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Battle for Kazragun
- Thread starter Silanon
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chapter 1
Silanon
Four Thousand Club
Only occasionally beating the giant wings, a black bird makes its way northwards. The sun behind its back is covered by grey clouds just like the rest of the sky; sharp raptor eyes look down onto the landscape far below. Burnt soil, chopped down forests, a few scattered ruins - a land marked by the reign of the orcs, only recently ended by the Order of the Flame marching through. Passing over graves and corpse pits, the bird follows the brown, muddy trail before finally, the swampy grounds of the north come into sight. Right before grasslands turn into tree-interspersed puddles, a few rolling hills make an appearance, the highest one carrying the weight of a tower's remains: Damos Lookout, named after the family that once owned the northernmost buildings of the kingdom. Their ruins are still to be found in the surrounding area - right where most of them are gathered together and the path ends, a few white and blue tents form a circle around two fireplaces. There is some bustle going on - shapes in different colors and states of shininess are moving as another group closes in from the south, bringing three horse carts with them, filled with bags and barrels. Their sudden activity interrupts the lovely melodies that filled the air just moments ago - different from those chanted further west, but equally meaningful. As the bird continues its travel, a couple of others join, flying up to the right where more of the ancient white cypresses are left untouched. For some of those down there, this moment marks an end to something - for the bird though, this is just the beginning of another journey. A few flaps let it turn leftwards, right in direction of where the land once more climbs out of the swamps before suddenly dropping into the ocean. Noone knows why it is headed there - there's nothing else to find than smoking chimneys, dark green sails and the noise of thousands preparing for battle - but since there is a reason for everything under the watching eyes of the Gods, his struggle won't be without purpose.
Location: Damos Lookout
Time: around midday
Weather: cloudy, no rain thus far
For the colossal creature standing in the shadows of an ancient-looking tree, this moment marks the end of pretty much everything. This is where the swamp, Veskassdak's familiar surrounding, ends, just like Daraness told him. The shaman also said something about good prey around this place previously to the green mammals passing through southwards. But now all he can see are a couple of birds flying up as they notice his presence, entering the cloudy skies. Noone seems to pick up on them, though - as it seems, those running around the small tents aren't as vigilant as any creature from the swamps would be. Maybe it's because of the green ones being driven back far westwards, or because of the carts that arrive just in this very moment. This is the closest place to the tribe's area to find mammals, and although shabby in comparison to the lizardmen's homes, Veskassdak can clearly make out that most of those running around are warriors of various mammal tribes.
For the branded singer and the young woman accompanying his chant, this is an end as well - an end to the attention they got just a moment ago, but more importantly an end to their waiting. Recruited by the Princes weeks ago further in the south, they made their way up to this point just like the woman nibbling on the left-overs of a chicken leg. Arriving early only meant hanging around longer though - while the orcs were driven back, there are still a few bands strolling around, waiting for the opportunity to cause havoc. Taking no chances, the dwarven whitebeard known as Kalib made you wait until at least this group arrived - hoping that there are enough new recruits in there to make it at least half a dozen inexperienced fighters travelling onwards. He now stands in the middle of the tent circle, right where he demonstrated a few simple blocking techniques since the sun climbed the sky. "Y'er always late, Bjarni. Two damn days, an' ya almost made three outta it."
For both the halfling and the human sitting on the second cart, this is also an end. Not like for the others travelling with you, since those will simply return to their dull homes in the south, but still an end of a rather troublesome journey; while neither crossbow nor sling were needed, your cart got stuck twice on the way, due to the miserable state of the road. After being trampled over by the orcs and a few days of rain, it really doesn't deserve its name anymore, and travelling through the wild might have been just as easy as following the trail of mud. "Someone's always gonna be late, y'know - tell da orcs that ya don't like how tha treated da roads, though, maybe da will be more careful next time tha feel like goin south." Bjarni, a rather young fellow, breaks his silence that overlay the whole group since yesterday morning, jumping into the mud and greeting his dwarven brother with a thundering handshake. "Brought ya da damn wine from da Raes, gotta keep ya here for a while longer. Few more coming yar way, but not before da allowance. Brought ya two more, though, just in case ya still want them to look for da orcs."
As the regular soldiers start to unload the goods from the carts in a well-practiced manner, there is not much to do - though a helping hand probably wouldn't be rejected, either. Both dwarves seem to have changed to their mothertongue, with Kalib pointing northwards and Bjarni shaking his head firmly. Two archers close to the fire seem to follow their discussion rather interested - the old man next to them closes his eyes instead, as if he'd concentrate on something unseeable. Shortly after, he opens them again, somehow alarmed as he turns eastwards.
