constructors. Maybe there are more kind people around in this town? Maybe someone could take care of Mary and give her a proper life? I don't want to leave her but travelling is too dangerous for her.
"I will help as well! They are a threat to everyone living in the woods and the towns around it. I'd take this staff if that's fine. My constructurs did not gift me with the best flexibility so maybe I'm better at just hitting with a bigger staff instead of trying to stab with a small knife."
"Someone has to look after Mary and Jericho while we head out to fight the bandits."
Mary gives TAS a big hug, her small body pressed against the metal frame.
I'll be ok, she says, a tear in her eye. You just go kill those bastards. Every last o-one of them.
In all the time you've known her, she's never talked like this. She's always been kind and sweet and forgiving. Something has changed. Maybe it's just the exhaustion speaking, or maybe her journey through the woods was more damaging to her mind than to her body.
Hearing Cynerik talk of not looting unduly, Brinda smiles. "I agree, Cynerik. It will be no good doing away with the bandits if we become little more than bandits ourselves. Though," she adds with a nod to Sköllji, "it's true the dead have no need of useful equipment." Turning to the rest, she squares her shoulders. "I don't know how useful I'll be to this effort, but I have no other purpose in life now. Maybe I can tap the power I've felt beginning to swell within me. If so, I would use it to help end this bandit threat."
"I am already equipped with sword and shield, though I will not refuse superior weaponry should we find it. But yes, we must avoid repeating the crimes of the bandits in order to stop them. I would however sell spare equipment of theirs that we cannot use ourselves. If for nothing else, we will need to buy food and supplies for ourselves and our wards."
He glances over to T.A.S., with concern mounting at Mary's fraught words.
After breakfast, everyone seems to agree that the bandit a need dealing with. You accept the equipment and gather the local volunteers.
At the gates, the entire town is awaiting your departure. All 32 of them. Older men, women, children. It seems your five volunteers are all the fighting men available in the town.
People praise the blessings of the Martyr upon you, and many are holding small bones in their hands. Those of you familiar with the Cult of the New God recognize these as their holy symbols, representative of how Astrid the Martyr, was killed by wild dogs.
An older woman approaches you, a folded blanket in her hands. I've been saving these for a true time of need, and the Martyr tells me that time is now. She hands over the blanket and you can feel two objects enfolded within. Uncovering them, they're two vials with shimmering blue liquid inside. They're healing potions.
Headed out, you make your way into the forest. Having locals with you is a huge boon, as they're able to keep the trail all the way to the site of the ambush. It takes about 7 hours to get there, and it's well past noon when you arrive.
Fortunately, you have encountered no enemies during the day. At one point, you thought you saw a wolf, but it did not attack.
You know you're getting close because you can see a venue of vultures overhead.
It's been several days since the ambush.
You look around and everything is as you left it. The wagons are still damaged, but might he repaired enough to drag everything back to town.
Off to the side of the road are mounds of dirt - the burial sites are still there, mostly undisturbed. A single mangy dog is digging at one of them, trying to get in to the meal underneath.
It's getting late. We should set up a camp for the night, one of the men suggests.
Another man, the eldest of the group, looks at the burial mounds and says, I assume you lot are responsible for burying the dead. I know them rat bastard bandits didn't do it. Have to say, I'm impressed. Your actions have shown to be honorable so far, but this really steps it up a notch. Taking the time in a dangerous forest like this to take care of those who've passed. Truly, Astrid and the New God shine through you.
Sköllji chuckles when Mary speaks, slight embarrassment on his face. "Oi. Sorry 'bout that fren. Looks like the wee one's been around the dwarf too long."
He listens to the comments from the group. "'Tis true. There ain't exactly a bolsterin' market 'ere. So we divide the loot then do with it what we wish? I suppose that'll work."
Sköllji ponders for a bit, then addresses Cynerik. "I notice ye readin' that book o' yers an mutterin' them prayers. Do ye think... That maybe ye could bless the weapons or gear? Remove the taint o' innocent blood off 'em? Gotta admit, repurposing an evil weapon te punish the self same evil sounds like a feat right out o' Dwarven legend."
Cynerik nods at the new plan; divide the loot and do with it as they all please. It'll be the easiest way to get things done and won't deprive them of what could be better equipment and better weapons.
At Sköllji's mention though, Cynerik looks down at the book for a moment. Those actions would be the true workings of a priest, not just of a man in touch with his faith. He had no real religious training at all but he could still feel the Martyr's touch upon the book, upon him even.
"I-I could try. There are some prayers of cleansing and healing within here. Perhaps I will try them." He says, smiling softly before running his hands over the surface of the book. "If I return alive, I will be worthy of this supposed pilgrimage. Then, we will see if I am worthy to preach the good word."
Only five men join them at the gate but with these numbers, Cynerik feels a confidence he is not sure he is allowed to feel. The town has come out in support, the bones of wild dogs hanging in their hands and Cynerik smiles at each and every one of them. "These are good people. They deserve peace."
