"And what of Varn? Politically... is he a wounded boar or is he on the spit?"
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I would prefer to stick with E6 as well.
"A seasoned leader of men who can fight and survive in the wild? If you can see your heart aligning with our efforts, we'd be fools not to see your worth, Commander." Morley nods to Falgrim. "I'm Morley Worgendale."
"M'Lord, I urge you to consider Ser Rilskel is an agent directly under Lady Orlovsky. It was his command... his oath which saved many lives. Perhaps your concerns are a council matter as you say. I'm sure your record will carry weight should you decide to bring this matter to their attention. For now, lets get this convoy moving."
"Mhmm.." Morley already has the shot ready... he pulls the trigger.
Morley acts as a shill... He raises his musket, and yells with genuine enthusiasm.
Morley dashes for his musket, and turns back to see where Thad had cut through the crowd. He follows as quickly as he can 'I better be able to get a couple shots off before they run again...' Once he steps through the throng of travelers and sees the enemy approaching, Morley knows there's something odd. He squints trying to make sense of the shapes in the dust beyond the bandits, and shakes his head.
He asks those already there, those still approaching the flank forming into a front line with urgency. "D'we try and slow em down? Gimme a word soon."
Morley is a little off-kilter with the implications of this... certainly not what he expected when he rode out here. With the rampant thoughts come concerns.
None of Morley's past experience with crying women had prepared him for this awkward moment. Morley eyed Antha for a bit... wondering if she truly believed he'd been magicked, or if it was her way of consoling. He then decided it didn't matter what he thought so why think it?
Morley nods when Teyran mentions his name, and lets slip a smile... partially from LoTae's discomfort, but mostly at the spectacle. Pompous toad Varn smiling and waving like a festival queen on parade. "Oh well... there are far worse people in the world.."
"Gimme an hour and I'll be ready." Morley starts to go, but stops... addressing Swordlord Garess. "By your leave M'lord... I would like to send word to two of my trusted brothers of the Order. They are good men who would pull more than their own weight stationed here, and would be quite helpful in bringing the cavalry back up to snuff, sir."
Morley tries to occupy his thoughts with pragmatism. He unfolds the map, and traces South Rostland Road with his finger. "We should head east." Morley moves over to let others see the map. "That's the direction the fort was hit from... and if the Nob'es are traveling along here..." He hides his grimace; realizing his less than respectful reference, and his intention to continue with a metaphor of trapping hedgehogs.
Restov is east/northeast of us?
While short of the "Amen" type of affirmation from his companions he would have preferred, Morley nods in deference to Antha's softening of his words. He looks over himself mulling over the "rough-hewn" comment - and considers going into how difficult it is to remove berry stains from a tabard, but keeps quiet to give Swordlord Garess his full attention.
While the bandits are being led out, Morley sees the veiled unease in LoTae's face as she looks around, and tries to assure her... "...and don't sweat it m'elf lady. Yer in good company. No one'll push you to spill yer guts, and yer free to hit the road whenever it suits ya. This place here may look rough, but this is day one of culling filth who prey on the peaceful and the weak. And when we folk get set on taking out trash who go and tick us off... got about much chance of stoppin us as prying a mug from a dwarf."
"think you meant azkaz dekhel..." Morley mutters near Teyran as he mounts up, then smiles to suggest it was a feigned complaint... more in jest and to show he knows dwarven. Dwarven: "suspicious elf"
"I'd like to think we humans - as a whole, are somewhere between barbarism and civilized. Things.. just.. kinda got stalled 'round here on the road to smart town. Our old gal Antha and shiny friend Teyran here sure do class us folksy folk up a bit.... me'thinks. Not to mention Arasmes here... not once have I caught him picking his toes at mealtime.... That's right classy for a human, eh?" He smiles genuinely... "all in good fun... I hope..."
"I'd assume, m'lady, this Stag Fort is where the Stag Lord lays his weary head at night. Right now I'm just hopin they don't call him the Stag Lord 'cos he runs away faster than the other bandits." Morley reloads his musket, and mutters something about everyone trading their weapons for nets next time. "I'd say we got a tight grip on the reins here. Think I'll hoof it back to retrieve our mounts. If I run into any trouble, you'll be hearin from old Embermaw." He shoulders his musket, and turns to go.
Morley - who had just jogged up, starts to reach for his rope, but realizes... "Left my gear with the horses. Catching these scramblin bandits has been like pickin up apple seeds with one finger. Was expecting to fight... not watch em fly off like spooked starlings." He shrugs and smirks pointing to the bandits present with his musket... hoping a wink is unnecessary "Roll em up like sausages in their tents and drag em back?"
