Soon the sleeping dogs awake. They immediately bolt off.
The two men stir and cowers at the sight of the guardsmen surrounding them. Dirty and in their young adulthood, they look at each other sullenly while keeping mum.
Skane slides the bolt lodged in his side with a grimace and walks towards the men and his fellow guards, muttering in Skald as he does:
Fjandinn heppinn skot stór piltur. ekki svo heppinn þessi þeir vinstri okkur lifandi þó. Láta mig tala til þá fyrstur áður við gera þá a hásæti af elding ha?
He leans in, his face and beard streaked with the blood of dog and man and with a wolfish smile presses the bolt tip under the chin of the nearest prisoner:
Well said fortune teller... we only need ONE alive... so lads who fancies bedding in the earth tonight? Speak up bölva!
Intimidate:
Fjandinn heppinn skot stór piltur. ekki svo heppinn þessi þeir vinstri okkur lifandi þó. Láta mig tala til þá fyrstur áður við gera þá a hásæti af elding ha? = Damn lucky shot big lad... not so lucky that they left us alive though... Let me speak to them first before we make them a throne of bolts eh?
bölva=curs
Dieredon dislodges the crossbow bolt from his shoulder, and he tosses it aside while walking by the others gathered around the two captives.
While you all decide what to do with our two new friends, I am going to see if I can pick up their tracks. Morthos or Solomon should detect magic on this stuff, especially the green fluid. Wesh, thanks for the blessing back there. I was really hurting for a moment.
Dieredon moves to where the crossbowmen stood and begins to try and pick up the tracks to discern their direction of origin.
Perception:
Survival:
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Rianna gathers her things around the camp that she dropped and threw. She saunters her way to the two crossbowman and leans closer to them. Where her hands were empty a moment before, they now hold a deck of cards. "Perhaps we should let fate decide who lives or dies? Speak up or the Lady of Graves will choose for you."
The men's faces blanch a little on hearing the North-man speak. One of them keeps glancing on the bolt Bjorn fiddles in an upward thrusting motion. While another looks at Ash as if pleading mercy.
Finally one of them speaks, "It is but a simple thing we do. We take what we can by the force of arms, for the loot and plunder. It is such that our luck we meet with a formidable group of guards tonight,"
After being gone for a short period, Dieredon returns to the camp and the gathering around the captives.
From the tracks it appears as if they have been shadowing the caravan for quite some time. Who leads you, scum?
Upon hearing Dieredon's findings Skane turns his head towards his fellow Northman;
Eins og the hvítmávur troll eftir á the langskip fyrir fiskur. að frátöldum þessir lítill vatnakarfi ert vernda við hákarlsskrápur! his comment punctuated by a hollow laugh...
Then just as quickly he turns his attention back to the captives; a hard look in his eyes and a cold tone to his voice;
Picked the wrong crew right enough lads... The more you can tell us now, the easier it'll be on you longwise... So spill em before we spill you...
Eins og the hvítmávur troll eftir á the langskip fyrir fiskur. að frátöldum þessir lítill vatnakarfi ert vernda við hákarlsskrápur! = Like the seagull trawling after the longship for fish... except these little minnows are protected by sharks!
"Call us scum do you? That may be, but Lucien and his men prowl these areas. We pick on what he misses or chooses not to." The man answers with a hint of regret in his voice.
Ghafar steps out from the caravan, interrupting the interrogation and carrying a coil of rope across his shoulders. He looks positively brimming.
Master says clean up now. Get rest. Tomorrow long day. I tie bandit. We bring Deeptown. Get money. No killing. Ghafar says with a glance at the Northmen. He adds after surveying the carnage.
Bury them bodies and dogs. Get bandits live next time. More money.
Betony and Thistledown trot up from chasing the dogs. "Those dogs likely will not stop running for quite some time."
Looking at those bloodied around her. "We hardly got our ruff up. Give me some time to get my armor on and saddle up Thistdown and we can go on watch."
