Sanctuaries Overrun- Proper Game

[CyganAngel]

The adventurers are at the gate of Iengard, a town bordering the Wilderness.

In their hands, each holds a letter with their task on it.

Dear Adventurers,

I am sorry to have to ask this of you. But you very well may be our last chance.

We need you to go out and investigate the goblins nearby. They're starting to really test our defences. I'm worried about what may happen if we don't deal with the problem now.

May Heironous look after you. Come back safely.

[Wizibirb]

Alton stood near the meeting place, he was flanked by two guards which only seemed to accentuate his miniature height. He stood there the manacles keeping him in place, a look of distraught horror plastered on his face... Everything had been finally going his way, why had his ego gotten the better of him? He wished that he could go back in time and undo his mistake, but at least they had not given him the gallows... Though it still seemed like a death sentence.

[kladams707]

Cade stood there, attempting to look friendly to the others. However, he did not speak. He merely looked on, awaiting their journey. He noticed Alton, another small being, only manacled and guarded by two taller people. He merely shrugged, but did not dare approach. Cade was quite unsure why the being was manacled, and while a bit curious, was not in a hurry to find out. A smile was upon this halflings face, though it seemed forced, as if trying to look friendly to the others.

[GFawkes]

Goblins: the second lowest thing on the food chain, just above kobolds. Sure, I didn't mind slaying them, but did they have to pair me up with so many non-humans? I haven't trusted them since that one time. Ah well. I'll need a few scapegoats incase things get ugly.

[Land Outcast]

Near the town, in a small but stout house, Farakas is already clad in his armor, he has gathered everything he'll need for the mission, and has awakened the man who had been working with him in the small parcel of land.

Everything had been planned, Farakas will leave for indefinite time, but the house, the land and the forge (the animals were lost in the repeated raids) are left in care of his apprentice of the last nine years to tend and profit from.
The fire of the forge is kindled, and a worker for Moradin melts a golden piece in its heat as an offering to the All Father.

Farakas leaves that which was his home towards the front gate of Iengard. And with the first fiery lights of day the black-bearded dwarf arrives to the rendezvous point, the dull splint mail rustling with his every step.

He surveys the gathered group, his dark blue eyes passing over each in turn, the three younger humans with leather armor, the other human, and the two halflings, he stares for a couple of seconds at the manacled one.

Standing in the path in front of them, Farakas makes a slight bow and says:
Well met ye all! Me name is Farakas, Axe of tha All-Father, and am here to shed black goblin blood by yer side.

Meanwhile, or after he's been answered, Farakas walks close to the guards, looks up to one of them and asks away:
Sir! what does this mean -he motions towards the manacled halfling- is tha jargh in league with tha goblins? will he lead us to thar lair?

[journeyman]

The young man with the silver hair glances around nervously and looks like he wants to say something, but can't quite work up the courage yet. So he busies himself making one more check of his arms and armor. Despite the peg leg that clearly slows him down, he's carrying an impressive arsenal. The longsword he pulls from a battered leather sheath is freshly sharpened and oiled, if clearly little used from the lack of nicks on the edge. The longspear across his back is carved from sturdy oak, as is his heavy wooden shield in the round nordic style. The silver dragon painted on it is no great work of art, but a credible effort for an amatuer with time to kill. It too shows little sign of use in combat. The simple leather of a common sling is tucked into his belt next to the pouch of bullets to feed it. Like his sling, the studded leather he wears is of a pale shade, possibly bleached for some reason. It alone of his gear looks well used and comfortable on him. Despite the cool of the morning, he's already loosening his monk-style linen tunic and keeping to the shade.

When the dwarf breaks the awkward silence, he sighs with relief and returns a half-bow from one knee, the better to match his new companion's height. The boy's (for such he must seem to the much older dwarf) voice is melodic but makes a good effort at the proper depth and intonation of the dwarven tongue. He speaks first in dwarven and then repeats himself in common for courtesy's sake (and in case he got a word wrong in the dwarven :smallwink:)

"Hail and well met, Farakas, Axe of tha All-Father. I am Stephen, called Silverhair, son of Garrik the Iceblood, Skald of the Frostreaver Clan. I look forward to standing beside you on the field of victory."

(He'll exchange similar pleasantries with anyone else that cares to introduce themselves and listen with interest to anything the guards say, but otherwise keeps to himself unless someone speaks to him or asks a question he might be able to answer.)

[Wizibirb]

Alton looked around at the 'volunteers'... He wondered why ANYONE would willingly 'volunteer' for this suicide mission. He ignored the awful looks he seemed to be getting for everyone and instead focused on trying to get more comfortable in the damn manacles.

