Horatio@Bridge Presents Journey to Enlightenment [IC]

[Horatio@Bridge]

You pick through the battlefield like one slain, though the blood caking your body is not your own. All around you lie the bodies of your fallen comrades, and as you look from face to face you know that the cause to restore the rightful king is just as dead as they are; killed, as were they, by a mere handful of the Princes of the Earth. Just five Dragonblooded had turned the tide, drawn by promises of alliance by the pretender to the throne. Just five Dragonblooded had wreaked the havoc strewn all about you.

You hear a noise and turn towards it, weapons at the ready, then lower them as you recognize Arafel, your brother in arms.

"So you survived too," Arafel says mutely, eyes fixed on the bodies strewn around your feet. He looks up. "What now?"

"That depends," a third voice croaks, interrupting whatever reply you might have given him. You look over to see a raiton-headed man crouched on top of the bodies of the enemy soldiers nearby, beak picking at their eyes while his hands rifle through their pockets for valuables. "Do you have the courage to continue the fight?"

"What do you mean?" Arafel explodes. "The fight is over! We are broken, our army destroyed! And we are faced with Dragonblooded! What can we possibly do against that?"

"The Dragonblooded are not the only ones who wield essence," the raiton-headed man caws mysteriously. "If you were to Enlighten your essence, that would level the field, would it not?"

"You're crazy!" Arafel shouts. "Even if we could enlighten our essence, it would take years! Even then, we would only possess a portion of the might of the Dragonblooded!"

"True, true," the raitain head bobs in acknowledgement. "But it would give you a chance. Is that worth fighting for?"

"Pfah!" Arafel spits. "I'm done with fighting!" And with that, he turns and stalks away. For some reason, though, you remain, and the raiton-headed man turns toward you.

"Hmm...it seems that there is still some fight left in you, though," he muses. "Well, then, if you are willing to take the chance, I will tell you how this deed might be accomplished. Far in the East, beyond Kirighast in the Summer Mountains, there is a valley. This valley is filled with warm sunlight every day, and jewels lie among the grain. If you will go to this valley and drink from the spring at its head when the first rays of dawn touch the water, then you might find Enlightenment. I warn you though, the way is long and frought with danger. It is likely that not all of you who leave will arrive. Still, it is a chance."

With that, the Raiton Man morphs into a normal raiton in an explosion of feathers, caws once, and flies away.



Your characters are all within earshot, though you are not necessarily together. It is worth noting that Arafel is in the vicinity if you still wish to speak with him.

I'm running this as something of a prologue. The first scene is diceless and serves to establish your characters. It encompasses everything from the moment the Raiton man disappears to the point where you guys near the first bit of civilization you go to in order to get supplies, barring any unexpected curveballs you guys might throw me which would trigger an adventure earlier.

In any case, feel free to post as you like. You have limited editorial power to set the scene and move the plot forward, though please clear it with me before making any major changes such as introducing a new character or changing your geographical location too much (you're free to roam about the battlefield and the surrounding countryside, but moving to a populated area triggers possibilities for adventure and introduces a bunch of new characters).

[Trenchfoot]

--Graydon Oldstone--

A chance to… get past all this? A chance to be free of it? To see if life is worth a damn?

Yeah.

Yeah, I’ll fight for it, you bird-headed monstrosity.

A good distance away from the raitan-headed man, Graydon stands up with a grunt, shoving the heavy arm of a corpse off of his chest in the process. His body felt weighted down and dehydrated, every muscle felt exhausted. He fights against the blurriness in his vision and the big wads of fuzzy floating around in his brain. He touches his side… Pain. There’s an arrow there… maybe two. He bends at the waist, feeling the arrows dig around inside him, and touches the cold flesh of his leg. Something else is there... That’s awfully pleasant. What is that, a rock? A crystal?

A crystal. Yes, that’s right. The Terrestrials. Fire and Lightning and Crystal Shards flying all over the place.

I am bleeding.

Graydon looks out at the corpses around him, hacked and ruined bodies.

I should probably sit down.

Feeling the typical delirium that follows severe blood loss and shock, Graydon plops down on the plated torso of a former enemy, wordlessly apologizing to the dead man for the inconvenience. I shouldn’t have stood up, got that shard worked around there a bit more.

Graydon thought he saw other people moving around the battlefield, but they weren’t running or fighting. The battle was over, for all that it mattered, and he had stripped off his insignias and anything resembling a uniform. Drawing his medical supplies out of his pack, Graydon slowly begins to treat his own wounds, hands moving as they had a thousand times before. He doesn’t even grimace any more. Many humans shy away from dealing with their own wounds, but when you’ve held your own flesh closed to keep your organs from falling out, you lose some of the… discomfort with seeing your own insides.

With a quick yank, the shard is free. Not too big. Yup, that’s my calf-muscle twitchin around. Tendons there, none severed. Crystal pushed the veins aside when it entered, what a polite guest. How about that… it knocked that arrowhead tip out of the back of my tibia… Cummere you… With a small grunt, Graydon fishes inside his leg for the tiny piece of green jade and withdraws it. He pops the piece into his mouth to wash the blood off, and spits it into his palm. Yup, green jade. You’ve been hitching a ride under my skin for… 15 years? I think I’ll relocate you to my pocket now. Eviction notice and all that.

There wasn’t much Graydon could do about the hole in his calf. The flesh was too wide-open for a proper stitch, but it wasn’t so deep that the muscle wouldn’t heal. He was probably just going to die from infection in a week or so. Anyway, on to the arrows.

The arrows, thankfully, did not have true arrowheads. They were straight, pointed bits of wood, and had gone right through his chainmail. Probably shot by those horseman-archers that kept dancing around on the right flank. I’m sure they got away... wait, nope, big ol’ group of burned horses over there. Fire Caste got to ‘em. Nice job. With a quick jerk, the arrows come free with minimal bleeding. The tiny holes weren’t large enough to stay open, and as long as Graydon kept his stomach muscles from shifting around too much, he’d be fine.

Graydon drew out several thick glass bottles from his medical bag and popped one open, smelling it to see if it was still good. It was, and he began to spread the odd green concoction on his side and leg. As he does so, he wonders if the offer of the clearly magical being was made to another…

[lostlittlebear]

Pius throws off the last of the bodies covering him, and sits up, desperately gasping for air.

He sits quietly for a moment, taking in the scene around him.

Dear gods, I'm still alive.

"WHY DID YOU HAVE TO LET ME SURVIVE?"

With a feral scream, Pius clutches himself, curling into a fetal ball. Even now he knows that the death-screams of him soldiers will haunt him until his dying day. The soldiers who had trusted him, the soldiers who had hoped to stay alive, the soldiers that had believed in their cowardly leader, only to have had their lives thrown away in a suicide charge Pius had not expected to survive.

It is only the Raiton-headed man's sudden explosion that shocks him out of his near catatonic state. Seeing a grizzled old veteran treating his wounds by the side, Pius approaches him, voice croaking hoarsely from the screaming he had done.

"What in Sol's name was that man talking about?"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, his hand on the shaft of the final arrow in his side, looks up and squints against the sun at the newcomer, noting his well-crafted armor and bow. Keeping his eyes on the man, he slowly draws the arrow out of his side, a thin stream of blood connecting its tip to its former resting place between his ribs.

Without much warning, Graydon fires off an abrupt query of his own, completely ignoring the stranger's question.

What were ye screamin about over there? Ye got a problem with bein alive?

Maybe unnecessary, but if you're thinking about having Pius put up some resistance to Graydon, this is technically an attempted Social Surprise Attack. My Manipulation+Socialize versus your Perception+Investigation. The actual question is the beginning of Graydon's attempt to learn Pius' Motivation and Intimacies, and is a Perception+Investigation roll opposed by half your Manipulation + Socialize, should you choose to resist. Learning a motivation usually takes about 5 minutes, its an extended thing over the course of a debate. Graydon knows Pius also heard the Raitan-headed man's challenge, and Graydon wants to know what this 'other seeker' (Pius) is all about.

Social Surprise Roll:
Read Motivation: [roll1]

Well the Surprise attempt kinda sucked, so Pius isn't necessarily startled, but my attempt to glean his motivation might work out well.

Rollin Join Debate as normal.

[rollv]5d10

[lostlittlebear]

Relax, Pius is in no mood to resist. He approached you first anyway.

Shaking his head, Pius buries it in his hands.

"My men... I killed them all, and I didn't even have the decency to die with them."

[Trenchfoot]

Works for me. Using Low Realm by the way. My purpose for using a social attack was to determine Pius' motivation and intimacies right off the bat, mechanically. Luckily, it seems that he's giving them bit by bit already in an RP fashion. In the future, I start Social Combat with a specific goal in mind, and especially when I expect resistance from the NPC or character. All part of the plan.

The old soldier takes a hard look at the younger man after that statement, gauging his age and looking for scars. Scars are the irreversible sign of experience, of lessons learned. They are the permanent mark left on a man’s soul as well as his body.

This man appeared to have few. Hard to tell.

Trying to hide a smirk, Graydon asks the man another question.

Ye’ve never lost a battle 'afore, have ye?

He looks back down to his leg, returning to the task of cleaning the hole in his calf of grit and dust that had stuck to the flesh.

Death happens, aye? If yer wantin to join ‘em, find a sword to fall on… ‘With Decency’.

[lostlittlebear]

It's conceivable that Graydon's actually heard of Pius - his command's pretty (in)famous around the army, even though most veterans try and join it

Pius, hearing the mocking tone in Graydon's voice, spares him a withering glance.

"I might not look it, but I've been fighting with the army since the first day of the war. So yes, I've been on the losing side before."

Rising and gesturing at the scene around him, Pius continues, "But never on this scale."

"What about you though? What's your name and rank, soldier?"

[Trenchfoot]

Keeping his genuine smirk internal this time, Graydon silently congratulates himself. When a soldier is overcome by despair like this one seemed to be, the best thing was to distract him. Challenge him. Give him something else to think about while the sorrow and anguish wears off.

There's the spirit I'm lookin fer. Name's Graydon, stranger.

He pointedly ignores the question of rank however, going so far as to nudge the torn-off insignia of a Medical Officer from the supporters of Prince Kaliel with his boot. With the mound of corpses all around, it's impossible to tell who it came from, unless Graydon himself...

Fightin since this Rashoman Marwan debacle started up eh? Impressive. Who are you?

The comment of 'impressive' may have been sarcasm, maybe not. It's up to Pius how he interprets it. Graydon doesn't ask the other man's name and rank specifically, instead wanting to see how he answers the simple question of 'Who are you'?

[lostlittlebear]

Pius stares at Graydon, eyes widening with the shock of realization.

"You aren't Sepiran, are you? We don't call it the 'debacle' over here, we use much... stronger language when talking about it."

"Besides, if you were Sepiran you wouldn't be talking to me like that. I may not look it, but I'm a noble, and any Sepiran foot-soldier would know that by the crests on my armor."

Chuckling grimly, Pius walks toward the soldier.

"Don't worry. Any fool could see that the war is over. It's suicide fighting against the Exalted you lot have got there. The name's Pius Ignavo, and I believe I am your prisoner."

Taking his unit crest, he lays it at Graydon's feet in a token of surrender.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon begins to laugh, but stops short as the holes from the arrows send stinging signals of pain shooting into his gut. He simply clears his throat instead, and picks up the shard of crystal lying on the ground near him. The thing is about 5 inches in diameter and 8 inches long, and is certainly not a naturally occurring item. Holding it vertically, slow-moving rivulets of drying blood drain off of it and... maybe a few tiny chunks of muscle trapped in its cracks. There can be no doubt that this crystal was created as part of some sort of spell or charm... Graydon smiles and holds the shard down near his calf, angling it in the same way that it had entered his leg, going so far as to place it inside the hole. Doing so, Graydon looks up at the man, hoping his point gets across. He had been attacked by one of the Dragon-Blooded.

'My lot' consists of ME, and I 'have' no Exalted. Yer right, I ain't Seprian, I'm a foreign fighter. You 'sandbloods' don't call this war a debacle, but I sure do. An I'm glad yer noble blood an crests kept yer respectful little 'Seprian foot-soldiers' alive.

Graydon would stand if he could, but with his leg as it is, he can't. Instead, he sits up straighter, and stabs the bloody crystal into Pius' crest, pinning it to the ground. He stares at the unit crest for a moment, and a look of recognition passes over his face. He looks back up, and his next words are quietly serious.

I've heard of you, Pius Ignavo, and I refuse to accept your surrender.

Are you deciding that the arrows came from the Kaliel-supporting side? If so, I'd ask that you not. The arrows did not come explicitly from the Kaliels, in fact, the arrows in Graydon could've been from either side. Unless you're intent on seeing the arrows as such, or having Pius be incorrect. This is my fault, as I should've dictated as such in my first post. Also, 'sandbloods' is a term used for people from the deserts of the south, as you can imagine. You can decide how derogatory Pius wants to consider that word. As a noble, probably quite a bit, but Graydon is a little angry with Pius' recriminations.

