Donatello stands awkwardly prolonging his look out into the countryside. Not wanting to interrupt the discussion of the Captain and what seems to be the leader or head priest of this little town - but at the same time not wanting to just wander off.
He is saved from his dilemma when Ysanne waves at him. Nodding an apology he makes his way over as if summoned.
"Donatello. Nice place, this."
He thrusts a hand out, offering (almost demanding) a handshake.
"How many additional Colonists did you bring? What about tools, weapons, supplies and equipment?"
As Septimus continues his conversation with Ysanne, Donatello realises he's intruding. His hand drops to his side, he mutters a quiet "Sorry to int'rupt" and backs away.
Mingling. Why did it have to be mingling?
Desperately casting his gaze around the growing crowd he spots a young half-elven woman staring at him and holding a staff topped with a man reading a book.
Quarterstaff. Man with a book. Must be Nethys? Worked out I'm a practioner, maybe. If I want to start a school, probably going to have to get her on side. Make it good, old son.
Donatello makes a beeline for the stationary Sorala. This time he holds off from sticking his hand out, but bows slightly.
"Donatello. Call me Don. Nice staff - Nethys, right?"
Pamodae can't help but grin at Vallen's welcome, and she shakes is hand and Septimus's as well. Then she looks back over the bay and shakes her head, clearly bothered by the appearance and disappearance of the other ship. But she turns her head to business soon enough.
"I am glad to find you well," she says. "We had set out to find you, and it was the pure luck that we crossed paths with the Laughing Lillend near the Arch of Aroden. Captain Kynack told us where to find you, as well as of your voyage and the troubles you faced upon landing."
"When I heard his tale, we thought it best to let our people know what they faced. We set out with a hundred souls, though half that number returned to Absalom aboard the Lillend. The rest are here," she gestures to the ship, and the boat which is making a second trip. She goes through the inventory of supplies that they've brought.
Meanwhile, the crowd on the beach is growing as word reaches the fort that there is no danger. Among the people who are milling about are a surprisingly well-dressed Taldan woman who introduces herself as Sandra Thayer, and who points out her brother Edmund, who is commanding of some kind of guard and asking the captain about weapons. There is an elven woman called Manari, a fat Mwangi half-orc called Ingwe and three hobgoblins who stand back from the multitude and watch closely.
Septimus looks around to see who appear to be the leaders of these new colonists.
Sorala smiles to Donatello, unconsciously pulling the staff away from the man as she does so. "Not Nethys, Garrack Tharn. My husband." Sadness creeps into the corner of the linguist's eyes, but she holds her smile. "He's no long with us... exactly. It has been a strange month, to say the least." Nodding to the man's musket, Sorala says, "Is that some kind of trumpet? Are you a musician? We're having a feast in a few day's time. You'll have to play something."
--------
Waving the hobgoblins to her, Sorala smiles and points to the Wasp's Tail. "Daeth canŵ mawr dros y môr mawr, o wlad bell. Bydd mwy yn dod. Byddwch yn gweld Nid wyf yn jôc, neu'n gor-ddweud, pan yr wyf yn dweud ein bod yn ffrindiau da. Ffrindiau da, cryf, gyda llawer i roi eich pobl. Bydd gorachod a dwarves ofni ni, gwasgu fel bug dan sawdl, os nad ydynt yn ffrindiau.."
She trails off, leaving the implication hanging in the air, of what will happen to the goblins if they become hostile to Newspring.
As Septimus watches the new arrivals, he notices a few seeming to seek instruction from an older man with a grey beard and a gnarled staff. He climbs nimbly out of the boat and wades onto shore, looking around him. When he spots Septimus, he gives a nod and walks towards him.
"Francis Cullen," he says. "You have the look of a person in charge."
"Septimus Gar, resident healer. If you are looking for someone with a formal leadership position, I am the wrong person. Though I can introduce you to the various council members currently here, if you wish. Are you the leader of these colonists? "
Vallen crosses his arms over his magnificent beard, nodding his head as the Captain lists off her supplies. ]Is she here under a sponsor? Or did the colonists pay for their fare? Ah, it matters not, this is a blessing no matter the source.
"Captain Kynack is one of the few reasons we are still here. He fed us out of his ship for nearly a week before departing- Thank Torag he encountered you on the arch, he may have rescued us again by directing you here." The dwarf gestures to the bay area. "We have already named the bay Lillend Bay, or Kynack bay, depending on who you ask... We have no shortage of geographical features to name- I conjecture the Pamodae Straits or the like will be next." He says with a smile.