Location: Damos Lookout
Time: around midday
Weather: cloudy, no rain thus far
For the colossal creature standing in the shadows of an ancient-looking tree, this moment marks the end of pretty much everything. This is where the swamp, Veskassdak's familiar surrounding, ends, just like Daraness told him. The shaman also said something about good prey around this place previously to the green mammals passing through southwards. But now all he can see are a couple of birds flying up as they notice his presence, entering the cloudy skies. Noone seems to pick up on them, though - as it seems, those running around the small tents aren't as vigilant as any creature from the swamps would be. Maybe it's because of the green ones being driven back far westwards, or because of the carts that arrive just in this very moment. This is the closest place to the tribe's area to find mammals, and although shabby in comparison to the lizardmen's homes, Veskassdak can clearly make out that most of those running around are warriors of various mammal tribes.
For the branded singer and the young woman accompanying his chant, this is an end as well - an end to the attention they got just a moment ago, but more importantly an end to their waiting. Recruited by the Princes weeks ago further in the south, they made their way up to this point just like the woman nibbling on the left-overs of a chicken leg. Arriving early only meant hanging around longer though - while the orcs were driven back, there are still a few bands strolling around, waiting for the opportunity to cause havoc. Taking no chances, the dwarven whitebeard known as Kalib made you wait until at least this group arrived - hoping that there are enough new recruits in there to make it at least half a dozen inexperienced fighters travelling onwards. He now stands in the middle of the tent circle, right where he demonstrated a few simple blocking techniques since the sun climbed the sky. "Y'er always late, Bjarni. Two damn days, an' ya almost made three outta it."
For both the halfling and the human sitting on the second cart, this is also an end. Not like for the others travelling with you, since those will simply return to their dull homes in the south, but still an end of a rather troublesome journey; while neither crossbow nor sling were needed, your cart got stuck twice on the way, due to the miserable state of the road. After being trampled over by the orcs and a few days of rain, it really doesn't deserve its name anymore, and travelling through the wild might have been just as easy as following the trail of mud. "Someone's always gonna be late, y'know - tell da orcs that ya don't like how tha treated da roads, though, maybe da will be more careful next time tha feel like goin south." Bjarni, a rather young fellow, breaks his silence that overlay the whole group since yesterday morning, jumping into the mud and greeting his dwarven brother with a thundering handshake. "Brought ya da damn wine from da Raes, gotta keep ya here for a while longer. Few more coming yar way, but not before da allowance. Brought ya two more, though, just in case ya still want them to look for da orcs."
As the regular soldiers start to unload the goods from the carts in a well-practiced manner, there is not much to do - though a helping hand probably wouldn't be rejected, either. Both dwarves seem to have changed to their mothertongue, with Kalib pointing northwards and Bjarni shaking his head firmly. Two archers close to the fire seem to follow their discussion rather interested - the old man next to them closes his eyes instead, as if he'd concentrate on something unseeable. Shortly after, he opens them again, somehow alarmed as he turns eastwards.
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Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
Veskassdak looked intently westward towards the mammal encampment. Short mammals and tall mammals roamed about securing the crates of things that the carts had brought. He watched as two of the fur-faced short mammals started babbling in an incomprehensible tongue and gesturing northward. Of the three taller mammals near them, the two with unnecessarily large bows seemed interested in what they were babbling about, but the old one suddenly turned in his direction. Almost as if the old mammal could smell Veskassdak. Which, considering the scent capabilities of most biped mammals, should be impossible.
He prepared himself for what he considered to be the normal mammalian greeting of his kind if the old one sounded an alarm of some kind. He hoped that they would not attack, but he would be ready in case they do.
He prepared himself for what he considered to be the normal mammalian greeting of his kind if the old one sounded an alarm of some kind. He hoped that they would not attack, but he would be ready in case they do.
Clockwork Syringe
The Night Blade
Baird had been traveling for a while the halfling who called himself Findil on what was left of the sorry excuse for the cart. The cart itself had taken a beating from the road, actually causing it to careen violently when it broke down. Unfortunately, this happened twice during their journey leading to some big delays. Nevertheless, they reached their destination in one piece, the cart on the other hand had seen better days. Hopping off the cart once they reached the ruins of Damos Lookout, Baird climbed off and walked over to the their two dwarven employers to figure out what exactly the nature of this job was. Reaching the two of them, Baird noticed that the two of them were speaking in their native tongue, so he decided to pay them the same respect and speak in dwarven. "Hail, couple questions for the two of you. First off, how many others are there in this group apart from my halfling comrade? Second, where are we going first exactly?"
@Silanon @Dicer @Orikanyo @Ritzy @Sherwood @Kiroshiven
@Silanon @Dicer @Orikanyo @Ritzy @Sherwood @Kiroshiven
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Ritzy
One Thousand Club
"Praise Arete." Aeon said, finishing his hymn, He spoke in in good humor to the human looking bard. "I thought my buttocks would fall off in the cart. I'm not used to traveling in such a fancy way." He slid down and offered his hand to the lady. Then he went over to the hubub of another human talking about....something...Dwarven perhaps? Aeon was never one for languages, no time to study as a slave. Aeon was just there to spread Arete's mercy, killing Orcs was a mere secondary to protecting the brave that fought. He shuddered to think what the incursion would do to the less fortunate if it were allowed to continue. He looked at the mercenaries assembled. The recruits were poorly trained and equipped, Not that he should judge. He was like them once. Then his "Uncle" taught him to use a sword. While he was hardly a master swordsmen, he knew which end was pointy. He stood behind his fellow human, hands across his belly in a peaceful gesture and simply waited. He would be called as Arete willed it.
