Big John is clutching two of the smaller victims as he moves towards the altar.
”We’ll burn it all down! It will be a fitting pyre and deny the enemy any further use of our holy place. Let our fallen martyrs ashes choke their throats.”
”Rhyna. Pick up the Sumbols of Faith. Don Father’s symbol, you must carry on his work now. Don’t leave the butterfly behind and say prayers to Desna, her followers are represented here as well.”
Setting his small burdens down, he wipes tears away from his face leaving the smeared blood of children in their place.
”You men, me move the bodies together, stack the pews around them, take anything of use from our fallen including usable clothes. It is not stealing, they gift it to us so that we may have life and live to avenge their wanton slaughter. Move!”
Big John throws himself into the work. Blood and tears mixed dripping from his face freely now. Past trauma is compounded and shows across his shoulders and in his eyes. When the task is done he is overcome with emotion.
”F$$$ing baby killers!” he sobs out loud before he can cap it off.
His hands clasp his face as if physically holding his head together. When he pulls them away drops his ham sized hands drop to his sides and ball into fists.
”Get these filthy vermin out of our house of worship! And crush their heads so that there demon worshipping shamans can’t get any information out of them!”
Big John crosses the room and picks up the crumpled body of the scout and hurls it in anger toward the nearest door. He runs over to it and throws it to the threshold where he whips out his flail and pulps it’s head with three brutal strikes grunting in anguished choking anger.
He lifts the headless dripping wreck of a body and throws it further into the darkness.
Big John faces himself away from the party.
”I am going out to check the shed.”
Yaron looks around, then asks, "I'm not a local here.. clearly these were all noncombatants, and trying to take sanctuary - but is the absence of able-bodied adults a sign that everyone went out to fight, or does it mean the hobbies are taking slaves as spoils of war?"
He nods at John's statement, and starts dragging the hobgoblin corpses out of the shrine, not wanting their foulness to mix with the others. That done, he follows the large man to the shded, an arrow in one hand and his bow in the other, "I'll watch your back while you search."
Durun assists in dragging the hobgoblin corpses to outside. "I will come with you. Perhaps the townsfolk would feel better with me not beside them." He mutters while rubbing the knot on his forehead. "I realize they were panicked, but by the gods they could have looked first..."
He melds into the shadows, taking watch with Yaron.
Big John looks at both men who follow him out. His eyes meet each of theirs, probing to see if he is being judged. Seeing no anterior motives or contempt he drops his eyes and says.
”Thanks for having my six.”
He chews the inside of his lip a bit.
”I guess I kinda lost my crap in there.”
He lifts his scabbarded sword and shrugs his black dark wood shield.
”Truth be told I didn’t really want to come to town tonight, but did it out of respect for Aubrin. I dragged these out of the rafters. I only keep them in the event the village, the little ones. . . . “
The big man struggles to keep from breaking again.
”<<<clears throat>>> In case we were threatened again.”
He takes in and let’s out a big breath.
”Gods, I don’t want-I can’t do this again.”
He looks to the men with sorrowful and pleading eyes.
”I don’t know what I did, but I am cursed. My family was taken from me by these — No matter what I do, the gods torture me and won’t let me die. I don’t get sick when I’m out in the rain for hours . . . I just started getting regular back in town. I was getting over the wanting to be alone . . . and I was just making friends again. . . I let myself start to feel. You know? Let myself get attached, I mean, little kids always get to me. They are so innocent and won’t turn their face or shun you. They can’t tell you are messed up inside. . . And now THIS HAPPENS!?!?”
His face twists and his fists frame his face as he struggles with unseen, but no less fierce demons.
”And now I am burying little kids again and I didn’t do s*~! to save them.”
He swallows.
”I charge in reckless and still none of the f#$$ing bastards cut me down.”
His breathing is labored.
”Here I am and the little ones, the kindly grocer and his wife, the elders, They are all in there dead. And my dumbass . . . At least the Father was given a good death, but where was I when these people needed me?”
