Breewyn begins to idly draw in the dirt with her finger. "You forget Jietin, that we were almost disposed of because we were no longer valued as property...They were going just bury us alive or dead and write us off completely." She looks up, giving him a rather dark and knowing look before looking down at the map again.
-Okay, remember when you were still a slave... would you have wanted your saviours to leave you there better?- He takes a moment to let the reflexion slip through their minds. -Plus, if we raid their camp, we also get their food.
Ishak called over a couple of the kobolds as they went off to the side to discuss things in quick draconic, one nodded and grabbing some gear and heading out with another. The third handed Ishak a map and he returned upon Thomen's last words. "Pardon the interruption, but apparently the kobolds were once part of the Black Mines camp. They have sturdy stone walls, though only enough to make any attempt escaping more of an hassle. They have a few towers, but it seems to not to be set up to ward off any attacks." He looked at Jietin, pointing a finger, "Make him big enough, he could probably climb the walls." He then points to Thomen, "We have the resources to bring with us to the near forest, and set up a siege weapon." He paused then looking between the two, rubbing his chin in thought as he looked back at the map.
The room's contents did not hold up to the times test, most of the items that once stocked this room was all but gone. Though among the rubble and debris the pair of scouts could easily find a few glass bottles that were still intact, containing a mysterious dark blue liquid.
Toyer's check revealed no traps or sources of harm in his inspection, though he did find something of interest. It was very subtle, but the walls appeared to have a network of carvings of glyphs and symbols stretching along the walls towards the stairs that lead down further in the tower.
-Siege we- weapon, you say?- asks Thomen, scratching his beard. -I could... I could help with that... I think. Would... would you sh- show me the way?
Hearing mention of the walls around the mining camp, Pazeek chuckles loudly, drawing eyes his way. Clearly amused, he explains the reason for it to the others gathered around the fire. "Get me to a high point overlooking the camp, and I could glide in. Or, if the need is pressing, I could extend my wings and actively fly." He turns his dark eyes to Jietin consideringly after saying this. "In fact, if someone here had magic capable of granting me great strength for a time, Jietin here wouldn't need to muck about climbing anything. I could just drop him right inside the walls, and others as well."
The camp suffered its first attack from an undead horde, the local undead sovereign clearly unhappy with the occupancy of the ex-slaves. The battle was hard fought but they were victorious in battle with only a few injuries and a couple of loses.
Currently most of the party had elected to stay in the camp to discuss the larger picture of their situation. Ultimately what their course of action will be in this world. They already have pieces of a beginning rebellion against the oppressive kings forces but the group also has the materials to quickly pack up and leave the area, north towards the free cities where the battles are being waged.
Fortification or flee, it is only two of several options available to the group as a whole, but this decision is determining where they pick their fight. They could potentially create a sizeable rag tag army with the liberation of The Black Mines. But with that comes bigger logistical problems. Even then, they could still break up into smaller groups and move from the ancient city they discovered and try to push their resources to the borders of the conflict, which there are many.
Meanwhile, Toyer and a small scouting party were investigating the tower that the kobolds have discovered. They had found a secret entrance that leads beneath the city, riddled with ancient arcane engravings with old ancient magic still pulsing through the structure. Initially looking for a better location to set camp, due to the attack of the horde, they needed to move to a place they could easily defend for the next attack that may come.
All of this is happening when in roughly thirteen days, King Ledons advance forces will be moving into the city to attempt to recover the artifact that is rumored to be within the city. The group have found the beginnings of the trail and believe they already found what the king is looking for.
The next few decisions will determine plenty for the group, for better or worse.
Octavian moved away from where had been grooming Acteon and rejoined the discussion going on. He listened silently at the edge of the group for several minutes, his mouth set in a frown as his mind spun out the possibilities of every plan being set forth. "The slave camp might be more than just rescuing the slaves. There are an unusual amount of dwarves in that camp so there must be a significant source of ore." he said. His mind registered other facts and he pushed forward to point at the diagram with his staff. "It's likely the guard at the camp will be pointed in more then out. We've annihilated every human force that has discovered us so word of our escape should still be a secret. We've got enough supplies now to load everything on the wagons and leave these ruins."
The blue skinned wizard glanced to the doorway and looked worried. "I can't tell you exactly what goes into the creation of undead like that but judging from the sheer amount that the necromancer threw at us just to make us go away, I don't want to be here when we get taken seriously. We've looted and learned all we can and are under imminent threat. We need more forces, crafting materials and a better understanding of the king's forces. All of that will be found within the slave camp. With careful planning and execution I believe we can wipe out the king's forces and take everything from that site."
