To the Tower! (IC) [Dragon Age]

[Red Moldova]

After the stew a couple of the Dalish pull out instruments - a lute like thing and a flute - and they begin to play a tune that sounds like a very old traditional country reel from South Orlais.

The King beckons Ivonne and Orhild to dance, and the young lady who had been speaking earlier with Ivonne curtseys and gestures from Thomas, Halendor, and Cambion toward two other young women who look even more like her than other Dalish women do. They might be blood kin. Regardless, they all seem to wish that their guests would join them.

Thomas politely refuses with a gesture and a smile, not wanting to demonstrate his poor dancing skills.

[curst_rein]

The King beckons Ivonne and Orhild to dance, and the young lady who had been speaking earlier with Ivonne curtseys and gestures from Thomas, Halendor, and Cambion toward two other young women who look even more like her than other Dalish women do. They might be blood kin. Regardless, they all seem to wish that their guests would join them.

Cambion takes quick stock of the Mood, the Meticulous Repairs and Care for Equipment, the Urgency to welcome their Guests and he Smiles.
He gets to his feet, stows his weapons, straightens his Tabard and sweeps back his hair before turning to the Ladies of the Dance and, after Formally Bowing with open arms, Moves into the Dance attempting to enjoy the revelry.

[Eulalios]

Even the drivers join in the dancing, the Anderfelns moving in an endearingly awkward fashion - it's clear that their native dances are more emphatic and less partnered than is the southern tradition.

Spoiler: Perception rolls

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Ivonne Perc. [1d6] = 3 D[1d6] = 6 [1d6] = 4 = 13
Cambion Perc. [1d6] = 1 D[1d6] = 1 [1d6] = 2 = 4
Thomas Perc. [1d6] = 1 D[1d6] = 5 [1d6] = 2 = 8
Halendor Perc. [1d6] = 4 D[1d6] = 1 [1d6] = 5 = 10

Spoiler: Ivonne

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The Dalish girl relates intermittently, as the dance brings her past Ivonne, that her clan are the last heirs of the Dalish royal house, and that her life long they have roamed the southern hills from the Frostbacks to the ocean. They had heard that a caravan would be passing along the road to Ostagar, and wanted to trade, so they have been camped at this spot two days.

ETA: Perception roll result During the dance, also, Ivonne overhears some more scraps of conversation between the King and her employer. There have been "rumors" and "missing" and "don't know."

Spoiler: Cambion

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The Nevarran knight finds himself shuttled between a pair of charming Dalish lasses, both of whom ask him lengthy questions about his life in the Tevinder provinces before laughingly passing him off partway through his attempts to correct their misunderstandings of northern geography, politics, art, and economy.

Spoiler: Thomas

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The man at arms sits with a couple of the drivers who also are timid of their paired left feet - and with Sidney and Tuaiss, who don't seem to lack grace. "I don't like this," Tuaiss says dourly. "Never heard good of these freebooting elves." She wrinkles her face as if she means to spit, then pauses and considers the festivities. "Keep an eye sharp as their ears," she tells Sidney. "I'm going to pee." She struts off around the hillside in search of privacy.

Spoiler: Halendor

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What?

After a time the dance is over. Orhild is instructing two of the drivers to unload several barrels of root veggies, and to load on some heavy bundles of furs produced from under a couple of the Dalish aravels. The King seems pleased. The other elves are beginning to disperse, stretching and yawning, several of them checking over their wagons' wheels and harness, others cupping hands to their mouths and making sharp coughing noises. Cambion recognizes those as something like the calls that hunters make for deer, in the mountains near Cumberland.

Orhild calls for the crew to "fall in! We're for the south." Sidney looks confused. "Where's Tuaiss?" It has been more than half an hour since she wandered round the hill.

[black velvet]

After a time the dance is over.

Once it's clear there will be no more dancing Ivonne uses the privacy of one of the wagons and changes back into her leather frock and thigh high boots. After it she joins the rest of the crew.

Orhild calls for the crew to "fall in! We're for the south." Sidney looks confused. "Where's Tuaiss?" It has been more than half an hour since she wandered round the hill.

It's only then Ivonne notices the older woman disappeared "When did you last see her?" the girl asks, looking around.

[Red Moldova]

Thomas stands up and helps the wagons get ready to move.

[Eulalios]

There's a lot of bustle and people arguing about the best way to find Tuaiss, and around the time Orhild has organized search parties from the wagon crew, while the Dalish by their reticence have made clear their lack of interest in the question ... Tuaiss shows up, walking toward you, holding in both hands a wooden rod about twice the thickness of Cambion's thumb and as long as her forearm. One end of the rod is splintered, the other has three metal wings spaced around it, their edges roughly aligned to the length of the rod.

"Sidney!" she says, when she is about twenty yards distant. "You know what this is." Her clothing is stained with mud; it looks like she was climbing in the swamp.

Sidney looks at the winged rod, and flinches.

[black velvet]

At the sight of Tuaiss Ivonne sighs with relief.

"Is that some kind of a weapon?" the girl asks with a puzzled look on her face.