”Looking for a drink. Finding a reason to avoid people. Reliving s#!# in my head.”
”What the f&!+!?”
Durun places his hand upon John's shoulder as he looks the larger man square in the eyes. "My wife and children were taken from me by bandits nigh 10 years ago." He points to his eyes and the slight scar around his neck. "I survived, but was left with all this. It took me many years before I could come to terms with it. I am not sure what horrors you have also survived, but this what not your doing. Do not allow yourself to take the blame for the choices made by those responsible for this slaughter. You can relive your horrors another time, because the children that are still alive are counting on us now; no one else. You must gather your wits and lock down whatever is loose inside your soul. Otherwise more will die. I do not want to see any more of these good folk perish tonight. Can they count on you?"
”The war ended, but it not for me. It’s still raging on in my head. The smells the screams. When little kids are playing on the playground sometimes I panic thinking it sounds like they are being hurt . “
"I understand your pain as I suffer from the same myself, especially the children." His jaw muscles stand out as he bites down hard. "But at this moment, right now, you must push those aside and focus, my big friend. Use it to fuel your anger and rage against those bastards seeking to hurt the innocents. Do not let it ruin your mind. If you need, we can speak more of your hurt once we have found some place safe."
Sor's eyes flutter open as the potion flows. "Thanks," he grunts at Elandra.
Inside the shrine the halfling cavalier helped gather everything they found and made a sort of make shift pallet to gather all the things they had gathered. he took some rope and did his best to secure it to his noble steed.
"Still no wagon or cart. That would help immensely Can anyone remember seeing one somewhere nearby?"
When you burst into the Caretakers shack, you see the interior of a humble wooden building with little beyond a bed, writing desk, and cooking pot.
A number of townsfolk who were hiding here screamed and cowered away from you.
RHYNA
"Sorry again! Father Noelan hid us in here while he... tried to rescue the Chapel." She said sadly.
"Sir, what are we going to do? Sooner or later they're going to come for us; a lot more! What do we do now?" She pleaded to Big John.
Doing a quick search, you find a total of 8 civilians (including Rhyna) and a large supply of church potluck food all crated and ready for the celebration that won't happen now. The packed food is worth 12 provision points.
”I think your name is Ghosteye, I’m John. I am so tired. . . “, he whispers.
Big john nods at Duran his eyes looking into Ghosteye’s as a 1000 yard stare and glaze returns to the big man’s own.
He quickly ties the Aegis of Recovery around his neck
”But . . . I can’t give up.”, he states resolutely.
”let us fight till the bitter end.”, he says begins picking up momentum.
”cause there ain’t no way.”, he grumbles a little louder.
”I will back down after what was done to my friends, my family, the ones I loved.”, he growls.
”They were what made me the person i am today, thats why i'll keep fighting...And I made a promise!”
He smiles at Duran with a uncomfortable glint in his eye. A massive mitt of a hand encircles the Kineticist‘s upper arm squeezing like a constrictor, but not painfully.
”Heh! Let them try to kill me twice. They have summoned the demon now let’s see if they can control it! Yeah!?”
He releases his arm and breathes in, drawing strength.
He draws himself up to his full height and turns about to address Rhyna.
”It’s simple, we live, we regroup, we fight and we take revenge. We will not sit here to be slaughtered, nor will be go quietly into the night.”
”We are going to old holdfasts and disappear into the forest. Aubrin is with us, but battered. For now take everything we can. We are heading across the bridge.”
”Do you know where the hunter is or where they took the other villagers?”
”Also, remind me if the Smith has been accounted for? Did she have any weapons of armor at her forge?”
”And oil, we need oil. I want to burn the temple to the ground, disable the forge and most importantly drop the bridge. We need time to escape.”
”Look, you know these people, use your influence and keep them moving.”
Big John puts his hand out to help the cowering people up.