I want to know who Lucien is? And yes, Rianna, I could certainly use some healing if Wesh is up to it. I am sure that Bjorn will need some as well, regardless of his boasts, Dierdon says with a smile.
Skane scowls at his employer's manservant;
Kokkur Ghafar bind them tight, don't want them getting free and wandering onto my axe do we..? Not when they're worth good coin...
He walks wearily back towards his sleeping spot, pausing to address Betony:
Much obliged Brambleknight, I for one will gratefully grab some more kip...
Placing a brawny arm on his fellow Northman's shoulder Skane smiles;
I reckon Bjorn here is in more need of clothes than healing! Eh big lad?
Helvíti taka tennur! Did þú kylfa þinn fjandmaður til dauði með þessi Bjorn! Setja það burt! Har-har-har!
Still chuckling harshly and shaking his head Skane wanders back to his gear...
Wesh looks at the sky for a little bit and then says "Who is hurt?"Wesh walks over to all of the injured adventurers.
I could use some additional healing. Also, I think that the second watch is up, that would be the northmrn. We were just rousing them when we were attacked.
With the watches reorganized, the camp settles in a lull as the sentries make their patrols.
Ghafar spends the rest of the night sitting in front of the campfire, adding spare bits of wood and watching over the prisoners, which have been conveniently gagged of the night.
The night is uneventful, dawn breaks evaporating the night's dew.
Dieredon smells and dips his finger into the green fluid to take a careful taste to determine its content.
Perception:
The green fluid appears to be 3 flasks of healing potion. I suggest that we divide these up now for immediate usage in the event we are attacked again so that Wesh's abilities are not tasked so greatly.
I agree Ash.
Dieredon pockets one of the flasks, and he hands one to Rianna and one to Bjorn.
Countless, please explain to your brother in arms that this is a potion of healing for his use.
Wesh moves closer to Ash and Dierdon and lets without their knowledge lets out a burst of positive energy that makes the stars shine brigther for a few seconds Near dierdron and ash. Wesh says "Here is some healing".
afterwords Wesh puts on his armor.
Listening to Dieredon Skane nods, then addresses his fellow Northman;
The er áhyggjufullur þú mega nota það eins og óákveðinn greinir í ensku smyrsl eða til olía þinn blað , fremur en drykkur það.
Grinning widely Skane adds: I told him it'll put hairs on his chest!
Continuing to chuckle quietly to himself as he is healed, Skane then slowly walks off towards where the bodies are to be buried...
The er áhyggjufullur þú mega nota það eins og óákveðinn greinir í ensku smyrsl eða til olía þinn blað , fremur en drykkur það. Hann hefur a benda har har har!
= The elf is worried you may use it like an ointment or to oil your blade, rather than drink it. He has a point har-har-har!
Thank you Wesh for the blessing of Desna, yet again!
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Rianna pulled up her sleeping gear close to the fire. Said a quick prayer to Pharasma and crawled under her blanket. Feeling a bit chilled from the bolt that struck her. It didn't take long and she was sleeping soundly, curled up in a blanket.
When morning came, Rianna was not ready to be awoken again. But duty calls. Rianna quickly gets dressed under her blanket. After stowing her gear, she seeks out Skane.
I have been listening to you and Bjorn talking, I would like to learn your language if you are willing to teach me. I think I can try a short sentence, but it's definitely going to take some time and practice before I get the hang of it. Here goes... Bjorn ekki hræddur af fólk , er hann?
Bjorn not scared of people thinking, is he?
She finds Skane at the conclusion of his watch stint. .
The Northman is covered in a sheen of sweat having just finished burying the corpses of the dogs and men that fell in the previous nights combat.
Leaning on a shovel he nods a weary greeting at Rianna, nonchalantly listening to her chat, until she addresses him unexpectedly in Skald;
Smiling he replies: You catch on quickly... You accent is off so perhaps you mean "Bjorn er ekki hræddur af hvaða fólk hugsa" - in that he is not afraid of what folk think... but a good attempt for someone not of the North.
Clearly impressed at Rianna's novice grasp of their harsh tongue, Skane nods again.