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Sherwood
Luna's Concubine
Wren is quiet during the journey here, spending much of the time just looking out at the countryside as it passes by. The priest of Arete seems nice enough for a churchy fellow, even after she tells him that her own religious devotions (when made) go to another god. Then the cart is pulled up to a stop. Finally! Lets see what we have going on here. Not a big surprise, but Aeon holds his hand out to her to help her down from the cart. "Thank you." The humble priest is growing on her more and more every day. He may actually be a decent guy. I'll have to keep a close watch on him to make sure he is ok in our future battles with these orcs. "Riding on that cart has certainly flattened my bottom. Time to stretch my legs and look around."
Orikanyo
Do you hear it? The screams of Gacha salt?
Findil
The halfling appears to be the only one to actually have caught any sleep on the cart, his snoring was prevalent even with the others moving out from it. The halfling had inherited from his family, great grandfather mother's side, the uncanny ability to sleep almost anywhere. this strange skill helped him along this cart ride, making it easy enough to simply ride out the way. Of course, he liked talking with the others, the fancy looking human was nice, Bard? Baird? Bear? Buheard? well, whatever it was he was an alright guy. Sensing himself slowly pulling up from the realms of sleep he took a moment to manage himself up to his hindquarters and rub his eyes. "WHao... man.. good nap." the halfling yawned and began fixing himself up before hopping over the small railing of the cart.
the camp was, as expected, abit dull right now, but hey. Not every adventure begins with a big howtodo!
Some begin with a dragon burning down a city.
So this could be much worse.
"So, were here? i expected more Orcs." the halfling cracked his neck, making an audible cracking sound. "been practicing to long with rocks as bullets and trees as targets, starting to forget what an orc looks like. if their covered in sticks and have bark for skin, I got this hands down."
Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
Veskassdak watched as more of the mammals climbed out of the carts and realized these new mammals were not the same as the others already in the encampment. These were not the humble warriors which roamed about but some other kind of mammal. Perhaps even ones who could bend and wield unnatural forces to their command.
So far as he could tell, the old mammal had yet to sound an alarm, but it was still too soon to relax yet. He would wait longer to see if he needed to protect himself from or introduce himself to those in the camp.
So far as he could tell, the old mammal had yet to sound an alarm, but it was still too soon to relax yet. He would wait longer to see if he needed to protect himself from or introduce himself to those in the camp.
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Kiroshiven
Shadow Cursed
Fi seemed to be the last to get off this dreadful cart trip. The road had been ruthless and her companions were unusual company. Not to mention that she had maintained her human appearance the entire time. She wanted nothing more than to let her true self come out and perform some acrobatic tricks while singing. However, there were orcs abound and that left her no room to draw attention to herself. She even kept herself from singing any tune that came to mind while they were rolling along. However, now they were in camp and that meant it was safer. As she leaped off the cart she smiled before bouncing around barefoot through the mud. It felt good to get her feet dirty, even if just for a bit.
With her new found energy she started to wander off into the camp. There was no need for her to really stick around. She was a con artist first and foremost. And now she had countless new targets. If not for the fact that she found another bard playing a lute, she'd have gone off to lie her way into a free meal. As the other bard began to play, words in Sylvan began to roll of her tongue. She loved the Sylvan language and anytime she could sing in it, she'd prefer to do so. Singing the tales of he late king. It was a somber sound, but it held respect and she felt alive as her voice carried.
With her new found energy she started to wander off into the camp. There was no need for her to really stick around. She was a con artist first and foremost. And now she had countless new targets. If not for the fact that she found another bard playing a lute, she'd have gone off to lie her way into a free meal. As the other bard began to play, words in Sylvan began to roll of her tongue. She loved the Sylvan language and anytime she could sing in it, she'd prefer to do so. Singing the tales of he late king. It was a somber sound, but it held respect and she felt alive as her voice carried.
Silanon
Four Thousand Club
Before Baird speaks, he manages to grasp a few words already - Bjarni swearing about dwarven perseverance, with the older dwarf trying to calm him. "He knows his stuff, Bjarni, ya'll see. Tha orcs are gone, trust ma." Turning around to the interrupting human, he smiles. "Eager to prove yaself, hm? Y'all get something to do in a moment, just let ma make sure we have enough together." He then vanishes in-between the soldiers, shouting out different instructions wherever he sees need - leaving you alone with Bjarni. "Y'know, tha mage felt something out in tha swamps, and now it's gone. Stupid idea to look for it, but da stubborn doter wan't listen to ma. Ya speak a good dwarven, though - where did ya learn that?"