”Get up, get on your feet! Arise townsfolk, come on now. It’s time to live. Others have bought us this time with their lives, let us not distain their memory. Up, grab what you can, Rhyna will lead you to the bridge. You are all warriors, survivors, or valuable support personnel now.”
Big john places his hands on his hips and chuckes.
”Welcome to the resistance!”
As big John confides in those outside, Arlen listens, evaluating. As the man continues to blame himself for the deaths of the townfolk, Arlen has enough. He interjects firmly, but with compassion "Master yourself, man. You have done everything you can for the townfolk and if you die soon you won't be able to do anything more for them, let alone avenge their deaths. Come, we have much to do and we need you to be focused on the moment at hand."
"That is more like it, John. My name is Arlen. We need to get out of here. I like your ideas to recover more supplies but I fear we already have used up too much time lingering here at this shrine. We need to rendezvous with the others from the inn."
”Do you know where the hunter is or where they took the other villagers?”
The civilians look at each other and shake their heads.
"...remind me if the Smith has been accounted for? Did she have any weapons of armor at her forge?”
"Oh, yes; of course!" Chirped Rhyna. "Miss Blondebeard has quite a selection at the store, and samples at her forge. And I can't imagine her abandoning her shop, no sir; not for a thousand hobgoblins!"
”And oil, we need oil."
"Yes sir, I'm sure there some at the shop." Rhyna nodded reassuringly.
"...I want to burn the temple to the ground,"
As the rest of the civilians edge away from Big John, Rhyna piped up.
"Ah, sir, won't that work against us sneaking away?""...and most importantly drop the bridge. We need time to escape."
"Oh. Well, sir, have you checked Oreld's Fine Shop? I heard he had some kind of 'Stump Remover' alchemical stuff. Maybe that could help?"
”Look, you know these people, use your influence and keep them moving.”
Sir! Yes sir!" Rhyna chirped, snapping something like a salute.
"Up, grab what you can, Rhyna will lead you to the bridge."
Rhyna starts getting the other civilians organized, getting packs and arranging the portage of the supplies.
"The shrine burning will act as a diversion--as long as we wait to light it until all of you are safely away. We light it, and we get away. It seems we first need to make our way to the smith for oil, though, and possibly the alchemist to take care of the bridge... You lot get on to the rendezvous." He speaks with calm authority.
" We have a long night ahead of us yet, John. I need you to keep your head. Can you do that?" He looks earnestly in the man's eyes. With compassion he adds "We'll have time to gather ourselves once we're safely away."
The adolescent elk breathes heavily through its injuries.
hp: 10/20
”Thanks for having my six....I guess I kinda lost my crap in there.”
Yaron shakes his head, "Not a problem... and I understand. Kind of feel like I'm hanging on by my fingernails myself, really. Think the only thing letting me move forward is that we're fighting back.. and that hopefully we can be the one who save folks, the way I was saved... Though, so far, we've had the guy outside that he was stupid enough to run off screaming, and all the dead..." He trails off, ...and so far, I haven't seen any sign of my father, or his 'clan'..
”I don’t know what I did, but I am cursed. My family was taken from me by these — No matter what I do, the gods torture me and won’t let me die. I don’t get sick when I’m out in the rain for hours . . . I just started getting regular back in town. I was getting over the wanting to be alone . . . and I was just making friends again. . . I let myself start to feel. You know? Let myself get attached, I mean, little kids always get to me. They are so innocent and won’t turn their face or shun you. They can’t tell you are messed up inside. . . And now THIS HAPPENS!?!?”
Yaron shakes his head, "You're not cursed. No more than the whole of this gods-forsaken place, anyway. I had nightmares for years - heck, still do sometimes, though way less often... though, being honest, I probably will again after this. I can still see their faces as they toyed with me - shallow cuts here and there, taking amusement before they killed me.. but in the nightmares, no arrows come. The pain continues, gets even worse, before suddenly, and finally ending."
