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Dust, grit, and the occasional cloud of dandelion seeds blow past the windows of the small inn in outer Verbobonc, relics of the lack of rain this past week. The wind, at least, is enthusiastic enough, but the Basil Vine is well constructed if poorly named, and comfort is easy enough to find inside for a reasonable price. One that, it must be said, is welcome, for some of you are down to your last few coins. Peace is a welcome thing, but it does have its downsides for certain professions.
The door creaks open to admit a young pale-skinned monk in burgundy robes, his hair worn long after the fashion of Obad-Hai's devotees. "Ah, good day to you, brothers, sister. I am pleased to find you so easily. You have some time, I hope?" The man is vaguely familiar to Cecily and Tironius; most likely they had met him at the local monastery.
"I am Brother Thalos, as you may remember. The abbot was most pleased with the books you brought; he has sent me on quite a different matter. A letter came from one Ostler Gundigoot, of Hommlet, two days to the south; it seems the merchant who usually sells him the wine from our vineyards is days late, and will not likely be showing up. At any rate, he has purchased a good quantity from our order directly, and requested we seek out someone to ensure it reaches him safely. I believe he fears the worst became of the other one, and he has offered twenty five gold each for the delivery."
Thalos nods to Tironius. "You came to mind at once, I think. I know I would be quite safe entrusting such a valuable cargo to a fellow seeker of enlightenment. And we believe the rest of you to be capable and honourable as well. Will you accept the offer?"
A blue-haired bespectacled woman sits in the far corner of the common room. Her traveling dress is still dusty from the city's streets, and her large opaque glasses have an air of disappointment about them. Her black overcoat hangs loosely on her shoulders, and she's slumped over a small rounded table with her head resting atop the hard wood. A little black-and-white ferret wearing a very large amber collar pokes Cecily's head with his paws. The young wizard just huffs at Lunch, turns her head to face away from him, and sighs. She's clearly moping about something or the other, but doesn't speak about whatever her problems are. Anyone who's known her for very long can likely guess the reason: Someone refused to lend her a book she liked, and now she's sulking. This always happens anytime the group stops in a large city and someone is stingy with their reading material. Cecily's so engrossed in her moping she doesn't even notice the Obad-Hai monk enter the tavern.
Lunch, not caring for his Mistress' human problems, chitters angrily at her before jumping off the table. He dashes across the inn's floor aiming toward Kholzug. If the barbarian-turned-ranger doesn't stop him, then the little ferret darts up the half-orc's leg and stops to rest on his shoulder. It chitters happily at Kholzug, then chitters at the newcomer.
Tironius nods without a hint of emotion. He is sitting crosslegged on his chair, having spent the last few minutes contemplating the simple copper coin between his fingers with utmost attention. "Ensuring the safety of wine doesn't hold the grace of doing the same with books, but your monastery needs its worldly goods to pursue the enlightenment of the mind. An unpleasant truth it is a troubled road might hurt in your reading, writing and learning, but never must we shie away from the truth, for it derives its value from its very nature. I will lend my aid in this matter, Brother Thalos, and ensure the safety of your delivery to Hommlet."
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
A broken chair leg whistles through the air and cracks a hulking figure from behind as he slumps forward over the bar. Seen only by the seemingly unconcerned bartender who keeps on cleaning a cup, the scarred halforc who'd swayed forward in the nick of time, grins lopsidedly.
The wielder crows at a crowd of his cronies and drunkenly yells at his mark, "Datsch wotchu get fer messin' wid my girl, orc-scum bastard!"
The halforc suddenly slips off his stool and pivots with such swiftness that belies his behemoth bulk. He looms over the drunk and grates out while calmly counting out points on his fingers. "First, we brought 'er back 'ere safe and sound. Second, iffen I reads ye correckly, looks like she mightha been better off staying on the road. Third..."