As Veskassdak musters the camp, and the old man in particular, one of the archers seems to notice him as well. Before he can act, however, the man raises his hand, slowly standing up himself. From the distance, Veskassdak can see him grab for something around his neck, then looking in the lizardman's direction and pointing at him. Although he is still quite far away, a whispering voice appears in the lizardman's ear, just as if he'd stand right next to the strange mammal. "Come over. I do not know the ways of your kind - but I'm eager to learn about your travels." He speaks slowly, as if not sure whether he should even hope for the warrior's kind to understand the common tongue.
When both Wren and Aeon climb off the cart and take a step back, the former slave earns a few interested looks - but soon enough, the soldiers focus on their tasks, letting you take a first look at both camp and ruins. From what both of you have seen before, this place probably was quite unimpressive even before it burnt down. Both the master's house and your family's homestead, respectively, probably would have had enough space to fit everything in. Now, it looks even more desolate. Before you can do anything, the elderly dwarf appears right next to you. "Make yaself comfortable - I'll give ya something to do in a moment." He points in direction of one of the fires, where an old man seems to mumble something to himself while staring into the wilderness.
As Findil cracks his neck, a huge-grown man musters him from top to toes. "You're still a few days off if you're lucky - haven't seen one here in a week." He shoulders the bag you slept on without effort, then turns around once again. "Better use that speer, though - don't think you'll do much by throwing stones at them." The man himself carries a heavy-looking axe with him, as if he'd be ready to cut down trees - there are ornaments on there, showing leaves and flowers.
It takes only a few lines before the bard stops his play for a short moment, looking up from his fingers. A smile reaches his lips as he indicates a bow: "I'm blessed to find a related soul between swamps and mud. And you are blessed to have learnt more than just a few phases of the language of the fey." His pronunciation is a bit off, but it might be as good as a human will ever get. He then continues his performance, increasing the pace as the music starts to flow. Soon enough, a few of those around pause in their doings, until Kalibs shattering voice breaks the magic. "Y'all wan't gonna beat da Big One if ya just stand here an' stare." The lutenist continues his play, though, not allowing there to be a single moment of silence.
As Veskassdak musters the camp, and the old man in particular, one of the archers seems to notice him as well. Before he can act, however, the man raises his hand, slowly standing up himself. From the distance, Veskassdak can see him grab for something around his neck, then looking in the lizardman's direction and pointing at him. Although he is still quite far away, a whispering voice appears in the lizardman's ear, just as if he'd stand right next to the strange mammal. "Come over. I do not know the ways of your kind - but I'm eager to learn about your travels." He speaks slowly, as if not sure whether he should even hope for the warrior's kind to understand the common tongue.
When both Wren and Aeon climb off the cart and take a step back, the former slave earns a few interested looks - but soon enough, the soldiers focus on their tasks, letting you take a first look at both camp and ruins. From what both of you have seen before, this place probably was quite unimpressive even before it burnt down. Both the master's house and your family's homestead, respectively, probably would have had enough space to fit everything in. Now, it looks even more desolate. Before you can do anything, the elderly dwarf appears right next to you. "Make yaself comfortable - I'll give ya something to do in a moment." He points in direction of one of the fires, where an old man seems to mumble something to himself while staring into the wilderness.
As Findil cracks his neck, a huge-grown man musters him from top to toes. "You're still a few days off if you're lucky - haven't seen one here in a week." He shoulders the bag you slept on without effort, then turns around once again. "Better use that speer, though - don't think you'll do much by throwing stones at them." The man himself carries a heavy-looking axe with him, as if he'd be ready to cut down trees - there are ornaments on there, showing leaves and flowers.
It takes only a few lines before the bard stops his play for a short moment, looking up from his fingers. A smile reaches his lips as he indicates a bow: "I'm blessed to find a related soul between swamps and mud. And you are blessed to have learnt more than just a few phases of the language of the fey." His pronunciation is a bit off, but it might be as good as a human will ever get. He then continues his performance, increasing the pace as the music starts to flow. Soon enough, a few of those around pause in their doings, until Kalibs shattering voice breaks the magic. "Y'all wan't gonna beat da Big One if ya just stand here an' stare." The lutenist continues his play, though, not allowing there to be a single moment of silence.
Clockwork Syringe
The Night Blade
@Silanon @Orikanyo
"I learned it from my studies and from many failed attempts at conversing" Baird chuckled. "I was not always as good as I was, even so, Dwarven is not the only language I can speak; I can speak a few others as fluently as I can yours. Although you just mentioned something about your mage sensing something in the swamps I believe? I'm with you on that we should check it out, but our elder friend is right in not rushing in, still I think our natural curiosity will be fulfilled shortly. Do you know offhand how many there are on this job apart from myself and my halfling compatriot by any chance?" Baird was surprised at how relaxed at how knowing dwarven was a barrier breaker between races. Perhaps his other tongues would come in handy if he ran into someone who spoke them, be it the original speakers or not.