He shakes his head, realizing he's gone far afield from what he was saying, then says, "Maybe the reason the gods aren't letting you die is that you're to be the weapon that strikes back. I know, for me, learning the bow and realizing that I could send my fletching down their throats was let me start - only start - sleeping through the night. "
The bard's tone become soft, adding, "There's a reason I go around telling silly stories and dancing like a fool, rather than reciting the epic, inspiring warchants my father loves... and it's that I realized, that hatred, the burn for revenge, they were twisting me inside... Instead, then, I chose hope. I chose to find the tiny embers of light, even in the nightmares, and focus on those. And, really, if learning to fight and defend myself was what started me sleeping through the night, embracing the fact that I might help someone, the way that I, and my father, were saved... that's what got me to where I am."
His tone strengthens again, and he speaks with a bit of resolve, "So, here we are. Fighting back and buying townsfolk the time to get out, hopefully to safety. We will keep moving and doing everything we can to be the reason that these people survived..
His voice takes on an edge as he adds, "...and since we're not demigods and can't save everyone, we'll carry the burden of remembering... and avenging... the dead."
As the door opens and the survivors are found in the shed, Yaron gently slaps John on the shoulder, "...like I said, tiny embers of light...," before turning to the 'rescued', "I'm Yaron, this is John, Arlen, and 'Ghosteye'. We're here to get you out and to safety."
As the civilians gather, Yaron offers, "Stick to the shadows as best you can. Remember, you know the town, the alleyways, the places you can hide... Move quickly and quietly -- we'll be making a big show and a lot of noise over this way which should keep them all interested. Still, we have a few spare weapons if any of you know how to use them -- and you promise that you do it only as a last resort. Sniping at Hobgoblins and bringing them down on you would be the opposite of a good idea."
He turns to the others, "The stump remover does sound promising... and would probably mean we don't need a hay wagon anymore. Argh, I wish I knew this town - can anyone figure out a route that makes sense and doesn't have us needlessly backtracking?"
Outside before going into the shed Big John takes it all in.
”Master yourself, man. You have done everything you can for the townfolk and if you die soon you won't be able to do anything more for them, let alone avenge their deaths. Come, we have much to do and we need you to be focused on the moment at hand."
Big John visibly forces his emotions aside and started wiping his face off.
”Yeah, yeah. I’ve gotta lock it up.”
Yaron shakes his head, "Not a problem... and I understand. Kind of feel like I'm hanging on by my fingernails myself, really. Think the only thing letting me move forward is that we're fighting back.. and that hopefully we can be the one who save folks, the way I was saved... Though, so far, we've had the guy outside that he was stupid enough to run off screaming, and all the dead. . . You're not cursed. No more than the whole of this gods-forsaken place, anyway. I had nightmares for years - heck, still do sometimes, though way less often... though, being honest, I probably will again after this. I can still see their faces as they toyed with me - shallow cuts here and there, taking amusement before they killed me.. but in the nightmares, no arrows come. The pain continues, gets even worse, before suddenly, and finally ending.".."
”Heh, you guys have been through it too, huh? I spent years in the vanguard. S*~* got to me, lost a lot of folks, then lost everything . . . but I’m not going to go running off into the night like that b%!@$! Heh, you’re right.”
Maybe the reason the gods aren't letting you die is that you're to be the weapon that strikes back. I know, for me, learning the bow and realizing that I could send my fletching down their throats was let me start - only start - sleeping through the night. "
The bard's tone become soft, adding, "There's a reason I go around telling silly stories and dancing like a fool, rather than reciting the epic, inspiring warchants my father loves... and it's that I realized, that hatred, the burn for revenge, they were twisting me inside... Instead, then, I chose hope. I chose to find the tiny embers of light, even in the nightmares, and focus on those. And, really, if learning to fight and defend myself was what started me sleeping through the night, embracing the fact that I might help someone, the way that I, and my father, were saved... that's what got me to where I am."