The older woman approaches with her bundle of blankets but it is the vials inside that are truly of note and of worth. The additional vials of healing could be the edge that they needed to survive. "Thank you Ma'am. You and your town are truly blessed by the Martyr for your kindness."
Turning to the host of warriors now, Cynerik smiles a grim grin at them all. They were off to battle, to fight, to kill. The bandits would only grow more bold as time went on, it was time to put an end to these awful men.
Cynerik walks back through the caravan and while the smile has abated somewhat, he can still taste the copper on the air and the foulness of dead bodies. Memories haunt him for a moment; dead children, women, and men strewn about the road. He swallows hard, shaking his head and shaking the awful image free from his mind. The wagons were still damaged but now that he had a chance to look at them, they could be fixed and repaired enough to return back with whatever supplies they salvaged from the lair of the bandits.
The sound of the dog brings Cynerik back to the present and he hisses at the beast, driving the curious beast off before he looks at the others traveling with them.
"It was mostly my friend, Kandl, who did the burying." Cynerik says, giving credit to the small but honorable goblin. "I swore I saw him weep tears. I merely helped and the others kept watch and guard. We gave them the best prayers we could to ensure their souls moved on."
In a few hours, the sun would fall below the horizon and they would be back within the darkness. A small part of him wished for the comfort of that warm bed again but he was quickly silenced as Cynerik focused on what was at hand.
"I don't know if any of you men were enlisted with the Imperial military but I served some time back South. We'll want watches with at least two people per watch and we'll want a proper perimeter. They could come for us at night and if they do, we need to make sure none of them can report back that we're coming. Understood?" Looking the area over, Cynerik would try to pick the most defensible position nearby for their encampment to settle within. If something came for them during the night, they'd be ready.
Sköllji stays a few paces away from the massacre site, still weary of divine wrath or ghostly vengeance towards the only survivors. He keeps a close eye on the forest as he practices with his new axe.
The balance is all off. More for choppin' wood than cleavin' skulls. I miss me old axe. I hope Hatinl hasn't killed 'imself with it. That boy...
Brinda clutches her magical scroll as the reinforced party heads off into the wilderness once more to seek out the bandits and put an end to the threat they pose. Despite her obvious fear, she carries an aspect of grim determination.
When the party reaches the site of the slaughter, she looks sadly at the new graves and nods at Cynerik's words. "Indeed, the goblin showed himself to be the most pious and respectful of us all."
When it comes time for bedding down and resting, she dutifully winds up the clockworks and prepares the camp for bed. When lots for guard duty are being determined, she does her best to make sure that she shares watch with Cynerik - the humble man gives her a feeling of safety and reliability that she hasn't felt in a long time. When time for their watch comes, she sits close by him, wrapped in her blanket, the older man's company lending her confidence and strength.
The gate, Slugoth says looking through his battered face, his left eye nearly swollen shut. I qas beginning to think it a myth.
He thanks the towns folks for the hospitality.
Clad in the armor and wielding the sword and shield Slugoth readies himself to head out, although still barely healed.
Cynerik sits there, his eyes on the area around them but they are eventually drawn down to the the small instrument in his hands. Watching the stars, he carefully traces them until he feels Brinda's presence beside him. He looks up at her with a faint smile as she sits close by, her blanket wrapped tightly around her.
"You don't have the making of one ready to make war Brinda, I was surprised you joined us." He said in soft tones, staring out into the darkness for a moment. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're here with us. It is very brave of you to join us against these bastards." Shaking his head a little bit, he looks back at her for a moment.
"So what is your plan, Brinda. Where are you heading to?" Cynerik was never much for asking questions; a traveler's journey was their own affair. He shared little about himself and where he came from, only that he came from the South.
The night passes without incident; the closest thing to a problem was the one wild dog you saw earlier trying to dig into a grave.
Jexen will be awake. At some quiet point in the night, he walks over to T.A.S. And words tumble out.
"T.A.S. Mary...I am concerned for her. The last few days have been hard on us all. Worse still that a child should witness it. Nearly killed by am arrow. We must prevail. We cannot leave her and Jericho and the villagers at the 'mercy' of those monsters."
Brinda sits staring out into the darkness as Cynerik talks to her, her expression sombre. "Plan...? I... have no such thing. Maybe once upon a time I thought I did, but even then, I wasn't plotting a course, I was just... drifting. Things happen to me, I get pushed in one direction or another, and I try to keep my head above water. Perhaps that is why I'm here with you all. For once, I had a choice - fight, or hide." She sighs. "Maybe it was no real choice at all - maybe both paths simply lead to my death sooner rather than later. But even so, this time I won't just do what the gods seem to expect of me. Maybe, if I surprise the world, it might surprise me back." She shrugs. "Maybe. Maybe none of it matters."
Kandl was quiet during the trek from the village to the ambush site.
Once more to the place of my failure. he thought, though he tried to keep those thoughts tamped down inside so as to help prevent another disaster.
Seeing the graves again cause a single tear to trickle down his face, but he locked it down before the dam burst. Instead, he purposely turned his back on the bones of the caravan and began walking the perimeter, looking for the bandit's tracks.
