Flat on her back, Nuriah levered herself up onto her elbows,alarm showing on her face at Kostas' warning.
Tales from about the campfire sprung into her mind, Nuriah turned on her side in an attempt to rise onto the shaking ground...
But merely eats another mouthful of dusty earth...
Having heard rumors of these Earthen Gnomes Robbet only takes a second to grab his pack before fleeing, "Fly you fools!"
The name doesn't ring a bell as the ground shudders and quakes, but Hedir doesn't need to know what it means to know it's a danger. "Probably some human term for the creature," he decides as the ground cracks and the first sign of bloodshed comes out. "Keep moving!" he bellows as he frantically staggers to his feet. "Before it comes after us!"
:
:
Depsite the threat posed, Brunhard holds firm;
"This abomination is summoned... guided by a fell sorcerous hand!"
The knight sets shield and pike, as the morass of earth moves toward a downed brigand.
"Save what you can! I will give the creature pause..."
Kostas gives the massive knight a glance that suggests Brunhard is the greatest fool the Dwarf has ever seen. But panicked retreat is the ruler of the day; he dashes to the nearest wagon and begins hauling the necessaries over the side for others to grab. His efforts are met with little help from the common folk, most of whom are already fleeing. Without direction from a firm leader, the caravan folk will bring precious little cargo with them.
As the Dwarf unloads the wagons, the sole guard still standing--the staff-wielder--moves to free the oxen at its front, and Kostas barks when he sees. "Leave them! They know there's danger, they'll run if they're loosed. We need them here to keep that thing from chasing us!" The guard's shocked face moves from Kostas, to the oxen, to the heroes of the caravan.
Meanwhile, the monstrosity continues burrowing from one downed horse to the next, seemingly drawn to their frantic movements and the thrashing of the brigands pinned beneath them. Only one remains as Brunhard steps forward. The rider, one leg pinned beneath his mount's weight, looks up at the knight, piteous eyes pleading in his leathery, gaunt face. His voice is hoarse, pained, and filled with terror. "Please. Please, I'll do anything. Just don't let it..." Another hideous crunch from the latest victim cuts off his words, and he renews his own struggle to get free.
Brunhard eyes the man amid the mayhem;
"Truly the Port of Redemption welcomes passage from the strangest of currents..."
The knight sets his pike into the earth, then attempts to free the brigand;
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Nuriah spits dust out onto the ground, the looks up and sees Brunhard standing and actually advancing on the thrashing 'Gnome.
Shaking her head at the man's bravery or idiocy, she gets to her feet, and hustles to a nearby oxen and grabbing its nose ring, begins to haul it away from the monstrosity.
"Help me, grab the other wagons!! We'll need them..." she shouts at any passing wagonners
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Fool, Robbet thought as he watched the heroic knight try to free the trapped brigand. He hesitates for a while he watches the scene unfold before his eyes but is reminded of the pressing task at hand by Nuriah's call for help.
"To the Wagons,"Robbet shouts to the teamsters, following Nuriah's lead.
Although Robbet tries his best to rally the folk, his words make little difference following Nuriah's. The sight of the young woman, selflessly dragging at the ring of one ox, spurs at least some to action. That wagon's driver leaps aboard and snaps at the reins, spurring the oxen into motion. Kostas shouts, his voice filled with wild fear. "Leave it! Just take the goods!" But seeing the wagon already in motion, he curses and points to the other. "Just the food and water! Leave the cart, leave the beasts! We'll never make it with both!" Between his visceral cries and the words of our heroes, most of those capable begin hauling goods away, dragging and carrying all they can.
Brunhard, meanwhile, moves to the trapped bandit. Tear trails carve through the mixture of dirt, blood, and grime on the man's face, and he strains to aid the knight--but to no avail. Even for such a mountain of a man, it seems this feat may be too much atop the strain of the battle. And as Brunhard's grip fails him, the earth rumbles once more and the knight is knocked to his back in a shower of dirt, stone, and sudden blood and viscera, as the earthen gnome descends upon this next prey.
In a folk tale, the bandit might accept his death, and urge his would-be savior to safety, making peace with what has befallen him. But the brigand is no such man. He screams in desperate agony. "No! Please, Gods, no! Save me!" In theory, it might be done, but his chances of survival after that are slim, and remaining near this beast seems a fine way to meet the Hooded One, and swiftly.
Not a man of notable brawn, Hedir just grabs what's nearest to him as the other travelers manage to rally the caravan and does what he can to help them recover food and water. They can't afford to have absolutely no provisions on the road, especially with beasts lurking.
