Glimpsed
Knockdown
Nali weaponized her arms to send a pulse of negative energy across two of the wolves. Both yipped in pain and shook their heads. Rolo healed Ava, who healed Thellira, and then the champion cut into the nearest wolf. Thellira spewed acid all around her from special glands in her neck, coating the wolves, the warg, and Dahros with corrosion. Most everyone managed to avoid the bulk of the spray, but the wolf with red fur tufts did not.
The wolves attacked with a vengeance, trying to take their weakest-looking foes down first. Ava was attacked by both wolves, again, and again The first attack was thwarted by Rolo, though Ava still ended up on the ground in pain. Nali took a bite, as did Dahros. Both of the targets of Nali's spell continue to take damage from the writhing tentacles in their brains.
Knockdown
Knockdown
Rolo finished off one wolf, then moved to the aid of Nali, who was trying to fend off an attacker. Her spell managed to barely wound it, but Rolo came in and put a bit hit on it. Ava scurried away to relative safety, playing her kazoo for all she was worth. Dahros landed a heavy hit on the warg, while Thellira was still trying to sort out her chain.
The lone wolf charged after Ava, biting her leg and tripping her again. Nali was tripped and bitten by another. Dahros was about to be badly injured when Rolo's champion ability kicked in and stopped the warg's teeth mere inches from his throat.
Grab
The warg was left alone as the rest of his pack was killed around him. He fastened his teeth on Dahros' arm and started to savage it, but was unable to close down with the Champion of Iomedae looking at him like that. Still, he hung on tight to the fighter's weapon arm.
Pieces of warg fur , meat, and blood flew across the path and coated the trees as the entire party literally ripped the beast apart. With the snarls and yips finally quiet, you hear more barking approaching. A low growl made you turn, weapons raised, to see a large and extremely fluffy brown dog barking at you from the woods' edge. Suddenly, it seemed to have a shift in opinion of you as it looked around, and instead of growling, it shifted to a bit of a whine. The dog's mouth hung open in what looked like a doggy smile, and its tongue lolled a bit. Then, itsat and cocked its head to one side, just looking at you.
The dog wags its tail a little, and perks up at the sight of the meat headed its way. Whether it was the meat in Dahros' hand, or just Dahros himself, it was a little early to tell.
Eventually, Dahros approached close enough and the dog gingerly reached out and lipped up the meat, coating Dahros' fingers in more than a bit of slobber. Then, the dog headed back into the woods a little way before turning and giving a small chuff. It clearly wanted you to follow.
The dog leads you off into the woods, pausing to bark or chuff at you if you showed signs of slowing down or stopping. He clearly wanted you to follow him. Eventually, he led you to a cabin in the woods, surrounded by old pear trees. Sitting outside the door, the dog barked twice, then waited. After a few moments, the door opened and elderly half-orc peered out.
"What is it, Wilbert? That damn warg making trouble for you again?"
He squinted into the woods at you, then called out, "I don't want any trouble. Just came out here to live by myself. If you come in peace, then you're welcome to the fire and a sip of brandy. If not, then just be going on your way."
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"Peace, fire, and brandy. Sounds like heaven right now. On a related note, that warg won't be making any more trouble for you anymore. Or anyone else for that matter. I'm Rolo and this here is my merry band of warg slayers."
Rolo stops picking at the wolf fur and viscera all over him to remove his gauntlet and approach the man. Holding his gauntlet under one arm he extended the other for a handshake.
The half-orc looked at Rolo for a moment, then smiled. Several teeth were missing, and one of his tusks was broken, but the smile looked friendly enough. He shook the proffered hand. "About time somebody shoved Odvar's teeth in. So, Rolo and your merry band, what brings you to the Meandor Mountains?"
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"Cheliax is trying to establish a new trail through the Menador Mountains to Molthune. For pack animals, not just, uh, Rolo's warg slayers." She raises an eyebrow in the champion's direction. "Don't suppose you'd be able to help us out? Maybe point us in a direction that would least affect your quiet brandy sipping." She licks her lips, "I do say that sounds enticing. Far better than being a warg's chew toy."
"Come inside, then, and let's talk. I got a mind to help you out, but there's some problems with your plan. Name's Bark, by the way, and this here's Wilbert."