Aye lass, I see no reason why we can't teach you here and there on the road when we get the chance...
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Rianna blushes slightly, Thank you, you are very kind good sir. I look forward to hearing more of your conversation with Bjorn.
Rianna smiles at the northman slightly bowing her head in thanks, and then turns and heads back to help with prepping the wagons and clearing the camp, skipping, dancing and singing as she goes. She starts out trying to repeat one of the songs Bjorn had sung earlier, but stops after only a couple of words realizing she will need to hear it a few more times before she will be able to sing it. Instead she begins a lofty shoanti tune of new life in the harsh wilderness.
Dieredon wakes and checks all of his equipment, and upon hearing Rianna speak the words of the northmen shakes his head.
At this rate it will not be long until all of us have the learn that gutteral speech just to communicate.
He seeks out Rianna as she skips along singing.
Rianna, do you think that we have time for that reading while the caravan sets up for departure?
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I'll ask the Ghafar. If he says there is, I'll gladly give you a reading.
Not sure how you want to handle this. Thought if you wanted to, maybe you could use readings like this for a little foreshadowing. I have a harrow deck and would like to do it. Maybe I could draw the cards and then you could give an interpretation, or I could just do it and pass it in front of you first before posting officially so you could make some changes. Let me know how you want to handle this. I don't want to put more work on your lap, and I'm willing to do most of it, but I also don't know where you plan on going with this campaign. :)
Skane watches the young woman dance and skip away, with a bemused smile;
Been a long time since anyone called me "sir" or "kind" thinks Skane, Very long time.; his face quickly hardening at distant memories of the North as he turns his attention to the recently filled gravesite;
Minnstur af allur þú fátækur lausaleiksbarn. he mutters quietly in Skald.
Scowling he spits on the freshly turned earth...
For your thirst on the dead road...
Then turns and walks stoicly back to his gear and fellow guards...
Minnstur af allur þú fátækur lausaleiksbarn. = Least of all you poor bastards.
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Ash is still finishing her breakfast, though it's gone cold. Wonder if those northmen will teach me their language, when I'm not busy eating cold breakfast after everyone else has finished... She has already finished creating her extracts for the day. After breakfast, she loads her crossbow and loiters.
After a breakfast that is gobbled down, Betony and Thistledown tussle in the grass. Thistledown makes repeated passes at high speed while Betony tries to grab him till eventually they collapse in a pile.
Their play over, Betony will lead her friend over to their armor and saddle. In a voice with a slight hint of sadness, "Come on boy. Time to Bramble." She equips the pair of them, ready for the day's escort duty.
At Skane's motion to the captured bandits, Bjorn growls out, 'Gera eins og þú vilja. ÉG vildi eini taka ekki minna en þeirra eignir og láta þá reynsla náttúran eins og hún fyrirhugaður.'
Bjorn looks down at himself. By the tone of his response he seems genuinely concerned. 'Vera varkár hvernig þú segja! Allur kona vilja vera hræddur burt ef þeir hugsa minn snákur hefur a banvænn bit.'
As the elf hands Bjorn the vial of green fluid, telling Skane to relay that it is a healing draught, the northman gives a stupid grin and bobs his head while motioning at his dangly bits then shaking his rigid arm in front of himself.
'Ha, ha, ha, ha! Hvaða hjartarskinn hann hugsa ÉG komast af með það? Nota það eins og smurolía?'
After Wesh washes the party with Desna's healing touch, Bjorn gives him a hearty slap on the back. 'Thank you, bro...' The viking covers his mouth with his hand, a look of shock on his face. Slowly he lowers his hand and opens his mouth to speak. '...brother.' A smile of pure delight spreads across his features. 'Desna healer me thus well I be able today spake united tongue you.'
Bjorn looks around wide eyed at the others for several seconds before bursting out in booming laughter. Hollering at the retreating form of his fellow northman, he yells, 'Sjá the útlit á þeirra andlit! Þeir hugsun Desna lay hana fiðrildi vænghaf á minn háls og fundarhamar mig the sameiginlegur tunga! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!'