Morley slows as the bandits approach. Once the nearest thug comes within a few dozen feet, Morley levels his musket "Hey.. catch!", and fires. He immediately slings his firearm over his back and equips his shield and axe before more bandits come within range.
Sorry to hear. I'll be here too. Although I am looking forward to being able to continue, there is zero frustration on my part.
Ayep. Ready to bag some bandits.
Works for me. Morley won't give up on ya. No permanent damage... no problem.
Morley nods to Valeska, and moves as quickly as he can move with caution. He feels the knot in his stomach like a stale dinner roll. He gives Grendolynn an involuntary nervous smile as he approaches her, but drops it as she growls and hustles off toward the camp.
PMS affects your posting?
Morley watches from behind fair cover for Tad's return. When he thinks he hears Tad, and doesn't see him coming, his stomach knots. He looks back at the others in the group, and tries to get their attention to sign that he is moving forward.
DM:
"Well these folk have already shown their mettle back at Oleg's. With this lot, I think we go out there with loud voices... banging pots and pans half'll turn tail and run." Morley throws down the fat stick he'd been trying to whittle, and looks into the woods. "I just wish Miss green spitfire'd get back... guessin she'd know a good soft wood fit for carvin." He wipes his palms on his thighs, and folds his arms to hide his shaking hands.
"I'll up the ante on annoying with 'Hope for the best, prepare for the worst'... Sure you heard that before, eh?" He gives Valeska his best "half in jest" look as he is busy with his new whittling knife... clearly in his first few hours of trying to teach himself.
Morley dismounts and stretches. "Sounds good. Find us a nice rally point outta sight of their spotters." He backtracks a few dozen feet, and finds a tree suitable to lash his horse.
"Believe I heard fort before... those four letters tacked on the end do make it a pantload more foreboding. Less somethin one mighta thrown together with childhood chums, and more somethin we'll needta lay siege to." Morley wipes his brow with his tabard, noticing just now he is running out of clean spots. "Think I'll just put that outta my mind as long as I'm able."
"Well... that is a poser. We keep strollin around their camp kickin over toadstools, we might run into em while we're busy lickin our wounds from another scrap. Might add, unless we're gettin a retinue from Swordlord Squarechin or Grendolyn's plannin on learnin to breath fire, we stand no better chance later than now. On the other hand..." He shrugs, apparently not interested in continuing his thought. "Finish off the berries and shaggy inkcap first. They don't travel well"
Good to hear and good to hear.
"Doubt you'll find much meat running around nearby... " Morley nods to the sleeping unbeared man.
"If you two ladies are hot to trot... Akiros has sworn fealty to Kesten. Leave the unbeared man in his care to sleep it off... we come back after checking out the pink dragon's mystical tree's infestation of magical beasties. Sound reasonable?"
Morley shrugs. "All we got on this guy is what you've told us.. so... unless you think he is still a threat..." He shrugs again and sees Valeska and Gren mounting up. "I'd say he has a hung jury at worst."
"Remember where we are... "
Morley watches the transformation in stunned silence. He then hears Akiros and asks, "You alright there?" on his way to check on the wounded. Once he takes a look at the injuries beyond his ability in first aid he asks, "Should we get started on setting camp? I'm guessin we'll be staying here for a while, eh?"
Helloo and welcome, LoTae. And no worries DM.
With his nerves calmed by Erostil's performance, Morley coolly closes the distance to get a better shot, then fires.
Leaning against the crumbling pillar, Morley swears to himself as he reloads. He tries to push the image of Teyran being mauled out of mind, and focuses on his training.
Morley takes a shot with his musket as it charges Teyran, but is too cautious avoiding his allies and shoots wide.
Morley moves forward slowly, and takes position; crouching between a large rock and ruined pillar.
Morley looks into the clearing as well with his musket ready. He tries to keep an eye on the beast's possible approaches... particularly the cave and the path north of the pool.
I placed your images Tad and Teyran... if you care to be placed somewhere else speak up.
After traveling half the remaining distance indicated by Akiros, Morley dismounts. Shield slung high on his shoulders and axe on his lower back, he holds his musket in one hand, and leads his mount with the other. "Plan?"
Having trouble keeping from smiling like a fool in the presence of the odd creatures, Morley states the obvious... "Sounds like no one round here would miss these Mites. Somethin we'll have to see to, eh?" Morley then addresses the Fey, "Was good to meet the two a'ya. Sure to never forget this day." and bows slightly in his saddle.
Morley sat quietly bewildered on his horse... Not wanting to be fooled again, he studied the creatures for quite some time before accepting them as real. As the conversation moves along, Morley hears his opportunity to find a connection with the odd little thing.
Morley keeps his irritation in check, and addresses the air around him. "Ha! Well done! You had us. We are moving on for now, but if we are to be neighbors... we should meet. Name's Morley."
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