Brunhard once again shifts to his feet, clots of earth and dust coating the warrior's armour.
He glances through the maelstrom towards his companions in the distance, then returns his attention to the bulk of the horse;
"The Gods cannot hear you wretch... but I do! Know this... Your life and penance are mine if we survive!"
The knight grunts, attempting to shift the downed equine and offer a chance of freedom to the bandit...
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Through the din of raised voices, braying animals, and cries of pain one voice rings true in Robbet's ear; that of the dwarf Kostas. Heeding the dwarfs pleas he grabs what food he can from the laden wagon.
Glad she was able to get at least one of the wagons and animals moving away from the thrashing gnome, Nuriah grabs her pack from a nearby abandoned wagon and the fills her arms with whatever else she can carry, looking over her shoulder at the brave knight...
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As most of the folk grab what supplies they can and run, the knight-jetsam stands his ground, refusing to leave even this worm of a brigand to die. With a mighty strain that wracks his thews, Brunhard struggles against the fallen horse once more... And just as the gnome descends upon the pair, knight and bandit, the weight is shifted just enough for the brigand to scramble. But the spray of earth blinds them, the frenzy of the horse ringing in their ears. At this distance, Brunhard can smell the stench of rot and decay that clings to the spirit, and realizes that the creature itself, for all the chaos it wreaks, is unnaturally silent.
He sees the flash of hardened flesh, something like a beak ripping into the horse's flesh. He sees the beast drawn back into that ghastly maw, and then sees the formless masses of flesh lash out, as though to find more prey or beat back dangers as the creature feeds. The bandit screams as the beak descends, for it rips free one of his feet, and he backpedals into Brunhard's arms; thus occupied, both men are sure to be struck. One tentacle slams into the brigand's chest with a hideous crack, and the man falls limp atop his rescuer, his chest caved in beyond what a man can bear. Brunhard himself receives a ringing blow to the side of the head, one which surely would have killed him had it struck full. As it is, the side of his face quickly warms with blood... Unless he is swift enough to turn aside.
At the wagons, Kostas keeps shouting for everyone to move, and the wagoner driving his oxen snaps the reins with panicked fury. The beasts themselves seem aware of the danger, and pick up what speed they can as the others, lashed to the second wagon and still with leads spiked in the ground, low and strain to no avail.
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Head ringing and sticky with blood, Brunhard slowly rises to his feet...
He staggers to where his pike stands impaled upon the desert scrub, leaning heavily against it...
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Over her shoulder, Nuriah sees Brunhard manage to free the bandit and her heart soars at his bravery in the face of certain Death. But when both fall to the Gnome's savage attack, it takes all she can to not run back to their aid.
They were in the Hooded Man's care now, and she muttered a quiet prayer to guide their passage.
Then she called out to the others, exhorting them to re-double their efforts to escape the creature with as much supplies as they can...
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Standing, Brunhard can only watch with some horror as the writhing mass of the earthen gnome continues devouring the horse, its ill-fated rider collapsed not a yard away. With the beast so occupied, the knight is aware he can make for the caravan if he moves quickly; with the remaining wagon and its ox as a distraction, the spirit should hopefully leave be a lone man, even one as large as Brunhard.
Indeed, as the survivors flee, the wagoner shrieking and snapping his reins, those on foot stumbling and casting frantic looks behind, the rumbling mass of earth does not give chase beyond the other wagon. The bellows of the ox are a fearful thing to hear, and the snapping of wood and bone, the tearing of flesh and cloth, carry far longer on the still air of this land than any would like.
But after a time, the noises drift away, and after still longer, the group slows to a halt. Most are simply too fatigued to continue the pace, but Kostas also takes a lookout from atop the wagon, and declares the danger gone for now. The regular folk gasp or weep or simply fall to the ground to rest. As they do so, Kostas approaches our heroes, wiping sweat from his brow and leaving a streak of dirt in its place.
"That was fine work, and glad I am we made our escape. But there's little rest for us even now. We took what we could from the cart, but we've still lost supplies, and I don't know that we've enough to reach the city eating and drinking as we have. And we've lost our scout and wayguide; I don't suppose any of you are trained in that profession?" He sighs and spits on the ground. "We should do a head count to see what others we've lost. There was a prisoner in--"
The Dwarf's words are cut off by a shriek from the rear of the wagon, shortly followed by a sound like supplies being dropped to the ground. Already there are folk gathered around the commotion, and Kostas curses. "The wagon."
Nuriah drops the burlap bound package she'd been carrying to the ground, then let her own pack drop as well, gasping with the effort to out run the Gnome.
