Jietin sniffs the red liquid. Ought to get somebody educated for that sword and the gems.
Octavian grinned as he found the barrels of adamantium and mithril and grunted as he pulled the barrels from the wreckage and set them in the open. The two locked chests also were pulled from the wreckage and placed next to the barrels of ore. He examined the lock on the chest before simply grabbing his spear and jamming the tip into the small space between the lid and the base. Once the spear was lodged he simply pressed down on the end and hoped the leverage was enough to break the lock.
Once the first chest was open he repeated this on the second one.
Xaeken finds a couple backpacks, though a little tattered, are quite use-able. A few cloth sacks and rope were found as well. Though for survival gear, that was pretty much all he could find.
Jietin catches a sweet rummy smell from the liquid he sniffed, though that doesn't help him in the slightest in figuring out what it could be.
Octavian was successful in prying open the chests from the armory. Though unfortunately he probably should've inspected them a little closer as the second chest suddenly shot a fireball right into him.
Inside the chests were quite a few intricacies. The first one that didn't have a trap were a few more bottles filled with unknown liquid. This time a few green and yellow ones as well, with few pieces of raw materials that seemed highly valuable, though you can't tell what they seem to be.
For the trapped chest, it seemed to be a small ornate box with no discernible opening. The box was a deep blue color, with gold metal trim. When held to the light it sparkled just every so slightly.
1 Mysterious box
3 Mysterious ore
3 Red Potions
4 Yellow Potions
2 Green Potions
3 Backpacks
2 Cloth Sacks
27 feet of hemp rope
When the gout of fire shot at him Octavian was too focused on popping the lid open to dodge and took the shot directly in the face. Instead of falling however he merely jerked his head back and waved the smoke away with his hand. He inspected the discoloration on his shoulder where the fire had burned hot enough to injure him very slightly. He brushed the ash from his shoulders and peered into the now open chest.
He gritted his teeth as he looked at the smaller box and smothered the desire to scream in frustration. He was free yet still not free. No spellbook, no item bound to his essence. He felt like a warrior forced to fight with his arms tied behind his back and his feet shackled to heavy weights. He knew the spell he could use to study the potions and small box in closer detail but without his spellbook there was nothing he could do about it.
He looked closer at this new ore that had not been kept with the adamantium and mithril.
"Jietin! Of the weapons here which one would you prefer to use? And do you want adamantium or mithril?" Octavian said with a grumpy tone in his voice. He needed something else to focus on after being denied the most basic skills the wizards were famous for.
Breewyn wandered around looking a little lost and bewildered. She saw the goblin and the tiefling run one way, then Octavian ran yet another way, others ran a different direction still. She huffed some as she went over and stood over to one side. I hope someone can help me tend to injuries. I lack the energy to be able to do it all alone. She sighed, pouting some. She casually looked over and saw the human woman. "Hey! Do you have any skill in tending to injuries? If we can find some bandages we might be able to mend some wounds our companions have suffered this day." She brightened up a bit, trying to show a strong face despite how difficult today had been.
Octavian inspection of the ore yielded that it was bit of a rare ore called Blackiron. The properties of this metal escape his mind, but it was a much more valuable material then the mithril they found combined.
Tsakua grins at the sight of the spirits, and takes a sip, pulling a face. Damn humans never could brew nought but swill. Stepping back outside into the fresh air of the yard, munching on a piece of fruit, he calls out to the group in the courtyard, "When ye're done looking fer yer weapons and treasure, vittles are waitin' fer ye!"
Iraldia accepted the dwarf's help up.
"Thank you" Ira gave her a small smile. The smile faded as she watched the dwarf wander off in thought. Her ears perked as the wizard ranted about not being appreciated for 'saving everyone'. She snickered "Yeah, because sneaking into the regiment and presenting the opportunity to take down the guards was no help at all I'm sure. Maybe I shouldn't have even bothered." The kitsune huffed. She climbed up to the battlements and searched around for one of the archer's bows and quiver.
The gusts caused by the dragon's departure were powerful enough to knock Marra over, landing on her behind in the mud. Her senses finally restored and the storm pretty much gone, she sat there for a moment, simply grateful for her life. A moment later, she stands, looking about the ruined outpost buildings.