[lostlittlebear]

OOC:Pius is just making the call based on what information Graydon's giving him, though if you want it a bit ambiguous now that's fine by me. Anyway he's assuming Graydon's on his side since the Dragon-blooded attacked him.

"Heh, you've heard of me eh? Can't be good things."

Sitting down, Pius laughs with relief.

"Sorry for the mix up, I didn't think our side hired foreign soldiers. For a moment there I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life in some godsforsaken prison."

"Anyway, what was that business with that crazy bird-man? Couldn't hear much from where I was."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon is silent as Pius sits, silently considering sliding over on the corpse and offering Pius a seat there. Thinking better of it, he slowly nods with the noble's words.

I'm fer thinkin that ye heard what ye were meant to hear from the damned shapeshifter. If ye 'couldn't hear much', then that is how it is supposed to be.

He shrugs, falls quiet as he takes a dollop of the odd salves and places it over a hole in his gut. Holding his breath, he pushes it into the hole, pressing a hand over it to ensure it slides inside. The process is rather gruesome to behold, but Graydon politely turns aside from Pius to spare him the sight of it.

But that's just what I think.

[lostlittlebear]

"What do you mean, meant to hear?"

Pius' curiosity is piqued by Graydon's reluctance.

"Don't give me that. If you've heard of me, you surely know how I like to fight. I'm not reckless and impetuous enough to act all crazy just because of some bird-man's words."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon closes his eyes and lowers his head, allowing the gauze to do its work.
To an outside observer, it might appear that he was meditating.

I meant precisely what I said. Whatever ye heard from that thing... That's all ye were meant to hear. No more, no less. It ain't my place to tell ye what I heard, fer his words to me were meant for me. His words fer you were meant fer you. If ye heard nothin, then ye weren't meant to hear anythin in the first place, aye?

He opens his right eye slightly toward Pius.

Ye unnerstand?

[lostlittlebear]

"You're not one of those crazies who believes in Fate and Destiny and all that, are you?"

"Personally I've never really held much stock in that. Standing still and hoping that fate decreed that arrows would pass you by seems as good a way as any to get killed."

Pius shrugs.

"Well, whatever."

"This war's over anyway. As long as the Realm has Exalted on it's side we can't fight back. I guess I'll just go off to some quiet village with a bottle and drink my demons away."

"What about you?"

[Trenchfoot]

I just believe that when someone yells ye somethin, they're tellin you. If they didn't tell nobody else, that means they didn't need to know. As fer me, I'm going to stand still an hope fer some arrows. Have a drink fer me, eye?

Graydon nods with finality, thinking that Pius meant to leave immediately.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius gets up, nods to Graydon and starts to head off the battlefield and for a new life.

OOC:
Cue meeting with other characters?

[Tyracus]

As Aranth crosses the desolation of the battlefield he hears the words of the Raiton headed man carried on the carrion-scented wind. Gesturing across the field at Deran he begins picking his way across the field, listening to a conversation carried on the same wind he approaches the two men, hailing Pius as he begins to leave.

Stay your retreat Pius Ignavo, I would have words with you before you left.

As Aranth clears the last ridge and the fallen bodies upon it he begins to speak as he finds a clear rock and sits.

You claim this war is hopeless and that your talents are no longer worth anything more than fodder for the tales of a worthless drunk. I think you underestimate yourself. Precious few of us survived the tempest that was the realm's entrance to this war. I intend to follow what I heard and seek the power of enlightenment that was offered. Perhaps you would care to join me. I know more men fled the field before the terrestrials worked into their full fury and much of the reserve forces stationed away from the field of battle had fled intact. I could lead them but my skills at command do no measure up to yours and I would much rather focus my talents where they lie at their fullest, in bringing low the enemies of Sepria with my blade. With that his hand falls to the yellow jade scabbard and blade upon his hip.

[lostlittlebear]

"I appreciate your confidence, but I doubt that any mortal commander could stand up against the Exalted, no matter how good the skill. Besides, I'm sure you know my reputation and all that."

"I've heard of you, Aranth. You'd be better off leading the men than some coward who only cares for his own survival. After all, you're probably the only one amongst us who could even nick an Exalted in close combat - what with your daiklave and all."

Pius blinks, remembering something strange in the man's words.

"What is this enlightenment thing you speak of? I couldn't make out a word of what that strange bird-man was saying."

[Trenchfoot]

"What is this enlightenment thing you speak of? I couldn't make out a word of what that strange bird-man was saying."

At these words, Graydon silently lifts his hand toward Pius, as if to say "And there you go.", following his earlier statements.

He keeps his eye on Aranth nonetheless, the first other man who had clearly heard the offer of the beast-man. He had never heard of him before, and consented to simply listen to his conversation with Pius.

[Justyn]

"He said that we could enlighten our essence and wield it like the Exalted." Kite chimed in, somewhat distantly. He was wandering around the battlefield, his eyes scanning around, looking for something. "That there was some place past some mountains and some place I've never heard of before, there was a valley with a spring, and if we drink from it, we might get enlightened."

After a moment, he seems to find what he was looking for, and darts off surprisingly fast for someone wearing armor.

[Tableface]

It feels like he's jarred his funny bone, dislocated his shoulder, and then had his entire arm fall asleep. And unfortunately he can still feel that sickly substance against his skin, can feel a horrid pressure around his heart. Dastardly urges beat against the inside of his skull, and it takes all he can to keep what little focus he has trained on the ground.

Thiall Gamses falls to his knees and dry-heaves, gasping and hacking loudly. The words of the Raiton-man are only half-heard, bits of sound and noise that periodically congeal into vague notions: power, drinking, revenge. He's failed. Worse than failed, run away and left others to die. Worse than using others to die, he'd used them to hide. He deserves this.

He remembers small bits after the fight. Small sorceries, the cold substance on his arm. The painful marks where sharpened nails were dragged across his chest. He heaves again.

Struggling to his feet, Thiall begins to approach the gathering group of other survivors, only half-knowing what it is he's going to do, only that he doesn't deserve the easy way out of this hell he can already feel his mind becoming. Stumbling into their midst, his uniform torn open to reveal bloody trails down his chest, his face a mess of body fluids and dirt, he raises his left hand and points off in the distance. The light gleams off the yellow-orange substance of the bracer on that arm. Briefly a thought enters his head of using that hand to crush the throat of the noisiest survivor present, but he pushes it away.

"To camp," he croaks weakly. "Supplies. Maybe it... they haven't bothered." He can focus on getting to know them all later. They need to move, in case others came to pick the field clean, and if he is going to die it will at least not be here, and not from despair.

He doesn't deserve that luxury.


Figure some sort of nearby army camp (now abandoned what with everyone being dead) would be a good way for everyone to retrieve their supplies, familiars, clothes, etc.

Edit: fixed tense errors

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon

Graydon smiles peacefully and reaches for a broken spear-haft to use as a crutch. With a grunt and a lift, he's up. He doesn't notice the newcomer's bracer, but he appreciates his idea.

Good call... he musters as he hobbles painfully toward in the direction of the encampent, his half-empty backpack slung over one shoulder.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius stands stock-still, Kite's words hitting him like a hammer-blow.

Dashing over next to the man, he grabs him excitedly by the shoulders.

"You mean... there's a way for us mortals to stand up to the Exalted?"

[Justyn]

Pius stands stock-still, Kite's words hitting him like a hammer-blow.

Dashing over next to the man, he grabs him excitedly by the shoulders.

"You mean... there's a way for us mortals to stand up to the Exalted?"

Kite was taken aback by someone suddenly grabbing him. "Well h-he said there was at least... an' even if he's wrong or lyin', it's worth a shot... Right?"

[lostlittlebear]

Pius throws his head back and laughs, an expression of pure joy and relief.

"That's probably the best news I've heard since the beginning of this godsdamned war."

"Come with me, friend. This war isn't over yet."

Beckoning to Kite, Pius strides resolutely towards the camp, to see what sort of order he can make out of this mess.

[Tableface]

Thiall hobbles along with the rest, swaying and dipping drunkenly as he tries to keep himself upright and conscious, while that damnable pressure in his chest throbs with each heartbeat. He blinks heavily, trying to determine if the difficulty he's having making out the others is the result of everything else or just because he's lost his glasses. As near as he can tell they're all in this mad little endeavor together, even if no one has officially declared it yet.

"Stay c-" he begins to rasp, but stops and instead clears his throat. "Stay close," he calls out to everyone, much clearer and louder, "need to- need to... watch out." Inside he berates himself for the notion--too little, too late.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon studies the wobbling man's motions, trying to discern the source of his pain. Concussion? Poison? What in the hell's got that one dancin around so badly? It looked as though his arm was out of socket, hanging uselessly by his side as it was, but that wasn't justification for the man's obvious distress.

If he needs help, he'll ask for it.

Graydon's leg wasn't firing off signals of pain any longer, and the ache in his gut had been reduced to a dull itch. He knew the hurt would come back later, but for now, he could function moderately. He could keep up with the clearly wounded man, and did so, walking by his side and crutching along at his pace without a word.

[Tableface]

The camp isn't too far away, just far enough to be concealed by the topography of the area, over a series of short hills and outcroppings. Either by design or dumb luck it has been situated out of the immediate path of the invading army, and has likely only been overlooked by the more pressing need to march deeper into Sepria or ignored as the invaders attempt to rout whatever existing forces may still be in the area.

The camp itself appears mostly empty at first glance. A few of the barrack tents have fallen or been knocked down, but most still remain. There's no sign of looters (though it would be early for that, and most things of value are spread across the battlefield anyway), and no evidence that anyone or anything else is currently present--something that might be all the more alarming.

"If you see anyone, yell to warn. That way we'll know to flee," Thiall says, only half-joking.

[lostlittlebear]

(OOC: I'm going to go out on a limb here and assume that Aranth and Kite followed us into the camp.)

Pius slings one of Thiall's arms over his shoulder, helping him to a relatively clear area in the middle of the camp.

"Everyone who's wounded, wait here."

"Aranth, Kite, can you search the tents for anything useful? I'll cover you with my bow from over here. I... uhm... I doubt I'd be much use in close combat."

[Justyn]

Before following along, Kite runs off to fetch something. He returns after a few moments with a second sword tucked into his belt.

After Pius asks him to look through the tents, he goes off to start looking through them.

[Tyracus]

Taking a moment to approach the camp from a sheltered angle Aranth makes quick work of the search. Starting from the command tents he gathers a scroll case and collection of maps, mostly small scale maps emphasizing the terrain of importance for this campaign but also making sure to take at least one map of the whole of creation. Next he fills a small sack with silver from the war chest and makes his way to the barracks. As he clears each tent in turn he notes signs of the mass retreat that the reserve forces made in the face of the Dragon-Blooded forces. He lifts a framed portrait from the ground from the debris of a hastily emptied footlocker taking care as he places it upon the officer's cot.

Leaving the officer's barracks he heads to one of the soldier's tents in which he quickly bundles several mats and blankets and one large oiled tarp. Taking these gathered supplies in addition to his small package he always carried Aranth moved towards the others.

I have gathered bedding and maps for our journey, I believe the mess tent should have rations. I believe you're closer where you are Kite, while I bind these into an easier bundle to carry could you package a weeks supply of trail rations, that should be enough to get us to town where we can use the funds we have to purchase more supplies and a better means of transport.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius, seeing that there is no enemy presence in the camp, immediately starts rummaging around in the wreckage of his old command tent. Extracting a large sling bag from deviously concealed locker, he chuckles.

"Forget about the silver, Aranth. We've got plenty of good jade obols right here. It's two years of my back pay, and is probably worth triple your sack of Silver."

Putting two fingers into his mouth, he whistles hopefully. Amazingly, his whistle is answered by a raucous neigh. Dashing over to the ruins of the stable, Pius watches gleefully as his horse, Binky, extracts itself from the fallen beam it had been cowering under.

"Binky! I always knew you were just as big a coward I was!"

Hugging Binky joyfully, he leads it towards the rest.

"We'd best get any other stray horses we can find. The wounded will need them, at least until the next town where we can buy some for everyone."

[Trenchfoot]

Pius slings one of Thiall's arms over his shoulder, helping him to a relatively clear area in the middle of the camp.

Graydon winces as Pius grabs the man with the dislocated shoulder. Hopefully he grabbed the one that wasn't dislocated!

With some of the younger people rushing about the camp scrambling for different items, Graydon takes his time. They were after useful things of course, maps, scrolls, details, and Graydon wasn't going to call their search pointless. He just had a different goal in mind.