"I learned it from my studies and from many failed attempts at conversing" Baird chuckled. "I was not always as good as I was, even so, Dwarven is not the only language I can speak; I can speak a few others as fluently as I can yours. Although you just mentioned something about your mage sensing something in the swamps I believe? I'm with you on that we should check it out, but our elder friend is right in not rushing in, still I think our natural curiosity will be fulfilled shortly. Do you know offhand how many there are on this job apart from myself and my halfling compatriot by any chance?" Baird was surprised at how relaxed at how knowing dwarven was a barrier breaker between races. Perhaps his other tongues would come in handy if he ran into someone who spoke them, be it the original speakers or not.
Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
After seeing the old mammal grab at an object near his neck and seeing him point directly at him, Veskassdak expected some kind of assault. He did not expect to hear, "Come over. I do not know the ways of your kind - but I'm eager to learn about your travels."
Having recently learned their tongue, Veskassdak understood what was spoken. Also, he knew that the old mammal was one of those who could bend the unnatural forces to send the message to him. Knowing this he stepped out from his concealed position near the ancient tree and slowly approached the camp. He rested his club on his shoulder, ready to swing if the need arose.
Moving close enough to where he felt he could speak without needing to shout, he spoke.
"Mammal. Me isss Veskassdak. No you hurt I. War no bringing. Fighting join me. Sssinging isss nissse. Me help mammalsss war green mammalsss."
Having recently learned their tongue, Veskassdak understood what was spoken. Also, he knew that the old mammal was one of those who could bend the unnatural forces to send the message to him. Knowing this he stepped out from his concealed position near the ancient tree and slowly approached the camp. He rested his club on his shoulder, ready to swing if the need arose.
Moving close enough to where he felt he could speak without needing to shout, he spoke.
"Mammal. Me isss Veskassdak. No you hurt I. War no bringing. Fighting join me. Sssinging isss nissse. Me help mammalsss war green mammalsss."
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Ritzy
One Thousand Club
"Do you have wounded?" Aeon asked the Dwarf before he went away. "I am a healer and can tend to them if need be." He looked at Wren. "Now this is a sight huh? My old Master, may he rot in the 7th Hell, would have a fit to see anyone attached to his household here. Makes the trip that much more worth it." He said with a sly smile. His mark streched as he smiled and though the mark still marred what would otherwise be a handsome face, his smile shone like the sun. Either a man who saw the good in all situations, or a very naive one.
If there were wounded, Aeon would tend to them, all the while talking about the mercy of Arete. Some old stories of Paladins that braved untold danger at her behest and returned unharmed, of Clerics of great might who's names still adorn the Great Temple to the south. The stories his Real Master taught him. If there were none to be healed, he would do the same storytelling, but while teaching the recruits pointers on swordplay. The basics of using a sword and shield, how to parry, when to use your armor to your advantage, that sort of thing. His current equipment was well worn, but well taken care of. The mark of a man who either knew what he was doing, or was at least trained in some combat.
If there were wounded, Aeon would tend to them, all the while talking about the mercy of Arete. Some old stories of Paladins that braved untold danger at her behest and returned unharmed, of Clerics of great might who's names still adorn the Great Temple to the south. The stories his Real Master taught him. If there were none to be healed, he would do the same storytelling, but while teaching the recruits pointers on swordplay. The basics of using a sword and shield, how to parry, when to use your armor to your advantage, that sort of thing. His current equipment was well worn, but well taken care of. The mark of a man who either knew what he was doing, or was at least trained in some combat.
Orikanyo
Do you hear it? The screams of Gacha salt?
@Silanon
"Hah! lucky, look who your talking to bud, We short folk are all luck." he laughed for a moment before he went about insulting his favored weapon. "That true eh? What'd you say if I tell yea I could knock a man senseless at 50 feet with this thing." the halfling smirked, his hands pulling the sling taught like a rope as if to showcase it. "Not I know it ain't a fancy weapon, but it doesn't need to be big and metal to kill. Yea don't toss rocks if your looking to break some heads." he drew out a small bullet, a round steel ball. "Rocks can still do some heavy damage, but there's no telling their weight and how tough they are. But these bad boys are made to hurt. not to mention a sling makes good damn use of your strength. And might I say i am pretty hefty myself." he stroked his chin, a grin appearing on his small face.
"Course, your a mountain ain't yea? bet you've seen your fair share of orc guts and rolling goblin heads. take up a sling yourself, wont regret. so long as you can hit your target of course." the little man shrugged and walked off to join the others, walking past Wren. ( @Sherwood ) "I don't know about that love, it looks fine and round by my angle." his snickering was hardly hidden.
"Hah! lucky, look who your talking to bud, We short folk are all luck." he laughed for a moment before he went about insulting his favored weapon. "That true eh? What'd you say if I tell yea I could knock a man senseless at 50 feet with this thing." the halfling smirked, his hands pulling the sling taught like a rope as if to showcase it. "Not I know it ain't a fancy weapon, but it doesn't need to be big and metal to kill. Yea don't toss rocks if your looking to break some heads." he drew out a small bullet, a round steel ball. "Rocks can still do some heavy damage, but there's no telling their weight and how tough they are. But these bad boys are made to hurt. not to mention a sling makes good damn use of your strength. And might I say i am pretty hefty myself." he stroked his chin, a grin appearing on his small face.
