Firbell wakes and stretches, kicking his legs until and annoyed Gigma gets off of them. He groggily goes about packing up and assisting where needed. A little while on the road he turns to Sturgiss, a bit uncertain, "I had the oddest dream last night, I think. You were... on fire." He coughs and turns his head away, clearly uncomfortable, "Silly isn't it? hehe... you didn't right? Catch fire I mean."
Belvica packs her gear and moves over to Firbell, "I had a dream about that blue marky thingy, very strange yes?"
Firbell looks over at her, "A dream? What kind of dream? What happened?" He looks at her with interest, curious what her experience could mean.
The king hops onto his horse and checks with each of you as he prepares to depart. "Ready to go everyone?"
The trail is also very quiet today. You see the occasional traveller making their way along the road. At about midday you reach a cross roads and the king stops momentarily to look at an old signpost near the intersection.
To Firbell, "Me seen a the blue mark and it said Kel Mar, Arkan and then the blue marks was strucks with a silver bolt and thens I looked and saws two humans firing bolts at mese but not mese the marks"
To the king's question, "Yup, my excellency!"
Later at the signpost, "Mister King, left, right or straight?"
Sense Motive
Firbell wakes and stretches, kicking his legs until and annoyed Gigma gets off of them. He groggily goes about packing up and assisting where needed. A little while on the road he turns to Sturgiss, a bit uncertain, "I had the oddest dream last night, I think. You were... on fire." He coughs and turns his head away, clearly uncomfortable, "Silly isn't it? hehe... you didn't right? Catch fire I mean."
Sturgiss keeps quiet for a moment as he triple checks all the straps on his horse. "Well...yes and no". "I didn't really 'catch' fire, but I have been known to throw out a few minor flaming orbs as I sleep". "Nothing to be concerned with, I really only do it when I'm really tired". "And I think if a lose a few pounds it might stop altogether really, but...". Just the same it might be wise to give me a couple steps distance while I'm sleeping". And with an embarrassed smile Sturgiss mounts his ornery mount, and prepares for another day in the saddle.
Firbell shakes his head as he tries to understand, "What do you mean; the two humans were not the ones who struck the blue mark?"
Firbell's mouth hangs open a bit before he realizes he's starting, "That's an interesting perspective, a flaming orb being described as normal. What does you weight have to do with it?" The druid seems genuinely curious.
"Indeed, your Lordship, surely we can't be lost already." he says with a voice full of humor.
The king looks back to the group and smiles halfheartedly..."No...we're not lost. I was just thinking how long it's been since I've been at this intersection."
He turns onto the road to the left and continues speaking."Up ahead was where we drove the rakes back through their tunnels and set them ablaze. It was that battle where my father was killed by one of those ugly creatures, and I became king shortly thereafter. In all my time since my coronation, I haven't really visited this place again." He looks solemn as he remembers the moment.
Firbell tries to better attune himself to his animal, specifically the mechanics of riding the beast, and fails dismally. Constantly falling, drawing bites and tail-whips of irritation from his beast, the cave-druid settles himself for a miserable trip astride this monster of a horse.
His difficulty riding doesn't take away from his attention to his surroundings, and he grins as he slowly comes to realize that the world above-ground isn't nearly as bad as he'd feared, except for the knowledge that he could be sucked or taken into the huge blue void above his head at any moment and any time.
On several occasions during the next few days he stops and rushes off into the woods and each times returns with arms full of berries or a carefully cleaned and gutted rabbit or handful of small forest animal. He also is able to locate more than one water source, encouraging all to drink and refill waterskins if they so desire.
"They were, they shot the mark with dem bolt"
Knowledge Geography
Survival
Perception
Belvica takes off early after asking the king where they should meet later and disappears in the forest. She is able to use the terrain features and such and always makes it to camp first.
She hunts and takes down a boar the first day, a deer the second and a ram on the third day. She is able to gerry rig herself a cloak out of the ram.
She does not detect that they are being followed or she thinks they are when they are not.