The large warrior in the bearskin cloak lunges, grabs the sot by his shirt-front and growls into his face. "...nobody sez bad tings abaht mah mudder!" He then headbutts the man and hurls the him into his buddies, knocking down like ninepins. Some of them crash into other patrons of the Basil Vine and soon enough, curses and cries, chair legs and chicken legs, bottles and bodies are flying through the commons as an all-out brawl rages.
The halforc snatches up the falling chair-leg and parries another assailant hard enough to carry the blow through, wooden club and wooden bar sandwiching the sod's head with a meaty crack. He then tosses a clinking pouch of coins at the barkeep. "Hey! Sorreh fer the mess!"
The halforc keeps on whistling as he takes in both hands a tray heavy laden with trenchers of roast beef, black bread and steaming onions, carrots and mashed potatoes, all dribbling with butter and drowning in gravy. He tries to move carefully, so as to avoid spillage, but there were a couple of times when he had to let the mail beneath his overtunic do its job, set the tray down and beat back yet more drunken bravos and brawlers.
Along the way, he has to repress his reflexes as he feels something scrambling up his pant leg. A huge finger pats the ferret on its little head as the chittering creature mounts up between two of Kholzug's pauldron-spikes. "Hey, ya liddle rat. Good dodging and weaving ya got there" He stiffens for a moment when he sees the newcomer, but seeing as his companions apparently don't consider him a threat, he shrugs and continues on his way, dodging drunks and kicking clods.
He plonks the tray of dinner onto their table and steps back to let the tavern wench who'd been trailing behind him, bearing eight tall tankards of drink. Once those have been safely set down, the barbarian pounces upon the buxom barmaid with a savage embrace. At the first sign of displeasure, he lets her go immediately, bowing. As the wench stumbles off, flicking two fingers on each hand in a vulgar gesture, Kholzug laughs uproariously, grabs one of the tankards, drains the beer therein and slams it down hard on the tabletop.
The wildsman pushes one of the plates towards Cecily and shakes her shoulder with a heavy yet surprisingly gentle hand. He grates at her with a smile and one of their old jokes--- "Hey Cez. Five sov'reigns, just tell me whose face to break. Ten sov'reigns if ye want me to just filch the book, eh?"
He then bows over a fist on his shoulder towards Brother Thalos and says while pushing one of the plates towards him. "May the gods smile on you and yours, Father. 'Ere, 'elp yerself. Wot seems ta be the trouble, yer holiness?"
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
The elf has been resting until now, hands wrapped around a cup of mulled wine. Prompted by Kholzug's return, he opens his eyes and moves over, one hand inviting the brother to sit down.
"Sit down, Brother, and dine with us. We'll gladly hear the details. Don't worry about the mess. Kholzug may have a tendency to provoke brawl, but he's even better at keeping it away from friends."
Turning to address the half-ofc, Farin continues half-jokingly: "Which brings me to the point, I like this place. Can't you handle a drunken old man without destroying an inn? It'll take days..."
His tirade is interrupted as the elf saves his drink from being spoiled. Farin catches mid-air what turns out to be a chicken bone, catapulted from the other side of the inn by some brawler's table throw. With a look of disgust, he throws it into a refuse bucket a couple tables away.
"It'll take days to clean this up."
Hommlet, huh. I had no idea I was this close. I suppose my aimless travel was not as aimless as I thought.
Last edited by Anderkent : 11-22-2012 at 02:30 PM.
The keeper glances angrily between Kholzug and the other patron as the fight breaks out, clearly contemplating retributive measures, but as Kholzug tosses the pouch of coin on the bar, he apparently decides to focus on the others instead. Pulling a crossbow from beneath the bar, he winds it back with a decisive click and levels it in the general direction of anyone still brawling. "Right, that's it. All o' ye, outside, now. Ye can come back in an hour or two when ye've cooled off." Five patrons shuffle outside guiltily, the two of them who refuse to be separated being dragged off by the others to continue their dispute in the street. Grumbling as he puts the flatbow away, he glares half-heartedly at Kholzug. "And that's enough o' that, aye? Ye start any more fights, ye'll not get off so easy."