[Eulalios]

"It's a bolt from a crossbow," Sidney says grimly. His whole body seems limp as he stands there, still staring at the thick stick with its metal wings. "Only the horned ones use those."

[black velvet]

"Quanari? In Ferelden?" Ivonne asks wide-eyed. "What are they doing here?"

[Eulalios]

Orhild approaches Tuaiss and carefully examines the massive projectile that the taller woman grasps. The dwarf's face is expressionless, except for a vertical crease between her eyebrows. She grasps one of the metal vanes between her stubby, sturdy fingers. "Workmanlike," she says. "Brass."

She gently takes the bolt from Tuaiss and wanders back to the wagons, gesturing for her crew and the Dalish King to join in a circle. Twisting the bolt between her hands she peers at each of the metal wings. "This is stamp work," she says, "punched from a sheet by a trip-hammer. The nearest trip-hammer I know of, is up in Orzammar. It's not used for brass. None others east of the Frostbacks. This came south cross the Sea."

Tuaiss, Sidney, and Thomar stand elbows touching, looking at the bolt. The Dalish King stands behind Orhild, looking down over her. "This ... might be, this, relates to the stories we heard."

[Red Moldova]

"This ... might be, this, relates to the stories we heard."

"What stories exactly?"

[Eulalios]

"What stories exactly?"

The King looks over at the northern warrior, one eyebrow twitched upward. He quickly scans Thomas' big sword, his grim young face. "You're not much for dancing," he says.

The King glances down at Orhild, across at Ivonne and Cambion. "We've heard tell of entire houses missing, not met for the appointed feasts. From Orhild, we hear these tales have not been told among you shemlen of the Bann. But among our own folk, the stories came hundreds of miles, brought us down from the slopes of the Frostbacks, eastward traveling toward the stories' sources. Now, we see an unknown thing, and hear that you know it. Your companions' faces show it is dangerous. We have been told it roams east of this Road."

[black velvet]

Ivonne looks at Orhild "We aren't going east, right?" she asks just to be sure.

[Eulalios]

The dwarven merchant shrugs. "South," she says. "Load up." She turns to face the Dalish King. "I didn't know the tales you told me, and they aren't my concern. We're for Ostagar. Best luck to your highness."

In a bustle of effort, the two groups part crossways, the Dalish hitching their hallas up to the aravels while Orhild's wagons creak along up the continual southward slope toward the next hilltop.

= = =

The sun slides westward across the cloudless blue sky, toward the peaks of the Frostbacks. The oxen and buro trample leagues of paving under their hooves and claws. As the rim of the blazing summer disc touches the gleaming white peaks to the west, Orhild calls halt for camp at a meadow along a stream. The meadow overlooks the hills that the party has traversed, and very far to the north horizon, can they faintly see a glint from Lake Calenhad? Probably not; it's a long way behind them now. The summer air is increasingly cool as the night comes on.

What do you do?

[Red Moldova]

Thomas looks around for the tallest tree he can find, shrugs of his armor, unbelts his sword and begins climbing to get a better vantage point and see that glint.

[black velvet]

First Ivonne refreshes and cleans herself in the stream. Then she starts to prepare deer stew for the group.

[Eulalios]

The tallest tree is ... really, really tall. Like over a hundred feet. Orhild looks at Thomas shedding armor as the rest of the armed crew set up a defensive circle per her original instructions. She shakes her head. She says nothing to Thomas, just walks away to check on the draft beasts as he makes his first attempts up the tree.

[Red Moldova]

Rolls

Spoiler

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1. (3d6+3)[2][2][1](8)
2. (3d6+3)[4][1][4](12)
3. (3d6+3)[6][6][5](20)
4. (3d6+3)[1][1][2](7)
5. (3d6+3)[4][1][4](12)
6. (3d6+3)[3][1][6](13)

[Eulalios]

Spoiler: Thomas

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About sixty feet up the tree (after a couple of near-falls), you have a clear view down over the hill tops. The steady upward road has brought this caravan quite high into the mountains (probably more than a mile up!).

Indeed, the distant glint is not Lake Calenhad, but rather its smaller and nameless companion. Next it you can see the tiny, tiny buildings and smoke cloud of Lothering. To the west and east of Lothering, the marble pavers of the old Imperial Highways glint in the setting sun. Your own backroad runs nearly straight up into the hills from the distant little town.

To the left of your backroad, amid the rolling woodlands, you can see the thin threads of smoke rising from evening cookfires amid the cleared miles surrounding the Tewars' "bann." From this distance, the walled area of the bann is smaller than the nail of your little finger, and the entire cleared area is barely as big as your outstretched hand.

Glancing southward, it appears that the hills continue to rise for what looks like another (half day?) of travel, then level off. The southern hilltops are bare rock, and indeed, this hill seems to be the last one with trees at its top. Also, the road southward ceases the steady rise and near-straightness that has become familiar over the past few days; instead it begins to dip and rise and wind among the taller hills.

A twisting pillar of black smoke rises from beyond the second range of southward hills, maybe eight miles distant.