He spots what he thinks is the recovery tent, but as he hadn't been to this tent, he only knows what to look for based on his experience. Entering the ruins of one tent in particular, Graydon finds a rest bed to sit on, and does so. With a sigh, he makes a more detailed inspection of the wound in his calf, peeling back the temporary coverings of cloth he had placed over it.

The gauze he had layered over it was semi-transparent, so he could make a decent inspection of the damage. The most noticeable bit was that the fascia, the spider-web like skin that covered the muscle, was easily torn, but fascia heals quickly and easily. When the crystal had entered, it had pushed aside the taut strings of muscle, and barely tore any of them. Thank the gods that Earth Caste crystal-makin' magic makes flat surfaces... The crystal had struck the saphenous vein pretty well, but it was only a vein that ran between the two major calf muscles, nothing that wouldn't heal. The crystal had missed the artery.

Graydon guess that eight weeks would be the typical healing time, but now was not a time for eight weeks of rest. Now was a time for moving to greater things. With this in mind, Graydon draws out a tiny bottle and quaffs it, scoffing at the taste. If strawberries grew in the south, I could fix the damned taste.

He had brought a complete bag of medical tools and supplies with him, but it never hurt to have a few extras. Graydon seeks out not only tools whose purpose was medical, but any bits and parts that could be converted. After a lifetime of field medicine, using belts to tie off bloody stumps or converting an arrowhead into a surgical tool had taught him what to look for.

[Tableface]

"I'm not wounded," Thiall mutters as he rises to his feet and enters one of the nearby tents. His head has finally begun to clear, and there's no time to waste. Who knows when this camp might be stumbled upon?

As he enters the tent--his tent, the one where he'd spent the night before--he appraises it: still in the same condition it was in when he'd left, bits and bobs scattered and knocked over from the hasty departure earlier this morning, excepting his sleeping space. He tugs the small pouch of firedust off of his belt, and approaches his sleeping roll. "Armus," he calls softly, emptying some firedust into an outstretched palm. "Army," he calls again, kneeling by the roll, being careful to not make any sudden movements. A translucent, reptilian head pokes out from the folds of the roll, appraising both Thiall and the offered hand. After a moment of contemplation, a firesnake slides forward out of the roll to lap up the dust and then wind around his arm. "Good girl," Thiall praises, uttering a prayer in his head that he at least didn't lose her to invading forces or Seprian bunk inspectors.

Pet accounted for, Thiall digs through his small bag of possessions, pulling out a fresh change of clothes and his backup pair of spectacles. He takes a moment to muse on how desperate Sepria must've been to take him into their military, but quickly depresses himself. He takes a moment to wipe away the blood and dirt from his body and face--noting with some irritation that everyone outside must have seen his outcaste tattoo--and shrugs on a change of clothes over a chain shirt. Showing up in uniform to anyplace would be a dead giveaway to the situation. A last search beneath his sleeping roll rewards him with his firestick, a little dirty but undamaged. On the way out he takes a quick drink of water in a bid to clear his throat.

When he emerges from the tent, Thiall almost looks like a different person, having transformed from a disheveled, bloody mess into a well-composed and decently-dressed survivor, even if he did still need a good bath. The sort of quick-change technique that one masters when frequently traveling. One arm--the one with the bracer--is folded behind his back, while the other carries his walking stick. His firesnake pokes its head out from under his sleeve, giving the other survivors a look that almost seems to ask 'who are these people?'

"Let's see," he remarks to himself as he adjusts his glasses, thankful to finally see his companions. "I'm Thiall, and," he pauses, suddenly realizing he has no clue how to introduce himself under these circumstances. 'Hi, how are you,' and 'pleased to meet you' both seem inadequate. "-And I'm sorry," he finishes lamely.

[lostlittlebear]

"Nice to meet you, Thiall. I'm Pius Ignavo."

Sitting down, Pius waits for the rest to begin gathering their stuff.

"I take it all of you are in for this mad Enlightenment quest. If so, we can't stay here forever. Any idea where to go next? "

Pius' face lights up with a grin.

"I can't believe I'm actually excited about doing something that might get me into danger."

The grin quickly fades into a frown.

"Though if...if we could stay out of it that might be good too..."

[Trenchfoot]

"I take it all of you are in for this mad Enlightenment quest. If so, we can't stay here forever. Any idea where to go next? "

Graydon, speaking in Low Realm with a definite non-Seprian accent, catches Thiall's introduction and Pius' words.

East is where I'm headed. He offers.

He can't help but find Thiall's speedy recovery from his earlier distress unusual, but says nothing about it. Instead, he takes a seat on the ground, saying no more.

[Tableface]

"East is a direction, not a location. Or a rather large location that encompasses many smaller locations." Thiall begins to pace, tucking his cane into his armpit. He brings his 'injured' arm up and rolls back the sleeve, idly beginning to inspect the strange bracer. "Does anyone here know of a place or person we could trust? We'll be heading through loyalist country on our way out of here-" he pauses for a moment at a pang of guilt, and spends a second trying to rationalize this to himself as anything but running away "-but that's all the more reason to be careful."

[lostlittlebear]

Pius nods.

"Caution is of the utmost necessity."

"I'm sure some of my friends and family are still around, though I doubt they'll be of much use, considering that as nobility they're probably going to be hunted down by Realm forces."

[Trenchfoot]

"East is a direction, not a location. Or a rather large location that encompasses many smaller locations."

Ah, ye must be a cartographer. Graydon chuckles under his breath.

[Tableface]

Thiall scrunches up his face in confusion as he finishes scrutinizing the bracer. No sign of latch or clasp, so it must be a tug-off. He takes hold of it, but at the first sign of pressure a sudden surge of pain jolts along his arm and stabs right into his heart, and suddenly he knows. His head jerks up to the other survivors, and at the last second he manages to mask his panic--there's nothing that can be done about it, and there are more immediate emergencies to deal with.

"S-sorry, Pius," he says, a slight waver in his voice that he hopes is mistaken for surprise or sympathy. He turns his attention to Aranth. "Aranth, did you find a map that shows us where we are? We should probably avoid the roads until we're almost out of Sepria, and all I know of navigating is how to follow the road and where the sun rises and sets."

[Tyracus]

At Thiall's question Aranth nods and draws his sword. Pulling a piece of parchment from the leather lining of his scabbard he rolls it on a nearby table and weighs the corners with the detritus of the rapid escape.

This will actually prove to be useful even despite our loss and the death of the prince. We always knew that there was a risk of loss, the civil war had intensified to such a degree that we had to take every caution, we just didn't anticipate the realm coming into the picture. We had already planned out several routes that would offer good cover over rough terrain to break up our trail and allow us a chance of escape with the prince. Most of them lead out to the south and east towards our strongholds but we did plan 2 routes heading north and east in case we were outflanked and had to escape that way. He traces the route along a ravine that feeds into a canyon pass towards the northeast. This would likely be the best route to take. It looks steep on the map but our engineers had enough time to cut a discreet series of switchbacks that were just wide enough to guide horses through in single file. There are a few rough areas in the ravine but none are insurmountable and the canyon we exit into is a clear path that will put us out far enough away from the battlefield to avoid suspicion but near enough the road to be convenient. The other route was sadly damaged by artillery fire from the forces of Paragon and while it would be traversable on foot with some effort we couldn't take any livestock.

[lostlittlebear]

"That's a nice fall-back option you've got there," Pius says, whistling appreciatively.

"I vote we move out now. Time is of the essence. The more we wait the higher chance there is we run into something unsavory. Graydon, you can take my horse - you're in no shape to walk."

Leading Binky over to Graydon, he continues.

"Aranth, Thiall, you two take the lead. As swordsman and cartographer you all should be able to handle the trail and any problems that crop up. I'll guard the rear with this lad here."

Extending a hand to Kite, Pius gives him a slight bow.

"I'm afraid we haven't been introduced yet."

(OOC: I figure the rest can join us at the next town later - it beats just waiting around for a week or so.)

[Justyn]

Kite unsteadily copies Pius' actions. "I'm Kite. Son of the head of the Red Manse smiths of Damaskil."

"And... I think we should take our time preparing, just to make sure we have everything we need before we set out, things like silver, jade, scrap iron... s'always better to have more than we need than not enough."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon waves away Pius' horse excitedly.

I appreciate your offer, really, but I'm in perfect shape to walk. I'll be fine.

He looks to Aranth, who had said something that definitely piqued his interest and a bit of shock.

"Death of the Prince" you said, do you mean Prince Kaliel? Did he die in the battle?! How?

[lostlittlebear]

"You weren't there?"

"The Dragon-Blooded tore straight into his household guard, and they didn't mess around. Went straight for him - saw his banner fall myself."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon leans forward, interest clear on his face.

I was close by and I didn't get to see it! What do ye mean tore through his guard? Did he actually get a chance to fight back?

[Tyracus]

Rolling the map into the scroll case with the other maps Aranth enter's the conversation between Pius and Graydon.

The prince was harried just trying to stay alive, the wood dragonblooded's arrows wounded him and the fire dragonblooded's blade finished him off. I was fighting the earth and water dragonblooded with Deran while the air tried to slow us from behind them. I managed to wound the water dragonblooded but by that point the others were finished and the 5 regrouped. I can only thank Deran's armor and the sturdyness of my blade as well as a collapsing flank on their side that we were able to escape. I didn't see exactly what was done with the body but I was unable to find it when I returned. I can only hope that they are giving him funeral rites befitting his station but I have a hard time convincing myself of that.

Making one final look over of the camp Aranth readjusts the supplies he prepared and

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon nods with the tale, and carefully keeps his face free of expression, knowing Pius' sensitivity to any crassness about the cause of Prince Kaliel.

Interesting... Who takes over now?

[lostlittlebear]

Pius shakes his head sadly.

"No one."

"Prince Kelial was the rightful heir - irreplaceable and all that we fought for. Every noble swore and oath to protect him to their last breath, and that's what I tried to do. My men died trying to guard the royal flank, but against Exalted... their deaths were just in vain. But if we could enlighten our Essence, then maybe we could make them pay for the deaths we've suffered."

[Tableface]

Thiall frowns. "Kaliel's death makes Marwan's rule technically legitimate. Revenge and principle are to drive us now, and regardless of what befalls Sepria because of it we cannot allow the usurper to sit on that throne."

Righteousness seems to have come easy to him with the news of the Prince's death.

"If we head for the coast, we can exit into the fringes of Paragon's territory, and from there into Chiaroscuro and Varangia." A bit of ice enters his voice at mentioning Varang. "From there it's just a matter of getting to Kirighast and then mounting an expedition to find this spring." He leaves the possibility that the spring doesn't exist unvoiced; even if it didn't there's nothing they could do for Sepria as it is now.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon raises his hands at the words of legitimacy and rightful heirs, and says this:

Such is the great jest that is Monarchy, aye?

When Thiall mentions that "Revenge and principle are to drive us now", Graydon chuckles quietly to himself, not in an insulting way, and says nothing of it.

[lostlittlebear]

"Well, sitting around here all day won't get us anywhere."

"I vote we follow Thiall's idea. We'd be more likely to blend in around big crowds, rather than travelling alone and appearing to be the escaping soldiers we are."

Voting with his feet, Pius takes Binky and starts to head off in the direction Thiall indicates.

[Tableface]

"Before we leave, how about we start our journey off with more... auspiciousness?" Thiall fiddles with the head of his cane, and appears to pour some firedust into a slot near the head. "I don't wish to leave anything else for the bastards to scavenge, and a good sacrifice may do wonders when we eventually return."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon looks to the firedust with a bit of interest, but his face screws up with confusion at the mention of sacrifice.

Sacrifice? What, yer gonna kill a goat?

[Tableface]

Thiall shakes his head. "That might suit some lesser spirit, but today belongs to Ahlat--and will belong to him again, when we return." Thiall looks about appraisingly at the remaining tents. "Something more theatrical is in order. Such as the remains of an army camp." Stopping in front of the firedust storage tent, he looks back over his shoulder at the others. "Do any of you object, or have anything else you'd like to retrieve?"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon raises his hand.

Aye, but nothin physical, just an answer. Are ye sayin that 'today', the day that yer 'rightful heir' was butchered, the day that hundreds of yer kin and countrymen died and that a usurper took the throne of yer nation... Yer sayin this day belongs to yer God?

He doesn't say it incredulously, more out of genuine cultural ignorance. It is simply a question, not a criticism.

[lostlittlebear]

"I've never been much interested in religion, but even I know that Ahlat does not favor one side or another. Such is the way of gods - the affairs of mortal men do not unduly concern them as long as there is enough slaughter to appease them."

"By all means make the sacrifice, but be quick, we haven't much time to lose."

Pius taps his foot, clearly impatient to be off.

[Justyn]

Kite dropped about a dozen swords in a small pile near Pius and chimed in.

"I don't think we should sacrifice anything to Ahlat. Ahlat already showed who's side he favored, and I don't think burning a few tents will change his mind."