"Course, your a mountain ain't yea? bet you've seen your fair share of orc guts and rolling goblin heads. take up a sling yourself, wont regret. so long as you can hit your target of course." the little man shrugged and walked off to join the others, walking past Wren. ( @Sherwood ) "I don't know about that love, it looks fine and round by my angle." his snickering was hardly hidden.
Sherwood
Luna's Concubine
Wren shoots a glare at the man walking past her, but says nothing. It's one thing to pretend to be a highly skilled adventurer, it's entirely another to actually be out on the field as a real adventurer. So, while in her mind she would have the perfect retort ready to fly, now, not so much. Oh, well. The glare will have to do.
She starts to wander into the camp to look around when out of the swamp comes a lizard man! Her hands immediately go to her swords, but when it starts to speak, it doesn't appear to be a threat so she starts to relax. "I guess that these orcs have made enemies all over. Uh, welcome to the camp."
She starts to wander into the camp to look around when out of the swamp comes a lizard man! Her hands immediately go to her swords, but when it starts to speak, it doesn't appear to be a threat so she starts to relax. "I guess that these orcs have made enemies all over. Uh, welcome to the camp."
Silanon
Four Thousand Club
As the lizardman closes in to the camp, more become wary of his presence. Wren is not the only one reaching for her weapon, but first to scrap that thought. Others around her don't seem to trust the creature, mostly because of the giant club he carries with him, ready to smash skulls. As she welcomes the one apparently named Veskassdak, a wrinkly hand covered by age marks reaches out for her arm as the old man steps up to the others. "Thank you for welcoming our guest, young lady. Too many will only ever understand a fraction of what keeps this world together, just because they never care to listen to those knowing about the other parts." Seeing the mage's reaction, most others follow the rogue's example, although a few hands still rest on the hilts of their swords, just in case. "As I take it, you came here to fight the orcs - this is, in fact, what we are all here for. Although it might not look like it right now, the Army of the third Prince has always been welcoming those sharing their goals - no matter where they came from. I am sure Kalib will happily let you join the ranks once he's ready with whatever he does - we're lacking skilled soldiers, and club wielders in particular."
The dwarf shakes his head. "Nah. Ya got that wrong, think it's stupid to look far something the mage can feel even from here - think ya should just take the usual road to the main camp. But doesn't matter what I think, ya know, I'm just da man getting all da new ones and supplies up here. I'd say Kalib wan't send out less than half a dozen." Noticing the action on the eastern side of the camp, Bjarni takes a quick look, before nodding in that direction. "Anyway, I'll betta find him - seems like we got a guest by da looks of it." He hurries off to the carts, leaving Baird behind as he looks for the leader. One of the archers by the fire ponts over his shoulder, northwards. "No point in going there. Even if something of interest was out there, the orcs wouldn't have left it behind."
As the halfling describes the use of a sling, he clearly can see that the giant man would rather die a stupid death riddled with arrows rather than trusting in something that looks as primitive as the showcased weapon. Well, his fault. You can't possibly miss the activity around the lizardman and the mage - as you move closer, the both dwarves in the camp run past you, clearly hurrying to join the happenings there.
As the cleric asks for wounded, the dwarf simply points at one of the smaller tents before hurrying off - in there, you find a rather young-looking fellow, a painful expression in his face even though he seems to sleep. Someone has tried to take care of the deep lesion on his shoulder, though Aeon can see that it was noone particularly skilled in treating wounds. Clearly, his teacher told him how to do things better than that. As he changes the blood-sodden bandage and replace it with a fresh, wider one to not pinch off his arm like the previous one did, the boy seems to calm down a bit. Even though he doesn't awake, it seems like both the replacing of the bandage and the calming stories of Arete brought the young soldier a few hours of peace. Apart from his wound, he seems to be fine, so there is not much else to do - a short look at the things around reveals dagger and bracelet with a heraldic emblem - might just be another aristocrat playing war.
The dwarf shakes his head. "Nah. Ya got that wrong, think it's stupid to look far something the mage can feel even from here - think ya should just take the usual road to the main camp. But doesn't matter what I think, ya know, I'm just da man getting all da new ones and supplies up here. I'd say Kalib wan't send out less than half a dozen." Noticing the action on the eastern side of the camp, Bjarni takes a quick look, before nodding in that direction. "Anyway, I'll betta find him - seems like we got a guest by da looks of it." He hurries off to the carts, leaving Baird behind as he looks for the leader. One of the archers by the fire ponts over his shoulder, northwards. "No point in going there. Even if something of interest was out there, the orcs wouldn't have left it behind."
As the halfling describes the use of a sling, he clearly can see that the giant man would rather die a stupid death riddled with arrows rather than trusting in something that looks as primitive as the showcased weapon. Well, his fault. You can't possibly miss the activity around the lizardman and the mage - as you move closer, the both dwarves in the camp run past you, clearly hurrying to join the happenings there.