Seeing the smashed slave den in the distance, she begins to head towards it, but the sound of the gnome addressing her causes Marra to suddenly stop and look confusedly at the gnome before pointing at herself confusedly.
"Me?" she calls out warily. She glances about once more, her gaunt face tinged with worry. Companions? I've no doubt half of you guys might cut me down as those guards were as soon as this is all over, she thinks. She takes another look towards the den, and yet another at the dead guards strewn about. Not slaves, nor citizens, but warriors now.
"I... have some skill. Aye, I can assist, yes," she calls out to the gnome once more, though there is some reluctance in her voice. She begins to head over to the gnome.
Breewyn's smiled warmly as the human approaches her, looking around as the others continued to mill about. Some picked through their plundered swag, gleaning what value they could from the stolen treasures. Others were griping and grumbling about their usefulness or non-usefulness. She was feeling a tad overwhelmed, and a little frustrated. Wanting to help, she was going to try and find something, anything that she could use for bandages and then spend the rest of her energies on those that were the most grievously wounded. As long as Marra was at least willing to assist her, they would try to patch everyone up as best as they could.
A small crate with an assortment of medical treatment, which contains.
10 bandages
2 tinctures
1 bottle of pure alcohol
The drizzle stopped by this time. It has been about an hour as everyone searched the remains of the outpost. The sky still held the dark and gloomy clouds above, still the presenting the constant threat of rain. A southern cool breeze picks up, causing the trees to bend slightly. Besides the groups movements and conversations, everything was still pretty quiet around the outpost. No sounds of wild live at all. Which slightly odd, when all you can see around the outpost were trees and a pair of cart wheel trails leading away from the gate to the east.
Nodding to the dwarf the oread shuffles on moving to Tsakua in the courtyard and nodding at the presentation of food, Thank you.
As Xaeken turns to move, Luca calls out softly, "Wait!"
She pauses a moment, unsure of what to say next.
"D-d you think I did the right thing? Did I make a mistake in agreeing to find the dragon's clutch?"
Ira feels there is something on the fringes of her vision but she is too frustrated to acknowledge it. Instead, she limps down to grab a weapon from the pile. After selecting a bow and some arrows, she heads up to where Tsakua was munching on some food. Her stomach growled painfully and she needed food.
Xaeken turns to the dwarf that followed him and nods slowly, The alternative was to what? Die from her fury? Though it saddens me to not be totally free, I see no chains around me. I have more chances then I had this sunrise. That seems a good thing to me... The sorcerer offers a stony shrug as though to indicate it simply "is".
When Jietin ignored the wizard Octavian growled and stepped away from the barrels to move to the center of the compound and look up at the clearing sky. He stood there contemplating the shifting clouds as the light drizzle cooled his face and calmed him. He knew what he was feeling was impatience. The caravan was coming tomorrow and he very much desired to swoop in like the proverbial bandit and pillage to his hearts content.
So deep in his ruminations was he that it was only when a stray sunbeam reflected off somehthing in the corner of his eye to shift his attention to a shortsword with unusual craftsmanship. He broke from his daydreaming and bent down to pick the sword up and and scan over it with his well trained eye.
"Hey Shatterstone come down here!" Octavian calls, all pretense of grumpiness or anger gone. He turned the blade over his in his hands slowly and admired the beauty of the weapon, the slighty wavy striations in the metal where it was folded hundreds of times to give it both strength and flexibility. He probed deeper with his wizard senses that were highly attuned to magic in all of it's forms and tried to glean the enchantment on the blade.
As Iraldia approaches, Tsakua offers her a bottle of spirits and a piece of bread. Noticing her limp, he moves over and puts one arm under her shoulder.
"Lass, ye're needin' some rest I'm thinkin'. It stinks o' soldiers in the barracks there, but ye can rest and eat while we find someone to tend yer wounds."
The magic that was held within the blade was ancient. It reacted to Octavian's probing, recoiling at his wizards touch. Unfortunately this was a magic that wouldn't be able to be identified in any other way then its direct application. Though Octavian did learn that the magic was alive with the blade, though it was probably not a sentient magic sword at all, but it almost had the makings of it.
Jietin wearily trudges into the room, eyeing the weapon. Damn fine blade. "Let's worry about identifying it later. We need to leave."
