“Mah recksslissness dinnae keel a halpless bearowl,” the Casns warrior replies as the knight steps out, his hairy face forming a frown.
He watches the druidess inspect the beast, and upon her request, nods “Aye,” and wraps a big hand around one of the hairy spider legs. Resting the massive blade on one shoulder, the highlander uses the other hand to drag the arachnid into the light of the setting sun. He lets the leg flop to the ground, and he shrugs off his pack before returning his sword to the sheathe on his back. Lastly, he picks up the errant spear.
Looking for a place to tie Drexel’s reigns, and finding none, the big man drives his spear into the ground. After beating the butt of the shaft with a rock, the highlander tests the makeshift post with a push. Satisfied, he ties the horse to the spear shaft and pats the heavy horse’s neck.
Beorae finds very little of note within the cave, save for some scattered small bones that may have belonged to a coney or bird. Speaking of meals, however, the druidess finds a white meat inside the legs of the spider, with a texture so soft that it nearly oozes. Moreover, it smells like fishy chicken. Hopefully cooking it might improve the texture and flavor.
After a few incisions, Miss Sevenstone sees that the poison bladder is still intact.
Beorae takes a whiff of the spider meat and decides that they probably have enough food already. She then calls Themp over to the spider's corpse, “It looks like this spider's poison is still intact. Do you think you'd want to use some on your arrows? I get the feeling that we're going to be up to our necks in kobolds sometime in the next few days…”
Nme'an overhears Beorae's question and walks over.
"I would advise against the poison," he says. "Not only is it tricky to apply, it... is... often more harmful that it is good causing. At best it leads only to undue suffering. At worst it takes the life of one who has surrendered to you or would have otherwise been useful. We have made it this far without the aid of poison, do you really want to start using it now?"
"Paladin, we are about to cross kobold territory. Not kobold room. Not kobold dungeon. Not kobold fortress. Kobold territory. It is of my understanding you ran into a few last night. By the look of your armor, they had quite a few tricks up their sleeves."
Giving a long sigh, but holding his steady, serious gaze at Nme'an, Themp continues.
"I'm sorry, but I didn't live this long by taking my chances, by letting the others be the only ones to have a trick up their sleeve. I don't really want to start now."
"You have my advice. It is all I can provide at the moment. Now, I have been awake for two days straight, taken five lives, and..." he looks towards Mot but then shakes his head "...well the rest isn't important right now. I will gladly take fourth watch, if the rest of you do not mind it."
“You are such a mji mvulana, Nme'an. Themp's right, we're going to need some tricks to get us through the pass, and Nature has a way of offering help when you need it most; we just need to be receptive to her suggestions. Plus, I wasn't talking to you,” she chides with a friendly wink.
“And you definitely need rest. Why don't you set up in the back of the cave and we'll get watches going. I recommend that we don't build a fire in case the kobolds come looking for us. No point in lighting a beacon to announce our presence.”
Beorae then retrieves a vial from her bag and carefully fills it with the spider's venom. When she's done, she hands the vial to Themp with a lowered voice, “Careful with that, yeah? It weakens opponents by liquefying muscle. Not pretty, but effective.”
_______________________
Before they turn in for the night, Beorae and Shark work on the “come” command again. The tiger seems to recall yesterday's training with ease, and the hours fly by as the sun sets.
Nme'an scowls a bit about the poison, but goes about reading for the night without further comment. He takes one last look out of the cave and notices Shark's continued limp as he trains. Making himself useful one last time before bed, Nme'an briefly interrupts the tiger's training to provide a small amount of healing magic.
With that, Nme'an removes his armor and turns in for the night.
“Looks like you're figuring that out pretty well. Thanks, Nme'an,” Beorae says to the paladin as Shark nuzzles his leg. The kindness makes her feel a little guilty about the earlier reprimand, and she watches the paladin wearily make his way back to the cave before continuing with training.
"Liquefies... muscles...? Well, that's... nice, isn't it?", says Themp as he pockets the vials.
He then proceeds to sit down right at the mouth of the cave and smears a bit of the poison on his dagger.
"Which watch do you guys want me to take? I wouldn't mind any of them, particularly."
He then picks up two arrows from his stash and carefully dip them in the vials.