As the cleric asks for wounded, the dwarf simply points at one of the smaller tents before hurrying off - in there, you find a rather young-looking fellow, a painful expression in his face even though he seems to sleep. Someone has tried to take care of the deep lesion on his shoulder, though Aeon can see that it was noone particularly skilled in treating wounds. Clearly, his teacher told him how to do things better than that. As he changes the blood-sodden bandage and replace it with a fresh, wider one to not pinch off his arm like the previous one did, the boy seems to calm down a bit. Even though he doesn't awake, it seems like both the replacing of the bandage and the calming stories of Arete brought the young soldier a few hours of peace. Apart from his wound, he seems to be fine, so there is not much else to do - a short look at the things around reveals dagger and bracelet with a heraldic emblem - might just be another aristocrat playing war.
Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
Although he could understand some of what the old mammal spoke, he really had no idea what a third prince was, but army was something he did understand. Veskassdak watched as the younger mammals reacted as he expected. Then they did something he did not expect. Starting with a female mammal, they relaxed their guard slightly. Seeing this, he moved his club down into a nonaggressive position to show that he was not going to attack them. He understood the female mammal welcomed him to the camp, but the others were still as wary as he was.
"Yesss, war green mammalsss, orcsss," He said in his raspy voice. "Green mammalsss, orcsss, wreck ssswamp. Do thingsss bad. Omensss sssay join mammalsss to war green mammalsss, orcsss. Help other mammalsss to dessstroy green mammalsss, orcsss before come back with more. Join mammalsss if mammalsss not war Veskassdak."
He waited to see if the mammals would attack anyway. He did not know what a kalib was, maybe a kind of leader, but he hoped that he had made them understand that he wanted to help them. He knew his grasp of the mammal tongue was very weak, but he hoped that if they allowed him to join them, then his understanding of their tongue would improve.
"Yesss, war green mammalsss, orcsss," He said in his raspy voice. "Green mammalsss, orcsss, wreck ssswamp. Do thingsss bad. Omensss sssay join mammalsss to war green mammalsss, orcsss. Help other mammalsss to dessstroy green mammalsss, orcsss before come back with more. Join mammalsss if mammalsss not war Veskassdak."
He waited to see if the mammals would attack anyway. He did not know what a kalib was, maybe a kind of leader, but he hoped that he had made them understand that he wanted to help them. He knew his grasp of the mammal tongue was very weak, but he hoped that if they allowed him to join them, then his understanding of their tongue would improve.
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Clockwork Syringe
The Night Blade
Seeing the dwarf walk off as he went to go find his compatriot, Baird looked around and saw two people, a cloaked female, and what looked to be a giant lizard of all things. They were probably going to be working with him, now or in the future so he decided that he'd go introduce himself to the two of them. At least it was the best course of action due to the dwarf advising him that investigating what the mage sensed was not a good idea currently. Walking over with his crossbow slung on his back, he spoke to the two of them, "Hello, seems we might be working together soon, name's Baird."
@Dicer @Sherwood
@Dicer @Sherwood
Sherwood
Luna's Concubine
She looks over at the man coming over to talk, but keeps her hood pulled forward out of habit. It's not like her father has people here hunting for her here. "Well met, Baird. I an Wren. Tell me, just how bad is the orc incursion, really? I've heard some wild tales, but they are rarely close to the truth."
Clockwork Syringe
The Night Blade
"Well Wren, it's nice to meet you," Baird began. "As for the Orc incursion and how bad it is, lets just say that although we've beaten them back significantly to their stronghold from what I've heard, the resulting costs have stretched our finances thin, both the kingdom's and the citizens'. I have felt the effects back in my hometown of finances being stretched thin as people have turned to common thievery to make ends meet. However, most simply just take it from your face in terms of "fees," "protection," etc. I had a run in with someone trying to extort me, but my "gifts" labeled me as a monster to him and he never bothered me again."
@Sherwood
@Sherwood
Ritzy
One Thousand Club
Aeon finished with the young man, sighing as he did so. Another noble trying to prove he was more than a title. There should be more like him in these dark times. He emerged from the tent and saw the lady he had been traveling with along with a few others. He managed to catch their names. He walked up to them, hands across his belly as normal. Peaceful looking, though the large sword and armor said otherwise. "Well met. I am Aeon. My official title within the Church is "Primate Second Order" however that's a bit of a mouthful. Besides, I'll never become more than that. My Church values order too much and I've never been one for order. I seek to do good, laws or not. Not that all rules are bad, but slavery was legal in my home city. One can imagine that I do not adore laws all that much." He winked at the others.
Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
Veskassdak saw more mammals approaching his direction. Some spoke so quickly he could not understand them. None of them seemed to be the leader, so he waited until the leader arrived before he spoke again. He did not want to unintentionally cause them to attack him because of a misunderstanding.