Heal
Sense Motive
Ride
Sturgiss goes around every night, and tends to saddle sores, blisters, and any slight injuries to the mounts. He also gives advise about the diet, and how to keep from getting sick.
He also spends time talking to all the members of the party, getting to know them, and try to figure out if their intentions are in-line with their stated objectives.
After falling off the horse for the fourth time on the second day, Sturgiss gives up and begins to walk leading the horse. "Go on ahead of me". "I'll catch up".
As you reflect on the 3 day journey you realize how much you gave to the quest. You recall on the first night how Duran bravely sacrificed himself to save the king when a group of Nightherders attacked. He gave you all just enough time to get away.
And you remember how Klothar's cart got stuck in the gap of a bridge, allowing you to cross safely. And how rather than leave his supplies Klothar stayed behind to find a way out himself.
But now here you are much farther down the trail and you can see the wall just at the edge of the horizon.
The king pulls his horse off to the side of the path and dismounts."We shall stop here for the night and make it the rest of the way in the morning." He looks grim and you can tell that the journey is wearing him down. He starts a fire and sits by it with a hunk of bread and cheese.
Firbell, sheds a tear as he reminisces about his little known, but stalwart companions who were left behind. But he must look to the future, and assisting his King however he can. He joins the king at the fire with more of the simple traveling fare. "We'll get there your highness, don't worry." Gidma lays in the dirt at Firbells feet, watching the remaining dwarves intently.
Belvica deftly removes the bowels of the ram and sees the king isn't in the best of spirits so she gives him the cloak before she starts roasting the ram.
Here, your excellency! a present! as she curtsys.
Sturgiss...feeling much better today, due to his lack of new saddle sores, takes it upon himself to sing an old Dwarven song of glory and. perseverance. An ancient tune seldom sung even in Cinderkeep, but attempted none the less.
Untrained Perform
But the sound emitting from his throat sounds more like a gasp of pain than music.
Firbell listens as best he can, ignoring Gidma's paws covering her ears, and the wolverine leaves about halfway through. "The ride's getting easier then?" he asks Sturgiss.
The king likewise attempts to listen politely, but once the song is over he prepares his bedroll and lays it on the ground. "I'll take first watch, you three get some sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens."
Firbell nods, hesitant to leave his brooding king along, but feeling the effects of the long road, turns over and goes to sleep.
Belvica lays out her caltrops in a defensive position. Then agrees to take the fourth watch. She curls up in a bed of maple leaves.
Firbell listens as best he can, ignoring Gidma's paws covering her ears, and the wolverine leaves about halfway through. "The ride's getting easier then?" he asks Sturgiss.
"If I never have to ride one of these infernal beasts again it will be too soon". "If nobody minds I believe I'll take first watch, then try to get some rest". "While you guys were resting on your demon mounts, I walked all day".
upon hearing first watch spoken for..."OK then I'll take last watch". , then hearing that spoken for..."Well OK then I'll sleep tomorrow, and take third watch".
Belvica retrieves her caltrops and gets ready for the trip.
Perception:
Perception
Perception
During her first hour of watch Belvica finds herself drifting off in the quiet night air. Suddenly she is snapped awake by the sound of something moving in the darkness just outside of camp.
Her bow being instinctively nocked, she deftly moves to get an eyeball on what's making the noise. Survival
In her hand, a long recurved bow... she nocks a wicked arrow taken from a quiver whose strap parts her perfect unblemished physique, even as she reaches partial cover. From behind cover, you see her beautiful face peering back at you... her supernatural eyes piercing the darkness. She looks over her shoulder at the other two figures then towards you.
Across her face, a rather predatory smile.
[ooc] @Morg, What?[ooc]
Belvica posts up next to a tree with her bow nocked at the ready, waits for the two cloaked individuals.
One of the cloaked figures, the larger one is about the height of a dwarf... But not add broad as one should be. The other is smaller, maybe a halfling. Or some other thing that scurries close to the ground.
The taller one speaks, a short command... Surprisingly in dwarven. Hide now.