He gave the one who called himself 'Farakas' a truly horrible look, and let loose a few choice words in his native tongue. Glaring at the man, how dare he think that Alton would ever help the goblins....

"I'm no traitor, any more than your heathen god." A small smug smile of satisfaction on his face.

He looked at Stephen who had just introduced himself and sighed... He was doomed.

[kladams707]

Cade begins to introduce himself, but no sooner does he open his mouth Farakas approaches the guards. While he himself was unsure of the manacled humanoid, he felt it quite unfair to be judged so. A slight tremble could be heard in his timidly small voice as he spoke. "Name's Cade Tosscobble. This prisone...no, this person's reaction was justified, despite it possibly being over the top. We'll all need to cooperate, and neither accusations nor knee-jerk reactions are going to help."

[journeyman]

Though no stranger to shouted greetings many other cultures consider impolite, the sudden vitriol shocks the quiet bard. It is not an uncommon practice in the north for defeated enemies to serve as indentured thralls for a time. Perhaps naively, he had thought the small man to be such. The verbal onslaught seemed to contradict any thought of this being an honorable duty for the halfling. Was he then a criminal? Perhaps he was a thief. The small folk were known for such misdeeds after all. More interesting was the tongue he spoke. Though fluent in the dwarven and elven languages, the sheltered skald had met few of Yondalla's children and was unaware that they had a language of their own.

...Then the little man looked his way and sighed in resignation. Maybe the halfling was some kind of hunter after all. Certainly the hunting parties the northman knew well had always responded the same way any time he asked to be counted among their number.

"Greetings to you, Cade Tosscobble. I respect your words and mean not to interfere, but isn't the question's intent more important that any scrapping among ourselves? How are we going to find the goblin lair? Their kind are well known for being devious little sneaks. They could hide in any number of burrows and caves. We need a scout's report at least, if not a guide who has been there in person."

[kladams707]

Cade looks on at the bard and considers his words. Slowly, he nodded, realizing perhaps he didn't think his words through all the way. I must admit, I've never been good with words. It was just my attempt to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand," his said with a soft tone. "Perhaps that should be your job though," he quipped with a nervous laugh.

[Land Outcast]

Well, there sure is some value in this boy... The dwarf shows himself pleased by the respect from Stephen, and nods respectfully in reply. He's too much used to living among humans who don't give due respect to others or even to each other.

"We shall, son of Garrik, I say goblins won't allow a day to pass without tha opportunity fer victory."

---

Farakas ignores the words from the prisioner, he doesn't even look at him. The dwarf just waits for a reply from the guards...

"Name's Cade Tosscobble. This prisone...no, this person's reaction was justified, despite it possibly being over the top. We'll all need to cooperate, and neither accusations nor knee-jerk reactions are going to help."

Farakas turns towards the small halfling who kept to the background "Well met, master Tosscobble" and asks politely "tha manacles might have deceived me. Be this boy yer charge then?"


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[kladams707]

The halfling looks up at the dwarf, he just shrugs. No, no he isn't. Though... Cade turns to Alton and sighs, thinking to himself Really? I'm the one that has to ask this? Please, forgive my directness but...what...what are you doing in those manacles?

[Private-Prinny]

"The name's Maxwell. Just call me Max." Max, too, glances over to the shackled halfling. "Hm... I wonder who makes their shackles... Making them strong enough can be a challenge."

[Hefty Lefty]

A young woman aimlessly walks the city streets. The wind today is akin to any other in its physical nature, however the wisps of whatever deity blows upon the earth's surface today decides to twist the girl's fate upon its head. In a heap of sand and dust, a tattered parchment blows onto her legs. She bends down to pick it up, a bit wobbly from the flask she has been sipping from since early this morning. Last chance? she reads to herself, searching the letter for a signature or an address, without success. Adventurers? Goblins? Despite her lack of adventuring prowess whatsoever, the girl comes to the realization that this can't possibly be the only letter of its kind, if the request is to be fulfilled, and that any company at all is better than the loneliness that has been plaguing her for as long as she can remember. Picking up the parchment and rereading as she walks, one careful foot in front of the other, she searches the city for a gathering of adventuring-type people.

Eventually, she approaches a group of men - humans, a dwarf, and one ferocious chained halfling. The letter rest still in her dainty left hand. In comparison, her body structure simply cannot match these burly men; she knows she must be in the right place. Her touched-up makeup, her gentle face, clean, soft hair is in stark contrast to the men's various battle wounds. Her garb: a pure white dress, short and with light blue trimmings, looks nothing like the rough steel or leather armor the men sport. She observes the crowd for a short moment before quickly capping her flask and sheathing it in her hip-side pocket before, she hopes, anyone had seen it. Her bright blue eyes dart around the circle. The only thing that may connect her with these men is the fact that she, too, is armed. Two shining short swords are sheathed at her hips. "So guys," her words are light and airy, with a mild drawl on the ends, "am I late for the party?"

