Southern Comfort IC

[mattie_p]

Grath willingly offers some coffee to Delphi. "No chocolate, do not know what that is. But coffee Grath has for little Delphi."

If she has a mug, cup, or bowl, he pours some in. If she does not, he walks over to his pack and pulls a bowl out, pours some coffee into it, and hands it to her. He seems bemused by the stimulated halfling, and unconcerned that she might get over-active.

"Grath got a taste of coffee through Empire traders coming through town. Grath really likes coffee."

(Note, he probably has enough for two more people. Coffee pot item description is a little unclear, so grab some while you have a chance.)

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi has a little cup, and she sips the coffee happily, skipping around a bit as she does so, still a bit wired up from the fight. She looks over all the wolves' carcasses, as well as the progress on the boar. She then begins picking up small, loose stone, whipping them into trees with her sling, uncannily accurate, and the sound of stone meeting tree comes with steady regularity.

"This is nice, you guys. Our People may not be very creative namers, but we sure do make for good company. So, tell me," she pauses to sling another stone, "what do you all want out of life? What are you hoping to get out of our journey?"

[Linguz]

Dardiana approaches him and asks, "You mind if I have some to? I've only got wine with me and that makes for a poor drink sometimes." After she gets her coffee (or is denied it), she begins to make a game out of Delphi's stones being thrown, trying to knock them out of the sky with her blasts before they hit the tree. "Well, I'm hoping to become stronger by the end of this journey, so that I can live on my own and travel the world. But, what about you?"

[mattie_p]

Grath offers Dardiana some coffee as well, since she asked. He offers his own bowl.

"Grath is looking for strength. Strength to do what want without interference. Too many bothersome orcs in home village try to interfere with Grath. Grath wants to... to learn. To be free. Not sure what free is, but trying to learn."

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi laughs as Dardiana joins her, though she watches the warlock's hands with great interest as she fires her bolts of power. Delphi, not one to be show up, begins to move as she slings her bolts, and the movement results in a dramatic increase in the speed and power of her shots. She raises her own voice after a moment, slightly wistful. "I want to learn the name of the wind, see the face of the sky, and speak with the forest like a friend. I want to fell a giant with a sling, ride a dragon, and make a wish upon a star. I want to be a legend and a myth and a hero. I want to live until the day I die."

[Marlowe]

Bethlen looks up briefly from her inexpert butchering. "Then it's a pity you weren't born somewhere else." Then immediately looks like she regrets the statement. "...nothing."

[RaggedAngel]

Delphi slips over to Bethlen, a curious look on her face. She lays a hand on her shoulder, and when Bethlen looks up she finds Delphi's eyes to be large, green, and kind. "You've spoken so little about yourself. Please, go on. It wasn't nothing."

[stanleyindraven]

"Sounds like she feels either you could never be greater than you are, or that this world does not allow for you to reach such lofty goals," Horbin chimes in.

[Marlowe]

Bethlen's eyes don't change at all. Still as cold and dark as ravens sipping coffee from a black-iron pot at the bottom of a coal mine at midnight in winter. But she looks away and focusses on butchering the act of butchering.

"You could have been something else," she says, quietly. "Just something else. That might have made your dreams easier for you. But everything costs. And you may not have enjoyed it as much," and then she does make eye contact again. "You'll do fine. You'll have your own power and dignity. One you make for yourself. Mine is written for me. In shadow and lightning flash. And letters in iron. And early mornings. I'm not a morning person."

She stands up, a random piece of pig falling off her sickle. "Everybody full and fed? If Ashdown comes upon us, I'd rather they found us on the path, alert and ready, rather than feeding our faces. They're not foes, neither are they yet your friends. You only get one chance to make a first impression. You know."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald listens in on the conversations with a bemused look on his face, but decidees to keep his dreams to himself for now. After Bethlen's speech, however, he can't help but chime in.
"Must everything be so dark and grim always, Bethlen? There is great beauty in the lightning storms and even in the shadows of the night. None can say what truly lies over the horizon, indeed I'd call any famous diviner either a great lier or a very lucky fellow."