The large arachnid archer moves behind more cover, nearly indescernable. But the head of its nocked arrow is unmistakable.
Soon, you make out a near emaciated dwarf and rat-ling. The dwarf speaks softly. Please put away that arrow. Hold onto your bow if you are more comfortable. Who are you? What is your business on these roads?
Belvica's eyes squint never leaving the spider elf nor the other dwarf, the ranger keeps her bow trained and doesn't flinch nor hesitate.
Track(Survival) She doesn't lose track of the spider whatsoever.
"Belvica Insareba, mese be ranging"
Polyglot
Who b youse?
Despite your confidence in your abilities and your best efforts you lose track of the elf-spider. It is gone, so far as you can tell.
No worries, she won't drag your sleeping friends off in a web sac. A bit of cheese, some bread? Water? Morg here. This is Matthias. We won't kill you unless we have to.
Feelings mutual. Well if you be givin food away, Belvica be hungry. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!
Belvica puts her bow on her back and sits on a rock and eats with them.
You be ups early...
Asking for food.
Perception
Sturgiss seems to hear something in his dreams, and begins to bring forth fire, then he realizes it is not the shadow creature, so turns over and resumes his snoring.
Morg's appearance is displeasing to dwarf senses. He is gaunt and not robust or stocky. His face is scarred preventing him from sporting a full beard.
The sides of his head are shaved, revealing more scar tissue and the hair is either red and dyed black in places or black and dyed red in others. There doesn't seem to be anything attractive about Morg, initially.
Matthias is one of the race called ratfolk, rare but not unheard of. Elongated snout, whiskers and all.
me no haves bread nor cheese. Me has ram haunch that needs be reroasted or spider ration. beggn at Odark thirty. Might could be better ways to find food.
She brings the dwarf to the campsite with a flick of her wrist. Restarts the fire and working on the meat.
Thank you. Morg hunkers down, motioning for Matthias to sit. If offered food, he will gratefully accept, eating sparingly.
Matthias looks around the group but shakes his head. "No I am good my friend. I must continue on the path.He pats you on the back, "Best of luck to you." He bows to Belvica and walks off into the darkness. As he gets just back to the center of the road a mist appears and he vanishes from sight.
Having sat down and eaten, Morgs seems to have become extremely tired. His eye-lids droop.
Looking up from his seated position, If you don't mind, Belvica... I'll just sleep right here.
The curious dwarf curls up next to a large stone close by and is quickly fast asleep.
When morning arrives you find a strange dwarf curled up in your midst. The king looks slightly confused by this, and readies his weapon. "Who are you?"
Hearing the commotion Firbell rolls over into a crouch, bleary eyed but trying to act alert. "What go where!" he shakes his head and tries again, "I mean, who goes there?" Gidma wakes as the druid stirs and moves next to him, sniffing the air in the newcomers direction.
Morg is tired, groggy and in no mood for this joker. I'm the piss-boy, did your boots get wet?
A hand reaches to scratch the wide strip of hair on the dwarf's head.
Firbell blinks his eyes a few more times, and in his tiredness checks his boots. "No I don't... Wait a minute. What are you talking about? Your name can't possibly be piss-boy. Why are you in our camp?" Firbell looks over to confirm that Belvica is alive and in camp, and then waits for the response.
The stranger reaches into his pocket lazily, pulling out a strip of cooked meat. He bites into one end, tearing a chuck off.
While chewing he answers matter of factly, Some guys get their boots wet, then try to blame the piss-boy. But, in actuality... they're just a bit short... on equipment. King and soldier alike, they like their boots dry.
The curious fellow chuckles to himself as he takes another bite and rubs his head and scarred cheeks trying to wake up.
Sturgiss starts awake at the commotion, and accidently lets loose a couple of sparks, before he calms down, and remembers where he is. He then lays back and looks in turn at his travelling companions; The King, Firbell, Insnare, The strange looking Dwarf with the weird hair...Wait we don't have a strange looking Dwarf with weird hair in the party...
Sturgiss jumps to his feet..."Who are you"!
that morose looking dwarf is morg.