Clockwork Syringe
The Night Blade
Baird was in the midst of explaining his prior experience to Wren, however, he was cut off from explaining what exactly happened with the Thug when another human walked over. His name was Aeon and from the looks of things and how he spoke, he was a church warrior. "I agree, although I'd like to think that laws are more of a guideline to what you ought to do, in the occasion you take inspiration from them," Baird chuckled. "Name's Baird by the way," he also stopped short of saying anything else. He did not know which God/Goddess Aeon worshiped and if it was different from Desna, where his allegiances lay.
@Ritzy @Sherwood @Dicer
@Ritzy @Sherwood @Dicer
Silanon
Four Thousand Club
As most of you meet up, the two dwarves arrive as well - while Bjarni stays back, Kalib only pauses for a moment as the old man summarizes: "He is here to fight, Kalib - against the orcs, that is. And your company is well-known for welcoming those ready to fight, no matter who they are." "Ya don't have to tell ma what ma company is about, Corduf - I figured that out before I left ma home halls y'know. Y'all - get yaself moving, and get ma da new ones together here - da singer and da halfling, that is, the rest is standin' around useless anyway." He then continues to move forward to the lizardman, barely half as tall, but without hesitation. "Y'ar welcome, and just in time. See, I just was about to send da new ones to da orcs, might wanna join them, tha might need someone who knows da swamps." He offers his hand to the guest, covered by a shiny gauntlet made of good, dwarven steel, then points to the closest fire. "I'll tell ya more, just have a seat. Kalib's ma name."
As you all gather around the fire, Bjarni brings out a map, showing the northern regions - or what is known of them, at least. While the grasslands and the coastal lines are filled out with quite some detail, the swamps in-between are pretty much blank, apart from a few routes the Order's soldiers probably took. After everyone has taken a short look, he hands it over to Kalib, who then circles a rather large area, northwards of your position, but still quite far in the east compared to Kazragun - a big, black dot on the upper left corner. "Corduf thinks there has been something here, something different. Can't feel it anymore, but ya will take a look anyway, might be something left da tells us what it was. Da elves da lived here had a village somewhere tha, might be what y'ar looking far. Watch yar steps out tha, tho, da land is malicious, and tha are still orcs roaming around. Had one of ma scouts get wounded two days ago, barely made it back here. Good thing Corduf knows a bit about medicine, all the healers moved up to Kazragun to help da Order. Any questions?"
As you all gather around the fire, Bjarni brings out a map, showing the northern regions - or what is known of them, at least. While the grasslands and the coastal lines are filled out with quite some detail, the swamps in-between are pretty much blank, apart from a few routes the Order's soldiers probably took. After everyone has taken a short look, he hands it over to Kalib, who then circles a rather large area, northwards of your position, but still quite far in the east compared to Kazragun - a big, black dot on the upper left corner. "Corduf thinks there has been something here, something different. Can't feel it anymore, but ya will take a look anyway, might be something left da tells us what it was. Da elves da lived here had a village somewhere tha, might be what y'ar looking far. Watch yar steps out tha, tho, da land is malicious, and tha are still orcs roaming around. Had one of ma scouts get wounded two days ago, barely made it back here. Good thing Corduf knows a bit about medicine, all the healers moved up to Kazragun to help da Order. Any questions?"
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Dicer
Gamer since 1982. Live with it.
Veskassdak watched as a short furfaced mammal approached him. He could not understand what he said, but the tone did not have any aggressive note to it. He did realize that Kalib was the name of the short furfaced mammal and he was the camp leader. He accepted the offered steel covered hand and let himself be guided to the nearest firepit.
He watched as a map of the region was brought out and saw how everything around his home swamp was detailed, but the area where the swamp was lacked more than a couple of trail lines that he knew were only safe when the water was low.
He grabbed a piece of charcoal from the fire and said, "Map no right ssshow ssswamp. Fiksss me if allowsss furfaysssed mammal, Kalib. Ssshow trailsss sssafe and thingsss bad walk no in. No home ssshow. Isss sssacred. Trailsss," pointing to the trails on the map, "only low water good. Ssslick walking high water when. High water trailsss sssafe not. May Veskassdak draw map good?"
He looked at the camp leader waiting for a reply.
He watched as a map of the region was brought out and saw how everything around his home swamp was detailed, but the area where the swamp was lacked more than a couple of trail lines that he knew were only safe when the water was low.
He grabbed a piece of charcoal from the fire and said, "Map no right ssshow ssswamp. Fiksss me if allowsss furfaysssed mammal, Kalib. Ssshow trailsss sssafe and thingsss bad walk no in. No home ssshow. Isss sssacred. Trailsss," pointing to the trails on the map, "only low water good. Ssslick walking high water when. High water trailsss sssafe not. May Veskassdak draw map good?"
He looked at the camp leader waiting for a reply.
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Silanon
Four Thousand Club
Instead of the leader, it is the old man named Corduf who answers: "We know little about the swamps, apart from what we found out during the last few weeks - we were on good terms with the local elf tribes, and they preferred their trails to be unknown to strangers. Any help would be welcome, Veskassdak - knowledge is precious, and this information in particular could save lifes. In fact, if we would have known how to contact your tribe, we would have asked you weeks ago for your assistance."