While the leader seems to be staggering from blood loss and is unable to hit Cammy, his lieutenant’s axe takes along Cammy’s flank, leaving a severe gash.
Cammy flinches in pain--but he's ready to defend Hank and his friends to the death!
Cammy chomps at the orc lieutenant, and suddenly there is only about one and two thirds of an orc in the room.
One more spell for me Belliken groans using the last of his energy to cast sleep one last time at the mean Orc boss.
”It can’t… end… like this…” The orc slumps to the ground as his weapon clatters from his hand.
Seeing the awful orc who caused him so much pain fall to the ground next to him, ... I need help... If I lose focus on the endurance of the bear... I will go under again.
Hank rolls over and gives Karthurg a dose of the good stuff. In fact, he starts getting everyone a good dose of that sweet medicine.
Karthurg topped off +21 HP in four charges
Hank healed +11 HP in two charges
Cammy +12 in two charges
Meanwhile he's bantering about how awesome everyone did. "I really thought we were toast there! Good job, Cammy! Someone oughta tie up that orc?
Karthurg stands up, dropping his focus on the bear. He looks done to examine his newly forming scars. He feels perfectly fine, in a odd sort of way. He has 3 huge scars added to his body, covered in his own blood, but the holy light is flowing through him numbing any pain. I thank you Hank. Your power is as mighty as I have ever seen and more useful than any weapon. He then looks to the group. I hope that I have relieved any doubts in your trust due to my ancestry here.
He then looks to the sleeping orc. What is the plan? Do we kill that monster? or do you have some questions for him?
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Phedran pulls his bow over his shoulder, surveying the surroundings of the orc den. "I would propose that the execution of proper justice would be escorting this chieftain of sorts back to town where Mayor Devrin and the townsfolk can see to it that he is punished rightly."
Phedran looks around, examining the various piles of plunder and refuse. "In the meantime, I believe we have a certain jade figurine to find. If we are lucky, these brutes were the ones who took it, and it is still here."
I don't care either way. He was just defendin' his home, but seems like this group here has been making trouble for Sandpoint as of late. We got him incapacitated I say bring him back and show him some civilized justice. At least then the townsfolk get some revenge.
Karthurg sneers at "civilized justice". While he may hate orcs, he has never experienced civilization before and the idea that this orc who he fought so hard may having a chance to live seems foolish. I will respect the wishes of my allies. But if your civilization lets him go, I promise that I will hunt him down myself.
He looks at the bloodied sleeping orc. Anyone have rope or something to tie him up? I don't trust him.
Once the orc is tied up, We should spend the night here. I don't know about you, but I am warn out. I could use the rest and it would give us time to be through of our search. I would hate to see something valuable be missed by us and then used against other innocents later.
With the healing attended to, Hank turns to his foes. He approaches the wolf, eyeing it warily, but with admiration in his eyes. If it is still dying, Hank pats it on the head and whispers a prayer in druidic before finishing it off with a clean, merciful slice of his scimitar.
Hank furrows his brow, trying to understand how he feels. "Aw, shucks, Karthug, there ain't nothin' to the wand. Bet you could work it yerself. But about that orc. On the one hand, I get that we oughta try to bring 'im back an talk it out with the folks in town. On the other, it does seem a shame to take him back just to be hanged. I say we tie him up, wake him up, and talk to him a bit. At the end we can ask him how he'd rather go, rope or..." he looks at Karthurg's hammer.
"If we're stayin' here tonight, I'm roasting up some of that pig we killed. Gonna skin that wolf too, poor creature--pelt so pretty deserves better than to rot."
In searching the room, you find a small, unlocked wooden chest that contains 300 gold coins and a glass vial of a deep-red liquid. Beside it on the floor, you find a note.
Greetings, honoured leader of the Gurlak’s Cave tribe. In this chest you will find the agreed-upon reward for retrieving the statue for me. I trust you to complete your task, so I have sent this payment in advance. Once the raid is complete, take the statue to the designated spot and place it in a bag. Give the bag to my hawk.
I know that you are capable of this task, so may your treasure and the spoils of your raid serve you well if you succeed. However, know you this: should you fail me, or try to trick me, not even Nulgreth will be able to prevent my swift and terrible revenge.
- B
Hank tosses Karthurg his rope, and then heads down to the wild boar--he brings a thoroughly grouchy Cammy as his bodyguard. When they get there, Hank begins breaking down the boar, removing the best bits and lugging them over to the still-smouldering campfire. He gets the fire roaring, and soon the delicious smell of fatty wild boar filters through the cave.
Now this is what adventuring is all about!
Phedran is able to identify it as a potion of bulls strength.
I sure am glad were are resting for the night, slinging those spells sure did take the wind out of me. I am glad we all made it through okay, good fighting all around. Shame we are still on the hunt for that statue.
Belliken attends to the fire with Hank and sets his bag in a corner to make himself a comfy place to rest.
Say Hank, what brought you out to sandpoint anyhow? Seems like you would be happier attending to your camel somewhere far from all this here mess.