However, as he dips the first arrow, his hand slips and the arrow breaks the vial open, splashing venom all over his arm. The slight sting he feels, however, quickly dissipates. Quickly flexing his hand, he gathers the venom must be harmless through simple skin contact and proceeds to dip the second arrow, much more carefully now.
"Heh, oops.", he comments to Beorae, adding a wink to reassure her of any harm.
Themp fetches the last vial and dips a second arrow.
“Themp! What did I just say? You okay?”
"Yeah, it just splashed on my arm. Didn't have any cuts, so I'm good.", he answers with a grin.
As her face refuses to change from preoccupied to calm, his grin slowly fades away.
"Right?", he adds, slightly less confident now.
“Not…exactly. If you don't feel any effects, though, then you're probably fine. Just watch yourself for the next few minutes,” she says with a shake of her head before going back to training.
The Casns warrior idly watches the exchange between the two, raising both caterpillar eyebrows when Themp nearly poisons himself, but soon laughs heartily when his traveling companion seems to be alright. Afterwards his attention turns to Shark’s training exercises, until the oranging sun touches the western horizon and his big eyes blink slowly. “Weeeell, teh floor is callin’ mah nehm. Waek me when yer wotch is over, bootterfengars. Hehehe…”
His bulky frame ducks into the cave, and before long, snores ring out from the dark fissure.
The city scoundrel feels no ill effects after the tingling passes. After a few hours, Shark makes it clear he is no longer interested in training, though the druidess knows that some progress was made in training her tiger companion.
As the others tuck in, Beorae sits with her back to the rock wall, watching out for any trouble with sharp eyes and perked ears.
"So I guess I'll leave first shift for you, Freckles. Remember we're cornered here, so don't try and play hero. Wake us up if anything shows up.", he warns, with the customary wink and grin.
As he lies down, he marks a few notches on the two poisoned arrows, so he can easily tell them apart from the regular ones as he pulls them from his quiver.
Let's hope whatever the hell scorched Nme'an's armor doesn't catch us cornered here while we're still inside. This cave would make a great oven...
Beorae and Nme'an notice one thing: the waning moon offers less and less light each night, and too soon even their elven eyes will be be unable to penetrate the dark. The night passes without incident, and the four sleep soundly. Filtered by overcast, the rising sun manages to emit a pale yellow light over the morning of the late autumn day. The air is crisp, and a single birdsong carries over the quiet, the singer reluctant to begin the dangerous flight south.
Beorae wakes with the sun and packs her bag. While the druidess meditates on top of the rock near their camp, Shark slinks off among the trees looking for a meal.
Rolling over and scratching a hairy ass, Mot glares at the light now filling the cave. Rising to his feet, stance still wobbly as he banishes the last remnants of sleep, he stretches gloriously and heads outside. Patting Drexel on the neck he saddles his mount and climbs aboard, checking to ensure the lance is still secured snugly he looks to their path ahead and waits for the others to be ready to depart.
The big grey tiger lopes back to the druidess as she completes her meditation, lively and full-bellied. The Casns warrior notes that the morning is quiet, the breeze tugs at his beard, and that the paladin has yet to make a trophy headdress of the spider he vanquished last evening.
Nme'an woke from his long sleep in the predawn hours. His shift was quiet and uneventful, he only lamented the fact that there was no fire to help prepare a warm first meal for the others. Instead he exited the cave as the sun began to rise, making sure that the group's morning routine would be undisturbed.
When the others awoke, Nme'an ate a quick, cold meal then proceeded with his own departure preparations. The Paladin spoke little, only responding to any comments made towards him by the others. Only as they prepared to set off from the cave did he make a comment to Beorae:
"Mimi si kama jua hii ya ajabu."
"I do not like this strange sunlight."
As gloom as the weather, Themp drags himself out of the cave and prepares Daisy for the long haul into enemy territory.
"Looks like rain... And here I was thinking this day couldn't get much worse than striding into kobold territory..."
The druidess knows that if clouds are pushed this far north, up against the Komat Mountains, it will most likely rain.
But today’s cloud cover looks considerably lighter, so the four might encounter some drizzle or light rain later in the day. There will also be a wind chill to watch for, but the cold wind might not follow them into the Blackcrag Pass.
Tomorrow, the winds will likely increase, but will not bring any rainclouds with them. The sun might help balance the cold gusts. The day after tomorrow will start with thick fog that will dissipate at noon, but by sundown the earth will be wet again with more rain. The third day from this morning might continue the rainstorm, but hopefully by then the four of them will be on the other side of the mountains.