"He..." Kite points at Greydon, but seems to be unable to produce a name. "he is right, we might not have found his body, and even if there is a chance he yet lives, the prince is most likely dead, and the usurper sits on the throne unchallenged. Our army is broken, and our comrades and countrymen lie dead. And besides that, we are only mortals, not Exalted. We shouldn't try to pray to gods, it's... It's heresy."

Kite paused for a moment and furrowed his brow. "So, if we're going to commit heresy, we might as well go big." I say..." Kite rose his arm and pointed at the sky, at the sun. "we pray to him."

[Tableface]

Thiall eyes Kite. "Don't you think praying out of spite cheapens it?" he asks as he enters the tent. "Besides," he continues as he rummages through the boxes and sacks, "I pray to 'him' five times a day already, if you want to be led in services. Presuming our journey turns out the way we hope, there will be at least one minor war in our future, and we will need more than the dragonlines flowing through us if we're to have any hope of winning."

Thiall exits the tent, leaving a small trail of firedust leaking from a large bag he holds in his free hand. Armus darts out of his sleeve every now and then for a small mouthful. As he makes his way out of camp, he begins a lengthy sermon to the god of war and cattle.

"Mighty Ahlat," he begins, waving his stick pointedly for emphasis now and then, "today has been an excellent day, and while we have not been deemed fit the honor of death in this conflict, we praise and thank you for allowing a chance to one day have our time on the battlefield-" and so on he goes, launching into a fairly detailed prayer about the glories and virtues of war, the righteousness of Ahlat's favor, and at one point how magnificent their signal horn was to have been carved from steerhorn and how delicious the steaks the beast was made into must have been. He finally stops at the edge of the camp "-and so we commend this encampment to you, that you and your aurochs might find better use for it than any mere mortals."

Finally done, Thiall plants his stick at the end of his trail of firedust. "Unless you're set on stopping me, you may wish to join me over here."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon shifts his position so he is not down range if the inevitable billowing smoke.

And thusly the Hundred Gods Heresy was born.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius moves a safe distance away from the site of the explosion, mind already turning to thoughts of movement and travel, as well as contingency plans for the possible dangers they might face ahead.

[nick012000]

Deran shimmers back into visibility as Thiall begins the ceremony to Ahlat, and stands back listening to the ritual, and then walks over to join him.

"Well spoken. I've gotten what I need. We're to be off, then?"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, at first startled by the appearance of the Gunzosha warrior, begins to chuckle.

The chuckle becomes louder, and reaches down to his stomach, becoming a full-on belly laugh. The laugh nearly becomes hysterical before Graydon calms down.

Ye've got be kiddin' me.

[Tableface]

Thiall eyes the Gunzosha for a second, returns his focus to his prepared sacrifice, then startles and instead lifts his walking stick towards the new arrival, waving it like a crossbow. "Identify yourself!" he barks, miraculously managing to keep the shock out of his voice.

[Tyracus]

You know you really could have chosen a better way of introducing yourself Deran. But then again you always did have a habit of not making your presence known without good reason. An admirable trait for a bodyguard but ultimately pointless in the current situation.

He turns to the shocked group.

This is Deran Toram, one of the elite soldiers of Sepria. I work with him more than any other soldier but only in situations as dire as this one. I believe he's overheard the whole story and we should be safe to leave.

[Tableface]

Thiall looks at Aranth. Then he looks at Deran. Then back to Aranth. Then the sky. Then at Graydon.

"It's too late to join in laughing, isn't it?"

Thiall slams the tip of his stick against the firedurst trail. There's a loud thumping sound, and then a slight explosion as the trail ignites. A small flame follows the line back into the camp, scorching and lightly igniting the corners of some tents as it winds it way beneath the flap of the firedust tent. A section of the camp outright explodes, flinging bits of burning cloth and wood into the rest of the tents, shortly sending the whole thing up in a slow-burning conflagration. Thiall watches his work, looking proud.

"For the greatness of our cause, and war may follow!" he shouts as a last prayer, before whirling on Deran. "You had better stay out of sight if you're going to go tramping about in that suit; the idea is to not stand out."

[lostlittlebear]

Pius joins Graydon in peals of laughter.

"Well... that was an abrupt way of introducing yourself, but I suppose it will suffice. Come, we'd better be off."

"As I said earlier. Thiall and Aranth, if you would take point? Deran and Kite, please guard our rear. I'll co-ordinate things from the middle, along with Graydon, who clearly isn't in any state to fight."

Grinning at everyone, Pius continues, "Let the adventure begin!"

[Tyracus]

As the explosion and blaze take hold of the camp Aranth grabs a scrap of cloth bearing the Seprian seal from the air. Taking care to put out it's edges he tucks the cloth into his belt and turns to the ravine.

The switchbacks are cut there, he gestures to a carved path I'll take the more direct route that goes down from here. With a practiced ease he drops off the edge and catches two handholds, taking a moment to find the footholds to correspond to them he quickly climbs down a natural chimney and to the bottom of the ravine.

Speed would be wise. While the army will be gone the flames and smoke could attract bandits and I'd rather avoid them than fight.

[Trenchfoot]

While the army will be gone the flames and smoke could attract bandits and I'd rather avoid them than fight.

Heh, didn't think there were any military-aged males left in this country. Alright, I'm hoofin' it.

Graydon follows Aranth's gesture, seeking the cut switchbacks and crutching along at a normal pace.

[nick012000]

Deran chuckles at Thiall's comment regarding stealth.

"Don't worry. The artificers of the Exalted knew what they were doing when they made this suit. With its magics, I'm actually stealthier in it than I am out of it."

He then listens to the comment regarding marching formation, and then speaks up.

"The magics of my suit make me much faster when marching. Perhaps I should be at the front?"

[lostlittlebear]

"That's actually all the more reason why you should stay behind. We don't want the vanguard to outpace the rest of us by too much and get separated, at least not in a march. In a battlefield, that might be different, but we're not about to be attack any enemy positions here."

"The stealth capacities of your suit are great though! It's perfect for catching opponents who think they can trail us unnoticed."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon can't help but scoff quietly at the praise for the Gunzosha suit, but he keeps his opinions to himself. Instead, he slowls, silently waiting for the others to decide on an order of march. He briefly imagines wielding his crutch like a shepherd's crook to gather up the younger men, ushering them into a herd and heading for 'greener pastures'.

In a way, that bird-headed thing did just that... Greener pastures beyond the dying fields of Sepria...

[Horatio@Bridge]

The small band descends into the dry ravines north of Arsuf. Dozens of small bands of soldiers are fleeing, though most are heading south toward Gem. The armies of Marwan and his allies seem content to let the broken resistance scatter as they take possession of the city and pause to lick their wounds. Fairly free of harassment, the group makes good time, slipping across the Dorjan River at twilight and getting several miles into the hills under the cover of darkness.

Near midnight, gathering stormclouds obscure the moon and stars enough to make further travel treacherous, and the group begins to look for a place to wait for light. They find a cave etched into the bottom of a hill, but as they move down into it they discover that they were not the first to seek shelter here. The body of a Seprian soldier lies just inside the cave entrance, leaning against the wall.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon huffs and moves toward the cave, saying to the others:

Hold on, lemme see if he's croaked or not.

Approaching the cave, Graydon moves slowly and keeps his hands out, suspecting the man has friends inside. He calls out to the Seprian, unsure if he's really dead.

Oi, ye awake in there? Ye look bloody dead!

[Tyracus]

Stepping past Graydon Aranth enters the cave giving the wounded soldier a quick glance before sweeping the cave with his eyes and standing behind the medic.

Check quickly, if the wounds are recent then we may have company further in the cave. Once you have your diagnosis we can begin what treatment we can offer, I know a little and should be able to assist. He looks up at the group and singles out Pius with his focus.

Pius could you sort our a watch and coordinate the others. I'll keep an ear to the cave but if Graydon needs an extra set of hands to help I'll have to keep my eyes to that. As he speaks he begins to unlace the cords on the back of his gloves in preparation to take them off.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius nods, agreeing with Aranth.

"Deren, just do a quick scout of the cave interior and report back here. Leave the stealth capacities of your armor on - it might be needed."

"Thiall, Kite, if you'll take the first watch? I suggest that we take watches in pairs from now on. One person on guard just outside the cave, and another person inside watching the person outside. So even if our first sentry gets disabled, we'll still have decent warning of an attack."

[nick012000]

Deren nods, and then fades from sight as he slips into the cave, his vision seeing through the gloom as clearly as the light of day. He weaves between stalactites and stalagmites, covering the flows and shifts of the uneven ground as he sneaks through the chambers and passages, looking for anything that might be responsable for the dead body.

[Trenchfoot]

To hell with caution then.

Graydon approaches the fallen Seprian carefully, poking him with his crutch a little to see if he kicks. Ey bub, now ain't the time fer a snooze.

With no kick forthcoming, the older man leans down next to him, looking at the blood first. Blood makes a particular dance when it leaves the body, and the dance can tell an observer what kind of music was playing when it left. He also checks the man's skin, not just for coloration, but for heat. After death, there is a certain amount of time it takes for the body to lose its temperature, depending on the temperature of the air around him. In the cool shade of the cave, knowing the man's temperature might give a good guess as to when he died.

None of the younger men had reported signs of any weapons, not even arrows. Did this man die with his weapon in his hand? Was it taken from him after death? Did he die on his feet, or on his knees?

Graydon was confident he could discover these things and more, and began to take the time to learn. At least he could learn the man's name.

Alrighty, making two rolls here. The Intelligence+Medicine is to determine the medical explanation of his death. Was he killed in combat? Was it execution style? How long ago did it happen? The second is Intelligence+Investigation, to understand what had really happened in this cave.

Int+Med 9d10
Int+Inv 9d10
Stunt1 1d10
Stunt2 1d10 What the fudge. Rolling OOC.

[Horatio@Bridge]

Blood and grime on the soldier's clothing indicate that he'd participated in combat of some sort recently, most likely at the battle of Arsuf. There is some bruising and scrapes on his arms and knuckles, indicating defensive wounds. There are bruises on his shins, too, where it seems he fell on some rocks based on the shape of the bruise. The wound that killed him becomes apparent as soon as Graydon bends down next to him: a puncture wound in his thigh, a copious amount of blood pooled beneath it. Graydon finds the source of the wound in the man's hand: an arrow-head of Seprian manufacture. The arrow was barbed, designed to cause further damage on the way out. The man had probably run for hours with the arrow buried in his leg, but it didn't kill him until one of its barbs nicked an artery when he removed it. The man was still fairly limber, so rigor mortis had not yet set in fully, indicating that he'd only been dead for a couple of hours at most. If he'd just waited a bit longer for a surgeon to arrive he might have survived his wound.

-----------

Deren follows the cave back, and eventually discovers that it curves upward and out of the hill again. It seems that yearly floods had hollowed out the portion of the hill made of softer rock, forming a tunnel of sorts through the hill. The far exit is very narrow, so only a child could squeeze through it. Bat guano on that side of the cave does indicate that the far exit does see use, though the bats are currently out hunting in the night.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, satisfied with his investigative work, stands and looks down at the corpse.

Imbecile.

Wasting no more though on the corpse, Graydon casually begins seeking out sufficient wood and brush to make a short, sufficient fire. Even after a day of traveling, his wound had made some remarkable progress, and didn't impede him as much as the other men seemed to believe it would.

I knew what I was doing when I fixed myself up, dammit. I always know what I'm doing.

The sagebrush and tiny mesquite trees of the dry area didn't afford much, but it would be enough for a brief fire, maybe an hour or so, and that's only if Graydon can find enough.

Okay, searching for decent brush for a fire, I think, counts as Perception + Survival, so I'll roll that now. I may not have a lot of dice, but it's more supplementary to the search. I only bother because the ravine was described as Dry. If this were still a desert ravine, then I wouldn't even bother. Besides, rain made the cave, and where there's rain, there's somethin growin.
[roll0]

[Tableface]

Thiall gives Pius a mock salute, and takes a position at the exit of the cave. Noting the time, he drops to his knees and sticks the end of his stick into the dirt, positioning it so that the crystal refracts the light of the moon just so before he begins his midnight prayer to the sun.


Midnight is one of the prayer times for Greeting the Sun.

Charisma + Performance, 1 success needed, five minutes
[roll0]

[nick012000]

Deran slinks around a stalagmite, deactivating his camouflage field as he does so.

"The cave is secure, at least as far as I can tell. There's another opening at the other side, but it's small enough that only a child could get through, so unless we're attacked by murderous pygmies or something, we'll be fine."

He then walks up to Thiall, and states, "I'll take second watch. I've got better night vision than the rest of you, thanks to the suit."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon watches the prayerful man for a moment, and finds that he is as uncomfortable as usual around the religious.

