stories, it is true. But perhaps with a grain of truth. We live in a world of gods, dragons and miracles. None of which need to be good. Something is going on.
Rata steps lightly back into the light of the campfire, tossing a gruff-looking man stirring a pot of gruel a rough leather pouch.
”Alright Kino, the deed is done. Now, about that information you had for me?”
The man pulls open the pouch, shoving a few gnarled fingers inside, taking a mental inventory of the gemstones, ”Aye, it appears so. Honestly, I didn’t expect to see you again. That lot is a hard bunch.” He eyes Rata up and down, ”You’re tougher than you look.”
This comment elicits a hardy laugh from the other men seated around the fire, which Rata ignores. Kino continues, ”Yeah, I might’ve heard a coupla guys, fresh off the boat by the smell of them, talking about heading west on the King’s Road, looking to join up with a bandit company or some such. Green something or other. Couldn’t’ve been more than a fortnight ago.”
Rata visibly tenses, his eyes turning to cold slits, ”How many of them were there? Anything about them stand out?”
”They were a group of four when I seen ‘em. One fella had a shock of bright red hair, he wore a rapier from what I remember. And another bigger fella carried the biggest crossbow I’ve ever seen. He doesn’t look like someone whos lost a lot of fights, if you get my meaning. But, hey, it’s your funeral.” That last comment elicits another bout of raucous laughter from the men.
Rata didn’t recall the man with the crossbow, maybe it was the butt of a crossbow that knocked him senseless before he was dumped into the water. On the other hand, he instantly recognized the description of the red-headed man. They fought briefly on the deck before Rata was surrounded.
”And the other two?”
”Nah, nothing special about them." He brings a steaming spoon of gruel up to his mouth, tasting it. Grimacing, he throws the spoon back into the pot causing some of it to splash into the fire, hissing. Wiping his mouth with the back of his already filthy sleeve, he continues, ”Are you really fixin’ to slay them all?”
”You’ve got your gems, that’s all you need concern yourself with. If anyone follows me, when I’m done with them I’m coming back for you.” And with that Rata walks out of camp, never glancing back.
"I think it's dangerous to disregard the stories, even if they are falsehood."
Quickly waking the others. "I think way may have company."
Morti wiped his hands as he caught sight of the trackers returning from the forest--the dwarf had stayed behind to help the villagers with the evening's disrupted chores.
Shaking his head sadly as he heard the recounting of the girl's discovery, he turned to Larrieux. "Hel takes some too young. I would offer my aid to the family; what are the ways here? Shall I dig a grave, collect wood for a pyre?"
Later, in the barn, Morti found himself shaking his head again, this time at Makirut. "Caramir has the right of it -- we cannot just fly from this place and tell them to do the same. They have little enough, and what they do have is here. If there's trouble to be had here, well, let's have it."
Larrieux answers his dwarven companion. "Too early to tell their ways. An odd bunch these villagers. I will help you with whatever needs to be done."
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Larrieux answers his dwarven companion. "Too early to tell their ways. An odd bunch these villagers. I will help you with whatever needs to be done."
The halfbreed nods his head. The skin turned unhealthy yellow from its usual grey sheen. The surface of his skull cracked and scored by stings.
I don't know why I hoped for any different. This is adventure, after all. I didn't ask for a caravan."Very well, then I volunteer for the first watch tonight. I'll wake Morti after midnight."
mak, perhaps you should get some healing. How about it, baron?
"Here you are gentleman. Donations are accepted...for the work of the church of course!"
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"Much obliged, brother. I'd better head out," he smiles.
...
Mak steals into the barn to jostle Caromir from his sleep.
"Wolves are coming, brother. They are close now, help me wake the others quickly." His speech is quick and loud, and may wake the others.
"It appears they are gathering right outside the berg"
Morti sits up and inhales deeply, rubbing sleep from his eyes with one hand and grasping for his hammer with the other. "Who? What? Where are they?"
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Mak pokes his head out the door quickly, only to see a half-clothed man run past with a torch.
From the cracked door he says, "Morti, we've heard some terribly dire, murderous bloodwolves. They are coming to ravage the maters and children, and the hicksam posse outside are going to try and fight them without pants, apparently. I think they can probably handle it, but I was worried you might feel left out if you missed the fight." Mak delivers this announcement in a flat deadpan-manner.
No time like the present to instruct these idiot backwaters in the tried and true Longhunter way.
Mak draws his sword as he continues to watch out through the cracked door.
In his best impression of a longhunter sergeant, "Up and et 'em Millers. These hicks are like to leave the whole damn village undefended and get themselves lost in the weeds."
"Come!" - he rouses his companions - "The villagers are no combatants, they need our aid"
At the scene, he tries to offer some measure of order - "The ones outside pack in tight formation and keep your weapons in front of you! Back to back, or against a wall! Women and children stay inside!"
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Mak leaves behind Caramir, whisked out of the barn before the other sleepers can ask any questions. He heads to Anna's door. He knocks quickly twice, and calls within.
"Anna, it is Makirut. Are all the children here and safe?"
After announcing that, he cracks the door open slightly to check inside.
"Is everyone safe?
Looking around the barn.