The night passes without incident. Cyrenik found a good spot to set up a watch that gave a good view of the area, from which allowed those on watch to keep a good eye out.
In the morning, dried fruits and meats are passed around for breakfast.
Kandl searches around and discovers some tracks leading into the forest, and you make your way towards the bandit camp.
It takes a solid six hours making your way through the thick brush, but you eventually discover the bandit camp. Trees have been cleared out making the area a more open than everywhere else.
When you spot the first bandit, you're near a copse of trees that has some small cliffs to your right. The group of three bandits are about 100 yards ahead of you.
Better me than the others, or the villagers., Jexen thinks with sword and shield in front of him.
Kandl moves straight forward to the stand of trees directly in front of him.
Cynerik listens carefully to everything that Brinda says, nodding softly. It was indicative of the world they lived in that such a young girl would say such somber things. Yet their world was darkening and it was only getting darker as the days passed on. A soft smile spread across his lips as he shook his head.
"I don't believe that. The Martyr and God both watch over you, me, all of us. They work in mysterious ways and there are dark things working in the world now, dark and terrible things..." A rough hand would gently grasp the girl's shoulder, making her turn to view him. 'You've had more than just one choice in your life; you've had the choice to live...or to die. You've done what you needed to, we all have."
The look on Cynerik's face was sincere and honest and while his smile held what seemed like lifetimes of sadness in it, his smile was still there and still strong. "You're doing more than that. You're doing good in the world. You should be proud of yourself. I am glad that you are here with us, with me" That grip on her shoulder would tighten again for a moment before he looked up into the stars, nodding. "Hey, time to switch shifts. Let's get to bed."
Cynerik would travel with the others, full on the hearty and delicious breakfast that sat heavily in his belly. Hours would pass but at last, they'd catch sight of the bandits standing guard. Cynerik would watch them for a moment, checking to see if any of them had a horn or anything on them to try and warn the others of intruders. It was common practice to take out the sentries that could warn the main force and it was a tactic he'd employ now.
If he saw any warning device, he would draw his club out and look to the others. "Get in close, knock them down, cut them down. Simple and clean, everyone. Make sure to take out the anyone with a whistle or horn."
As the others rushed in, so did Cynerik. He charge across the way, crashing into the man with his shield raised high.
Brinda holds her sling ready, moving forward into the trees to find a good position with some cover from which to start hurling bullets at the bandits.
Brinda's face expresses no sign of comfort at Cynerik's talk of gods and martyrs watching over their lives, but she nods anyway. When he talks about her doing good, and that he's glad to have her along, her face does brighten somewhat, and she gives a small, sad smile in answer to his own. "You're a good man, Cynerik. Good night to you." She makes her way to her bedding and curls up, trying to find some rest before the next day's violence.
T.A.S. nods at Jexens words. "I'm starting to worry about her as well. She had a hard life already. When I met her, she fled from the orphanage where she was abused. We both were hunted by folks from the town so we were hiding in the woods for two years. In the last half year or so we went to town sometimes as people forgot about us. My constructurs moved to a different country and the orphanage thinks Mary is dead. I'm worried that the last days were just too much for her. She always tries to look happy but I can feel the horrors nibbling at her sanity. I should not have taken her on this journey but there was no one that could have watched for her. Maybe - if we take out the bandits - Fletcher's Rest could be a safe place for her to stay. Maybe someone is willing to watch after her..."
As the first bandits are seen, T.A.S. puts a bolt into the crossbow and winds it up cautiously. Then he moves forward following behind the others to get into a good position to shoot from. "I can't promise I'll hit with this thing but I'll give my best not to shoot you in the back." he whispers to his friends. It's hard to say if he is joking.
Moves and Actions in combat now listed in discussion, with a link listed in the campaign tab.
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Sköllji waddles over to a stump near where the orc was standing guard. He clears his throat and pretends to find a leaf interesting while thinking of a conversation topic to break the silence. After a few long moments, he speaks to the stoic orc.
"It's strange, innit? Felt like so damn long we were in this demon forest. Dinnet think we'd e'er get out te be honest. But fortune has favored us." The dwarf looks at Slugoth's bruised face, with a hint of guilt on his own. He then shifts his gaze to his wrapped fist. "Some more than others... Hell, you fought like a bear. An' almost met yer end. But you fought off even death. Me? I 'urt meself out o' rage more than the coward bandits did. I guess what I'm gettin' at, is thanks fer takin' all the hits fer us. You an the goblin. Hopefully I ken take sum hits fer you fairly soon. Stay safe, frien'"
Sköllji nods to Slugoth and gives him some space, remaining silent throughout the rest of the watch.
The bastards 'ave shown themselves. E'ery last one o' 'em. Fer the hospitable townsfolk. Fer the wee ones. Fer my... frien's? Aye. Frien's. But mostly... Mostly fer me.
Sköllji stays low and moves quickly, but silently, completely focused on the task ahead. He moves as close as possible, trying to stay to the back or side of any bandit's gaze. He readies his axe and waits for the signal.