”Find the tiny embers of light? I like that, it’s like? Like, baby steps right? Like, the village kids have been my embers of light, waking me up from the numbness.”
”That is more like it, John. My name is Arlen. We need to get out of here. I like your ideas to recover more supplies but I fear we already have used up too much time lingering here at this shrine. We need to rendezvous with the others from the inn.”
”Someone’s gotta get the wand on Aubrin. We don’t seem to have a real Cleric out here with us. She’s it.”. He nods.
His tone strengthens again, and he speaks with a bit of resolve, "So, here we are. Fighting back and buying townsfolk the time to get out, hopefully to safety. We will keep moving and doing everything we can to be the reason that these people survived.”
”Yeah, keep moving and survive. That’s a good starting point.”
”I think I need to get to Blonde Beard’s. We need her with us and I want something better than this hide shirt.”
”Also, I think both Arlen and Rhyna are right. I would like to fire the temple, but we can’t waste time or worry about gestures for the dead. If we have time we can do it, or even use it for a diversion if needed or wanted.”
”We need the carts, wagons and canvas, and we already have the horses.”
”We must drop the bridge.”
"Agreed. Let's move, folks!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Do all humans prattle on this endlessly?
Faerith takes a moment to heal Arlen's brave elk before looking around to see if anyone else was in need of the wand's magic. As the temple falls gravely quiet aside from the distant sounds of weapons, cries of agony....of the dying, the roar of fire.
Her eyes move from one little body to another, her hands beginning to shake as she closes her eyes taking a deep breath and almost choking on the scent of so much blood.
Keep it together....they need you...they all need you. Heal the injured....help the ones frozen in fear...mourn the dead when the living are safe.
She repeats it to herself, a litany that keeps the sight of small bodies from overwhelming her. Steeling herself, she joins the task of moving the victims to the center of the room that would become their funeral pyre.
She could see some of the others who were working to fight back fraying heavily at the edges, old traumas re-ignited in the worst way. They would all need to heal from this, but first they needed to survive.
Turning to Darry she nods. "A cart would be a big help, moving the wounded at a quicker pace than making them walk. There might be one or two out back at the Phaendar Trading post."
Big John’s eyes go wide!
”Son of ah . . . Hey listen! These darn hobgoblins didn’t arrive in force just to loot a few turnip stands at a country festival. Aubrin, wants us to drop the bridge. It’s the only thing in town of any strategic value. These aren’t simple bandits we are dealing with here, these guys are an organized force.”
”We aren’t going to burn down a stone bridge with a couple of hay carts.”
”If we don’t have the stump remover we aren’t going to be able to blow up the bridge, that is our only means of securing our objective, and giving the survivors a chance to escape.”
”Someone check my tactics here, but I think we need to secure the means to destroy the bridge, secure the bridge, hold it as long as we can and rig it. Then we get who and what we can out of the town before we blow it. Then escape and evade the enemy.”
”We’ve been sending people that way, but if you were the opposing commander, what would one of your secondary objectives be?”
Big John drops down and begins drawing in the dirt with the tip of a captured dagger.
”Secure the bridge, to choke off escape, control that entire approach this securing a flank and having a tactical retreat option. Tactically, the bridge is key right?”
”Get the means to achieve objective, then achieve objective! Heh! Or, die trying.”
”Now, I’m not Aubrin and I’m not the only military mind here, so check me if I’m wrong. It will be easier to defend the bridge than it would be to capture it.”
”So, I’m suggesting the following Op Plan.”
”First, obtain stump remover.”
”Second, secure and start rigging the bridge.”
”If we can, get more people and supplies from the trading place. Keep rescuing, maybe firebombing the temple for a diversion if it buys us time, but if not it’s a low priority.”
”Blow the bridge, and head into the woods.”
A change has appeared to come over the big man. He stows his flail in favor of his sword and midnight black matte painted shield.