"Are there any other ways to get into this barn? We need to secure any other doors. If possible we need to be able to block the main door a bit. Gathering a handful of hay. Let's move some hay. Perhaps igniting some might scare of the wolves or at least be used to slow their approach."
Karl gets up, picking up his staff.
let's avoid the fire shall we. You're likely to set the village alight.
He casts a light spell on his staff, and looks at the party.
anyone know much about wolves?
"Appreciate the consideration," Morti responds to Makirut's back, as the vagabond disappears from the barn.
Collecting his arms, the dwarf stepped out of the barn behind Mak and Caramir, pausing just outside the door to get the lay of the land.
The little chapel had no religious writings in it, it was just a very simple shrine with a few pews, very bare overall, but, in the crazy old coots small quarters off to the side, there was a book of obscure folk nursery rhymes.
Rata stands up from examining the tracks on the weathered trail. It was hard to learn much in the darkness, but he had been following these tracks for some time, and had already guessed the group of bandits to be five or six strong. He listens intently to the sounds of the forest at night, catching a faint glimpse of torchlight through the trees.
And so it begins…
He creeps along the path slowly, bent at the knees, knocking an arrow to his shortbow. Suddenly, a wolf’s cry pierces the night, causing him to stop dead. Shortly thereafter a cacophony of howls surrounds the small settlement. This isn’t normal behavior for wolves… At this point he hears cries of alarm coming from inside the village. It sounds as if they are putting together some sort of defensive effort. Rata quickens his pace to a trot, unsure of what will happen next.
”Assiting the village or no, if I see the red-headed man or the behemoth with the crossbow, the wolves will be the least of their worries.”
Morti called back into the barn to Okrin and Karl, "This barn is one of the biggest buildings here. May be the best hope to shelter everyone -- if we can secure it? ...Now, where'd that elf get to?"
The dwarf moves away from the barn into the open space between buildings, trying to keep the barn and house doors in sight; he keeps a javelin aloft, ready to spear a too-close wolf.
Nodding toward Morti and waving toward any villagers he sees to join him, Okrin steps outside the barn.
"Here. Everyone gather here."
Karl puts his pack on and turns to morti. good idea. But how do we get all the villagers there? They are very spread out. He thinks for a second. If they shut themselves in there homes, the wolves shouldn't get in, should there?
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"Everything is going to be alright. You will be safe here.
Anna, may we gather the other neighbors into the barn? That way we can keep everyone safe together. Here, have you used one of these before?" Mak starts to remove his sword & sheath from his belt and give it to Anna.
If she seems competent, he'll leave his sword with her. Then he'll draw his bow and move to the oppsite side of the village from the mob. He aims to gather villagers from there and cover the town's flank. If he sees the other adventurers, he casts message to keep in touch. "Mak here. Whisper is up."
He trusts his darkvision and doesn't take a good look around just yet.
Karl looks at the barn. seems safe enough he then looks at the mob.
let's go join the brave warriors over there. They may need calming.
He then starts moving over to them.
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If he doesn't see any immediate danger, Mak knocks on the door to (House 10.Levoca).
Then Mak moves to the house south of 10.
Same process, knock on door, convince people to gather. However, his whisper is a bit more harsh this time.
Rata finally comes to the end of the trail and into the village proper, and after hearing the mob at the northwestern edge of the village decides to skirt the edge of the clearing to the east, remaining in the shadows if possible. Giving wide birth to the unsettling field of scarecrows off to his right, he makes his way around peering intently at the buildings as he passes.
If discovered by Mak:
"Ho there, don't shoot! I heard the commotion from the trail and thought I would lend a hand. Wolves don't usually raid a settlement like this, any idea what's provoking them?"
If not discovered:
Rata will hold his position, drawing a bead on Mak, listening intently as he tries to discern if Mak is one of the bandits he's been tracking.
Morti trots towards the milling villagers, shouting as he sees them loose arrows wildly. "Hold yer fire, you pack of ninnies -- you keep shooting blinder than cave rats and you'll end up killing each other before the wolves take a one of you, and who'll raise your children then?!"
Taken aback by this man's force of will, Rata emerges from the shadows, disappointed in himself for being spotted so easily.
"I have no qualm with the good people of this village, but I have reason to believe there be assassins about. From what I can hear, the mob seems to be just that. I'd rather fight with men who know how to handle themselves if it's all the same to you. Less chance of an arrow to the back." And I want to keep an eye on you.
When karl reaches the mob, he listens. Are the wolves near?
He stands ready, staff in hand, waiting for information.
Rata stares at the man's back, unsure of what to make of him.
What an odd man. Claiming I am an assassin in one breath and then leaving his back exposed to me in the next. Confidence or stupidity? Well, either way, he may be one of the men I seek...
Rata carefully shoulders his shortbow, the large sword from his back clutched tight in his hands. Standing a short distance behind the man, feet spread ride, Rata watches his every move.
Caramir rushes to meet the bulk of the villagers where the wolves are approaching. He reinforces Morti's words - "Stand FAST and let them come to us - we have the advantage of arrows, and we will make them pay dearly if they try to approach!"
Turning to the dwarf he adds with a stern nod - [b]"cover my front, and I will make them regret ever leaving the tree line"[/b. - then focusing his sight ahead.