GM post

Vale blinks in surprise at being addressed by the towering half-orc, staring first at her mottled skin then at her oversized incisor teeth with unabashed suspicion. Nevertheless, it takes him a few seconds before he realises what he is doing and coughs hastily.

"Yeh, I can cut those buggers up good if yer let me. I'm an axe man. Pike'll get caught in the trees. Give me that one, first halfblood I see, I split his damn skull for my momma's gravestone." He staggers to his feet and takes a few tentative steps to test his legs, glancing at Naya as she sprinkles the leaf-littered earth around the pit trap with liberal scoops of the chilli powder from Rico's pouches. Standing upright, the peak of Vale's bald pate easily reaches Rico's chin - even with his recent starvation, he is a tall, strapping man. In his Black Arrow armour and with his muscles filled out, he would have cut a magnificent figure.

Vale reaches out a grimy hand for Rico's hatchet. "Come on, we'd best hurry. Yer kitchen spice won't slow them for long."

*****

Doubling back towards the river and down the dirt path you'd just climbed, Vale limps along as quickly as he can manage, making a good deal more noise than perhaps some of you are comfortable with as his feet scuff up stones and dried leaves. Already weakened from his presumably long confinement, he is soon panting so hard from the exertion that he wheezes in the cold air, goose-pimples raised on his flesh. While the more charitable (or worried) of your group might voice your concern, the man refuses all offers of help, insisting with a proud flash of the eyes that he can manage just fine, thank you.

"Ain't gonna wear no cloak but an Arrow one, now. And anyone helping me walk is one less pair of hands when we get into a scrap. Yer all just keep a lookout for those worgs or any bigfolk."

Shalelu seems satisfied enough with the change in direction, given that its purpose is to rescue the man whose name she'd found important. Leaping lightly from rock to rock as she brings up the rear of your group, with an occasional backward glance to check for pursuers, she nevertheless seems lost in her own thoughts, her brow furrowed as she retreats inward. In the end, it falls to Red to keep a more careful look out (difficult as it is at times for the tiny rogue to squint back uphill when there are large boulders and trees blocking her line of sight).

Near the wooden log bridge where you'd crossed the Skull River, Vale veers off the dirty path and into the woods. For those of you more experienced in the ways of the forest, you recognise that the man is following a poorly-maintained trail - patches of earth trodden bare, almost impossible to pick out from under the profusion of ferns and shrubs that manage to grow under the conifers.

"We'd no idea those bastards had even moved so close to the Ferry, see," he grunts, shifting Rico's hatchet to his other hand. "Our patrol trails take us up and 'round the forest, and we'd always figured that if any halfbloods or their sort came close to man-land, we'd have bodies turning up in no time at all. Turns out they were smart enough to hold their hooks off-"

At this point, Vale's explanation is cut short by a chorus of howls and barks from somewhere behind you. Scowling, Shalelu immediately plucks forth an arrow from her quiver and glances sharply at the man. "They'll be on us soon. How much further?"

"Few hundred paces, as the crow flies." Vale seems much less perturbed than the elf at the prospect of combat as he hefts the hatchet and nods imperceptibly to himself, feeling its weight in his callused palms.

Shalelu tosses her hair back with an impatient shake of the head, looking over at Rico and Setsuna. "If they catch us before we get to this ogrekin lair, we'll be trapped with hostiles on both sides. And it'll be their territory, on their terms. I say we greet this hunter fellow here and put an end to him and his dogs."