He picks up one of the raw pieces of meat and chews it, still talking.
"Its in our nature to be violent. Not just humans, but all beings. So I dare say we haven't chosen a bad path at all.
Oh, and if I do get ambushed and murdered, I'd rather do it on a full stomach, thank you very much."
At no point having stopped either smiling or chewing, Thorwald takes another piece of meat and leans on a rock next to the fire.

[Marlowe]

"Beauty? Yes. There is that. Where I spring from we respect power, for we'd be dead without it, and beauty, for without it we'd have nothing to live. You can call me grim, but I know what I know. And I know you're going to get Trichinosis if you keep eating that raw. Good thing you're a Cleric."

[AshesOfOld]

Thorwald starts laughing, so hard, in fact, that he chokes on his meat, and with tears rolling down his cheek he slaps Bethlen hard on the back with his armored mitt,
"Oho.. ha... Yes, good thing indeed! *cough* I'm getting more and more thrilled that I met the lot of you free-spirited fellows. These are glorious days, my newfound friends. We are jolly green giants walking the earth, with swords. Good thing, indeed."

[mattie_p]

"Glory is good," says Grath. "Sounds good, anyway. Glory of dying young? Not so much. Grath wants to live a long life, with lots of children and grandchildren on his knees. Before that, though, there is much to see and experience. Most orcs just live day to day, but not Grath."

[u-b]

Gregor does not participate in the talks. He eventually finishes cooking, then finishes eating, then puts down the fire...

"Hey, Grath, will you transport the trophies?" - scratches his head - "If not, I'll have to organize something..."

((ready to move on))

[Marlowe]

((So, no orgy? OK then, moving right along))

Kresta, once you wipe the grease off your face and get moving, leads you into the trees and then north, parallel to the stream on your left. Beneath the tree it's cool and dim, but there's only limited underbrush.

The mules, carrying more than their intended weight, are making slow going but are plainly much the better for the rest.

It's less than an hour before you come again to the banks of a wide, dark river flowing strongly from east to west. Its opposite bank is lined with dark forest, with distant hills showing blued out in the background.

The opposite bank is the Empire. So far, it looks much like anywhere else.

Bethlen moves up next to Kresta, leading Spike. Kresta speaks to her expositorially."East of here. Along the Stahlmund as I said." and more loudly to all. And everybody keep eyes and ears open".

[Corsair420]

I'll keep my eyes and ears peeled for anything... I may be quiet but sometimes you have to quiet to know something is there...

Spot: (1d20+1)[3]
Listen: (1d20+1)[14]

[u-b]

"Wherever, whenever... just consider is done."

Gregor keeps looking around as usual.

"So, east now, not going that side?"

Spoiler

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Gregor: spot 10+7 = 17, listen 10+3 = 13
Abyss: spot (1d20+5)[13], listen (1d20+5)[20], scent
Barry: spot (1d20+5)[10], listen (1d20+5)[21], scent
Cherry: spot (1d20+5)[17], listen (1d20+5)[6], scent

[Marlowe]

"I didn't bring a boat big enough to take three mules, some shaggy beasts, and your dogs. You could trying swimming it, if you like, but the current would put you several miles downstream by the time you reached the bank."

((It's a good kilometer across, dark and swift. Sorry the precise mention of how wide got edited out of the description.))

[Linguz]

Dardiana kept an eye on the trees and the rest of the places.

Spot: (1d20+3)[23]
Listen: (1d20+3)[11]

[mattie_p]

"Anyone want to make a raft?" asks Grath? He takes a look around for wood and other materials to make a raft. "Grath can swim across with no problem, but all the extra stuff will weigh down the group."

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Survival check to check for wood to make a raft, poles, etc. (note, Grath does not yet make the raft, he is checking for raw materials.)

Survival: (1d20+3)[18]

(taking 20, if necessary): 23.

[AshesOfOld]

"A raft?" Thorwald looks at Grath quizically. "We don't actually need to cross the river, my friend, just go alongside it. But be my guest. Just notice that the river flows in the wrong direction, so unless you've had a really healthy breakfast, I doubt you'll catch up to us by water."