Spoiler: Ivonne

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A fire is easily started by one of the Anderfelns. Carrots, potatoes, onions, and cabbage are produced by another, and the third slips out a gleaming chef's knife from his boot; after wiping that delicately on a scrap of leather, he rapidly preps the vegetables. A fourth driver, finished unhaltering the beasts, is sent downslope to fetch water, while a fifth sets up the tripod and cauldron. Clearly, they have been impressed by Ivonne's culinary skill. However, it remains unclear whether this dinner will have any meat.

Ivonne and several of the drivers have started a dinner over the fire, and Orhild is inspecting the wagons. Thomas is up a tree. Halendor, Cambion, Thomar, Tuaiss, and Sidney stand ready with their weapons among the wagons. The other drivers still are tending the draft beasts.

Any actions before nightfall?

[black velvet]

Ivonne focuses on cooking vegetables, hoping someone will bring her some meat.

[Red Moldova]

Thomas scrambles down from his treetops perch and hurriedly finds Orhlid. With a serious look on his face he informs her of the plume of black smoke he spotted coming from beyond the hills, eight miles to the south. "We may have trouble."

[Eulalios]

Orhild sighs. "We can't catch a damn break this trip.

"That smoke sounds like trouble at the Old Town, which is where we usually stop to repack on mules, to resupply, and to trade with ... various folk. Past there the road is broken by an landslide long before my time, we usually would leave the wagons and draft beasts to pick up when we come north again."

She shrugs, hands spread: <what do you want?> "Take watch from someone who can hunt with a bow, and send them west into the woods to find a deer. Tell Joblun to filch a side a bacon from cart number four, they won't miss it much at the Tower. That's it. I gotta think."

After the dinner, the dwarf sets the crew in armed watches - first Ivonne and Halendor, then Cambion and Thomar, then Thomas and Sidney. It is a clear night with a full moon; the watches are easy, falling asleep is not.

= - = - =

Around the time that the moon perches on the peaks of the Frostbacks, near a hundred leagues west, Thomas sees some big beast shambling down the opposite hillside, making good speed toward the wagons - probably with special interest in wagon number eight, where the fresh deer carcass has been strapped to one side. As the creature bumps smaller trees with its shoulders or hips, the leaves shake and it grunts a deep sighing growl.

Though not an expert, Thomas thinks the thing might be a Bear.

Thomas and Sidney are armored and armed and they are the only ones awake. What do you do?

[Red Moldova]

Thomas swears loudly before sprinting in the direction of the Bear "Come on!" he shouts to Sidney, drawing his Javelin, he puts his free hand to his mouth and lets loose a loud whistle.

Rolls

Spoiler

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Constitution (Running) (3d6+2)[3][3][3](11)

[Eulalios]

As Thomas reaches the wagons he realizes that Sidney has turned aside to seize a smoldering stick from the small camp fire, and to yell louder and nearer to their sleeping comrades. Meanwhile the shambling bear has stopped its approach and stands swaying at the top of a small cliff, maybe six feet high and about forty yards from the road. Between it and the road is a tangle of shrubs and brambles, all dark gray in the white light of the moon. The bear shifts its weight and swings its head left, right, left, wrinkling back its lips so that moonlight gleams on its fearsome teeth. It opens its mouth and huffs.

Then it leaps fluidly down from the cliff into the brush.

Spoiler: Although the bear is no longer visible,

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the noisily-thrashing vegetation suggests it's charging toward the road. If the bear takes a straight-line run, it will break out of the brambles about ten yards from Thomas and the wagons.

[Red Moldova]

Huffing and puffing, Thomas draws his shield and lopes over to where he expects the bear to come closest to the camp. Shouting one final warning to those he passes by he gathers himself.

[Eulalios]

Spoiler: The bear comes out of the brambles at speed

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(3d6+2)[2][1][3](8) Initiative; (3d6+8)[2][3][6](19) Claws

[Red Moldova]

Initiative?

Spoiler

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Initiative: (3d6)[3][2][1](6)

[Eulalios]

As Thomas brings his shield into position, the massive ursine surges from the brush in a flat-out gallumphing run. Bounding past the warrior,

Spoiler: the bear almost as an afterthought lashes out with a hind foot:

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(2d6+6)[5][6](17) clawed kick

[Red Moldova]

Thomas clutches a hand to his chest after reeling from the bear's attack, gasping for breath as he collects himself. Feeling a dull ache in his chest and having some trouble breathing he says to himself "that isn't good...", the words coming out as a soft wheeze. Standing up shakily he begins chasing after the bear, steps uncertain at first but gaining resolve as he approaches. Coming into range he throws his spear, aiming for it's flank.

Spoiler

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Throwing Spear
To-Hit: (3d6+4)[5][4][5](18)
Damage: (1d6+4)[4](8)

[Eulalios]

The throw is clean, the head and haft sink into the bear's left shoulder just inches too high to cleave the armpit. The bear momentarily loses its footing and bellows outrage as it dives chin-first into the marble paving only a few yards short of the blood puddled beneath the draining deer carcass.

Spoiler: Mighty Blow

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(1d6)[6](6) extra damage