Taking a seat with a practiced obliviousness to the scene around him, Thalos accepts a plate gratefully. "Thank you, your hospitality is most welcome. Hommlet is roughly ten leagues from here on the southern road; the terrain is mostly plains and scrub, and the road is well-enough maintained. It is supposed to be patrolled, as well, but of course that can't account for every danger. Master Gundigoot has promised the coin on successful delivery; we have the oxcart he sent loaded at the monastery, so you should be able to set off first thing in the morning if you wish."
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Thanks to Arokh for the avatar.
Cecily sits in a tiny bubble of peace. Brawlers, no matter how drunk or disorderly, wouldn't risk upsetting an obvious wizard on the off-chance that he or she was vindictive. Naturally, Cecily would never use her magic for revenge against common drunks, but there were precious few other perks to being a wizard so she enjoyed the peace and quiet it afforded her. If any of the drunken patrons get close enough, then she politely reminds them to keep their distance with a small spurt of acid aimed at the floor or a cup. Sure, destroying things was bad, but hurting people was worse so it was a small price to pay.
The wizard looks up at Kholzug, smiles, then shakes her head. She doesn't take more than a biscuit from the pile of food thrown at her, and drinks plain water rather than alcohol. She'd never drank alcohol, but her reasoning behind it was rather sound: It'd ruin her ability to cast spells. Nonetheless, Cecily does respond to Kholzug's joke with one of her own. "Five sovereigns just to beat someone up? Sir, you might be getting old if it takes that much coin to make you want to hurt somebody."
The wizard finally sits upright, and stops sulking. Just in time too, as the innkeeper ends all the fighting. Cecily looks toward the monk just as Lunch leaps off Kholzug's shoulder and starts eating whatever Cecily hadn't touched. The wizard nods her head toward Brother Thalos. "Good evening, Sir. Cecily Cielani", the wizard extends a hand toward the good brother, "at your service." She looks toward Farin and Tirondus, then shrugs. "So, what are we doing?"
If circumstances are explained, then Cecily just nods. "Well, if I'm going to continue onward then I'll certainly need the coin. Is Hommlet a place with a lot of work opportunities?"
Spoiler
Cecily makes a Know(History) and Know(Local) check concerning Hommlet. She takes 10 and gets 17 on both.
"We've got a job, apparently." - Farin answers Cecily's question, and recapitulates the offer - "One-time thing, if I understand it correctly, but it's not far away - even if we don't find anything there and come back, the pay is decent for a five days trip."
"Well, I don't have anything better to do, and could use some cash. I'm in, if you decide to go. Tomorrow's fine." - the elf grabs a food plate, waiting for others to confirm the decision.
Last edited by Anderkent : 11-22-2012 at 04:58 PM.
"Sorreh!" Kholzug calls out to the keeper. "Twenny guilders be more'n 'nough coverage fer the lot, and the change from earlier?"
"Tsk, mamzel." Kholzug snorts around a snarfing mouthful of food. "Purty shore moralsh ---schmunch--- be puttin' a cremp on merc work. Or, lesh flow'ry, less call't a friendly discount, hrhmm?"
The halforc grins reekingly full in Farin's face. "Ye think this is bad? Hah! Back in the day..."
While shoveling in another chunk of meat and onions, he pushes one of the tankards towards her. He may be savage, but he's not stupid not to have picked up on the quirks and preferences of his companion of... a dozen rides and twice that in moon-turns? He washes down his mouthful with a belching guzzle, then says, "Here's a riddle fer ye--- Woss sometimes black or green, yellah or naught / Leafy lot in cuppa watah dass hot / Breath nor brain't brings no rot?"
The scarred warrior nods at the others, pointing with his jutting jaw at another of the vessels. "'Snutha, well, 'alf a them's tea, y'all. 'Pparently, wild mushrooms and wild fowl fetch some good drink-leaf hereabouts. Take wossev's takin'."