Vallen allows Edmund and Sandra to get their pieces in, nodding his head to the acquisition of a substantial amount of weaponry. A group of crossbow users and a spear unit would help our defenses immensely. He turns to Sandra and Edmund. "Sandra, Edmund. I believe this fortuitous turn of events calls for a town meeting. We should introduce these newcomers to our ad hoc rules, and figure out how to handle this influx of food and goods. I believe we may be able to eat slightly better, for a time."
Ysanne wanders away from Septimus and his direct to business approach and goes about chatting up random colonists and keeping a waiting eye out for when Bebop is brought ashore. Once the buffalo and her tools are brought ashore she asks a few men to assist her with carrying the heavier supplies farther up from the water and uses the opportunity to ask about how the weather is, local events, good gossip, etc etc.
"Sorry..." Donatello siezes on the offered subject change like a drowning man to a liferaft. He pulls out the weapon and cheerfully (and rapidly) explains it, spinning the weapon to show the various features as he mentioned them.
"Trumpet? No, it's a Musket - a type of gun. Black powder and a lead bullet go in here. Pulling the trigger does this, and the black powder explodes. The barrel channels the explosion and pushes the bullet out fast enough to punch through plate mail. Now, this one's a Mage Gun. You see the runes on the barrel? They conduct arcane energy along or into the barrel. Longest range I've hit a target was 1500ft, but I was cheating."
He pauses "You want to hold it? It's empty."
=====
When Sorala calls over the goblins Don hides his discomfort.
After her conversation he tries a few words in different languages he knows, hoping for some common ground.
"Oh. OOOoohhhh!" Sorala's attention is rapt, the woman imitating Donatello's movements, committing them to memory in case she ever has to use on of these weapons herself. "I've heard of these weapons, but I've never actually seen one before. Can you make them?"
--------------
Sorala smirks a little as Donatello speaks. "Hovoríš so mnou? Да, аз говоря джуджетата. এলভিস বহমান ভাষা খুব. U tounge od Fey, agus goblin, agus an chanúint, a peculiar beag, labhair siad anseo."
Ysanne mingles among the settlers and learns about the swarms of giant ants, the dragons that hunt the shore, the empire of Dagon-worshipping dwarves, and the deadly, flesh-eating fey that lurk behind every rock and blade of grass.
A few of the men that have gathered are easily roped into carrying her bags, but they have barely cleared the surf when they are interrupted by a sharp whistle from a Katepeshi woman with a spear.
"We all pull our own weight. So can she," she says, and the men stand scratching their heads for a moment before they go to help unloading the bulkier goods from the ship.
===
Pamodae laughs at Vallen's suggesting they name something after her.
"I'm not sure I want the main passage in and out of here to carry my name," she says. "Or anything else for that matter. But if I was to learn a place here had been named to honor the lady in the room, I'd be very pleased."
"We should meet," Sandra says. Then she smiles and clears her throat, expectantly. It takes Pamodae roaring for quiet before things quiet down, enough for be heard by all, but when she does speak, her voice is glassy and charming as ever.
"Welcome to Newspring," she says, her voice carrying over the beach. "I am Sandra Thayer. As you will see, we have just begun to establish ourselves on these shores, but there is room for all. Our settlement is through the woods here, and for the safety of all, I would ask that you stay close by. These lands are beautiful and bountiful, but not without their dangers." She looks around her and nods her head. "I think once we've unloaded the ship and brought things to the settlement, it will be time to eat, and then our council will explain our situation and find a place for each of you."
===
Francis Cullen raises a single eyebrow at Septimus's self-assessment, and then nods. "I wouldn't say I'm the leader. I give advice and help where I can. Some respect me for it. As I'm sure they respect your healing. I don't think there's any rush for me to meet the council yet. Right now, I just was thinking of finding a quiet place where I wouldn't be in anyone's way."
===
The hobgoblins approach Sorala as she invites them, and they look completely disinterested in the musket. When she speaks to them, they nod thoughtfully, and seem to have received the message. For a moment.
"Ydy hi am i ni feddwl y gall y llong hwylio i'n bryniau?" Gwenci mutters. Sharpeyes snorts and seems to be trying not to laugh, but Rhyfelwr is studying the ship carefully.