Morbidly curious at what new scoldings the wizard had for her now, Luca gives Xaeken a half-smile before heading to where Octavian stood. Seeing the sword, Luca's eyes narrow.
"Octavian, yes," she asks, not sure of the man's name, "is this why you called for me?"
"Yes." Octavian said simply before handing the blade to her. "Very old, dwarven make. Can you make out the clan?"
No scolding's intended, Octavian only wanted to see what would happen should a dwarf hold the dwarven sword and should nothing happen leave the keeping of the weapon to someone more able to use it then him.
Zorgg wonders over looks at the sword and casts detect magic.
I am pretty sure that sword is nothing special.
Breewyn was ecstatic to find some bandages and first aid implements. She moves around the camp, Marra following, trying bandage the moderately hurt, and if necessary use magic to help those fairing far worse.
Luca takes the sword in both her hands and begins looking it over.
"Where did you find this," Luca asked Ocatavian, her eyes fixed on the blade turning in her hands.
As Tsakua helped Iraldia find somewhere to rest, he saw the gnome and the...human, moving around, carrying bandages. He hadn't been too sure, but he thought he'd seen both her and Iraldia helping fight the guards earlier.
So this is freedom, he thought. Tsakua set Iraldia down with her back to the barracks wall and began jogging over to the strange pair.
Deep down, Tsakua knew humans weren't all bad. The one following the gnome even reminded him of her. Tsakua shook his head, trying to dislodge old memories.
"Oy, you two," he barked, a little harsher than he meant. "We've one that can't walk over here." Scowling a little more than he meant, Tsakua shook his head again. Frustrated, he was, that his strength and his fists had been near useless in the fight that had taken place. Turning, he walked back to Iraldia, not looking to see if the other two were following.
Octavian didn't answer immediately but instead turned to look over the pile of weapons and armor that were obviously not from from the guards. Through his objectivity he couldn't but help and see that various souls that were attached to the gems and other items out of place in the simple mine fort. The old messages from his own people came drifting from the nether regions of his memory sometimes overly crowded with arcane formula about the passage of their souls from this life to the next.
When Vulcan descended and changed his people from their human roots he had neglected to mention that with his death their sanctuary in the afterlife was gone. Not moved, not changed, just gone. For most long lived Ilidari that wasn't a terrifying thought as there was more then enough time for aged members of the species to record everything they had learned and place it within the great library. They didn't fear death because in a way that had achieved immortality.
That's such cold logic. Is it enough?
In dwarven he began to speak softly. "We are here such a fleeting amount of time and so often we only think about survival. Do think that when they died they were thinking only of living?" He turned and looked at Luca with sad eyes. "I found that with the other items confiscated from other slaves. I imagine it's previous owner now walks in Valhalla, happier then they ever were alive. There is old magic in the blade and I cannot call it forth. Wield it with honor and remember those who came before."
Breewyn was looking around when suddenly. "Oy, you two," was barked at her, causing her to jump a little. Her head swiveled and her wide, sleep-deprived eyes looked up at the intimidating man. He looked orcish, but no he wasn't entirely. She meekly managed to say a "Yes?" before she was cut off with another barked order. She nodded, following him over to where the fox-person was propped up, her back against a wall. She took her time assessing the condition of her 'patient.'
She smiles, taking a bandage from the human and helping bind the wounds.
After a moment or two of careful tending, she stands up straight. She has a grin beaming on her face. "She's almost right as rain, as long as she keeps resting, I dare say she'll make a complete recovery." She looks up at the green man, and her grin widens more, giving her an impish and immature mirth. Then she looks at him a bit more closely, seeing his injuries as well. "You're hurt too?! You need tending to?" She asked, her eyes becoming more serious, but not losing their innocent quality.
Tsakua reaches up and touches his head, and finds a goose-egg his head over his left eye-brow. Wincing just a bit as his callused hands touch the bruising lump, the pain in his shoulder comes back to haunt him as well.
He starts to scowl at his clumsiness earlier, but then notices that Breewyn's concern is sincere. "Tain't more than a lump, and it'll match the set I've got goin'. Little to do but sleep it off, but ye're more than welcome to do what you can."
Flopping down to sit on the ground, Tsakua extends a hand to the gnome. "Dunno if I've mentioned it before, but the name's Tsakua."