Gods... Ever-present things that deserve respect and thanks, aye? People always say, if not for the Gods, what would become of man? Graydon had invented his own version of this common saying, and had held to it as a reason for his distaste for the Gods and for worship. All that he had ever done and accomplished were by his hands alone, and were any to demand that he give credit to some unknown power for his work... Folly. Dependency. Weak supplicants to idle spirits and ideas. I stand by my will alone, the Gods be damned.

Graydon unintentionally speaks his next words aloud as he reaches to snap off a bristly mesquite branch. He doesn't realize it, but over the years he's developed a tendency to mutter to himself when his hands are busy.

If not for man, what would become of the Gods?

He hears the man in the suit making some off-hand comment about its benefits, and chuckles .

If your suit's so damned great, what do we need you for? Let the suit make this trip, you can go home, heheh.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius gives Graydon a despairing look.

"Look, if you want to blaspheme, can you please do it AFTER we've finished our quest? For all you know, one of them might be listening - and then we're REALLY screwed."

[nick012000]

Deran glances at Graydon, after he hears him chuckle in response to his statement.

"Yes? You got something to say?"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon waves them both off, surprised that he had spoken aloud, but showing no outward remorse. He keeps working as he speaks.

Don't mind me, don't mind me. I'm keepin' my opinions to meself. I don't need to be sayin' nothin' about what others do with their time, no matter what I may think of it.

He gestures toward Pius and the armor-wearer with a bundle of brush, matching stares with each of them and remaining unperturbed.

Pius, if you an 'suits' wanna do somethin though, ye could gimme a hand gatherin' up some brush. I'm gonna get a fire goin and boil some water.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius throws up his hands and laughs.

"You're a piece of work, you are. One moment you're blaspheming against the very gods themselves, and now you're trying to gather wood for the fire."

"Lord Blasphemer, I hear and obey."

Giving Graydon a ridiculous salute, Pius bends down to start collecting dried twigs and dead leaves.

[Trenchfoot]

Yet again, Graydon internalizes his true thoughts. He knows it'd be unfair to pass judgment on these men so early.

Outwardly:

Ye ain't gotta obey me, Pius, I'm just a man.

Inwardly:

One moment ye're leading troops into battle, the next moment they're all bloody dead! Hah!

Graydon pauses and grins to himself again. Aye, such is the dichotomy of the mind and the mouth. Putting on a damned filter just to keep others happy. Blech.

Reflecting on this, Graydon selects a spot near the entrance of the cave and dumps the wood scraps and kindling there. Taking his time, he beings to set up the fireplace, searching through his backpack for a flint & tinder.

[Justyn]

Kite found a small recess in the cave, and dropped the backpack with a few dozen swords that he had hammered the edges off of, and two satchels stuffed full of pickles, hardtack, and spiced jerky taken from the mess tent. After he was free of the bags, Kite joined Thiall in guarding the entrance, though he sat further inside the cave than Thiall did, if only a foot or two.

[lostlittlebear]

The fire being in capable hands, Pius turns his attention to the dead body.

"Shouldn't we at least do something for this poor soul here?"

"Cremation would probably be unwise, but at least we could let him rest in a proper grave."

Taking a shovel from the supplies they managed to extract from the camp, Pius starts to dig a shallow grave.

[Tyracus]

As Pius begins digging Aranth moves over to a stalagmite where he pauses. As he measures his breaths he draws his blade in one rapid motion and cuts through the base. Taking four more cuts to carve smooth edges along the sides he lifts the monolith and plants it near the head of the grave. That task done he takes the soldier's tabard and insignia and makes a tombstone as indicative of the soldier as he can. Once Pius had cleared enough dirt Aranth helps him lift and lower the soldier. Taking the soldier's sword and shield he places them across the body's chest and then kneels by the grave.

Your bonds have been fulfilled as you swore when you entered Sepria's service. May your loyalty be rewarded in your next life even as our prayers send your soul to rest. A Deo et Rege, Animus facit nobilem

As Aranth rises from beside the grave he salutes for a moment and then refills the soil, taking care to bury the soldier's face last.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, now getting the fire going with a pair of sticks and stubborn dedication, nods at Aranth as he finishes with his ceremony.

Do ye bury every soldier as a dutiful and loyal man? Even if their actions were quite the opposite?

It's an honest question, and there's no sarcasm to it. He's genuinely curious to hear Aranth's answer.

[nick012000]

Deran glances at him.

"Better than risking his Hungry Ghost possessing his corpse and trying to kill us in our sleep."

[lostlittlebear]

Sitting down beside Graydon, Pius stretches his hands out to the fire, warming them with it's heat.

"If you ask me, any soldier that falls in the line of duty has done his duty, no matter how small his actions were. What more can a nation ask than the ultimate sacrifice?"

[Tableface]

Thiall stands back up, having completed his nightly prayer. He keeps his eyes focused out into the night, but addresses the others.

"Well, what we're doing, maybe."

Armus pokes her head out of his sleeve, gazing intently up at him. He gazes back, tilts his head, and then gestures away. She hisses, and slithers down his walking stick and out into the night.

Sending the firesnake out to be an early-warning sentry; sure, it can't call out, but it can slither back with urgency.

[Trenchfoot]

"If you ask me, any soldier that falls in the line of duty has done his duty, no matter how small his actions were.

Graydon smiles at this particular comment. He had heard a few stories about Pius Ignavo, and unconsciously, Pius had just confirmed many of them.

Is that what ye believe, or what ye want to believe, Mr. Ignavo?

As the fire begins to gather and strengthen, Graydon gestures toward the grave with a spoon.

That man did not fall in the line of duty. He suffered one wound from one arrow, the type we call 'Cowardsbane'. When it sticks in ye, it's not that bad, but if ye yank it out without proper training... Like a coward who can't handle the pain... cowardsbane tears arteries, rips muscle an tendon... An yer done fer.

The spoon becomes a judge's gavel then as Grayon slams it on his knee.

Our mutual friend fled the battle because of that arrow. He suffered no other injuries, no real dings to his armor or his flesh. He ran like a coward and died here, abandoning his comrades and succumbing to his wound alone. He sacrificed nothing but his own honor.

He gestures now to Deran.

If a weakling spirit like that rises as a hungry ghost, I'd be surprised. I'd welcome it trying to take its revenge on me for saying exactly what it is.

Finally, he looks to Aranth, with no malice or judgment in his voice, just an honest query.

So again I ask ye, do ye bury every soldier as a dutiful and loyal man, even if their actions were quite the opposite?

[lostlittlebear]

"Mr. Graydon, I don't know much about you, but seeing as you are a foreign mercenary, I can only presume you joined the military out of choice."

"But the people of Sepira aren't all that fortunate."

"Thousands of young men were torn from their families, loved ones and friends in order to fight this war. All them had dreams, aspirations, futures, plans. And each and every one of them were forced to put all of them on hold to fight for a cause that many did not even understand in the first place."

"Is it any wonder then, that these young men do not want to die?"

"Is it any wonder then, that their first instinct when faced with a wound is not to tough it out, but to react in the way their bodies tell them to?"

"Can you really blame them for having no training when the ones who should have trained them instead threw them onto the battlefield without scarcely a thought?"

"I know it was necessary, but to this day I wish we could have found another plan. Conscription always felt like a poor way to build an army."

"Say whatever you like about the justness of our cause - but do not ever belittle the men who died for it."

Pius' voice trails off and he stares sullenly into the fire for a moment before resuming.

"I know what fear is like, and I do not blame any man for succumbing to it. For me, the fact that he stood with us on the battlefield, even if only for a moment, is enough.

[nick012000]

Deran shrugs.

"Better not to tempt the spirits. Sure, they probably won't do anything, but they very well might. We're in earshot of dozens if not hundreds of them, and better safe than sorry."

[Tableface]

Thiall rolls his eyes.

"If one corpse in a cave made you both this talkative, I'm thankful we didn't get into it on the field." He points his stick at Deran. "He's got the right of it; a few kind words and a grave is a small price to try and save someone from becoming a ghastly monstrosity. I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon smiles widely at Thiall's comment.

It's not the corpse, it's the concept of 'is death. Sorry if our subject's a little over yer head boy, but if ye like, I got some candle wax ye can stuff in yer ears so ye don't have to hear it.

To Pius, Graydon gladly continues their discussion, impressed with Pius' willingness to broach what was clearly a touchy subject.

So ye agree that he fled, and let his comrades die? The men with that soldier were forced into it too, Pius, but they stayed! He left! Is not one deserving of more respect than the other, especially in death?

[nick012000]

Deran shrugged.

"Odds are our troops on the battlefield got decent burials as well. There were the Exalted leading that army, and they know better than to leave an army unburied when they can help it, lest it become an undead army in short order."

He pauses for a moment, before adding, "Or the battlefield a shadowland, for that matter."

[Tableface]

Thiall eyes Graydon. "Knock off the 'crotchety bastard who only speaks up to insult people' routine. We are all in a very difficult situation right now--I'm still putting off a good panic--and we really, really do not need you trying to show us how wise you are by being a miserable cuss. We're going to have to depend on each other through this, and anyone trying their damnedest to be divisive helps himself least of all."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon casually fires right back, unfazed by the uppity youngster.

Pius an I are havin' a conversation, Thiall. I'm too old to need to 'put on a show' or a 'routine' like some young folks do who ain't yet discovered who they are. This is just the way I am after years of dumb mistakes an stupid ideas. If ye think I'm bein deliberately divisive, then bloody well ignore what I say, hush yerself and quit interruptin' me.

Dekar turns back to Pius.

Sorry. Ye were sayin?

[lostlittlebear]

(OOC: Will the final character be joining us soon?)

Pius clears his throat, rising to the rebuttal.

"Of course the conscripts who stayed deserve respect - they are heroes to me, more so than any noble commander or knight."

"But that does not mean that men like the poor soldier here did not do their duty. They might not be heroes, but they deserve a respectful burial."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon nods silently, accepting the answer and learning just a little bit more about the truth of the Pius tales.

He looks to Aranth, wondering about his thoughts now that the facts of the dead soldier are revealed for all to know.

[Eskil]

The falcon Seyaan communicates a questioning of purpose. In a soft voice, so as to not be overheard, Daneel answers; "I don't know where my commander is, I dont know if prince Kailan is alive, they are the closest thing to a legitimate authority I can think of and they are heading east. They are the best chance we got so I will help them get there."
Deep breath.
"Stay." he commands the three warhounds as he puts down most of his weapons, keeping only a knife. Seyaan abandons the bushgrowth he's been waiting in and alights on the young mans shoulder. Another deep breath, and then Daneel starts towards the small campsite, his hands held in a way that he hopes looks both friendly and unthreatening.

[Tyracus]

Opening his eyes Aranth turns to look at Graydon.

The battle was lost as soon as the Realm took to the field. We do not know when this soldier left the field of battle and we should afford him the respect of one who left when all was already lost. I never truly forgot the fear of battle that my mentor drove into me but time has tempered it. I think that conscripts would stand little chance in the path of a dragon-blooded onslaught and that fear would swiftly set in. When even one person breaks that panic spreads like the most potent plagues, it is the very nature of men to run from a situation that will claim their lives.

[Tableface]

"None of us have a right to judge. There isn't a one among us who isn't a coward, deserter, or failure, and I wonder how many of us--myself included--are honest about wanting to return when this quest is d-" a hiss interrupts Thiall. He looks down to see that Armus has coiled around his walking stick, and is looking up with as much urgency as her crystal-clear reptile face can manage (which isn't much, but is enough).

"Someone's coming."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, bemused by the philosophies of his comrades, looks up to the newcomer. He gestures accomodatingly to an open spot by the growing fire, and mimics the words of Thiall. It isn't mocking, it's more of an acceptance of Thiall's terms that he used to define their group.

Come on down stranger. Deserters, cowards and failures welcome here.

[Eskil]

Deserters!? Cowards!? Daneel stiffens slightly and his reply comes out in a shorter tone he intended. "Thank you."
He moves closer to fire, but remains standing.
"I am Daneel." he says with a short bow, and, indicating the bird on his shoulder; "This is Seyaan." Seyaan spreads his wings slightly and lowers his head then resumes his perch.

"Are you headed east?" Daneel asks. "A bird told me there are opportunities in that direction."

[lostlittlebear]

"I guess we are at that. We'll be moving out tomorrow as soon as it's light."

[Justyn]

Kite was cleaning and polishing his ward with a rag when he saw the man approach. Why yes, this is an "I'm still here" post.

[Tableface]

"Does that bird-headed bastard send everyone he meets this way?" Thiall sighs, then points to himself and the others in turn. "Thiall, Pius, Graydon, Deran, Kite, Aranth." There's a moment of silence, broken by a hiss from Armus, who somehow manages to look offended. "... and Armus. Please make clear to your bird that she is not to be eaten. Welcome to our company."