The four champions of Thaleniel strike out from their camp, making good time back to the mouth of the Blackcrag Pass. Trotting up to the written warning and the hanging bodies, the horses shake their heads and chuff as their riders regard the sheer cliffs on either side of the narrow pass. Looking beyond the entrance, the blackened, jagged rock walls bend the path ahead, a sharp contrast in visibility compared to traveling between a river and open plains. Dry, hardy plants clutch the stone with their roots, and aside from high soaring birds of prey, the ravine silently offers a barren habitat. Dark, knee-high holes pock the uneven surface of the solid cliffs, and the rock faces rise hundreds if not thousands of feet into the air. Twigged nests indicate some high up perches, while other ledges are less easy to discern amid the rock.
Presently, the four see no immediate danger as they stand before the entrance of the fabled territory of the kobold tribes, on the trail for the king's cure and his unaccounted heir.
"Sometimes to my disgrace, occasionally to my credit, I have never been one for mounted combat. Nor have any of you shown particular skill or love of it. Inside this..." the Paladin pauses for a moment trying to come up with the correct common word. "...voice retelling(?) canyon..." he says instead, "...I expect that our horses will make it hard for us to avoid attention, at best. I think it may be better to send them back to the crossing with a note of some kind of our continued travel to prevent any fears of our demise."
Beorae stops when Nme'an suggests leaving the horses, wishing she had prepared Speak with Animals this morning. “You're probably right…”, she says with a soft sigh. “They'll probably be more of a burden through the pass. And who knows what the terrain on the other side will be like.”
The tall beauty removes her pack and belongings from One Sock's back and pats him on the nose with a gentle hand, “गति, अच्छा घोड़े के साथ जाओ. घर अपने भाई और बहन को ले लो.” She knows the horses won't understand, but somehow it feels better to have said at least something to them before they depart.
"Ugh", exclaims Themp, shoulders slumping. "Why is it that every time the paladin is right, I hate it?"
Slowly, with a slighty too theatrical regret posture, he mounts off Daisy. As he unfasten his belongings from the horse, he carries on the minor rant.
"I'll miss not being burdened by my pack..." *shrug* "At least I won't have to worry whether someone has appropriated of them in my absence anymore..."
"When have I not been right?" Nme'an asks as he gathers his pack and sends his horse away.
“Aye, Ah been a-rovin’ on foot since Ah cood wok. Ah dinnae need a wee horsey tah save me wanderin' feet...” says the Casns warrior, sliding off one side of the beast. Pulling his belongings from the saddle, he lastly unbuckles the straps and lets the saddle fall to the ground.
“Go nao, be free. Aet grass and roon fast,” he says softly to Drexel, running a large hand along the heavy horse’s bare flank, until he reaches the backside where he delivers a meaty smack.
Spoken long before the rise of iron and cities, there is much that is said about the mysterious fey tongue, and at times the stories exceed the truth. Still, the proud One Sock lets out one disapproving chuff, before stamping once, twice, and then turning to gallop after the bolting Drexel. A high whinny from the black riding horse causes the other two to jerk from Themp and Nme’an, eager to follow. Rexel circles around and gives chase after the two southbound horses, but gentle Daisy waits as Themp removes the last of his things.
With a snort, Themp answers, half-mockingly. "When have I ever liked what you said?"
"Anyway, are we really sending these horses away to freely gallop wherever they want? Won't the stable miss them?"
"Eff Drexil thinks hoam is at teh castle, that's where he'll go," Mot replies, not taking smiling eyes off the horses, "Eff not, well, then he's free tah wandur as he plaeses."
“Right, Mot. I bet these horses can find their way home easily enough. Either that, or the guards at Axton or the Crossing will find them and hold onto them for us. Or maybe even our elven friends…”
Beorae reaches into her pack and pulls out a slip of paper and a quill, quickly inking a note and securing it to Daisy's saddle.
~B. N. M. T. S.
Gently patting Daisy's nose, Beorae sends the horse after the others, “डेज़ी पर जाएँ. अपने भाइयों को सुरक्षित रूप से घर पाने में मदद करें.”
"I was right when I defended my town from the Goblins..." Nme'an thinks as he watches the four horses head south.