"Breewyn!" She took his hand in hers. She timidly adds, "Friends call me Bree though." She turns to Marra, "And this is...um... She frowns, deep in thought, pausing. Crap!! Her name is...? Did she say her name? Surely she did! Think Bree! She scrunches up her face as she tries to remember the human's name in vain. "A-...V-...Sarah?" She looks rather sheepishly, trying hard to pass off that she knew her name. Turning back to Tsakua, she carefully examines his injuries.
Jietin stumbles into the room, still heavily wounded from the battle. He grunts and slides down the wall, trying to clear his vision of the fading edges of it. Stay up, can't be falling over now. Never know if more guards will show up...or if these guys will decide I'm more threat than ally. He gives a grunt to the little gnome, almost embarrassed. "I could use a look over..."
Breewyn hears the thud of a large figure slumping against the wall. She looks away from Tsakua just long enough to meet eyes with the demonic eyes and horned features of the warrior. She jumps a little, as she sees him covered in blood. His, theirs, it was hard to tell how much of it was from his own wounds, but he looked like he was in a pretty sorry state. She quickly turned to him and muttered a soft prayer.
She feels the energies radiate out from her and it appears that he was healed some, but not a large amount. She pouts some, seeing how little she managed to mend his wounds and huffs as she tries again.
She feels herself becoming drained, as the energy from the second spell begins to wane, and she looks very tired. The circles around her eyes appear to get darker some, standing out more against her pale white skin.
The sight of the heavily wounded tiefling startles Marra greatly, causing her to nearly drop the bandages and other items in her arms. She'd been silent thus far as she followed Breewyn and met the orcish-looking man, still remaining cautious around these new 'companions.' Looking upon the tiefling's injuries, and the pouting face of the gnome as she cures his wounds brings a hesitant look to the cleric's face. Perhaps I've misjudged... they - no, at least some, some of them seem decent people.
As the gnome begins to look more and more exhausted to Marra, the cleric's hesitant face turns into a worried frown, and she lets out a small sigh. Her worries and thoughts could come later. Let me not forget of my duty - no, it is more than my duty. She crouches slightly, trying to lower herself to the gnome's level. "...It would be remiss in my duties not to help you in a better capacity, Breewyn. I can take over from here... take it easy for the time being." She pauses.
"I go by Marra, by the way."
Breewyn looks up at Marra with tired eyes, smiling weakly. "Marra, that's right. Silly me, I knew that." She lets out a sigh as she slips to the side, sitting heavily on the ground. She didn't realize how tired she was until just this moment, as she struggled to remain upright while sitting. She wasn't even fully certain she could stand again. "Yes if you could take over, I think I am going to have a little nap. She almost yawns as she slumps back against the floor, her eyes becoming unfocused as she gazed up at the ceiling. It felt like her world was slowly spinning, making her feel dizzy as well. "Oh wow, never saw a spinning ceiling before...I wonder how they do that..." She then promptly falls asleep, snoring lightly.
At Bree's collapse, Tsakua stood up. He may not have been the brightest in the group, but he could see that they were all in need of a meal. "If ye'll tend t' these three, I'll get us some real food," he said curtly, nodding to Marra.
Moving over to the table where he had set the provisions, Tsakua begins organizing the breads, meats and cheeses, and begins making some simple sandwiches. Looking across the room, he eyeballs the small group that has come indoors, trying to gather his thoughts. Bree was a friend, and good to have about, even if she did seem excitable, but he wasn't sure what would happen with the others.
Looking out the window, he searched for signs of the others. He wanted to speak with the blue man, or the dwarf, and find out why they weren't all in the belly of the dragon that had visited.
Jietin snarls and curls his lip as his wounds itch, magically knitting together. After a moment the pain and haziness is significantly reduced. He gives a satisfied grunt and turns to thank the gnome, but finds her already fast asleep and pale from her efforts. Poor lass. Not all wounds are physical. He slowly stands and gently picks up the gnome, resting her over one shoulder so she's not left behind. He looks to the others. "Like I said before, we need to leave."
Iraldia is pleasantly surprised at the orc's gentle nature. She smiled and accepted his help after a swig of drink, "Thank you my friend. I've slept in smellier places." She eased back into the bunk to rest, "I'm Iraldia by the way. And this is Gommie" she motioned to her canine companion. As the orc left, she quickly fell into a much needed rest to heal and recover from the days events.