Ysanne mingles among the settlers and learns about the swarms of giant ants, the dragons that hunt the shore, the empire of Dagon-worshipping dwarves, and the deadly, flesh-eating fey that lurk behind every rock and blade of grass.
The dwarf priest listens to Sandra's speech quietly, nodding his head in agreement with her decisions. "Well said, Sandra... food is on everyone's minds right now." He mumbles at the end, not really making the comment to anyone in particular.
Deciding to make himself useful, Vallen excuses himself to begin picking up cargo from the shore, carrying a stubbornly large amount of goods with every trip.
Sorala smiles at Gwenci, and offers a soft, small laugh. "Wrth gwrs nid, Gwenci. Fi jyst am i chi wybod y bydd Newpsring yn gyfaill da i Broken Goblins Benglog. Bydd eich pobl yn lledaenu bell ac agos, ac ni hefyd. Byddaf yn mynd i gael beiro a phapur ar gyfer bodloni'r noson hon."
Turning to leave, Sorala notices Rhyfelwer studying the ship intently. "Hoffech chi ddysgu hwylio? Cychod Newspring yn llawer llai nag Tail Wasp, ond gellir eu trefnu."
Francis Cullen raises a single eyebrow at Septimus's self-assessment, and then nods. "I wouldn't say I'm the leader. I give advice and help where I can. Some respect me for it. As I'm sure they respect your healing. I don't think there's any rush for me to meet the council yet. Right now, I just was thinking of finding a quiet place where I wouldn't be in anyone's way."
"That can be arranged. Do you require assistance with your belongings?"
Septimus will take Francis to Newspring and help him find a quiet spot to stay.
Francis holds up a small sack and smiles.
"This is all I've brought," he sighs. "I'm afraid everything else I owned was required for my share in the trip's costs."
He follows Septimus back to Newspring and they find a place near enough to be safe, but fairly well hidden by a screen of undergrowth.
===========
Rhyfelwr glances at Sorala and nods.
"Gwlad Mae'r coblynnod 'yn llawer o ddyddiau cerdded. Rhy bell i daro yn erbyn, ond gyda llong, byddem yn mor gyflym ag y maent."
Gwenci's face turns into a grimace as he thinks, and then says. "Good friend. Hobgoblin too."
"I will leave you for now Francis and let you get settled. I believe some of the council wish to address everyone after the evening meal."
Septimus will then look for Vallen. He waits quietly until Vallen is alone and approaches him.
"Vallen, I am the only one that is concerned by the arrival of these new colonists. They seem to lack any real organization, don't appear able to defend themselves, and most look like they are simply more mouths to feed. Hopefully I will be proved wrong and they begin to put what supplies they brought to use but I am not hopeful of that."
Vallen jumps as Septimus soundlessly approaches him, the dwarf recovering quicker than usual- he must be getting used to it. Listening to the man's words, Vallen sighs and nods his head sadly. "Aye. They are more mouths to feed right now. But they came looking for a home, and we will give them one. We must maintain a strong sense of community, and welcome everyone with open arms. They will become useful as they get settled in."
Ysanne is a bit perturbed at the spear wielding Katepeshi woman.
A two thousand pound animal and all these tools are clearly more than my weight by nearly twenty times, are you blind?!
Standing there a moment Ysanne bites her tongue from giving the stranger a lashing, and eyes the woman with disapproval. Then she notices a dwarf carry things up the beach.
"Excuse me, sir! Over here! Can you give me a hand, I could use some help.” she calls with a wave while keeping her animal steady.
Vallen is completely loaded down with all manner of tools and goods, including a barrel of food strapped to his back. He pauses as he hears someone calling for assistance, identifying the source and determining it was addressing himself.
The grey-robbed priest walks over, eying the oxen as his mind churns with uses. We should have someone build a cart. This is the only pack animal in the whole town... Icy blue eyes turn their attention to the woman. "Welcome to Newspring! I am Vallen Silverclasp, Servant of Torag- smith, mason, architect, and at the moment a simple laborer. I'm currently at my limit, but why don't you use your oxen there to carry your goods?" He suggests, willing to lend a hand and rope to affix the required items to the beast of burden.
"Oh. OOOoohhhh!" Sorala's attention is rapt, the woman imitating Donatello's movements, committing them to memory in case she ever has to use on of these weapons herself. "I've heard of these weapons, but I've never actually seen one before. Can you make them?"