He knelt down next to the map as he became more animated as his thought process began to spin out. "Here you can see we are sitting on the foothills of mountains that are directly north of us. If we vacate the ruins and travel along the foothills to the south-west eventually we will be directly north of the camp. It should be roughly..." the wizard trailed off as he ran numbers in his head. "If we calculate the speed of the wagons through the forest most likely take us anywhere from 2-3 weeks to travel west by south-west and then cut south for another 30 miles before we hit a small mountain range. On the southern side of that range is the mining camp and we can approach it either directly over the mountains or swing around to the east and stay hidden within the forest. It's long and out of the way but to me seems the best way to achieve our goal while remaining hidden."
Pazeek quirks an eyebrow up in thought as Octavian details a possible plan of action. "Two to three weeks of travel? Isn't that just about the time left until that military search party arrives to turn these ruins upside down? We could set out for the mines, fail there, and have nothing to come back to here either on account of not having wiped that search party out while we had the means. Then we'd really be in a spot of trouble." The tengu clicks his beak shut a few times in thought, but he can't see much in the way of alternatives to suggest. "Well, if we're going to leave here, then maybe we should get on with it already," Pazeek finally offers. "We can send the wagons on ahead now, with a suitable guard, while a few of us join up with the others to both inform them of what's going on and give them some reinforcements."
Tsakua shook his head, his hands patting his sides. "Got none, sorry." Before he would turn and look around the room for a moment. "I'll go find something, let me check above." He would then leave the room that they had entered from the short flight of stairs from the above tower.
The glow pulsed on the walls, slow and steady, as if the lights themselves were breathing. A soft tremor could be felt in the stone floor for a moment before passing. When it did a soft, sweet smell rose in the air, lingering near the dark staircase.
The lights in the glyphs intermittently faded out. Another soft rumble could be felt across the ground. The sweet smell began to strengthen, causing the room to smell like honey dew. Though it was only a barest of minutes before the air began to become energized. The Glyphs suddenly glew at a intensity that they had never showed before. The hairs upon those in the room would begin to stand on end. A soft crack could be heard down the stair well, a light beginning to grow as the ground began to shake in growing intensity.
Ishak was quiet for a moment, listening to the discussion. After a minute of silence he would chime in with his assent with Octavian's plan. "I agree, this place not safe. We should just go, hit mines. Then head elsewhere, regroup. I feel that we barely scratched the surface here. But we always come back later." He stood and shook the dust off his robes.
The camp was almost assembled, the carts completely loaded and the camp defenders have already began the final stages of fleecing up any evidence that they were here. Ishak turned to the group, "We have stuff to make siege for slave camp. I think we have edge." He looked to Thomen particularly, knowing they had very briefly discussed his ability with siege craft. He looked to Pazeek then, "Bird man could fly a stealth in, unlock gates from inside too." It seemed the kobold was in support of ditching this place, he had enough close calls here as it was.
We will return in a short while [...]
Thomen reacts to these words quickly. He isn't going to let the wizard venture alone there. The caravan has enough guards, so he's going with him - he's too important.
-Wait!
He runs as quickly as his dwarven legs allow him, and jumps to the wagon in motion.
-I'm coming with you- he says, smiling.
Ishak took stock of the camp for a moment before letting off a slow sigh. "Kitsune lady, believe she died in battle with her pet." he said slow and deliberately, there were a lot of clean up after that battle before. "I dont know. But it shows how important we should get going." He cleared his throat before giving a nod to Octavian. "We will finish up here then." He would brush off any dirt and then get to work to preparing everyone on leaving. All the guards have donned arms and armor, the ex-slaves now dedicated to surviving or die trying.
There was a loud buzz before everything went silent before a sudden ear shattering clap sounded in the room, the magical energy that bled into the area suddenly exploding.
The door that the scouting party came in from was closing now, attempting to lock them in.
<--Using this one
...narrowly dodging the brunt of the explosion coming at him. He rolls end over end twice before...
<--Using this one
...gracefully coming back up to his feet in a run completely unhindered by his near faceplant on the ground passing through the closing door.
With a final check of his gear--can never be too careful there--Pazeek is ready to go. With his pack occupying one of the ways, he takes a position well ahead and the side of the noisy mob of people, animals, and vehicles. There, he keeps alert for anything that considers the noise an opportunity to investigate rather than trouble to avoid.
The noise, after so much time spent wandering with just Sharpfeather for company, proves somewhat distracting to the tengu, as he's constantly twitching his head back toward the slowly moving train when some noise or shout catches his attention.
While helping Octavian collect the darkwood, Thomen materialises the things he's been wondering about.
-Octavian... You know, things thing you do... With the items... Does it take you long? And... What do you need for it? Just curious...