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Phedran, who is sitting cross-legged not too far from the fire, leans in and takes a long draw of smoke from some sour smelling root from a long, narrow pipe.
He sits upright, blowing the smoke out the side of his mouth into the air above him.
"Master Henry... stirred to action simply by the menace of Black Fang the Terrible? Or perhaps there was something... else, some sort of... longing for excitement that lied within all along, and the jet-hued beast was simply the catalyst to bring the... bravo and his... belligerent beast of... burden and battle to action?"
The city-elf giggles at his alluring acts of alliteration.
"You'll forgive me for wanting to... lighten the mind after a day of such bestial displays of violence." He looks into the fire, gaze affixed to the flickering flames.
Yep, Pheddie, you've got the gist of it. I reck I always loved a good tale of heroes and swords and such as ma would tell me when she got home from work. When that dragon Black Fang ate my sheep, I felt like it was time I stood up and did something instead of just gettin' punched and bit all the time. Then I met you folks, 'cept Karthurg who I met today.
Hank pulls some bread out of his rations in order to make pork sandwiches. "Folks, there's many a sauce ma taught me, but I think the best is bein' hungry. Plain bread and pig sandwich, anyone?"
He continues his tale, building sandwiches and staring into the fire wistfully. "I figured I'd 'venge my sheep and go home, but now I got the road on my brain. I love walkin' around with you folks and Cammy, helpin' people and winnin' fights. Cammy's never looked so good, neither. I figure I'll tag along a ways farther, till I have some cash to get to my ma. She works the tavern and I just want to set her up so she can stay at home instead of workin' late all the time. If I ever get killed, take my cash and things to the Red Pony Inn outside Sandpoint, ask for Hank's ma at the bar. And you folks can try to take care of Cammy for me, but I'll get it if you need to leave him with her, too. Hope she has enough money to get him a field, should such ever happen."
At this point, Hank presents each member of the party (except Cammy) with a gloriously huge sandwich. His and Belliken's are the exact same size as those he built for the tallfolk.
[b]"Can I have a drag off that pipe, Phed? And how'd y'all get into this? And Karthurg, we have hardly had time to get to know ya. What's your tale?"
Karthurg gladly accepts the sandwich. He listens to Hank's story about what drew him to adventuring. When the conversation turns to him, he has a surprised look upon his face. Well, I recently escaped captivity from a tribe of orcs. I have been living in the woods since. I saw you folks preparing to fight the orcs outside and you are the first intelligent people I have found in the wild. I figured I could make an important ally while fighting an enemy. So I helped you lot fight the orcs. The cave was far more challenging than I expected and that leader had a nasty swing to him. But I hope I proved myself as a possible ally. Can you explain the quest you are on?
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Phedran peruses the note, then reads aloud. "It is addressed to a... Gorocs. Perhaps that was the late loutish orc chieftain who is now darkening our doorway as a heap on the floor?"
Phedran clears his throat, then continues.
"Greetings, honoured leader of the Gurlak’s Cave tribe. In this chest you will find the agreed-upon reward for retrieving the statue for me. I trust you to complete your task, so I have sent this payment in advance. Once the raid is complete, take the statue to the designated spot and place it in a bag. Give the bag to my... hawk?."
Phedran re-reads that last part, but is certain that's what it says on the piece of animal skin the note is written upon.
"I know that you are capable of this task, so may your treasure and the spoils of your raid serve you well if you succeed. However, know you this: should you fail me, or try to trick me, not even Nulgreth will be able to prevent my swift and terrible revenge. Signed, simply 'B'."
The slender elf tosses the note over his shoulder, and it flutters on the air to the dusty cavern floor behind him. "It appears our "bounty is in another castle", so they say."
"Well dang. Here I was hopin' we'd be back in town and heroes with no more work. Well, the eatin's good at least. Sounds like someone dealin' with the orcs has a way with birds. Druid, I hope! Except I'd hate to fight one of my own. Maybe one of the kinds of folks who have creatures that aren't as nature... wizards and the like, with their talkin' rats and rabbits and goats and such. Always wanted to meet one of them. The creature, not the wizards."
Hank finishes his sandwich and burps. "So... about that orc chief guy hogtied up... want to wake him up?
A heros work is never done it seems. Shall we rest here for the night and put our heads to this problem in the morn? Belliken manages over mouthfuls of delicious sandwich.
And if we're staying the night here we should set up a watch shift. Don't know if any scouting parties might find their way back.
The night passes uneventfully. In the morning, it appears that Gorocs has stabilized, but is still far from conscious.
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Phedran, what brews and herbs can you create that might bring this foul beast to conciousness? Sofia says.
Whilst she waits for the others to rise, she puts on a pot of coffee, reusing the grounds from the night before It's not the reusing of the coffee I mind so much, but coffee without milk just feels so uncivilised she thinks.
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"Well..." the slim elf says in a ponderous tone; "... I mustn't brag, but my healing salves are second to... few, if I'm being humble, this side of the Inner Sea."
Phedran takes a vial that has a clear liquid, then opens a small powderhorn. He taps a couple fingertip's worth of a colourless powder, then caps both the powderhorn and the vial.