”Each and everyone of us here is mission critical, but more so the healers and those who can sneak or guide in the woods. I don’t want to needlessly risk you.”
”I am a survivor, but I’m not stealthy. Time is of the essence. I suggest a direct approach to get what we need, but I am all ears.”
"We should wait to draw attention to the bridge until the last moment. Let's raid the Smith, the Trading Company, and the alchemist's shop. Then we make our way to the bridge, destroy it, and retreat to the woods at once. A contingent of us could sneak over and start the shrine on fire below we do anything to the bridge. But until then we should all stay together." Arlen speaks with confidence and some natural authority.
"I agree with Arlen. Gather as many supplies as we can and keep moving people out. Burn the temple to draw their attention as we get people across the bridge. Destroy the bridge and head for the forest." Faerith says after a moment of consideration.
"The carts are to help with moving the injured, not taking down the bridge. There are elderly and children among the survivors, after a few hours walking will be hard on them, and we don't have enough horses for everyone."
Elandra nods silently.
Yaron nods at Arlen's statement, "I think he's right, John. If only because I'm assuming the hobbies already good the bridge, and it'll be way easier if we can punch through that just once and have our full strength to hold it."
He adds, "In terms of the pyre, if we set it up properly, we could give it a slow burn -- basically, choke it so the flames don't really flare up and burn bright for several minutes. If we had oil, we could soak it and light it with arrows from a distance."
"If need by I can wait until a signal is given or a alloted period of time and light it, then come hustling by on the back of Sebastion here. We are pretty small and might be overlooked running to you all on the bridge."
"Can sneak."
”I hope you are right. We are assuming the bridge is free and clear. If that is wrong, we are channeling our command, horse, wounded, and supply chain to a potential ambush.”
He prepares to move out.
”Very well, I’m heading for the stump remover, are any of you trained in alchemy? I am not sure if I would know it when I see it.”
Faerith sighs to herself. It was good to see that John had managed to pull himself together enough to function, they definitely needed him, but he seemed to expect everyone to fall in line as if he were some kind of ranking officer.
All that mattered was getting the people of her community to safety, any way possible.
So it seems they are kind of hiding in the shadows until we are all ready to go across?
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Yaron shakes his head, "Like I said, I'm actually assuming the bridge is covered in hobgoblins... It's just that I'd rather only need to clear the bridge once, using our full strength.. and then only have to hold it long enough to destroy it... and hopefully violently so it takes a few dozen of the monsters with it."
"Then we should stick to the shadows, head south and east to the Company Store and Forge." Faerith says, looking at each of the others.
”What if Sor, Darry and I went for the Stump Remover and then either met up with you at the store to help finish up or at the Inn to load and head for the bridge?”
”It’s going to take you a while to wrangle horses, attach them to carts and load the wagons. Without the Stump Remover, everything else will be a wash.”
”I think the three of us going over there will be more stealthy than moving the whole caravan to the alchemy shop after the Inn.”
”There is comfort remaining together, but not mission efficiency.”
”Plus, If the alchemist is still alive won’t the enemy capture him and use the stump remover against us? I want that guy on our team if he still lives.”
"That would be a fast and small enough force to get there quickly and gather things, We could probably handle a small amount of trouble as well with John's blade."
If he doesn't talk them to death first.
Yaron says, "I'm not sure trouble comes in small amounts tonight. I'm thinking maximizing our chance of success is best, even if it means we're a few minutes slower. It's not like the goblins haven't already overrun everything."
”Then secure the means to drop the bridge first. No other plan works without it. Also, they have not overrun everything yet, but soon they will. I want to get the stump remover and the means to produce it before they do. Having that kind of weapon gives us options to bring the fight back to them. Extra blankets and dried fruit won’t do that, but they are nice to have.”
”Grabbing a sack or jar of this stuff and hopefully the man who makes it has to be quicker than looting the emporium.”