Looking back, she winces at the terrible lows of pain and panic from the ox, but smiles as Brunhard makes his way out of the cloud of dust.
She plucks her waterskin from her pack, takes a quick drink , then walks and meets the knight-errant half way, offering him the 'skin, "Not quite ready for My Lord's Embrace this day?" she asks , smiling.
As the caravan beats a desperate retreat, Hedir finds himself panting and sweat dripping from his face. He was never as fit as a trained warrior, but it seemed that he was a bit more lacking than usual. Perhaps he'd let himself get a little soft. Fortunately, it seems that his other skills are at least worth the effort. "I've been trained in pathfinding and navigation. I can get us where we need to go."
Brunhard nods a mirthless thanks at the Pilgrim and the offered water. He takes a deep draught, then sinks to one knee - weary from the battering and events.
"Not this day Lady Nuriah. Though the poor wagon driver took my place... I owe a debt to his soul for that."
At the commotion at the rear of the wagon, the knight-errant rises with a grimace and moves toward the sound and its source...
The glances around trying to take stock of the situation as he listens to the dwarf. His attention becomes focused on the commotion at the wagon, "Hey, now what is going on back there?"
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Our heroes have only a brief rest at the end of their flight, as the commotion from the wagon draws their attention. Brunhard and Robbet make their way to see what's amiss as Kostas nods to Hedir. "I'm glad to know it. If you can find our way, we might reach Xanaste yet."
At the back of the wagon, the knight and reeve push through the crowd to survey the grisly scene. The dwarf who'd been guarding the prisoner is seated much where that criminal had been. His eyes are wide, staring, and glossed with death; his face is bloody and purple, and the head lolls at an awkward angle atop a neck still bound tight with chain. A length of jagged metal extends from his breast, blood matted down the torso from the wound. His boots, hat, and belt have been taken, including the pouches, keys, and sword which hung from his waist.
The women and children of the caravan are huddling away from the corpse, while a few of the men look on in horror. One standing nearby is the guard with the iron-shorn staff, examining the scene with a grimace. "He's not still in there, is he? Or we would have heard him." The man turns to those who've approached, looking for their thoughts.
Hedir just nods. "We'll make it. That I can promise you." The elf glances up at the sky. "It will be easier for me to navigate after dark, I'm afraid. I can tell the direction we're traveling, but exact directions are easier when you have the stars."
Taking in the grim scene Brunhard leans heavily on his pike, then looks toward Robbet;
"Should we try and hunt him down Master Reeve? He's killed once... will likely do so again..."
Nuriah follows the brine-knight and Reeve over to the scene of murder, exhibiting none of the other wagoner's revulsion of Death.
She advances and crouches before the strangled dwarf, "In these lands, travelling alone is almost a Death sentence," she says over her shoulder to Brunhard and the Reeve .
Robbet stares off into the distance, slowly stroking his beard, as he considers the knights words. Finally he suggests, as he glances at Nuriah, "Life on the road to Xanaste is cheap. Might be best if we tend to the living."
"So we're just letting him go?" The guard looks between the three at the back of the wagon--not incredulous, just questioning for clarity, it seems. "I've little desire to hunt him down, myself, so you'll hear no argument from me. And you're right, I doubt he'll survive longer than a day out there without help. I'd have taken the chopping block or the hangman's rope, myself. It's faster than whatever fate he'll find there." He looks back the way you've come, and shakes his head. "We should tell the magistrates when we arrive, though. They'd be expecting him."
The other folk, still lingering near the scene, seem less enthusiastic about letting a prisoner go free--but then, none of them seem interested in tracking him down, either.
- - - - -
At the front of the wagon, Kostas nods at Hedir's words, and peers up at the sky, shielding his eyes with one hand. "Well, so long as we can stick to the Great Road and keep clear of trouble, we should be able to find our way well enough. But things can get... twisted about, in this region. Hopefully the stars will guide you steady. This mean you would travel at night, or just check after sundown to make sure we're still going the right way?"
"Unless the stars are truly warped in some way, I can gauge a direction as soon as they're visible. I learned to navigate at sea and you rely on the sky more than the land to tell where you're going then. I suggest we travel a bit later into the evening than usual to make sure we stay on track, but there's no need to travel all night."
Brunhard mulls the way ahead with a furrowed brow;
"Do not be so sure the wastelands will take him. In Cymopol there is a saying: Flotsam oft finds the shore. I think it has merit for our erstwhile murderer."
The knight winces as he moves;
"I fear my condition will also slow our journey..."