Before Luca could respond to him Octavian holds a hand up and listens to the barracks were most of the group had gone in for healing.
He hears bare murmurs coming from the barracks and a sneaking suspicion begins to dawn on him. He glances over at Luca and says "Keep an eye out. I'm going to check on the ones in the barracks. We can't stay here very long, we're vulnerable to some of the larger creatures in the forest."
He walks over to the barracks and pushes open the door. He sees Jietin standing there with the gnome over one shoulder and fast asleep. He sees the fake human shapeshifting guard asleep next to her large canine companion and everyone but Jietin getting comfortable. "OI, YOU'RE NOT SLEEPING NOW! THE SUN IS ONLY AT MIDDAY AND WE ARE VULNERABLE! GET UP AND GET READY TO PACK AS MUCH AS YOU CAN CARRY AND WE'RE LEAVING!" he suddenly bellows as loud as he can.
Breewyn jerks some, Huh? What? She rubs her eyes, and slides down Jietin's side some. "What's going on?" She stumbles some, trying to make her way to the door. "Is something wrong Oct-oct-octaaaaaavian?" She manages to yawn as she walks over to the blue man, looking up at him. Turning to look back at the ragtag group scattered about the barracks. Returning her gaze to the stern countenance of Octavian, she kind of feels scolded as she walks past him and outside, hearing nothing but the sounds of the forest with chirps and calls of the different wildlife.
The kitsune snaps up, sword drawn. "WHA..! What? WHAT?!" She growls staring at Octavian, "What is the meaning of this wizard?"
Tsakua jerks his head up at the sound. Narrowing his eyes, he finishes making sandwiches. Going over to Breewyn, he turns her around, sets her in a chair, and begins passing out sandwiches to all. He was pleasantly surprised to see the huntress react, and sat down with his own sandwich. Leaning back in a chair, he put his feet up on the table, waiting to see what would come.
Chewing carefully, Tsakua savored the simple sandwich and enjoyed the brief rest.
"Thank you for healing them little one but I have another job for you." Octavian said. He pointed to the opened boxes where several unknown potions were. "I need you to try and ID every potion in those chests. There may be some that will help with healing in the future so we may need them."
He turned back to the rest of them and his face as unyielding. "Jietin I need you to choose the weapon you are most likely to use in the future. Later today I will enhance it with adamantium. Also start packing things in the backpacks and bags that we've found. We also need to find a way to take as much of ore as possible. Small items of high worth get packed first because they come in very handy if we come across merchants friendly to non humans."
He looks at the bare handed fighter. "My name is Octavian. Since you are doing such a fine job with food I need you to track down every bite you can and tally how many days we have with all the people we have. Don't worry about water, I can summon as much of that as we need. When you are done with that help Jietin start packing. Grab some armor and weapons if they will be of any use to you."
He sees the fighter ignore him and start feeding people with a pointed look. He debates whether or not to challenge him but after a moments thought conceded at the least everyone needed a full stomach. "Fine, everyone eat your fill first. Then please do what I asked of you. It is necessary for us to depart quickly."
He then looks over at Iraldia glaring at him with sword drawn. He stared at her without changing expression. He noticed the bow she had laying next to her and nodded slightly. "You will be our scout and hunter. We will be running short on food within a couple of days so that will be one of your jobs. I'd suggest you tally all the arrows and find a way to carry them as well as scavenging bow strings from all the weapons you won't be able to carry. Once you are done with that I need you back on the wall and keeping an eye out in case anything decides to investigate the scent of fresh blood now that storm is passed. They will start to rot within a day or so."
He moves over sits next to Marra who had the bandages in her hands. He stares at her the hardest for several seconds before turning so she could see the wound on his shoulder and leg. "You are brave human. Thank you for seeing past through the hate so many of your kin seem to have. If you are willing I took my own share of wounds in the battle."
Zorgg looks at all the people getting bandaged up, or doing the bandaging. He thinks to himself, These people are much weaker than the goblins.
When Zorgg hears Ocatavian tell the bare handed fighter to go get food, that is all he can think of. Zorgg immediately runs over to the mess hall. So hungry. What can I eat.
Zorgg looks for something to eat, anything. He even trys to take a bite out of a table, but decides it is to chewy.
Must eat!