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Whelp here is the thing big folk. The trading company is on the way to the Alchemist's place if my head is screwed on straight, and honestly if we can find a good cart or two your size would make loading things up go much faster friend John. I'll scout forward and if there is a chance to get the shop I'll take it, if not I'll hold up and wait for you. This whole towns like a big ol circle. Might as well follow along it that way."
He paused and patted Sebastions head, the great furred dog was pratically bristling beneath him with all the stress and excitement.
"Everyone's idea has merit, but we are wasting a lot of time trying to figure out what to do next. Don't worry John, we will get that bridge down by hook or crook. "
He offered patting the big guy's elbow from atop his mount.... By the gods he was a big one. The halfling thought to himself shaking his head slightly.
"I'll be a bit distracted, you folk think you can keep an eye out for a trio of halfling ladies... triplets sandy brown hair little shorter than me. They usually come with their father on his trading wagon this time of year. Im hoping something came up and they skipped this year but i just....."
He shook his head and gave himself a wry grimmace.
"Here I am ignoring what i just said, lets get moving to the trading company at least, we can continue this once we get there."
He said and with that he nudged his furry mount forward.
"Agreed," Faerith says nodding at the wisdom of Darry's words. "The sooner we get moving, the sooner we can get as many people as possible to safety. Sor try to keep an eye on Darry as he scouts ahead of us please."
Tightening her grip on her staff, and taking a steadying breath, she begins to follow the stalwart halfling's path, trying to ignore the sight of her hometown burning.
Big John sighs.
”Great. Let’s go load carts without any horses attached to them, then have to cross the green a couple of times to shuttle what we need where and hope that the stump remover and the man who knows how to make it and use it are still there.”
He begins walking after the dog.
”I’m sure the well organized hobgoblin invasion didn’t have any spies or intelligence about the area to know who’s who in town.”
He points in the direction of the invaders tower.
”Good news is, they probably won’t be wasting much time at the Trading Company, they have their own magically appearing tower to spill forth from I am sure they brought their own supplies.”
He shakes his head.
”I wish Aubrin was here . . . “
He lifts his dark grey hood to cover his face.
”This is a tactical error, but you’ll are hell bent on making it, so sure we can go look at the emporium and I can go to the alchemists store from there. It’s on the way at least.”
He whirls his cloak around him and attempts to blend with the shadows.
Yaron shakes his head at the wry tone, and mutters under his breath, "Or, you could imagine, for a moment, John, that we had a giant reindeer and strong folk with us who could be loaded with gear or move handcarts... and, for that matter, that weren't so stupid as to run back and forth across the green, but would instead, handle all of this in a single giant loop.... and, while we're at it, that hobgoblins don't like arcane magic, including alchemy."
Sneaking forward as before, using concealment of darkness, bushes and buildings surrounding the green, you work your way around until you reach the building right next to the Phaendar Trading Company.
Right next to you, on the roadside you see the signpost announcing the clapboard wooden shop and barnlike smithy sharing a single large, stone wall to be the Phaendar Trading Company.
Peering around the corner you see that the smithy’s double doors stand open, revealing a large, still-glowing forge within.
Two slaughtered goats and a dead horse fill an adjacent animal pen.
Many fresh scratches and dents mar the trading post’s heavy wooden door, and a chair leg juts through one broken window.
Small flames lick at the thatch rooftop where a red-hot iron has been tossed.
A squad of Ironfang soldiers prowl the lot, looking like they've been through a fight.
Arlen adjusts his stride to match Big John's. "Goodness, man. I said 'get a handle on yourself' not 'sulk like a child when you don't get your way.' You've traded one kind of subjugation to your emotions for another. Master your feelings!" He says it all in a hoarse whisper, trying to keep from embarrassing the man by letting others overhear his criticism, but he is fierce and those standing nearby most likely catch every word. After a moment he slows his stride to fall back into position