"Aye, aye, all's good wirrat, padre" he says, agreeing with the priest's offer, continuing to wolf down some good damned dinner while trying to recall what he could of Hommlet.
Spoiler
Following suit with... HUH. I forgot to tack down some Know: Local?
Oh well.
Know: Geography, then. (1d20+3)[8]
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
For a second Tironius's eyebrow rises the slightest amount at the word 'riddle', but it quickly subsides. It is true making sense of difficult sentences was part of his work, but sometimes the reason for the difficulty also meant there was little value gained in deciphering this riddle inside a riddle. "Leaving tomorrow sounds good, when we're all rested and sober. Your wine will be delivered safe and untouched." He spins the copper coin over his knuckles without paying it much attention. "This merchant you mentioned, did he disappear between Hommlet and your monastery or at some other place?"
__________________
Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
"I'm not sure about what work might be found there, sister, but it is a prosperous town. I'm sure you could find something to do." Thalos shrugs amiably, clearly enjoying the keeper's cooking. "As to the merchant, well, that I can't say. It's certainly possible; if you happen to find where he ended up, I'm sure there are some who'd appreciate knowing. That said, don't put too much mind to it. Keeping yourselves and your goods safe comes first."
"Come by the monastery in the morning, and we'll have everything packed and ready for you."
Cecily:
Spoiler
Hommlet is a prosperous town indeed, despite its size, due partly to its location on a well-travelled crossroads and partly to the fertile farmland in the area. Its history with the fiendish temple nearby - twice assaulted, once twenty-two years ago by two armies, again thirteen years ago by groups of adventurers, and now mostly destroyed - means the locals tend toward some caution when dealing with outsiders, but one can hardly blame them. It is ruled by a pair of former adventurers, Rufus and Burne, who were granted control of the town and its surroundings by the viscount of Verbobonc for their services in dealing with the temple's inhabitants.
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Thanks to Arokh for the avatar.
Cecily nods at Kholzug's riddle, then takes her tankard of tea. She sips at it slowly as Thalos goes on about the place. She recalled some facts about Hommlet, and certainly didn't like what she was remembering. It would be tiresome to deal with merchants and farmers all day. After all, the most they could call upon adventurers for would be bandits, giant spiders, or other mundane threats that were better dealt with by the town militia--or the Baron's armies.
The wizard parrots what she knows to the others, and adds a bit more. "It seems like there aren't going to be a lot of opportunities there. Between the adventurer leaders, and its place as a trading center and important farmland, we might not find a job that isn't just menial labor. After we deliver the stuff it might be best if we head elsewhere."
The cleric finishes his drink and stands up, gathering his equipment.
"Very well, seems we are in agreement. I shall take my leave now to replenish supplies. Be well."
Unless anyone stops him, Farin exits the inn. He leaves the heavy equipment in the bedroom, taking only the chain under his cloak and his long sword. He's looking to purchase minor supplies - particularly linen strands for bow strings (though he will buy pre-made strings if he cannot find good linen), a new bow arm guard, perhaps replacing any worn-out clothing. No matter how successful he is, he'll come back to the inn before too long - two, three hours at most.
The halforc shrugs and says, "Eh? A job's a job, coin's coin, 'elp's 'elp"
Kholzug slurps off the rest of the meal and leans back, stretching and yawning. Picking some stray morsels from his wiry beard with a fork's tines, he then shoulders his trusty axe and makes towards the rented room upstairs, but stops a few steps in. He says over his shoulder at Cecily, "Lessons tonight, or ye need yer sleep?"
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
The wizard just sighs when Kholzug mentions that a job is a job. "You know I'm not one for menial labor, Sir. At best I'll just end up sleeping in the inn all day. If I do that I'll get fat." When Kholzug asks about their reading lessons, Cecily nods happily. "Sure, we can work on your lessons."
Cecily doesn't have anything else to do, so she'll head to her room and try to teach Kholzug. Lunch certainly doesn't want to go to bed yet, so he heads out with Farin to go out into the city.
