Search Posts
Rokko lowered his bow a jot as seemingly friendly relations were established with the talking wolf and her pack. "Where have you explored?" he asked.
Rokko took out his bow and covered Vi as she moved down the corridor.
As Bronwyn skipped forwards to engage - and quite possibly pet - the giant talking wolf Rokko called, "Wait, B! If it is intelligent, it is also capable of deception, and it seems to have no qualms about consuming humanoids by the look of things. Stay back until we know its intentions." He turned to the wolf. "So... What are you doing here?"
"Let me check," says Rokko.
"Does the ring do anything other that identify a Cannith heir? Could it open any doors?" asked Rokko.
"Don't know about the noise. But something dragged off to, quite possibly, be eaten suggests undead like ghouls," whispered Rokko grimly.
Rokko stumbled and fell to his knees. When the room stopped spinning he looked about curiously. When Vi has her frivolous moment with the washing pile Rokko chided, "Be careful, we don't know what's down here. The Mournland is hostile to all life, even down here, so leave things alone unless we need to touch them. It would be a shame if we all died because we got careless."
"I can provide some healing, I think," said Rokko. He paused for a moment, head bent in prayer. A wave of warmth emanated from him, providing a modicum of healing and repair even in this dismal land.
OK, signing off for a week.
"If your intentions are good, then it's no problem," said Rokko.
Rokko glanced at Vi's thumb and handed her a gauze pad. "I'll leave you to patch that up. Try a bit of compression."
"More bloodshed. What happened here? Perhaps we should investigate. But, then again, perhaps we should just leave well alone given the area seems to have claimed more recent victims." Rokko looked about warily.
Rokko pulled needle and thread from his pack. "That's a nasty cut," he said, "It'll need stitching."
Rokko worked quickly and efficiently, ignoring the occasional whimper from his patient. He then covered the wound up with a clean bandage. "There you go, as good as new."
"The soldier is dead, Vi. Everyone in Cyre is. It seems a little, I don't know, disrespectful to impersonate her. Maybe you have your reasons, but it is a little disturbing." Rokko looks about the scene of horror. "I don't know, we can't bury them. But we should leave them in peace, and not walk about in their shapes."
"Doluhrr! What's that?"
"I have a healer's kit."
Rokko sat in the cart and looked out at the dead arrayed before him. He shook his head at the folly of war and closed his eyes to offer a prayer to their souls, and those of the others killed on the Day of Mourning. His eyes snapped open at the sound of combat. As the skeletal wolves closed on his companions he jumped from the wagon and closed the gap with Vi and Bronwyn.
"It's the mist," said Rokko, his tone firm and resolute. "It's affecting how we feel. We are entering a land of death and despair, and the mist is its avatar. But we have truth and justice on our side, and we need not feel hopeless. We are soldiers, and if we desert our post then evil prevails. I, for one, will not let that happen. We will press on, do what we need to do, and leave this accursed place when we have completed our task."
Rokko laughed hysterically for a minute or so as the land cart sped away before getting a grip on himself. He was mildly surprised to still be alive. He'd shot at a vampire and fled a zombie army and lived to tell the tale. Clearly the Flame was protecting him that night, and he murmured a prayer of thanks.
"There, here's over there!" called Rokko.
Rokko pumped his short legs, not for the first time feeling grateful for a goblin's relative swiftness. He chased after Bronwyn, casting a furtive glance back to see the others. He hoped he wouldn't have to stop to try and provide cover for the warforged.
Rokko decides he's done his bit. The vampire - if that is what it is - has defeated his best shot, and he has nothing much else in his armoury. As his friends flee, he joins them.
Rokko gave the newcomer the quick once-over. He might be a vampire, but it was not unknown for Blood of Vol cultists to want to emulate undead either. If it was a vampire, their journey had probably ended. On the other hand, Rokko wasn't going to give it the satisfaction of going down meekly. "Die, villain!" he hissed, drew his bow and fired in a smooth motion.
"Actually, Palisade, your understanding of patriotism is faulty. It is against the rules of war to kill a captive once they have offered surrender. And it is also stupid. If soldiers knew they would be killed if they surrendered, they would fight to the death. That would deprive us of potential intelligence and could also lead to higher casualties when they are not necessary. Finally, it is just wrong. By surrendering he was choosing to live, not to die. If you kill him now you have taken a decision, not him. An evil decision that would stain your soul," said Rokko, adding, "Assuming you have a soul, that is."
"If we can destroy it easily and reasonably unobtrusively, i suggest we do it. Otherwise, I think it would be best if we rendezvous with Failin," said Rokko.
Rokko blinked in surprise that it was the warforged and not the wizard who deduced the puzzle. Then he shrugged - this journey was much more of an eye-opening than he had bargained for, and this was another revelation to add to the others. "Well done, Palisade," he said, "I didn't have a clue." Though when the warforged recommended killing the prisoner Rokko immediately replied, "No! He surrendered, we have to treat him properly or we would be as bad as the Emerald Claw. Maybe we will have to take him with us..?" he added doubtfully.
Rokko regarded the man suspiciously. He had no idea what the various seals and statues might mean.
Rokko looked at the soldier. "What are you digging for?"