Sauntering in all his glory back to his furs, the giant's body continues to shake at his laughter.
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Come the morning, Bjorn bemusedly watches Skane burying the dead. 'Þú vita , enginn greftrun the annar dýr hvenær þeir deyja. Það réttlátur bráðabirgða- það herða fyrir líf til borða þá.'
After his friend has finished and given his blessing to the departed, Bjorn lifts his furs and relieves himself. 'ÉG gefa þú a á svo þú mega sigla þinn langskip til Hel's kuldi faðma. Auðvitað , þú gera ekki slá mig eins og sjómaður svo þú mega eini drekkja í minn hland. Hver er óður í hvaða þú verðskulda.'
Finishing his send off as the gypsy approaches Skane, Bjorn nods to her. 'Hefð ert mjög mikilvægur.' He solemnly says in his most sagacious tone.
At her words in Skald, he stares mouth agape. Recovering, he says, 'Þessi er ekki sannur! ÉG aðgát mjög innilega hvaða þú hugsa. Koma til minn pels í kvöld og eftir á ÉG vilja til heyra hvernig ÉG hafa eyðileggja þú fyrir allur annar mannskapur.'
'ÉG hafa margir orð til kenna hana. af þá ert hvernig til öskur Bjorn.'
Still smiling, he follows Skane, looking back once or twice at the pretty gypsy. 'ÉG eins og hana. ÉG vilja rúm hana hvenær hún vita það er mig hún hungur eftir á.'
Gera eins og þú vilja. ÉG vildi eini taka ekki minna en þeirra eignir og láta þá reynsla náttúran eins og hún fyrirhugaður. = Do as you will. I would only take all of their possessions and let them experience nature as she intended.
Vera varkár hvernig þú segja! Allur kona vilja vera hræddur burt ef þeir hugsa minn snákur hefur a banvænn bit. = Be careful how you say! All woman will be frightened off if they think my snake has a deadly bite.
Hvaða hjartarskinn hann hugsa ÉG komast af með það? Nota það eins og smurolía? = What does he think I do with it? Use it as lubricant?
Sjá the útlit á þeirra andlit! Þeir hugsun Desna lay hana fiðrildi vænghaf á minn háls og fundarhamar mig the sameiginlegur tunga = See the looks on their faces! They thought Desna laid her butterfly wings on my throat and gave me the common tongue!
Þú vita , enginn greftrun the annar dýr hvenær þeir deyja. Það réttlátur bráðabirgða- það herða fyrir líf til borða þá. = You know, no one buries the other animals when they die. It just makes it harder for the living to eat them.
ÉG gefa þú a á svo þú mega sigla þinn langskip til Hel kuldi faðma. Auðvitað , þú gera ekki slá mig eins og sjómaður svo þú mega eini drekkja í minn hland. Hver er óður í hvaða þú verðskulda. = I give you a river so you may sail your longship to Hel's cold embrace. Of course, you do not strike me as sailors so you may only drown in my piss. Which is about what you deserve.
Hefð ert mjög mikilvægur = Traditions are very important.
Þessi er ekki sannur! ÉG aðgát mjög innilega hvaða þú hugsa. Koma til minn pels í kvöld og eftir á ÉG vilja til heyra hvernig ÉG hafa eyðileggja þú fyrir allur annar mannskapur. = That is not true! I care very deeply what you think. Come to my furs tonight and afterward I want to hear how I have ruined you for all other men.
ÉG hafa margir orð til kenna hana. af þá ert hvernig til öskur út fyrir Bjorn. = I have many words to teach her. Most of them are how to scream out for Bjorn.
ÉG eins og hana. ÉG vilja rúm hana hvenær hún vita það er mig hún hungur eftir á. = I like her. I will bed her when she knows it is me she hungers after.
At his fellow Northman’s comments Skane smiles and casts his eyes skyward;
Raunverulega bróðir? Hún er en a miði af a stúlka , en ÉG reikna hún vildi gera a norður- björn dans til hana glaður lag!