Toyer had no problems escaping the room, but Ilya had slight minor one. He barely made it through the closing door, before being singed by electrical energy, lashing up his back with burning pain.
Behind you the door shut, the stones that were the combination reset. Then there was silence. Nothing moved, nor chased them any further.
Throngs of species gathered around several camp fires, having just been pitched. There were no tents, no shanties. There was never time for that, just enough to set up a fire and sit with dread. Though not all the refugees were tattered and possessionless. There were many dwarves who were rugged, and well armed, several kobolds and other species who seemed like they have been through several hard fights. Most of their eyes were tired, yet hard and determined. They kept watch over everyone, scouts constantly coming and going, relaying orders to a few select persons of authority.
The fear of freezing was not amongst the worries as the summer season had arrived. It was starvation and the constant fear that the Mad King's armies would soon be upon them. There was a quietness about the throngs of dislocated families and species. There was no cheer, no merriment. Food was being rationed now, the supplies were running low and many of the former slaves and refugees who had taken up arms were out, trying their best to harvest what they can.
The entire gathering sat upon a bluff that had a small path leading down several hundred feet to a desert below where the sun was coming close to the dunes into the far distance. The only known path for salvation on the western edges of the plans. Behind were rolling hills, covered in thick forests while to the north and south were climbing mountains.
Nightime
The blue skinned Illidari stared into the fire lost in thought. It had been three weeks since they had arrived at the camp on the bluffs and he had been quickly singled out as the only Illidari who knew anything about the great ocean of sand below them. Instead of giving them the news they were hoping for, a way to cross the burning sands, he told them to set up a defensible camp and prepare for more refugees. Materials were stockpiled, wagons were built, desert clothing crafted and yet every day the the only Illidari in the camp did nothing.
Octavian glanced over at his staff which was jammed into a crack on the top of the cliff, the diamond glowing a vibrant purple color. Last night it had been a blue light and the night before a clean white. Why he continued to change the color night after night or leave it jammed so the light could be seen clearly from out in the desert was a mystery as he rarely engaged in idly chatter with strangers, instead preferring the company of the refugees who had arrived at the camp with him.
The illidari heard a nicker from nearby and looked over at Acteon. The great black stallion saw Octavian looking and shook his mane. The wizard smiled as he stood up and walked over to where the horses from their caravan were being kept. He loaded a bucket with oats and carried it over to the warhorse who thrust its head in the bucket, nearly taking him off of his feet. The wizard smiled as he reached out with his other hand to stroke the gleaming neck of the powerful horse.
Acteon nickered in pleasure as he continued to gorge on the oats. Octavian stood there for a few minutes until the bucket was empty, enjoying the simple companionship the animal offered him. Taken from an enemy knight who had been leading a slave caravan filled with non-humans the stallion had been hot tempered and difficult to temper. Only with the help of a tengu they had encountered who had training with animal handling was the wizard able to begin to understand the horse's personality.
Now routinely he went over to an open area left clear for training purpose and exercised Acteon on the end of a long rope, running him in circles in both directions. The bond between the two had grown in the time between the ruins in the jungle and the thousand mile trek to the mountains that separated the grasslands from the Brisal Desert. Octavian finished petting the horses' neck and went to check on the buckets being used to house water for the animals. Seeing them nearly empty the wizard whispered an incantation and flicked his fingers at the buckets, causing them to slowly fill with water.
The wizard broke off the spell once the buckets were filled and moved back to the cluster of tents his companions were using near the edge of the cliff. As he passed a weapons rack he stopped long enough to grab a longbow and strange arrow with a small bundle of cloth tightly wound the middle of the shaft. He took these to the edge of the cliff and set the arrow against the bow string.
Unraveling a very thin string from the arrow, he tied it to the bowstave and tugged gently on a few times to ensure it was solid. He took a breath before pulling the string back to his ear and aiming high over the desert.
"Lux".
The arrow began to glow a split second before it shot away high into the air. The string attached to the box vibrated for several second as the other end, attached to the arrow, spun out. At the top of the arrows arc the projectile jerked as the string ran out and yanked on the cloth tied around the arrow, breaking in the process. A small square of cloth caught the air and flared out, halting the arrows momentum. Slowly it began to float to the desert far below, a lonely star drifting into a black abyss.
It would take several minutes for the arrow to float the several thousand feet down to the sands. Until then Octavian would stand near the cliffs' edge and carefully watched for any response signal out on the sands. He had done this at the same time every night and as of yet had not received anything in response.
Bree sighed softly as she stared up into the stars with her tired eyes as she did many times before. An unconscious shiver ran through her and she took off the comically-large top hat off and raked her fingers through her messy, dirty brown hair trying to shake it out some and let it spill down almost to her shoulders.