Rokko paused, ready to cast his spell on Squeak should the subterfuge fail.
As he heard the approaching zombies, Rokko realised there was little he could do to stop new combatants joining the fight. "Flame, bring us strength to strike down this unclean horde!" He then scooted round next to Squeak, who was damaged from the fight. "Don't worry," he whispered to the 'forged, "The Flame has granted me a prayer of protection I can lay upon you."
Rokko cursed. Soon the whole encampment would be down upon them. Sadly, his companions seemed completely incapable of any form of subtlety at all. He decided there was nothing more to do but try and end this quickly. He raised his bow and shot at the soldier.
Rokko muttered a brief prayer to the Flame asking it to guide the attacks of his friends.
"We don't want to fight it out here and draw more to us. We follow it inside and take it out there."
"When it goes back in, we'll follow it inside," whispers Rokko, "Get ready to move."
Rokko is slightly taken aback when Val changed form. Then he shrugged - he was aware of changelings and their abilities, and he'd seen weirder in the Cogs. He nodded at the zombie dwarf who was now beside him. "Thanks for letting me know."
Rokko nodded his assent. "Those orders could involve attacking strangers. We should be careful."
Rokko paused, bow in hand. He watched the zombie intently to see if it moved towards them or just went back inside the building.
"We aren't going home." Rokko pondered. "Of course, if they haven't found it, it might not be there. But unless we look, we'll never find out. I don't like the idea of waiting for them to find it in case we can't get it back from them. So frontal assault - minus fire magic - looks like our option."
"If we approach from the north, we should avoid the camp and remain unseen, at least by the people there, even with your lack of stealth. Once we get in, your skill at frontal assaults will doubtless come in very handy," said Rokko. "I'm more concerned about explosions from fire magic than what you might do."
Silver fire is always the answer, thought Rokko, but decided not to say it out loud.
"Thank you, Failin," said Rokko, "May the Flame light your path. And I look forward to seeing you in the morning."
Rokko and Val crept from the hiding place and back out into the village. Rokko was grateful the others had elected to stay behind - the clumping of the warforged's feet on the way there had sounded like enough to alert the whole of Darguun. Fortunately they had stayed out of sight and out of earshot from the Emerald Claw encampment.
"What do you think they are doing?" whispered Rokko to Val. "Why are they digging up their fellows?" He shook his head. "They seem harmless enough right now, and I'm not sure it has much to do with what we seek." He looked at the ravaged temple to the Flame wistfully, but possible opposition from undead and the Emerald Claw made its reconsecration impractical for the moment.
Back at the shelter, Rokko and Val explained what they had seen. "We found what looks like a Cannith building. There are more zombies digging, and maybe others in there too - we saw lights. Maybe if we can strike quickly and quietly we can take them by surprise, take what we want and get away without alerting the camp." He looked at B. "That may mean less fire, and more subtlety. The zombies may not be too much opposition, but we don't know who, or what, may also be in there." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Undead don't normally need light to see. So I suspect living overseers."
Rokko's mouth twisted as he recognised a rite of the vile Blood of Vol cult. He muttered a prayer to the Silver Flame under his breath. But attacking the soldiers would be suicidal, so he moved on to check the ruins to the north.
Rokko looked at the glass-smothered village with a mixture of horror and awe. The Day of Mourning had wreaked terrible havoc, but he could barely imagine the terror when whatever disaster had struck here. If the undead wandering the ruins were the remains of the villagers, he hoped that maybe he might be able to put some of them out of their misery. "Come on," he whispered to Val, "Let's get back and tell them what we've seen."
After agreeing the plan, Rokko crept out and towards the camp, sticking to the shadows as he went.
Rokko just rolled his eyes.
"I am normally the last person to discourage theological speculation but can we concentrate on the scouting? Or we might all end up finding out about the afterlife."
"I wasn't expecting him to accompany me there. Only on the scouting trip," replied Rokko wearily.
Rokko looked at Squeak to see if he was joking, and then concluded that he probably wasn't. "I was assuming that Val might accompany me," he added.
"Undead?" said Rokko grimly. "We must be ready to fight. These abominations must be destroyed. I take it these are the opposition you have faced in the past?""
"Perhaps we should scout, find out the disposition of our enemies and what that sound is? Perhaps they are enslaved and may help us if it turns into a fight. I am small and can see in the dark, so I can probably make my way unseen. And I'm a goblin - I doubt they would view me as suspicious even if they saw me."
"Any rumours about the mine?" asked Rokko.
As a newcomer to the group, Rokko kept his own counsel with Failin and let the others do the talking. He wasn't entirely sure at this point what he was getting into, but his intuition told him that he had found solid companions who were doing their bit for righteousness. He sat back and relaxed as the magical conveyance spirited them across the Darguun landscape. He was less concerned by Failin's disappearance in front of the bugbears. As a Sharn goblin - a different race in a land dominated by others - he knew the value of a strategic withdrawal and not drawing too much attention, and the bugbears had been handled efficiently enough. Plus, a dead Orien heir meant walking to Rose Quarry. As he stretched his legs in the back of the land cart, he mused that that would never do.
"Begone, villains!" boomed Rokko.
|