Still shaking his head Skane trudges over to his gear, plants himself down, packs and lights a pipe, before running his finger down the notched blade of his axe.
Scowling at a blunted part of the weapons edge he fetches his whet stone and begins sharpening in a methodical fashion, pausing only for the occasional draught of his pipe.
Raunverulega bróðir? Hún er en a miði af a stúlka , en ÉG reikna hún vildi gera a norður- björn dans til hana glaður lag! = Really brother? She is but a slip of a girl, but I reckon she would make a northern bear dance to her merry tune!
Dawnbreak...
Ghafar's up and about, preparing breakfast, cutting pieces of stale bread before spreading on some salted butter and toasting it over the glowing embers of the night's fire. There's some thinly sliced pieces of meat too, which he lightly roasts across the fire while catching the drippings in a saucepan.
He lays them out and nods to the early birds, bidding them 'morning and breakfast. He brings a serving for the master before preparing the caravans.
The master's caravan is also bobbing about, footsteps moving through and fro inside as Aleph prepares for the day.
Dieredon quietly eats his breakfast while watching the other members of the caravan guard closely. He is bemused by the bramble knight, and he looks forward to seeing her in battle. The last attack did not give him the opportunity.
After finishing his meal, he approaches Rianna again. Ready for that reading when you are, my lady.
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Rianna thanks Ghafar for the breakfast, heading to Dieredon, Rianna notices the northmen talking. She tries to listen, hoping to pick up some of the words, but they are too far away. She shrugs her shoulders and then moves over to Dieredon and grabs him by the hand, leading him to a quiet spot where she throws down her blankets and spreads them out. She motions for Dieredon to sit and follows, sitting opposite him so they are face-to-face. Rianna pulls out a deck and sorts through them. Looking up at Dieredon she asks a question, What is it that you seek?. What do you wish to learn?
I seek knowledge of our fate in Deeptown, what do the cards say about our success or failure in our endeavors to successfully reach the town and what lies beyond?
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Rianna shuffles the cards once and pulls nine out. She offers them to Dieredon and he pulls the eighth card. Rianna shuffles the other cards back in the deck. Please show me the card... It is The Fiend. Rianna emits a slight gasp, but quickly recovers hoping that Dieredon does not notice. and then place it back in the deck. She takes the card back, places it in the deck and begins to shuffle again. After a few shuffles of the deck, she cuts the deck one last time and begins to lay out the spread in front of her.
She begins laying the cards with the upper left card and works her way across the top, then the second row, then the third row. Quietly repeating the words, Past, Present, Future. Past, Present, Future. Past, Present, Future.
With an anxious look on her face, Rianna looks up to Dieredon, You ready?
Ghafar saunters over nearby Rianna, it seems that he is somewhat excited by the upcoming reading.
Dieredon smiles anxiously...Indeed, I am, my lady. I just hope that the first card I drew is not as bad as it seems - do tell, please.
As he watches the interplay between his fellow caravan guards, Skane’s thoughts again turn to Rhiana calling him “kind” and “sir”. Háðskur or how does the common tongue say it...ironic he mulls.
Bitterly he remembers how “kind” he’d been when butchering Ullr the Younger in an honour duel last spring... just a boy of 16 he who was all piss and thunder until Skane ended his life in the name of his father’s worthless one.
Wincing he recalled how honourable he and the crew of the Haar Witch had been when they took that Korvosian Cog out of Riddleport. Black deeds were done that red day...
Snapping back to reality Skane sourly looks across the campsite before settling upon the BrambleKnight as she gears up;
Ho Brambleknight! I have a "hverfisteinn"... a... whetstone, if you wish to sharpen that Razorleaf of yours?
Wesh lets out a small sigh and eats his breakfast. slowly mumbling himself a little after a long night.
Betony looks at Countless with a confused expression. "Why do I want to wet my axe, won't it rust?" As she holds her axe in front of her, Countless can see that the axe looks very old and has likely not been sharpened in some time.