Yep. Takes some nice stuff to make one though. Mak'n ammo tomorrow, if you want to see."
--------------
Don stands still for a second, thinking. By that time Gwenci is deep in conversation with Sorala, and he waits patiently.
"I only caught the start of what you said. Impressive. I was trying to talk to this guy. Looks like he speaks a little Taldan though - going to make this harder. I'll go slow if you can help translate."
Misunderstanding why Sorala has called over the Hobs, Don starts repeating his lecture, speaking slowly and clearly.
"Hello. I am Don. This is a Musket. A Musket is a type of Gun..."
She laughs, "Oh no, Bebop is a buffalo, not a male cow ox. Don't worry though, many do the same unknowingly." Ysanne smiles, "He is my first trained animal, gifted to me by my teacher. Bebop is a proud and brave warrior- aren't you Bebop?"
She gladly welcomes the aid of the helping hand, "Thank you for your help, this isn't as easy without a saddle pack, I was hoping to obtain one here. M'name's Ysanne by the way, and yours?"
"Your help is much appreciated, and I always settle debts. In turn I'll help you with the rest of the supplies along the beach, and maybe you can fill me in on how things work around here and maybe where I can sleep a few nights or at least pitch a tent. So much time and effort was spent just getting here, I am at a loss now that I am here."
Vallen looks a bit confused at the mention of the animal being a buffalo. "A what? Buff-a-lon? I just thought it was an extremely hairy ox..." He studies the animal for a moment before getting some rope, and methodically attaches various tools and satchels to the creature.
The priest listens to the woman as he works, tying off knots. "If you've got a tent, you're one of the lucky ones. Most of us are living under makeshift shelters of sticks, sailcloth, and leaves. The spring is up the beach and there is a small stream many wash in, and where the little ones play."
He glances at the woman for a moment, before neutrally saying- "If you want a really good idea of how things work around here, I'd talk to Sandra Thayer. She's got her head on her shoulders, and is always looking for someone to help manage people around here. We have a council composed of... well.. our numbers fluctuate depending on how cruel this world has been lately, but there are several of us that make decisions for the good of the town, or ask for votes from the people on issues that effect them. You'll see it in action soon, we have much to tell all of you about your new home, and how we're working together to make it a better place."
He finishes loading the goods onto Bebop, and back away from the animal to inspect his work. "There. Should get you to wherever you'd like to go. We're about to have dinner, then we'll find all of you places to call your own. Uh.. food is scare around here.. for the past two weeks we've typically only been eating about half as much as most people. It was honestly terrible at first, but you get used to it after a while, stomach stops grumbling, even." He eyes the buffalo before speaking in a neutral tone. "We're slowly starting to get farms, gardens, and fishing under control, but... if something happens, might want to hide your bison. People get a bit crazy when they're hungry..."
Sorala holds her hand out for the musket. Taking the musket in her hands, the half-elf holds it up at her shoulder, imitating the gunsmith, pointing it at imaginary black birds. "Fascinating. Yes, I'd like to see you make some ammo. I'm usually working with the goblins in the morning, then teaching our people in the afternoon."
------------
Smiling, Sorala begins interpreting for Donatello, knowing that the repetition is probably irritating the hells out of hyperactive Gwenci.
At first, the hobgoblins seem unimpressed with the musket, but as Donatello rambles on, Brighteyes suddenly gasps in understanding.
"Mae'n defnyddio llwch i saethu cerrig. Ddim yn hud, ond fel hud. Gall wneud hyn?" she says, excitedly, and then looks at the musket almost reverently. "A all ddangos i ni sut?"
A moment later, Gwenci gets it as well, but Rhyfelwr's attention is only momentarily distracted from his focus on the ship.
======
The Katapeshi woman scowls at Vallen as he assists Ysanne with loading her buffalo, but seems unwilling to press the issue with the dwarf present. She makes a noise of disgust and turns away, and then sits down heavily, dropping her spear. An arrow is sticking out of her chest.
The few people nearby are stunned, but the woman was standing at the edge of things, and most have not noticed.
Sorala nods to Sharpeyes. "Mae'n dweud y bydd yn gwneud llwch a cherrig yfory. Byddaf yn dod o hyd i chi ar gyfer addysgu."
-----------
Gasping as Ranaz falls, Sorala yells out, for the second time that day, the phrase, "Attack. We're under attack!"