Shaking it, the colourless powder and the clear liquid swash and swirl to become crimson and cloudy in colour. He removes the cork once again, then looks at the rest of the party who have taken audience to his preparation of this infused curative.
"You'll have to excuse me... a master of his craft never reveals all of the tricks of his trade."
He then turns away from the group, then simply spits into the vial, capping and shaking it once more.
Phedran spins on his heeled boots, then delicately displays the thin vial between his thumb and finger. "I present to you, a most exquisite healing tonic!"
He saunters over to the orc, then tsks. "A shame to use it on such an undeserving patient."
Hank looks on, wide-eyed and impressed. "Doctor work must be so hard, eh? Lots of schoolin'."
Kathurg watches Phedran work. This an interesting art. I know some plants that help against burns and sap that closes wounds, but I have never seen a mixture that repair injuries.
Before the potion can be administered, Karthurg tests the ropes to make sure they are secure and draws his hammer in case he needs to crush this orcs skull, heck he may do it anyway.
Belliken lets out a sleepy yawn and rubs at his eyes. The sun has been up for while but that did not seem to disturb his sleep in the slightest. He stands up slowly and cracks a kink in his back.
'Morning fellows. Didn't miss much I hope!
He quickly attends to his bedroll and prepares himself for the day ahead.
Phedran administers the potion, and within a few minutes, the orc stirs to life, but he doesn't say anything.
How do you guys want to play this? I can be scary and that seems to get people to start talking. But if you would rather try the friendly route, I will hear you out.
"Go ahead then, Karthurg. Guy's been scary enough for so many folks, might do him good to be a little scared."
”Do your worst.” He seems indifferent towards his very possibly impending death.
If it seems like the orc can handle it, Karthurg swings his hammer to break the knee of the orc. He turns to the group and says Anyone weak of heart may want to leave the room.
He turns back to the handicapped orc Trust me,I am prepared to do far more than use words.
I am on no schedule, I can break you down, have my friend bring you back, and break you again over and over again. Or I can promise you a swift demise. Please make a wise choice and not waste my time.
Hank spits out the water he'd just taken a big swig of and says "Whoa!"
He runs out of the room and gives Cammy a big hug. When Cammy snaps at him, he dodges it, and goes in for another hug. He whispers,
"I'm so sorry for all the pain we cause. Mayhaps I shouldn't be a hero after all. I know Karthurg is doing what he thinks is right... but whoa, Cammy. What kind of world is this?"
Cammy says "SKROOONK"
But Hank can kind of get the gist of his meaning, which is something like,
"It's about time someone with some spine showed up in this party. This is a world where only the strong survive, Hank. And Karthurg, he's a survivor. His behavior is entirely appropriate in my book, and we need more of that, honestly."
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Phedran, aghast by the sudden turn of events, blurts out. "STOP! I cannot abide this. It goes against every manner, every code of ethics as a physiker I've bound myself to, and as a healer..."
He puffs up his chest, and does his best to stand tall as Karthurg. "Civilized beings do not treat a prisoner this way! We shall not stoop to this level of barbarism, and I demand this thuggery cease immediately, I implore you!"
Phedran's pulse races at the tension of the sudden conflict, and his mind races. Not to mention my curative infusions are a precious commodity, and I will not waste another on any cruel games you wish you play, half-orc...
Belliken is surprised by the sudden violence, but does not seem unduly disturbed by it. He cringes at the sickening crack as the orcs leg bone splinters beneath the hammer.
I've seen some nasty blows, and that is up among the best of them, but I don't think that was his worst neither. Looks like Mr. Orc is in for a beatin' Belliken managed under his breath.
Karthurg looks at Phedran as if he wishes he could communicate with him without speech. But never the less, he waits to hear a response from the orc before talking to his new ally.
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Phedran, unable to bear the tension in the room, and highly unlikely to win any sort of physical struggle with the ranger, leaves the room to find Hank and Cammy.
"I see that you too cannot bear witness to such a violation of prisoner's rights, gentle Keeper..."
Phedran lights his pipe and shortly creates a succession of short, anxious puffs of smoke from it, a sickly sweet-sour haze beginning to form around his head. "... the dutiful and right thing to do is escort the brute back to town, where he can be made to pay for his crimes. The townsfolk may see him off to the gallows or a gibbet, but that is their purview alone."
Sulking, Phedran mutters to the ground. "... at least we'll have done our part, then."
"You're a good person, Pheddie. I feel glad that you feel that way. I dunno though. I'm more sad that the guy's in such pain. We druids learn that you take what you need, but you try to ease pain when you can, and use what you kill when you can. Like the pig back there. I don't mind killin' the orc. It's the hurtin' him that feels wrong."
As Karthurg brings his weapon down, Gorocs clenches his teeth in pain, but doesn’t scream. After a few moments, he mutters, ”It doesn’t matter anyway, I guess. Even if I get out of this alive, none of it matters.” He looks up, a crazed look in his eyes. ”You, me, all of this. It’s all going to burn, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. So kill me. It’s not like it’ll change anything.” He begins chuckling, which ramps up into a mad laugh.