"That canyon is awfully narrow," he says as he turns his gaze back north. "With my armor's noise and gleam, as well as my slow speed, I think it would be best if I guarded our rear. Themp, I think you would be our best forward scout, if you are willing."
"Well, you certainly aren't very... subtle...", agrees Themp, eyeing up the paladin's armor.
"Now", he adds, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "While I do appreciate your praise, I must say I'm not entirely comfortable with the thought. What would I do if I stumbled across a patrol? Shout back and hope they don't kill by the time you come?"
"I mean", the scoundrel continues, a slight twinge of unease rising up, "it's not like I ever had cavalry arriving on my behalf, much less had one to call for... And we all know how well I'd do in a melee against multiple kobolds, I'm sad to admit."
'...I was right when I made my way to Thaleniel...'
Nme'an, still preoccupied with his own previous question, only hears the end of Themp's complaint but does his best to address the rogue's worries, saying, "I did not foresee you going so far ahead as to need to shout back to the rest of us. More likely you would stay within our line of sight or a single turn ahead at most. We have more need of avoiding traps, like the fake burial behind us, or a quick hand signal for the rest of us to be still and quiet, than we need someone looking far ahead..."
"Oh. So I just have to stay some 30 feet ahead of you and remember to signal you for traps?"
"Hmmmmmmmm", Themp theatrically ponders. "I might be able to do that. Being my first time, would you excuse me if I fail an alert or two?", he mockingly asks, adding his signature wink, while setting off ahead. As he passes the pass's threshold, he tightens the elven cloak around him.
...I was right in rushing the wolves to protect the goat, despite not performing as well as I had hoped...
"Ms. Sevenstone," Nme'an says hastily as Themp begins to walk off alone, "With your ranged magic and lesser close combat skills I think it might be best if you stayed near the rear with me."
"Mot, that would leave you in the second position, first to support Themp when he gets himself into trouble, if that is acceptable..." Nme'an says, before bracing for the Big Man's typically brash response.
“Aye, Ah’ll stand betwain ye an’ teh scary wee lizards,” answers the highlander, stepping past the druidess and the knight. Watching the city scoundrel creep ahead, he idly tugs the handle of his greatsword to assure that it is there, and quick to draw. Sniffing the air, the big man listens, wondering what Themp might find around the bend.
Themp soundlessly picks his steps between the scattered broken stones at the base of the cliff walls. Venturing further, he sees no kobolds or clues for hidden traps, save for the fact that the stone faces on both sides are still riddled with small, apple-sized holes at knee-height. It looks like the ravine turns again in about fifty feet.
"Kama Mtu Mkubwa bado anadhani mimi nina hofu na kitu, Kobolds hasa, na hatua hii ... Naam, mimi sijui nini cha kusema," Nme'an says quietly to Beorae with a shrug as they fall in line.
"If the Big Man still thinks I'm frightened by something, Kobolds specifically, by this point... Well, I don't know what to say."
Beorae shrugs her shoulders at Nme'an as she slides an arm through her shield and steps in behind Mot, Shark in tow. She reaches up, pulling the Elven hood around her face and hiding her eyes in shadow.
Beorae can see that the fist-sized holes were carved away by tools, and are not naturally occurring. They bore into the rock only a few inches before opening into a bigger, dark area, such as a room carved inside the stone. While the holes vary in exact height and shape, the fact that they continue along the rock face only a couple feet off the ground suggest a continuous corridor within the rock. These could be peepholes or arrow slits for the devious lizard race.
Seeing the way clear up to the next bend and completely oblivious to how unnatural these holes actually are in a common ravine, Themp turns back to his companions and shrugs, motioning them forward.
"I'm glad you seem to know what you are doing, Themp. Sneaking into a narrow space with heavy armor with ample chance for one's path to be cut off... was exactly what I was not taught to do..." Nme'an whispers as the party catches up to Themp at his first stopping point.
The big man takes ponderous steps toward the scout, leaning forward to get a look at the path ahead. A squint of suspicion takes his face when he sees nothing of importance, and after a moment he shrugs and waits for Themp to lead the way.
Moving a hand over the holes, Beorae quietly says, “There's a corridor on the other side of the rock, these holes are for watching—or shooting at—people in the pass. The kobolds may not attack us from out in the open.” As she speaks, the druidess lowers her shield to cover as many of the holes as possible as she passes.