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OOC: Unless Grath uses his whirling frenzy with a paddle perhaps?!

[Marlowe]

"We can cross at Trammelburgh, if you so desire. It's what the place is for." says Kresta with a hint of irritation. Bethlen gives her a long steady look, then turns to the party and adds "Do what you will, do what you want, but I remind you that this...Ajneguhs is based on this side of the river."

Cherry abruptly bounds out of the undergrowth, a strip of maroon cloth clutched in her teeth.

[u-b]

"So, we are not only ones who prefers riverside to going through the forest..."

When Cherry comes closer, Gregor pets her and takes that piece of maroon cloth.

"Good girl, good girl. Now show where you found it. Where you found it? Let's go."

[Marlowe]

It doesn't take long, only a few yards into the surrounding trees, to hear the croaking of the ravens. And only a few dozen yards beyond that to find the body of the Half-Orc you let go this morning. Her maroon cloak, for some reason, has been shredded, and it's shreds litter the forest floor and wave forlornly in the underbrush.

She has two arrow wounds, but the arrows that made them have been neatly pulled.

[u-b]

"So, that was a waste of a crossbow..."

Gregor checks the body in case he is wrong, then looks around and tries to determine exactly what happened.

Spoiler

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Survival (reading the tracks): (1d20+5)[18] (how long ago that was; who came whence; was there a chase or a surprise; something about composition of the winning side etc.)

[Marlowe]

The Half-Orc's tracks come from the direct south. Looking around reveals the tracks of four humanoids, an iron-shod horse and a couple of large dogs, who appear to have have come from the east and moved off south, apparently following the Half-Orcs trail back to where she came.

Also, you find a light crossbow and a set of ten bolts in the hollow of a tree. Neatly wrapped in a dark grey cloak with red trim.

((Where's everyone else?))

[u-b]

((If that deceased half-orc did not appear to have that "dark grey cloak with red trim" OR there are some other footprints near that tree))

Gregor unwraps the package found in the hollow of a tree and scratches his head.

"Four guys, a horse and a bunch of large dogs. No idea why they left it here, but I, for one, do not want to mess with them. This might be..." - he takes another look at half-orc - "...counterproductive."

With these words he repacks the package (in some clearly different fashion) and puts it back.

"Let's go?"

[AshesOfOld]

"I would have to agree with you." Thorwald says, scratching himself on the head a bit. "I like my ambushes one-sided."

[mattie_p]

"No point in waiting for ambush or hunters. Continue to Trammelburgh, then?"

Grath peers around while they wait or move, listening intently.

Spoiler

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spot:(1d20-1)[11]
listen: (1d20+1)[6]

[Marlowe]

You press on east along the bank of the Stahlmund, the strong dark water flowing to your left. The trees and tall and silent, save only for the twitter of birds. (Who, if anyone is paying attention, are telling everyone what they are)).

After about an hour, the river turn into a abrupt loop, and Trammelburgh is upon you. Or you are upon Trammelburgh. One or the other.

The castle is the single largest building any of you has ever seen. Built on rocky island, and built of it. Its lower levels are made of the same white rock than lines the bank, and its walls seem to rise straight out of the water. A slowly swaying bridge of iron chains connect it to a small village on the imperial bank by means of two intermediate towers on smaller eyots.

On your side of the river, the gatehouse is near enough to the bank that a (unusually long) drawbridge could (and in fact, frequently does) reach Redside territory. The trees are clear-felled for a heavy crossbow shot around, the stumps left in place.

On the ramparts of the gatehouse, something that looks like a rather repulsive Gargoyle suddenly moved and resolves into an obvious half-ogre wearing a dark-grey cloak (probably) with a red trim over a breastplate. He aims a complicated looking weapon at you. "You People! Stay right there! CAPTAIN!"

"Yes, yes" A rather hawkish man wearing grey cloak, mail shirt, and a certain look of I-didn't-dump-charisma appears on the rampart."A terrifying host indeed. I shall quite need to fetch my best clothes. Hoy! Fellows! Fellettes! Heh...What news? What business?"