[GFawkes]

Sventir steps in.

"So what's the plan for these goblins? A basic track-and-slash?" he suggests, sizing up the team. They'd need help and a little more teamwork, but nothing too hard.

[Land Outcast]

Farakas hears master Tosscobble's question to the manacled halfling, he just waits for any kind of answer... For certain he isn't willing to take along a prisioner who he knows nothing about.

------------

The dwarf looks at Sventir and starts proposing some ideas, discussing with Sventir about how this could or couldn't work... "I think... I think we should track them and explore tha area, there's tha arcanist's tower, and we must find tha secondary exits and all, those warrens are oversized antmounds..."
But light steps and an airy voice interrupt him:

"So guys, am I late for the party?"

Farakas was already pretty caught up in the planning and is startled by her sudden appearing, he thought the hunting party was complete. But immediately he makes a more pronounced bow than before, and answers
"The sun hasn't finished his wake and we have barely introduced ourselves, lady. I am Farakas, Axe of the All-Father." while clasping a wooden amulet featuring an anvil and a hammer.



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[Wizibirb]

The halfling looks up at the dwarf, he just shrugs. No, no he isn't. Though... Cade turns to Alton and sighs, thinking to himself Really? I'm the one that has to ask this? Please, forgive my directness but...what...what are you doing in those manacles?

Alton smirked, Well, to be honest, I was caught in the wrong house... If you catch my drift. As to why I am chained, two main reasons. One so that all of you can keep your purses. Two so that I don't leg it home like any sane person would. Seriously, you guys know this is a suicide mission right? Why do you think they are sending us instead of oh, lets say the army? He sighed... Not that I have a choice anyways.

[journeyman]

Even his poor vision can scarcely miss the new arrival. Perhaps unfortunately for him, that same lack does make it seem as if the northerner is staring at her. Given her more prominent characteristics, this may be taken either very well or very poorly, depending on the lady's temperament. Still, the befuddled bard manages to return her greeting with a minimum of tripping over his own tongue.

The studious young man finally snaps out of it when he hears a question. He answers reflexively, without even realizing that the query might have been rhetorical "The army is occupied defending the city, a task too large for our small band. Besides, they probably have no experience moving or fighting outside their walls and streets." there is a certain sense of condescension in the clansma's voice for those who spend their entire lives covering behind stone walls. He continues with an enthusiasm that is perhaps a bit naive. A small group with experience in overland travel has the best chance of getting in and out scouting, while a mixed group such as this may have the unique skills to adapt to the situation as we find it. It isn't suicidal at all. If nothing else, goblins are small, weak, and cowardly. No matter their numbers, they will break in the face of superior strength.

It takes a moment for the thought to sink in that his characterization of goblins might just as easily apply to the very person to whom the erudite expositioner was talking. Uh...no offense intended. I'm sure that any hin is more than a match for a goblin. Stephen doesn't actually sound so confident, but he's so earnest about it that calling him a liar would be like kicking a puppy. :smallfrown:

[Hefty Lefty]

Her gaze, wandering around the group, had skipped over the dwarf. When she finally fixes her sight upon him, she is not impressed. His unclean hair and frayed, braided beard is disgusting. Not to mention the fact that he's shorter than her. She mutters a quick "Hi" before looking to the next man. He is a human, at least, but not much better. He sports a head of silver, aged hair (at least in the mind of this naive young woman), a peg leg, and a quivering, boyish voice. This group doesn't do much to impress. Again, she gives a half-hearted greeting before locking her gaze on the ranger. She approaches him, letter still in hand. "Hey there stranger," she says, batting her eyelashes, "the name's Riley." Her accent would make one believe her name was pronounced "Raleigh." "You seem ta be in charge around here. Is it you ah can thank for this lettah?" She places one light hand upon his arm before raising the other one to show the tattered parchment.

[GFawkes]

Sventir turns to face Riley.
"I wish. I'm just as confused about this letter as you are. But hey, I'll take any opportunity to get out of this city. I'm Sventir, by the way."

Turning to face the group as a whole, he states loudly "We'd better get moving. The longer we wait, the more prepared the goblins are."

[Land Outcast]

"Doh!..." mutters the armored dwarf as he returns to Silverhair, Cade, and the manacled halfling.