You pass a pleasant night at the Basil Vine, the upstairs rooms being at least somewhat removed from the new mess below, and come the morning find the cart waiting at the monastery as promised, loaded with neatly stacked crates. Thalos bids you farewell with a few last directions, and you are soon underway. The air is still today, dry and warm, and the yellowing grassland south of the city spreads to the south as far as the eye can see. As the day drags on and the miles slowly roll by, it seems that a night on the plains will not be so unpleasant; the weather, at least, is agreeable, and this close to the city, there is a sense of peace about the area.
Indeed, it is not until your second day on the road that you encounter anything out of the ordinary. Perhaps it is because he is nearer the ground than the two riders, or perhaps it is simply his contemplative nature at work, but Tironius is the only one to notice an odd trace by the side of the road. There is the faint mark of a cart turning off into the pathless long grass, yet no sign of a campsite nearby, nor any immediate evidence of the vehicle returning.
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Thanks to Arokh for the avatar.
Tironius knelt down, rolling a stray blade of grass between two of his fingers. "An unexpected crossroad... A cart leaving the road for no apparent reason. And few possibilities there are for making someone take through the unbeaten, overgrown grass instead of the usual path. I see no camp, and if the cart entered the road again it wasn't close to here." He stands up again with a fluid motion. "We should investigate."
Spoiler
can I tell in which direction the cart was travelling before leaving the road?
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
The group's spell-slinging friend just rests on top of the supply cart. Even after two years she'd never gotten the hang of riding, and horses still didn't agree with everything she wanted to do. And so Cecily opted out of riding, with the excuse that someone needed to guide the cart. Of course, she'd never openly admit that her horse scared her. Lunch remains near his master throughout the trip. The small black-and-white ferret alternated between riding on Cecily's shoulder, sleeping on top of one of the crates, and trying to open the crates looking for something to eat. Naturally Cecily did nothing to corral Lunch into obeying. She was notorious for doting on the little thing, and letting him be a tiny furry rebel was just another outlet for her love.
On the first night out of the city Cecily sleeps on top of the cart. Partially to avoid sleeping on the ground, and partially so that she would have the high ground in the event of an attack. Regardless, the fact that nothing happens the first night makes her preparations pointless. Naturally, if Kholzug asks then she happily continues their lessons concerning the barbarian's literacy.
---
When Tironius stops the group to investigate Cecily stops the cart and hops down. She investigates the nearby area, and regardless of what she finds she looks to Tironius and nods. "I agree. Lead the way."
Spoiler
Cecily attempts to Search for anything close to the tracks. (1d20+4)[6].
She'll throw on Mage Armor before we continue on, bringing her AC up to 16.
Farin has been walking beside the cart, and he takes this opportunity to get some food out of his backpack.
"I do not fancy leaving the cart here, nor pulling it off the road. There's no signs of battle that I can see - either the detour was voluntary, or the cart carer was overwhelmed immediately. In any case, doesn't seem like we need to rush in - how about we finish the delivery, and come back here without the cart tomorrow?"
Once done eating, he packs his backpack again and puts it back on the cart.
"It might be worth scouting around a bit. This seems much too subtle for an ambush, but we may as well be careful."
Spoiler
Farin looks around trying to spot traces of battle or anything suspicious:
Search (1d20+3)[10] Spot (1d20+8)[22]
The halforc snorts at Cecily's sigh and says "Ah, aye, I know, I know... The only drudges who like drudgery are those who was born into the dreggserry, or bluebloods lookin' ta get away from it all an' wantin' somethink simpler, eh?"
"Sorreh." Kholzug says with a frowning shrug. "Meant that we've got the what and the where and how. Be wantin' ta get on and get done 'smuch as ye do, hrmm."
He falls into step behind her, but despite his mask of joviality, he still eyes every shadow with suspicion and tenses momentarily at every passerby's twitch.
When they get there, though his slayer's hands far dwarf the books, parchments, quills and pencils that they use, he listens and follows as closely as he could. He knows that sinew, steel and spirit do not solve all problems and indeed, that the written word can open more doors than a well-placed ironshod kick.