She looked back down into her lap and ran a hand over it slowly, remembering the man that used to own it and a little tear ran down her face. Quickly wiping it away, and clearing her throat a bit from the lump she could feel starting to well up in her throat she went to try and find ways to busy herself among the others at the campsite.
She felt that she was serving a higher purpose, some power blessed her with the ability to bring aid to those who need it and heal the wounds of her fellow down-trodden. After the encounter with the ancient tree creature, that power only grow stronger and developed further. Now she could tend to the sick and injured far easier than she ever could before, and she enjoyed being depended on. Though at times there were times where she felt a little overwhelmed and began to ramble. And by the time she would catch herself she got peculiar and sometimes fearful looks.
She never understood why those reactions, she thought they just didn't like her talking out her thoughts while she performed her duties. She wandered through the campsite a bit, swaying to and fro while she seemed to be looking for someone in particular. Whether she would find them at the moment with her slightly scattered thoughts and distracted look on her face, or bump into them was another matter entirely.
You see a Speaker, one of a caste of servants tasked with acting as representatives of human masters who are too busy or too proud to directly interact with their slaves. They are part majordomo, part emissary, and part valet. This often earns them the ire of other slaves, who view them as collaborators with the human masters. While they are treated as beloved pets rather than chattel by most humans, they are slaves nonetheless.
This one is tall and thin, like most of his kind. He resembles a human with dark gray skin, lightening to a cream color on his torso like a shark. His eyes are solid white, with no pupils. His head and face are shaved. He is dressed in a weathered artisan's outfit, and carries a small dagger at his belt.
He comes off like most Speakers you have ever met -- entitled, effete, and soft. It isn't his fault, really. His people are diplomats, scribes, and valets to the masters. While they are still slaves, they certainly never get their hands dirty. His manner is cultured and self-possessing, but you can see that anxiety is starting to make him wary and skittish.
He appears to be traveling alone. He is likely not welcomed by the other slaves. A passerby stops to ask him a question you cannot hear. The Speaker holds his hands up deferentially.
"What? Who, me? I am no one important. I am Qahnaarin, a humble tailor of House Mandarb. Or rather, I was of House Mandarb. Unfortunately, they opposed the Crown, to their ruin. I was at the country estate just north of Stonesummer when we heard the news. Poor Lord Mandarb and his family, slain in their town manor in Erebor. It didn't take much deliberation to decide that we would be next. The other slaves and I fled to escape the chaos. Now we are here, about to enter this dreary desert. I certainly hope someone in this crowd knows where they are going..."
It seemed the night was going to settle without any commotion or ruckus. Many of the refugees have begun to sleep, the fires around the camp begin to dwindle as the orange flickering light yielded against the darkness of the night. The stars shown brightly in the moonless sky, a quiet falling upon the majority of the camp. Soft whispers winded its way around the still lit fires as those still awake were speaking softly, either being courteous or didn’t want their conversations overheard.
It was just a moment, as Arion began to stride off into the desert, eager to do something about the lack of the signal, but before she would make her way down the winding path into the dunes below a red light appeared in the sky, south over the hills and forests. This light caught the attention of everyone in the camp as a silence filled with dread fall over the camp. The seconds that passed felt like minutes, as another light appeared, with a screeching blast erupting from the signal, the sound echoing through the mountains pass.
The signals were sent from the scouts watching the passes, to the refugees. The signals that were a sign of the approaching humans. A cry of alarm rose up in the camp as many of the sentries hurried to wake all the refugees. The once silent camp erupted into a roar of activity as many began the preparations to leave.
Octavian looked at Taalik, his hand pointing to the west where many of the wagons had been stationed, ”Get yourself and anyone willing to fight prepared. We must leave now!” He turned from the Canidae as he strode to help direct everyone into getting prepared for a very harsh march through the desert.
Ishak was about to dive into an excited chat with the refugees who remained at the camp fire before he was stopped by the flares in the south. Dread came over him as he clapped his hands, ”Get weapons, armor! Wagons there!” He pointed a talon to the same point Octavian gestured to Taalik, ”Make do with what we have. We got just enough time to get into the desert and put miles between us and the human army.” He’d jump down from the log quickly as he ran towards a scout who was directing a few dwarves to help with the sleds to investigate what the hell was going on. He would only be gone for a moment before the scout ran off to the south to try and intercept any couriers. Turning back he would look at the camp suddenly coming alive with activity. A growl left him as he took off at a run towards the cart, where the others were.
”Suicide this might. You all will come and delay any scouts. Loud flare meant combat is happen. Get armed, we move soon!”