[Eskil]

Daneel flashes a quick grins and bows again, this time with his hans held forward, palms up, as a gesture of gratitude.
The grin fades, but, as he speaks again, his voice sounds more relaxed.
"Does that raiton-man tell most people he meets about the enlightenment waiting in the east?"
Daneel shrugs. "Probably. We awaken our essence; we can fight against the ursurper and his backers.
The fighting in Sepria continues; the raitons keep feasting."

[lostlittlebear]

(OOC: Should we skip to the next morning?)

[Horatio@Bridge]

The next day dawns clear and hot. The sun beats down from an azure heaven like a wrestler trying to smother his opponent in the dirt. The small group of survivors, now one member larger, is up before the dawn and already moving by the time the sun crests the horizon. By the time the sun reaches its full heat, they are standing at the top of a hill across the river from the battlefield, miles from any other human life. The view from the hilltop gives them a glimpse of the battlefield, where they see work crews scurrying like ants among the dead bodies. Deran's augmented eyes give him a clear look at one of the crews, a band of workmen loading up bodies in a cart, a clerk following behind them checking each body against the names on a list. Apparently finding something, he stops the cart and another worker comes close to pick one body in particular from it. The smoke from the burning loyalist camp still drifts across the battlefield, and Deran can see a dragonblooded officer standing by the ruins, cursing as he looks over the devastation.

The heat troubles Daneel. He knows this terrain, and he knows that this kind of weather will drain travelers much faster than they might anticipate. The group had the good sense to carry a fairly sizeable amount of water away from the camp, but there are limits to what a band of seven men can carry without pack animals. Daneel is certain that the group will have to find a source of fresh water within the next day or two, or their supplies will give out before they can reach the trade road leading to Chiarascuro.



Sorry for leaving you guys hanging for so long. Things have been hectic with school starting.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius nudges Deran.

"Can you see a way past all those work crews with that fancy suit of yours? I'd rather not get into a fight - you never know if one of those Exalts are around."

[nick012000]

Deran looks at Pius, his expression unreadable underneath the helmet.

"Sure. We go that way," he responds, gesturing in the exact opposite direction as the battlefield. "You know, just like we already were doing."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon squints out at the horizon, leaning on his makeshift crutch as he catches his breath. He could see the smoke, and the scrambling little men running around on the battlefield.

Heheheh... History's written by victors an all that.

He turns to the rest of the men with him, a wry smile on his face.

Who ye fellers think they're lookin fer out there? And who do ye think is lookin? If its yer people, yer Prince's body goes home for an honorable burial. If it's the Realm, his head goes on a pike for all to see, aye?

[lostlittlebear]

"Either way, dead is dead."

"Let's keep moving - getting ourselves killed will help no one."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon's mouth drops open in surprise.

Whoah whoah whoah! Wasn't it ye who said "They might not be heroes, but they deserve a respectful burial"? What do ye mean by "dead is dead"? That's yer Prince out there, ain't it? Are ye really okay with somebody stringin 'im up in a tree fer all yer people to see?

[lostlittlebear]

Pius shoots Graydon an exasperated look.

"Look, I'm a realist, okay? Even if they do cut the Prince's head off and stick it on a pike, what are we going to do? Fight our way past the entire Realm army AND Terrestial Exalted to take it down?"

"I dearly wish we could bury our liege properly with the respect he deserves, but we can't. The best way to honor his memory is to keep on living and do SOMETHING, not get ourselves killed trying to be honorable."

"Now shut your trap and get moving. I really REALLY don't feel like dying."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon chuckles and waves his hands.

Alright alright, I was just surprised. A 'realist'... I'll remember your words Pius, and I look forward to seeing them change as time goes on.

His statement of seeing Pius' mindset change sounds more like a promise than a jab at the other man.

[Horatio@Bridge]

The small group turns their back on the battlefield and pushes onward to the northeast. The day presses on heavy and hot, and though Deran's suit helps to regulate his temperature and Daneel's extensive desert training has accustomed him to traveling in these conditions, the rest of the group finds themselves reaching the end of their first water skin before the sun has even reached its zenith. In the wet season they'd be able to refill them from the many rain-swollen streams that cut through these hills, but the war had climaxed in the middle of the dry season. The rain-washed gullies had dried to wind-swept wadis, and the dust and sand kicked up by the group's feet only served to make their thirst worse. Watching Pius tip his waterskin back to extract the last few drops of water, Graydon suddenly realizes how quickly they're going through their stores.

Meanwhile, head addled by the heat, Thiall's mind begins to wander. Scenes of the carnage of the battlefield flash before his eyes, then images from the last few hours before he met the Raiton Man. A face, cold and cruel, fills his vision. The woman would be lovely if it weren't for the long, cruel scar tearing across one eye, leaving a red gaping socket. Her good eye scans Thiall's face, then she exits his field of vision. "He'll do," he hears the woman say to someone else that he can't see. Then the pain begins.

Walking just behind Thiall, Kite is able to catch the courier just as he stumbles. Thiall's face is white and his eyes are wide in panic. For a moment, Kite is afraid that the other man will lash out at him like an injured animal trying desperately to escape. Before Thiall can do anything, though, Aranth steps forward and grasps his right arm firmly, just above the gauntlet. The rough jostling by the other man snaps Thiall out of his haze, and he suddenly registers the presence of the other two men.



Just moving things forward a bit. I apologize for narrating your actions a little bit, but I'm just trying to set the scene. I'm not trying to say what your character are or are not doing, but rather just to establish where they are when the scene begins.

Tyracus, could you give me a Perception + Awareness for Aranth please?

[Justyn]

"H-hey, Thiall, are you okay?"

[nick012000]

Deran pulls out his twin swords, the runes covering them burning red. His feet sliding through the dust as he settles into a combat-ready pose, he scans the surroundings for anyone or anything that might be responsible for Thiall's collapse, or that might be about to take advantage of it.

[lostlittlebear]

"Get the man some water!"

"Graydon, you're a doctor! Do something!"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon stays where he is, looking at Thiall from afar.

If he needs my help, he'll ask for it. Looks like he's fine. Maybe a little dehydrated, but we've all had the same amount of water. He shouldn't be passing out from that. Hells, he's not even wounded, so he better not be.

Graydon takes in a full measure of Thiall visually, and shrugs.

Looks like he had a bit of a scare. I'd say its his business.

[lostlittlebear]

Graydon's apathy infuriates Pius, but restores a measure of calm to his panicked mind.

Good, at least he's not dying.

Dismounting, Pius takes one of his waterbags and hurriedly splashes a small amount of it over Thiall's face.

[Justyn]

"All I have left is some warm pickle juice, Pius. An'... I don't think salty vinegar is going to do him any good."

Thiall was standing on his own now, and Kite loosened his grip and watched as Pius splashed some water on his.

"Or, I could pour it on him; that might cool him down if this is 'cause of the heat."

[Tableface]

Thiall thrashes weakly, either not genuine in his attempts to pull back to himself or too out of it to put any effort in. There's a pulsing pain in his chest and a tingling sensation down his arm, neither of which make thinking clearly easy.

"'M'fin," he slurs, looking like the rest of his body had gone to rubber.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon's brow furrows then. What the hell's his problem? This fellow's too tough to just break down...

Strip him.

Moving toward Thiall and gesturing to the other men and to Thiall, Graydon quickly repeats himself.

Hold him down and remove his armor and shirt.

Graydon brings his medical bag to bear, opening the numerous pockets and bags and watching Thiall carefully.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius follows Graydon's instructions, quickly removing Thiall's shirt and armor.

[Tableface]

Thiall swings his stick at Pius, but whatever strikes he makes lack either the strength or the will to really even bruise Pius. There is a quiet fury and rigidity that accompanies the attempts, witnessed in the glare of indignant hate he throws the man.

"I said I am fine," he reiterates, slowly and much more clear despite the rolling pains coming from his chest.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon ignores Thiall's protests and squats down.

What ye said don't match up with what yer showin' us, Thiall. Somethin's wrong with ye that's beyond the normal.

[Eskil]

Upon hearing the commotion, Daneel starts moving towards it but, seeing that the situation is well in hand, turns his attention to the his dogs, then the noblemans horse, trying to determine how they are managing the heat.

(placeholder; computer-gallery closing, survival+?)
Edit:There.

[Tableface]

An agitated hiss comes from somewhere, as a sudden prismatic glistening around Thiall's wrist reminds of Armus's presence. He jerks his arm out of Aranth's grip, seeming more or less fully recovered from the strange ordeal--or at least recovered enough to be upset and nervous.

"Normal? What do any of us know of normal here?" he asks as he begins to hurriedly recover himself, pausing momentarily to examine the scratches down his chest. "These are not normal circumstances, so forgive me if I'm having some difficulty coping!" He fixes a sunken-eyed glare at none of them in particular as he pulls his sleeve down to cover the smooth, yellow-orange bracer on his left arm--perhaps with a bit too much haste.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon is silent for a moment as he stands, and finally shrugs. If he wants to keep his secrets, so be it. Claiming that yer havin' trouble copin' with things ain't the best cover, though.

If yer havin' trouble copin', ye ought to tell those yer travelin' with, or at least buck up and keep it together.

Probably a drug addiction. He'll shake it off after a while. Gotta admire the stubbornness, at least for a little while.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius shrugs, accepting Thiall's explanation.

"Just don't start on those fainting fits again - you scared me half to death."

[Horatio@Bridge]

Daneel's careful check of the animals shows that they're weathering the heat better than the people are, if only because they're better adapted to the environment. From his memory of this region, there's a small well about a day's travel to the north used by local shepherds. It's a little out of the way, but it would allow the group to refill their water supplies.

[nick012000]

Deran eases back up into a more casual stance as he resheathes his swords.

"Told you guys not to risk pissing off the spirits, because they might just be listening."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon, grateful for a distraction from the disturbing mystery of Thiall's affliction, looks to Deran and shrugs.

Bugger the spirits. Their only power is the power we give 'em by attributin' events to their actions.

He looks down at a rock and gives it a swift kick with his wounded leg, testing it for pain and functionality.

I spent nearly thirty years fightin' in wars. Killin some men and savin others, dependin on whose banner I had sold me sword to. The damned gods and spirits had nothing to do with that.

Graydon looks back up at Deran, and then at the sky.

Let the lazy bastards do what they wish, as long as they don't interfere with me.

[Tableface]

Thiall rubs at his eyes, blinking hard to try and clear his vision. There's a scratchiness in his throat and a dull ache in his joints. "Aren't people your age supposed to be wise?" he asks Graydon. "They had more to do with it than you know, and more than any person would like.

"Do we have much water left?" he abruptly changes the subject. "I would like some, but my comfort needs to come after our survival."

[Trenchfoot]

Not one to ignore an attack, even one quickly sublimated by a follow-on topic, Graydon quips right back to Thiall.

If you get to be my age, then ye'll know fer yerself.

To the rest, he hoists his backpack up on his shoulders and twists his head around, working out the kinks in his neck from the recent hike.

I'll do a little search to get our stocks back up. Anybody who knows anything about the wilderness, come on with.

Alrighty, doin a Survival/Search check to find us some water.

[roll0]

[lostlittlebear]

Pius checks the waterskins, finding little water left.

"There's enough for now, but we'll need more soon. Anyone know where we could get some?"

[Eskil]

We won't find much. The closest source of freshwater is most likely the river, back the way we came. There is a place to the north that we could reach by tomorrow, if we keep our current pace.

Daneel looks at his fellow travellers, then considers the sun, which has not yet reached it's zenith.

Still, we need to find some shade, to rest come high noon, so we might as well check for water while we're looking for that.

I'll come with you.

Survival + Perception looking for water
[roll0]
and again to find a place to rest during the midday sun
[roll1]

[lostlittlebear]

Pius shakes his head.

"We've got to move as a group, even if it takes us longer. I don't want to risk any of us getting cut off and picked off one by one."

"Can you point us towards this watering hole?"

[Horatio@Bridge]

This seems to be a fairly good place to move the game forward.



Between the two of them, the physician and the scout are able to keep the group hydrated using their existing supplies and the occasional succulent found growing in the dry hills. As the day passes toward night, Daneel finds another small cave in the hills where the party can take shelter and even light a fire without the light giving away their position. From this point, they should be able to reach the well shortly after noon the following day.



I'll give you guys a chance to settle down here. The main thing I need is a watch order and some Perception + Awareness checks. If you have more than one person on watch, only have the person with the highest dice pool roll and add one additional die per person on watch.

[Tableface]

"I'll take the midnight watch," Thiall offers as he hobbles into the cave and collapses against a wall. "I need to do my prayers about then."

Preemptive roll; if someone else joins the watch or has a higher Awareness + Perception, just add one to his or mine

[roll0]

[nick012000]

Deran shakes his head at Graydon's response, but holds his tongue. The spirits really are everywhere; practically everything in Creation works because they want it to. His occult learnings are minimal, and even he knows that much.