After a beat, she says, "Rydym yn cael ei ymosod!"
Vallen raises an eyebrow at the Katapeshi woman, but because she doesn't press the issue he doesn't as well, not wanting to get into an argument. The dwarf jumps when she appears to slump over, and the arrow sprouting from her chest makes his jaw drop.
Wide, blue eyes search their surroundings for the source of the attack, while he yells in an unusually boisterous voice. "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! SHIELD YOURSELVES! ARCHERS, ARCHERS IN THE BUSH!" The dwarf struggles to remove all of the goods he has strapped to his body.
Vada stops as he finally reaches the beach, the boat having dragged his attention away from his work on his garden. He takes in the sight of new faces and lots of new supplies with a smile on his face.
However, when Vallen starts shouting, he curses loudly. "Of course I had to show up for the worst part..." he complains as he draws his weapon.
Septimus sees the lady drop with an arrow in her chest, he rushes over to see if she is still alive. he unstraps his heavy mace as he runs over. He is unable to see the enemy at this time.
Heal check
Donatello breaks off talking and crouches to his heels, spinning quickly
"Here girl!" he calls "C'mon! Did you just get unloaded?"
Ysanne's speckled eyes narrow at the sight of the sniper retreating into the brush, "There! To the east!" calling as she points and moves to the saddle of Bebop.
With impressive skill Ysanne leaps into her mounts saddle and gives chase, as she closes distance (at like 30ft) she spreads her hand, reaching towards the slender humanoid as if to cast a spell.
Donatello calls out and Saltpeter comes bounding up.
Ysanne sees the shape dashing through the brush towards the forest. Moving through difficult terrain, it only moves 30'.
Ysanne leaps on the buffalo's back, and the heavily burdened beast lumbers slowly towards the attacker.
Septimus runs to check Ranaz. She's not dead, but dying, and he presses a cloth to the wound, carefully easing the arrow back out along the path it went in.
When Vallen shouts, Sandra Thayer looks up from her conversation with Captain Pamodae and sees Ranaz on the ground. She runs towards the Katapeshi, and looks around, desperately. Seeing the direction Ysanne is charging off in, she follows.
Rhyfelwr shouts "Benglog wedi torri!" and races after Ysanne, his glaive at the ready.
Vallen finishes untying the rope that held all of the tools and supplies that were attached to his body, and begins to chase after the galloping beast. "Follow the buff-a-lon!" He says to those gathered around, taking off as quick as a dwarf can.
Gripping her staff tightly in her right hand, Sorala sprints after the bison, catching up to and barely registering Septimus stanching Ranaz's wound. Anger begins to bubble through her head, clouding her thoughts and competing with adrenaline to push the woman faster.
Once he has stabilized the woman, Septimus joins in the pursuit of the coward who shot at them.
Septimus double moves towards the fleeing target.
Vada takes off after the assassin and the rest of the Newspringers, his leg muscles carrying him further and faster than he can ever recall moving before. A cold look fills his eyes as he clutches his weapon.
Donatello spins round as he hears Vallen's call. Not understanding exactly what has happened he does as he is instructed, running towards the "Buffaloon", Saltpeter bounding along excitedly beside him, occasionally ducking ahead and running back.
"I d'know!" he shouts to the dog as he runs "But they all are!"
The sniper continues to retreat, moving another 15 feet into the brush before turning to fire a shot at the woman on the buffalo, but the arrow flies past her and skitters harmlessly into the brush.
Vallen launches himself into the underbrush, cursing and shouting as branches hit his face and snag his robes. Worst of all, a branch catches his beard and rips it out of its clasp, leaving one of the braids dangling freely.
Despite the annoying setbacks he continues to charge through the brush towards Ysanne.
Vada continues to give chase, teeth grit in exertion.
Ysanne cracks a devilish grin at the skittering arrow as Bebop clomps recklessly forward with over a half ton of supplies strapped to the powerful beast.
The sniper catches a glimpse of strange light in Ysanne's Evil Eye as she bares down on him/her.
Ysanne feels her curse brush off of him with little effect.
The sniper sees the huge animal bearing down on him and doesn't seem to want to play anymore. He runs as fast as he can through the thick brush, into the deeper woods.
Sorala continues moving behind the buffalo, trying to run but finding her feet keep sinking into the sand, or getting tangled in undergrowth, or her clothes snagged on branches.