Eventually, when she closes the session, he gives her his thanks and ambles off into the night. It is a but a few steps into the other room where he checks on his already packed rucksack, making sure everything is in order. For a while, he contemplates hunting out a cheap enough whore, but ruefully recalls that he no longer has any coin to his name and knows that the cheaper the pay, the sicker the lay.
If his hunt for a willing wench is unsuccessful ere the midnight bell, he returns to the room and sleeps it off.
He awakes with a startled snarl and nightmare-ridden panting sometime before dawn and talks with the stablehand as best he could, to pay for the horses' stabling with labour instead of coin. By the time the rest of the inn is abustle with the morning rush, Kholzug steams with sweat, his hair plastered to his face after a dunk in the horse trough. The stable he'd left clean as clean could make, with a good amount of firewood chopped and stacked at the side.
The party's horses, a white mare and a dappled one named Lightning and Thunder, he groomed, fed, watered and harnessed before washing off and heading in for breakfast.
Spoiler
I hope that wasn’t too much, chief? Feel free to reprimand and I’ll readily revise.
~~~
When they get on their ride and on the road, Kholzug alternates order positions between riding up in the vanguard and hanging back as rearguard--- the two most dangerous positons--- always keeping his eyes and ears peeled for anything hostile or out of the ordinary.
Though a groundpounder at heart, he recognizes the value of traveling mounted--- greater speed, greater height, greater power. Knowing Farin likely has the archery angle covered, he has his bow stowed and rides with shield and lance at the ready.
On the first night out, as is his wont, he prepares the meal for the group. The base is a batch of wayfarer’s bread and hard cheese with strips of dried meat which he’s moistened with some birds’ eggs he’d collected during their ride and heated up on his trusty pan. Cooking up for people other than himself is a certain pleasure he’d discovered only recently but something he enjoys immensely.
The open road being not as safe a place as an inn might be, Kholzug declines on the nightly tradition between him and the young mage, knowing she’d need her wits and her spells about her if there’s danger about. However the other two men might decide upon the division of the night watch, Kholzug takes the graveyard watch for himself. Having spent the earlier part of his youth in dark pits where the most common sources of light are an overseer’s lantern, a flash of a blade or the sickly glowing fungi known as Gut-Glow, the scarred warrior treasures the beauty of the seeing, feeling, smelling the dawn.
~~~
When they come upon the tracks, Kholzug rides up from the rear and thumps Tironious’ shoulder as he dismounts, saying, “Good eye, man”
Getting down into the dirt and in amongst the grass, the halforc hunter tries to sniff out any scent of blood or oil or liquor or fear-filth or death-filth. He tries as well to look for any ruts in the ground or bits of torn clothing amongst the tall grass.
Not quite turning from his crouch, he says to the others, “Cez, Far… both o’ youse got points there. We can’t leave this ‘ere carts and horses and cargo and crap. Some buggers might get up from behind us and gank the stuff while we’re off chasin’ ghosts. Thing there is--- whoever ‘twas, mightha been ambushed. Fields o’ tall grass be great um-boss-skid points, like. But, we do got ta get this stuff delivered first. Ain’t nuthin’ sayin’ “ACK! ELP ME! STRUGGLE HERE!” but call me a drow if that stuff don’t look suspicious”
Spoiler
Hrhmm. I’m not quite ready to risk catastrophic failure on a bad roll here. Taking 10, or if possible taking 20.
Cecily looks to Farin, then back to Kholzug as she speaks. "What if there are people who are hurt? Or worse, what if there are captives? Is the coin from these crates worth more than any lives lost because we couldn't be bothered to search?" The small girl places her fists on her hips as she looks at the two warriors with obvious displeasure. She wasn't one to walk away when the right thing could be done, and there was no reason for her to believe that the cart-driver was dead.