As night falls, he pipes up again.

"I'll take first watch."

[lostlittlebear]

"I'll share the watch with Deren," Pius adds.

Being near a guy in that suit will make me feel that much safer, too

[Justyn]

"I'll take the last watch... if we're still doing it in three shifts."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon rolls a twig in his mouth, chewing it thoughtfully before volunteering for a watch shift.

I'll take last shift with Kite then.

[Horatio@Bridge]

The evening passes quietly, the stars shining brightly in the firmament with no clouds or city smoke to obscure them. The heat of the day pours itself into the vast openness, and by midnight the men on watch find themselves shivering in the cold. It is one of the oddities of the desert that the land which is so quick to absorb the heat can just as quickly release it back into the sky.

This quiet contemplation of the stars is suddenly interrupted by a scraping sound down the wadi from where the small band is hiding. Something seems to be moving frantically along rocky sands.



This is during second watch, just after Thiall finishes his prayers.

[Tableface]

Thiall wipes dirt off of his forehead as he rises from his knees, done with his prayers. He freezes at the noise, and his eyes dart left and right as a sudden abrupt stab of fear goes through him. He could wake the others--he dearly wants to--but it would be foolish if the source of the sound was just a snake or mole.

Swallowing hard, Thiall slowly begins to inch out towards the noise, trying hard to reassure himself with thoughts of Armus and that he was at least within screaming distance of the others.

What the hell, rolling for Stealth+Dexterity, including mortal penalties.

[roll0]

[Horatio@Bridge]

Moving with every ounce of stealth he is able to muster, Thiall creeps down the wadi toward the source of the noise. Coming to a cluster of rocks, Thiall peaks carefully around the corner. What he sees is something of a surprise. A small lamb has slid to the base of the wadi and is struggling to climb back up the crumbling walls. Sticks and dust mat its fur, and it seems like it has had quite an adventure on its way to this point. Suddenly alerted by something that Thiall missed, the lamb suddenly backs up in fear and begins bleating wildly for help.

[Tableface]

Thiall crouches behind the rocks, slowly loosening the head of his firestick, just in case he has to use it. The scene doesn't look like anything but the usual unsettlingly bloody path of nature, but nature probably wouldn't care if he wanted to sit out participating should it notice him.

[Horatio@Bridge]

As Thiall watches, a dark shapes drops into the wadi from the dry hill above. A coyote, lean and hungry, closes in on the lost lamb. The sheep panics, turning to run, but the coyote is on it in a flash. Blood gouts from the lamb's flank as the coyote's teeth snap and tear at it. The lamb bleats in terror and shoots forward, but soon collapses. The coyote closes in for the kill...suddenly, there's a whir and a thump, and the coyote jumps backwards. Another form leaps out of the darkness, a young shepherd boy with a sling. Leaping in front of the lamb, the shepherd waves his crook at the coyote.

"Hyah, hyah!" he shouts, and the coyote backs away. The coyote moves back and forth, licking the blood on its snout and considering whether or not to try to finish the kill, but then it decides to seek after easier prey. Turning away, it slinks back into the darkness.

Watching for a moment to make sure his charge is safe, the shepherd boy turns back to his lost lamb.

"Oh, dear..." he clucks, his face falling. "Ah, little wool-head, why did you have to go wandering off?" He bends down next to the little creature, speaking softly to calm it while he inspects its wounds.



The boy's shouting is probably enough to wake people back at the camp.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius wakes up with a start, flailing around him wildly.

"Guards! Guards! It's a night attack! Derek, to the gate! Jon-"

Blinking hard, he finally takes stock of his surroundings and calms down.

"Sorry guys, I heard a shout and thought I was still in the camp. Who shouted? And who's on watch?"

[Justyn]

Though the shepherd's yell roused him, it was Pius' yelling that finally woke up Kite. Yawning, he spoke.

"Izzit my turn for watch already?"

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon is up in an instant, spitting some dirt he had apparently eaten during a vivid dream during the night.

Whurren da floose!?

He spits some more.

Whats the problem?!

[Eskil]

...Hyah, hyah!...
Whu'? Wha'?
...no alarm. Back to slee-
...Grmerph?...
Oh, no. Sleep dog.

...night attack!...
Attack! Wake up.

His actions precise and deliberate, Daneel forces his body to wake and his mind to focus. He rises slowly trying to take in his surroundings.

All three of the dogs have started barking now. Quiet!, he barks back at them.


"Sorry guys, I heard a shout and thought I was still in the camp. Who shouted? And who's on watch?"
Thiall I think.

[Tableface]

Thiall retightens the head of his firestick and does his best to slink away from the scene; no sense in alerting more people than necessary that a group of war survivors were headed through the area, both for their sake and the sake of anyone who might see them. Hopefully the noise didn't wake his fellows--though would having them be heavy sleepers in this situation be better?

Not sure if I need to roll again for Stealth, but just in case here's another roll.

[roll0]

[Horatio@Bridge]

The shepherd is too preoccupied with his lost lamb to notice Thiall quietly slipping away, but Pius's shout cannot fail to catch his attention. He motions for the lamb to remain calm while he turns to investigate.

"Hello? Who's there?"

His hand goes to his sling as he advances toward the pile of rocks where Thiall was hiding.

[nick012000]

Deran snaps awake at the shout of "night attack", springing to his feet and unsheathing his blades in one smooth motion, their runes glowing red in the darkness of night. His eyes scan the surroundings, piercing through the darkness to see that Thiall is missing.

He flickers out of sight as his camouflage activates; he darts off around the camp, looking for any sign of Thiall or the enemy, one with the shadow of the night.

[Tableface]

Thiall screams an expletive inside his head, realizing that his associates are all probably awake and bound to come running down here before he has a chance to get back and tell them to not. Sighing, he tucks his stick under his arm and comes out of hiding, holding his hands up placatingly.

"Just a traveler, boy. Pardon if I made you nervous."

[Horatio@Bridge]

The shepherd looks down the wadi past Thiall toward where Pius shouted.

"Are you refugees? There have been a lot of people fleeing the civil war, especially since the fighting came close to Arsuf."

[Tableface]

Thiall forces a smile. He can work with this; refugee is better than deserter, after all.

"Perceptive of you to notice. Yes, several of us thought it would be prudent to relocate in the face of unpleasantness."

[Horatio@Bridge]

The young boy nods, his posture relaxing.

"Well, then, you're lucky I found you. This area isn't really safe for refugees. One of the mercenary bands that used to fight for the Prince has taken this area over. It's not too bad for the locals as long as we have food and supplies to give to them, but they've been capturing refugees and making them into slaves...or worse."

He tucks his sling into his belt and steps forward with a hand extended.

"I'm Daud. My family doesn't live far from here. If you and your group will come with me, we can probably get you to safety before the sun comes up. My mother will know how to slip you out of here without the mercenaries knowing you were even here." He smiles, seemingly eager to pull one over on the mercenaries who'd been oppressing his people.

[Tableface]

Thiall takes Daud's hand, giving it a stiff shake. "I'll go and get the others, then. We narrowly escaped some marauders in our flight, so forgive them if they seem a bit... haggard." He turns and heads back up the hill, trying his best to not seem too overeager.

Thiall swallows his fear. Mercenaries--ones that used to work for the Prince, even. There was a bitter pill to swallow, especially with news of their practices.

Thiall approaches and squats in the mouth of the cave, calling out to those inside. "Friends, fortune may have delivered us a safer alternative than our initial plan. Strip away and hide whatever symbols of the Prince and his army you may have; they could prove less-than-auspicious." He describes Daud and his offer. Then he thinks for a minute. "And tell Deran--where ever he is--to stay out of sight."

[Horatio@Bridge]

The small group sets out, with Deran following in the shadows. A quick sweep had confirmed that the boy was alone, and Deran's magitech enhanced senses probed the darkness ahead to ensure that the boy was not leading them into a trap. A small encampment came into view near dawn, and Deran retired into the foothills to keep watch. The camp is already busy as men and women, mostly either too young or too old to fight, move around feeding animals and attending to other camp chores.

Daud rushes into the encampment, excited to introduce the refugees he'd
"saved" to his family.

"Mother, come quick! I found some people, refugees from Arsuf! I told them about the mercenaries, and that you'd be able to get them away without the mercenaries knowing."

A tall woman, her hair pulled back into a functional ponytail, stands from where she was squatted to milk a goat. When she turns to face you, you see that she has only one arm...the other is missing below the elbow.

"That was kind of you, Daud. Now, why don't you take that lamb there to Lina and have his wounds looked at."

Daud pauses at his dismissal, clearly wanting to stay and see what happens with the newcomers, but then nods and rushes off. His mother turns back to the group, her sharp eyes scanning them cautiously, noting their relative youth, fitness, and fighting gear.

"Refugees, you say...hmf. Well, times are hard, and there are many who've lost their homes and livelyhoods to this war. As long as you're willing to help out here and abide by the laws of hospitality, we will help you find a safe place away from mercenaries and armies, wherever you may have come from originally. I am Jana. Welcome to our home.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius bows to Jana.

"Thank you, madame. We shall not trouble you for long - we are on a journey and expect to be moving off soon."

[Horatio@Bridge]

Jana nods. "My husband Halim is preparing breakfast at the center of the camp. You are welcome to join us."

As the group begins to file away, Jana steps forward and stops Graydon.

"Are you the one who tended the lamb's wounds? May I speak with you a moment?"

[Horatio@Bridge]

As the group leaves Jana, Daud is quick to rejoin them.

"I told you my mother would be able to help! You can count on us! We herdsmen always keep our word. We haven't forgotten the old ways or the strictures of Elim...we will do all we can to protect the powerless!"

Suddenly, Daud notices Kite's high quality weaponry. His eyes widen.

"Whoa! I didn't see those before! You must be really rich to afford weapons like that! Did you used to be a noble before you had to flee the war?"

[Horatio@Bridge]

Once she is alone with Graydon, Jana's posture stiffens.

"I do not know if you remember me from the hundreds of wounded you treated on the battlefield, but I will never forget the face of the man who took my arm."

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon looks at the woman, calmly considering her choice of words.

I remember your face, Jana Sad'un... or are you still a Sad'un now?

Graydon looks toward the center of camp, briefly wondering if Halim knew who his wife truly was. He looks back at her arm then, surprised that he had the chance to see the end-result of work from several years ago.

As I recall Jana, I did not take your arm... Instead, I remember you exchanged it for something more worthwhile.

[Horatio@Bridge]

Jana looks after her son. "Yes, it was definitely much more worthwhile. I just wish I'd realized that at the time. When you found me on the battlefield, I'd lost all will to live. Death seemed pleasant. That...thing attached to me robbed me of my volition. I thought at the time it was meant to torture me, drive me to suicide...but looking back on it, I think it was meant to destroy me on a more fundamental level and make me a true monster. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't found me.

In any case, by the time I was coherent your unit had already moved on. I never got the chance to thank you for the work you did, and I never thought I would be able to. In times like these, the laws of hospitality can bring ruin, especially when you take in armed soldiers. But you saved my life, and for that the least I can do is try to save yours. I guess your companions are just lucky to have come with you." She grins.

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon nods and smiles.

'And if your right hand offends you, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for you whole body to go into hell.' I said this to you after you passed into unconsciousness. I couldn't stay to make sure you survived... I am glad you did.

He begins to walk with her toward the others, speaking softly as he does so.

They don't know the truths of my past Jana... Just as I imagine your husband may not know yours. Let's keep both secrets as they are, yes?

[Horatio@Bridge]

Jana nods. "I thought that might be the case. They did a good job stripping their insignia, but they still walk like soldiers, and it's rare to see soldiers as refugees. Something bad must have happened for a whole group of you to have fled this far, and if that's the case your respective pasts probably don't have much meaning any more."

The pair of old warhorses reaches the center of the camp. "I hope you saved a bit of that porridge, Halim. I'm starving!"



I'm going to go ahead and skip ahead a few days to get to the action, since I think we've had enough prelude to this point. Assume that enough time passes for any wounds from the battle to heal. I'll post that this afternoon.

[Horatio@Bridge]

Several days pass in relative quietude. The shepherds know the dry foothills well and pass easily from one water source to another. True to Daud's word, the wells are now guarded by a group of mercenaries flying the banner of the Black Swallow, but Jana keeps the group hidden while a smaller group of shepherds goes to deliver tribute and collect water. It seems almost as if the group will pass through the Black Swallow's territory without incident when a dust cloud appears on the horizon behind the clan of shepherds. Jana pauses to look back at the cloud, then curses.

"Mercenary outriders," she calls back to the camp. She strides into camp near Graydon. "They don't usually bother to leave the wells. If they've gone through the effort of chasing us down, they're probably looking for something specific." She looks at the group significantly. "I doubt it's going to be enough to stand out of site. They'll probably search the camp for whatever they're looking for. What do you want to do?"