Bark led you inside hos small cabin, where there was barely enough room for the five of you, plus him and the dog, Wilbert. He grabbed a bottle and splashed some light amber liquid into a cup for each of you and himself. Taking a drink, you find it is a surprisingly smooth and sweet pear brandy. The alcohol leaves a warm burn in your throat and stomach as you listen to Bark's words.
"I'd like to see a merchant caravan trail come through these parts, even if I don't want it to stop by my place, you know? It's a rough area, though. I guess you lot are trailbreaking? Dunno what you've seen so far, but on this side of the mountains, you've got orcs. There's a couple of tribes in the region. We have an understanding, them and me. We leave each other alone, and no one gets hurt. But, recently, they been coming up into my area more often, trespassing where they know they shouldn't go. Scared one off just a couple of days ago. It's unusual, you know? We been decent neighbors for years, and now they keep pushing. It's like someone's pushing them from the other direction, you know, and they're just pouring into my lands as a result."
"Now, as I said, I ain't opposed to a caravan route through my lands, but you're going to have to do something with them orcs if you want your wagons to be safe. Make a deal with them, or just deal with them. If you want, I can give you directions to the nearest scout camp in the region. Serves them right for setting traps on my land." He grinned again.
"How bad can they be? Boy, are you yanking my leg or dumb as a bag of rocks? Sure, your average orc may not be too dangerous, but they breed like goblins and there's usually somewhere upwards of 500 to a clan. Thinking like that's gonna get you killed."
Turning to Ava, he said, "I'll mark the camp I know about on your map. If you can get close without steel-for-brains over there getting you killed, ask to speak with Grakcha. She's their leader - or was the last time I dealt with them directly. SHe'll either cut a deal or try and kill you all. If you can get a deal, remind her of the one she has with me, and tell her Wilbert doesn't like trappers on our land."
You are welcome to stay the night, drinking Bark's brandy and enjoying being out of the weather.
You spend time healing and recovering, slipping into a warm, comfortable sleep before the fire in Bark's cabin. In the morning, you refreshed yourselves, and made your way out towards the orc camp. Given its location on your map, you expected to arrive shortly after noon. In reality, it was late afternoon when you saw signs of the orc camp - scratched markings on tree trunks, painted eyes on rocks, and the like. The more perceptive of your party saw shapes moving in the distant underbrush, though no one responded to any hails you might make.
The orc camp itself was smelled before it was seen, a faint hint of oily smoke catching in your nostrils. And then you were there. A few ruined buildings sheltered a bedraggled-looking band of orcs. Most of the adults looked to be wounded in some way or other, and there were several children and elderly orcs as well.
A heavily scarred orc woman with a broken tusk swaggers up to the group with confidence, ignoring the bandage around her right arm that is crusted in blood. "I am Grakcha. Who are you, and what do you want with the Broken Tusk clan?"
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Thellira raises her hand in greeting, "well met Grakcha, we are Rolo's waar .. err Rolo's Wardens. We are out seeking a clear trail across the mountains to Molthune. We ran into another Menadorian," she looks back at Nali and gives a slight, inquisitive shrug, " that told us the Broken Tusk would be instrumental in accomplishing our task. What say you?"
"A trade route through here? I'm listening. What's in this for the Broken Tusks?"
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Nali follows up after Rolo speaks. "You certainly look like you need help, and you also obviously had an understanding with Bark, perhaps you can with us too come to an understanding. Look, lets be frank here. The sky is the limit. We are treading on new ground for allies here. I propose not only allowing the trade route, but imagine the possibilities of being able to freely trade with traveling merchants across these lands. I am sure some sort of agreement could be made, which could prove beneficial for all parties involved."
"Allies, eh? Well, that may be, but we are not the only ones to call this area home. Not any more, at least. You think we live like this all the time?" Grakcha waved her hand at the hastily assembled tents and the wounded and miserable band of orcs.
"Look, I'll be blunt here, because my arm hurts like shrek and I have little patience these days. I'd like to take you up on your offer. A caravan route through here would profit all, and we could even hire out as trail guides and maybe put in a small trading post. The problem is, there's a dangerous ogre in the area. He's been hunting us for months, and managed to kill off most of our warriors and seriously injure the rest. About a week ago, he forced us out of the caves we called home, killing anyone that got in his way or didn't run away fast enough."
"You kill that ogre, and we can deal. I think it would be good for the regions to get some trade through here, and if that miserable old geezer in the hills and his damn dog are happy with it, I think it will work. Kill the ogre so we can get back to our home, and you've got yourself a safe route through here."