Cecily looks around the area once more, then gives her thoughts on the matter. "It would be easy for a group of ambushers to box in a single cart on the road by blocking his passage forward and back, then it'd be trivial to force a surrender by bowpoint. Given that there's no body or bones nearby, I believe that whomever rides that cart was taken captive. And I want to save him."
Lunch has finally been roused from his slumber on top of the cart, and scampers down from the relatively huge structure to Cecily's side. He sniffs around her, then darts up her pants leg and winds up on her shoulder. The bespectacled wizard reaches over and pets the little guy's head. "See, Lunch agrees."
Last edited by ZeroNumerous : 11-24-2012 at 06:41 PM.
The cart's trail is far from clear, but it does seem to have been heading south before turning off the road, and upon a closer look, it seems Kholzug could likely follow it a ways if desired. Farin spots a small rise some distance away in the general direction of the trail, almost invisible against the backdrop of waving grass, behind which something or someone could conceivably have been concealed.
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Thanks to Arokh for the avatar.
"A few minutes can be spared, neither our cargo nor our destination is fleeing before us. We can keep our archer on the top of the cart; the landscape is flat, he will have a good view of anyone approaching and an angle on what we encounter when following the trail." Tironius slightly adjusts the grip on his staff cut from the heartwood of a willow, both walking stick and deadly weapon. "I might also take a look on my own. I will not be seen."
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
"That is likely the best course of action. There is something in the fields in that direction, " - Farin points at the obscured shape - " but I cannot discern its character. Be careful."
Turning to Cecily, the elf explains himself.
"I understand your feelings, but there is hardly evidence of an ambush here. Most likely a travelling merchant meeting with someone they don't want to be associated with - a lover, perhaps, or a poacher. Even if this was a bandit attack, the cart owner is either already dead, or held captive for ransom - a day less or more will not risk his life."
Farin pauses for a moment, considering what he noticed in the grass.
"Though what Tironius might find in the grass I can't guess. It might be the cart, emptied of goods, but what's the point of hiding it? Or pulling it off the road, in the first place. May be it is a hideout, but one that close to the road would be quickly found by any patrol. I am growing more suspicious now."
"Perhaps we should hide the cart in the grass, for now. Should Tironious require our help, we will be ready, and if he comes back with nothing, it takes not that long to pull the cart back onto the road."
In the meantime, Farin strings his bow, lays out additional quivers on the cart, and puts full armor on. Should anyone hostile appear, he will be ready.
Last edited by Anderkent : 11-25-2012 at 02:32 PM.
Kholzug leads Tironius and Cecily along the cart's trail, which appears to turn sharply just before the rise to go around it. Just before the turn, however, a slight breeze stirs the dry air, and the faint smell of rot pervades your nostrils. Tironius creeps up the rise, hidden amidst rock and scrub, and through the concealing grass spots at last your quarry.
Tironius:
Spoiler
The scene that unfolds before you has more than a trace of the bizarre. A depression in the earth sits just past the rise, a perfect location for concealment, and within it sits a light horse-cart, smaller than the one you are accompanying. Two horses, mostly eaten, lie dead beside it, though it was pulled only by one, which fell still in the traces; a human corpse in similar state lies a short distance away. Three crates, broken open and spilling bottles all around, still sit in the cart, although it seems it could have held many more. And the diners at this grisly feast have not yet departed, nor do they appear eager to.
Two large feathered creatures bide within the hollow, one apparently asleep, the other holding a bottle awkwardly between its paws and splashing the liquid into its beak with a great lack of grace. Owlbears, as you recall, fierce creatures that are equal parts predator, scavenger, and anger. Under normal circumstances, at least; these ones appear to have been at least temporarily mellowed by what you suspect to be the consumption of a great deal of alcohol, judging by the bottles scattered around, some smashed and some merely emptied.
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Thanks to Arokh for the avatar.
Tironius gently glides through the high grass, the soft rustle caused by his movement not distinguishible from the one caused by the wind. When he reaches the rise in the ground his shape is briefly enveloped by flickering shadows and then disappears from view completely. Invisible to the normal eye, he studies the sight before him for a moment before returning to the others, making a small beckoning motion to Farin on their own cart, meeting out of earshot of the keeneared creatures.