[lostlittlebear]

Pius shakes his head firmly.

"Nothing - if they don't bother us, we won't bother them. But I say we get our weapons ready, just in case."

Dear god, please don't put me through this again...

[Trenchfoot]

Graydon sighs deeply and casts his crutch aside, no longer needing its support.

"That... is a mop-up crew. Empire-funded and tasked with exterminating any significant remnants of the enemy Army. They're mercenaries all right, and they're definitely lookin' for trouble."

He looks at Jana, and then back to the camp.

"I can't be positive, but I trust my hunches. Jana... Will those Black Swallow boys hold true to their tribute? Is it a protection racket, or just plain thievery?"

[Horatio@Bridge]

Jana shakes her head.

"I wouldn't trust this scum further than I can throw them. They're not the type to hold to agreements if it's more profitable to break them, especially to folks like us. I don't know why they're here, but any agreements we've had aren't going to stop them from taking it."

It occurs to Graydon that the situation is likely worse than Jana knows. With the Prince defeated, the chaos that allowed these mercenaries to carve out their own fiefdom is coming to an end. They'll have to pull up stakes and move out before Marwan gets organized enough to force them out, and they'll likely take whatever last dregs they can get from their erstwhile subjects.

[lostlittlebear]

Pius blanches slightly as he thinks through their situation.

"Is there a way we could run? Someplace to hide where we could avoid a confrontation?"

[Tableface]

Thiall clutches his walking stick tightly, nervously wringing it in his hands.

"We," he casts an apologetic look at Pius and Graydon, "should probably stay here to meet them while the rest of you continue on. If they want something more from you, they shouldn't have it, and if you don't have what they want then there's no sense in your being delayed by them." He swallows hard. "We can try to find out why they're here."

Thiall glances back at the approaching cloud, and suppresses a shiver. "Um, if you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate some incense, if you have it."

[Horatio@Bridge]

Jana looks at Thiall oddly. "Incense is rather expensive for we poor shepherds. We have some, but...actually, now is not the time to be stingy. Those bandits will probably just steal it anyway." She sends one of her children running to get the incense. They come running back about a minute later, a small bag in hand.

[Trenchfoot]

Having finally worked some of the kinks out of his leg, Graydon makes his way to the edge of the hill and turns back.

If we flee this, either one or both of those groups are going to ruin these shepherds. You are all free men, and will do as you wish. I'm going to stall the Black Swallow boys down there until those mercs show up. We'll see what happens next.

With that, he begins to hustle down to the Black Swallow men.


Approaching them, going to talk to them and hold them for as long as I can. I want the mercenaries to arrive while the Black Swallow gang is still there. Not sure what's going to happen, but if the dice are going to roll, let's roll a lot of them!

[lostlittlebear]

Pius moans, caught between his conscience and cowardice. Wavering, he is about to turn tail and flee when he remembers the battle that had brought him there in the first place. His men had died screaming, lost, helpless, without a leader, all because he had abandoned them to the vagrancy of war.

Never again.

Sighing, Pius turns to the assembled shepherds.

"Look, I'm no hero, but I can tell you that running isn't going to do you any good. If what you say about the bandits is true, then they are just going to hunt you down anyway."

"The only way you are going to survive is if you resist."

"And I can tell you how, if you're willing to stand by me."

[Tableface]

Thiall stares between the departing Graydon and Pius. "Oh Mars, they're both trying to be leaders."

Making hasty and stiff stopping signals, Thiall begins to whisper angrily to Pius. "Did you lose sense when you gained courage? Trying to incite a bunch of shepherds--one of them missing an arm--to violence against an armed and better-trained force that may not be hostile could be a bad idea for everyone!"

Tying the pouch of incense to his sash, he continues. "Save it for when we have people who can afford to throw their lives away, and for when we actually need to. I have a plan, and if it doesn't work we'll end up falling back on that anyway--assuming we're alive to be defended and that we're actually worth it." He momentarily eyes the shepherds, and keeps his voice low. "Don't forget that these people may be coming for us."

[Justyn]

Kite was still wearing the asbestos gloves and apron over top woolen trousers and shirt and thick leather boots when he left the makeshift smithy that he and some others had set up over the last few days to work the local hematite and siderite that formed in the local sandstone, along with recollecting scavenged iron.

"I heard a commotion, I though I heard..." Kite paused as Jana explained the situation to him. "Okay, so Graydon and Pius went off to meet the bandits. Let me get changed into my armor." Kite turned around to go, and after a few steps, turned around again and spoke to Jana.

"Oh, I should also let you know, I've made couple of sword and axe blades from the iron that we've been smelting for the last few days, only two of each; I made most of it into nails and a couple of pans. They're not all that good, and they need to be sharpened, but they can do. I also have about two dozen sword blades with the edges pounded off, we could probably sharpen the tips and tie them to poles to make some pikes if it comes right down to it. But we would really need a couple hours for that, and I bet we only have a few minutes. Anyway, lemme get changed."

[lostlittlebear]

Pius whispers angrily back to Thiall.

"You think I want to fight?! If you have a plan to stop this battle by all means use it. But IF we fail in our plans I am not going to watch defenseless, leaderless people get slaughtered like sheep without a plan or means to defend themselves."

"You do what you want - let me at least tell them what to do if we fail."

[Tableface]

"I think slaughtering these people would run contrary to the tribute scheme they have set up," Thiall explains--slowly--to Pius. "If you want to interpose innocent people between us and our choices, at least try to not convince yourself it's for their sake."

Thiall stalks off after Graydon, clearly muttering "coward" under his breath.

[lostlittlebear]

"The shepherds themselves don't even believe the mercenaries will hold true to their contracts. I see no harm in teaching them how to fight - as insurance."

Shrugging off Thiall's insult - he's heard too many by now to care - Pius turns back to the shepherds to see how many are willing to follow him in his scheme.

[Eskil]

"I'll cover them in case it comes to hostilities."
Moving along easily overlooked depressions in the landscape to a good covering positon, Daneel readies his bow.

[Horatio@Bridge]

Tick 1: Kite
Tick 3: Pius
Tick 4: Daneel
Tick 5: Mercenary Leader
Tick 6: Thiall, Graydon, Mercenaries (-2 penalty to first action because of exhaustion from long ride), Kite
Tick 8: Pius
Tick 11: Thiall, Graydon, Mercenary Leader



--Kite and Pius, Tick 1 and 3, Rally/Arm the shepherds, Speed 5--

Halim walks up and puts his hand on Jana's shoulder, clearly concerned. Daud whoops at Pius's words, though, and races after Kite to arm himself.

"Daud, wait!" Jana snaps, then turns back to Pius. "I don't want to provoke the mercenaries by coming before them armed, but I don't want to be caught unawares if they decide to attack us. Do you have a plan that will work with those constraints?"



Lost, roll Charisma + War to implement your defense plan. I'm going to let the strength of your ideas count for the quality of the plan, but this is a matter of organizing the shepherds to follow your plan effectively.

Kite, roll Intelligence + Craft to see the quality of your weapons. It won't count for a success toward the challenge as a whole, but will grant a bonus to any rolls made in regards to armed conflict, or the threat of armed conflict.



--Daneel, Tick 4, Establishing a Sniper Post, Speed 5--

Daneel takes cover in a few rocks, his animals hiding nearby. The position is on top of a small rise, and will be difficult to reach on horseback.



Eskil, please make a Dexterity + Stealth roll to set up your sniper post.



--Thiall and Graydon, the Mercenary Leader, Tick 5/6, Parley, Speed 5--

The mercenary leader sees Thiall and Graydon moving away from the camp and speeds up to meet them. His sharp, beady eyes look over the two men, then toward the shepherd's camp.

"You're new here," he rasps, throat thick with sand and dust. "Where's Jana?"

[Tableface]

Thiall takes a deep breath, and seems to become another person. His back straightens, a slightly-arrogant smirk crosses his face, and his eyes harden. Apparently the possibility of imminent death does a lot for his confidence--after all, if he messes up what else does he really have to lose?"

"See, I told you they'd be here," he remarks to Graydon, elbowing him in the side and favoring him with a look that pleads for him to play along. "And you doubted the crystal-casting."

Thiall now turns his attention to the mercs, his face much less jovial. "Keeping the others ready to go. The better question is, do you know how much koku you're costing me by this delay? Why are you wasting our time?"

Trying to catch the merc leader off-guard by presenting an air of importance. I'm going with Charisma + Performance, but if you want me to roll something else I can in the OOC thread.

[roll0]

Edit: darnit, I rolled an extra die; confused his Appearance and Charisma scores in my head. I can roll again if preferred

[lostlittlebear]

Pius nods.

"What I have in mind should work fine within those constraints. Trust me, a fight's the last thing I want."

"First, I need anyone who knows how to use a bow or a sling to get their weapons and report back here."

"Next, I need the rest of you to start gathering tent pegs, oil, dry grass, rope and all the livestock you can find. Don't take too long, meet me back here in 15 minutes."

"Kite, I need to you to make 8-foot long pikes. Don't bother with armor right now, just churn out as many pikes as you can - nothing fancy, just a sturdy wooden pole sharpened to a point. Take as many assistants as you need. If you have any metal left over, start making caltrops. They'll be far more useful than a few extra breastplates."

Casting his eye around the camp, Pius attempts to search for a good defensible position, somewhere with a chokepoint that the shepherds can bar against cavalry attack. Failing which, he'll settle for the summit of the highest foothill.

[Horatio@Bridge]

Tick 6: Kite, Graydon
Tick 8: Pius
Tick 9: Daneel, Mercenaries
Tick 10: Mercenary Leader
Tick 11: Thiall, Graydon

To adjudicate thus far: 5 successes for Kite, 4 for Thiall, 1 for Pius and Daneel, Graydon seems to be taking a Delay action.

Since Pius and Daneel only rolled 1 success each, they accumulate a failure. Daneel's post also has a problem which will impose a -2 External Penalty to a future check. Thiall accumulates 1 success, and Kite grants a +2 bonus to any future combat rolls. You guys are 1:1 currently. Remember, you can cancel failures.



--Daneel--

Daneel races for his sniper post, but it seems as if he's been spotted. A trio of mercenaries splits off from the main group and heads toward him. It doesn't look like he'll be able to find safety in the rocks before the horsemen reach him. There's a less secure position nearby, or he can try to dash for the better position and risk being cut off by the horsemen.

--Mercenaries, Tick 6, Dash, Speed 3, DV -2--

The sudden burst of activity in the camp and the Daneel's movement catch the mercenary leader's attention. He waves for a few of his followers to join him, but gestures for the remaining mercenaries to proceed to the camp.

"Find out what they're up to," he growls. "I don't like the looks of this...

When his two cohorts gather around him, he turns his attention back to Thiall and Graydon.

"You're no Swallow I know, and Captain Armus didn't mention that we had anyone traveling under our protection in this area. I don't know what you were thinking you were doing in this area, but nobody does business here without paying the proper fees."



Kite and Graydon are up. Mercenaries are entering the camp, and they'll spot your arms unless you do something to hide them or otherwise distract them. A Dexterity + Stealth roll would be the obvious roll in order to physically hide them, but you can do something else if you think of it. Remember that the mercenaries are winded from their long ride, so the first roll they make is at a -2 penalty (alternatively, the difficulty of the first roll against them is at -1 difficulty).

[lostlittlebear]

Did Pius find any of the areas he was looking for?

[Horatio@Bridge]

Pius glances over the hill nearby, and spots a promising area about half way up the rise. The rocky soil is loose in that location, making a cavalry charge perilous for the unprepared.

[Justyn]

"Alright everyone, I'm back." Kite said, tucking his sword into his belt as he entered the area of the makeshift forge. "How's it going?"

"Not too bad." One of the three said, it was Melka, a orphan girl of about 14.

"Right," Kite said as Melka handed him one of the makeshift spears. "This looks good enough, but I need to test somethin':" With a quick movement, Kite flipped the spear down and stabbed the ground with it.

"What are you..."

Kite ignored Melka and looked at the wooden shaft for a moment. "Good. It holds up well enough; these'll work." Flipping the spear again, he places the butt of the weapon on the ground. "How many are done?"

Yon, a large man in his late twenties who had been lamed in his childhood spoke up, he had been the blacksmith of a small community before most of the men were conscripted, and it had be abandoned when the war came to them. "Fourteen, but we've only been able to sharpen the tips."

"That'll be enough, don't worry, we need okay spears now, not perfect spears tomorrow."

"I hope so, kiddo, I hope so."

"Okay, now lets get these to everyone who is willing to fight."

OOC: I knew something has been wrong: I've been forgetting to take my Prozac. :smalleek:

[lostlittlebear]

Noting down the position of the hill, Pius waits for the villagers he has commandeered to return.