"The cart is there, along with the corpses of their driver, horses and the slayers still alive. Two owlbears, one asleep, the other perusing the wine. If I go ahead I think I can take out the former, then we can take care of the other together."
Spoiler
With Invisible Fist and Cloak of Deception I can stay invisible for two turns. One to move up, the other to coup de grace the sleeping one. Has a decent chance of working and would make the resulting fight much easier.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
"Sound strategy. How far ahead do you want to be? I can cover you from any distance, but it would be difficult for me to sneak too close upon them. Perhaps if I were to leave my armor here we can get to the rise without drawing attention. It will take a couple minutes though.
Or we can wait on this side of the hill, and you can lure them to us. That will give me a couple free shots until they get to us, and you should outrun them without any problems."
Last edited by Anderkent : 11-25-2012 at 06:17 PM.
"When it comes to strategy, I read this once, and I consider it the truth: it is called The Rule of Three. 'Any plan which requires more than three different things to happen will never work in real life.
And since only a fool would attempt a plot that was as complicated as possible, the real limit is two.'
Let us not risk wasting this opportunity by letting you move too close. And let us not assume everything will work as planned. I might fail, or even on success the second owlbear might pin me down. It is best you move in to support me once I start the fight instead of laying an ambush elsewhere."
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Jeff the Green
I've never teared up on behalf of a character of mine before. Congratulations, TFO.
When Farin attempts to reason away his desire to leave, Cecily simply shakes her head. "That sounds like nothing more than an excuse to avoid doing what is right, even if it is inconvenient. You may do as you wish, but I will do what I can to help."
Cecily remains firm on this point, but the issue is settled when Tironus returns and explains what happened. Cecily seems a bit confused when he talks about owlbears, but doesn't mention anything yet.
Regardless, when Tironus brings up his strategy then she nods. She intones some arcane words of power, then touches the monk. "This will grant you some knowledge about fighting. Not that you need it, sir, but it may come in handy."
Cecily finally brings up the owlbears, and addresses her confusion from before. "Why would the owlbears drag the cart off the road? They're not much more intelligent than either owls or bears, so where would they get the idea to hide the evidence?"
Spoiler
Cecily takes 10 on Knowledge(Arcana) concerning Owlbears. She gets a 21. Are Owlbears smart enough to drag a cart off the road?
Last edited by ZeroNumerous : 11-25-2012 at 09:54 PM.
While the others deliberate, Kholzug creeps back down and leads the two heavyweight horses back to the cart, under, presumably, under the two casters' watch. There, he whispers harshly at them, "Arright, gels, it be uncertain ground there. Wouldn't want me ta snuff either o' ye if y'all break a leg onna usseen gully or hole, eh? Thunder, Lightning. Stay".
Lance and shield stowed, greataxe out and low, the halforc makes his way back to the others, crouching his bulk into the cover of the rise and the undergrowth. He nods and grates, "Miss, wi' respeck, wot me an' knifears 'ere meant was while we're seein' to them beasties, someone could gank us from behind. Ye never know. We don't not want to do woss right, but always pays to watch our backs."
The soot-coated chainmail neck-guard clinks ever so slightly as Kholzug gives a small shake of his head. "Nay. Why would leopards drag their kills up trees, hmm? Mebbe once we clear 'em, we might find some better clues there. As it is, holy boy's right... but I still agrees with youse that something just ain't right about here. But it's wot we got. I suggess 'e goes in first, deads the one, holds the other's attention while I charge in and finish 'em. You guys support... an' more importently, watch our backs."
The Cleaver crackles his knuckles around the axe-haft while beginning to creep through the undergrowth, angling in for a flanking position from which he could easily support Tironious once the latter engages and says, "If we got no problem, the show's yours, Tironious. Ghost 'em."
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Hey, you. Yes, you. Come on. SMILE.
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