Farakas is unsure wether Stephen is over his head on this... particularly paying attention to his equipment... But liking the young man at a first impression, and seeing him as his best chance for support, he continues:
"Indeed, the son of Garrik speaks true: this hunting party should prove enough ta cleanse a goblin swarm... they are crafty though, and we shan't want ta fall in thar pits and traps."

It seems like he's finished but then adds: "Then there's tha mar goblins, those will prove a challenge... perhaps a danger" saying this, for a moment the hard face twists into a grimace, and he is silent...
"But fer tha anvil of Moradin that we shall prevail!"

As an afterthought, Farakas looks in the manacled halfling in the eyes for the first time and says:
"Halfling, I did not know ye were set on repaying yer debt ta society... I shall make sure ye can do so." (and that's as close as Farakas might come to an apology).

@Dwarven speakers"Doh" = Fool
"mar goblins" = "large goblins" (bugbears)

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[Land Outcast]

"We'd better get moving. The longer we wait, the more prepared the goblins are."

The human might not have respect for others, just says his name when a possible mate comes by... but he's direct and pragmatic, and looks like he's seen battle before, he'll make a good companion...

"Aye lad, we can start from me house, 'tis in tha outskirts of town and has seen its share of goblin raids" saying this he motions towards a thin column of black smoke rising from a structure about a kilometer away. "shall we?"


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[Hefty Lefty]

The stiff ranger barely pays attention to her company; he is completely focused on the task at hand. The young Riley grows increasingly anxious and concerned with the words being tossed around so nonchalantly. Goblin swarms? She shivers at the thought. Through her loose knowledge of the dwarven coarse tongue, she realizes the stout man is worried about a pack of bugbears. She had never actually seen one, only heard about it in stories. Usually stories that did not end well.

The young woman takes another swig from her flask and doesn't care who sees. She winces silently from the burn of the vodka. Alcohol has always comforted her in a way no person has. The intense burn is the closest to a warm hug she has ever known. The intoxicated stupor is the only pep talk she's ever had, and her night-to-night black-outs are her bed time stories.

The walls seem to be crashing down around her as she realizes these men are completely serious about their near-suicidal trip. Riley spies the city gate wide open behind the halfling's back. Had she wanted to return to the city, she easily could have. But what would she flee to? The dirt roads? A drunk pervert and his filthy copper? No. Perhaps that letter flew into her way for a reason. Perhaps this is what the fates had in store for her.

...Or perhaps this is the alcohol talking. She reminds herself that she is still in her "comfort zone." She is still around six lonesome men, men who will be travelling for days upon nights with no company of the fairer sex. These men, judging by their carefully crafted weapons, have coin, and, like all men, temptations. It is only a matter of time until Riley is cash in on this journey, regardless of the matter with the goblins. Yes. She shall leave today.

Her gaze shifts around the area. She is unaware how long she has been inattentive. "So..." she rocks back in an attempt to stabilize herself. Playing it off as coolly as she can, she continues in stride, "we're leaving now, I take it? Which way do we go?"

[Wizibirb]

Alton smiled as the horrible chains were removed from his wrists, however the smile was short lived... it was going to be a suicide mission. He would not back out, now... No he would see this through, it would clear his record. It was worth it. He had essentially ignored everyone while the guards had removed his shackles, he finally chimed in his opinion.

Doesn't matter what we do, however we should get moving. We are wasting daylight.

[Land Outcast]

Ironically for the dwarven warrior, at the halfling voicing his opinion he starts walking towards the thin smoke thread, so as to show the rest of the hunting party whatever tracks might be left of goblin scum.

During the short trip he calls upon Stephen to walk by his side, Farakas doesn't start any conversation, but might start chatting with the skald should he be inclined to do so. The young man seems to be one of will around here if for action, and besides, Farakas remembers the skald tales of his childhood... It might be a foolish hope, and one he'll never admit by himself, but he yearns to hear once again of clans and legends.

The sorrounding countryside is wildly overgrown and hard to navigate, rests of broken wooden structures -barns, houses, fences- lie among the undergrowth.
"Damn beasts an' vermin broke all down, drove all but tha sturdiest into tha city too... killed tha animals... an' wouldn't allow one ta tend tha earth..."

Half an hour later the party arrives to the stone building:

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Doors and fenceposts lie piled beside the house, and all its windows but one have been boarded up.


Farakas then takes them to the place where most raids came from, pointing out multitude of prints in the dried mud...

@Anton
While Sventir examines the area, Farakas gets near to the previously manacled halfling and warns:
"I'll help ye pay back yer debt ta society, an' keep ye from harm as far as it be within me abilities. But speak like ye did of tha All-Father again and ye'll have no hands to be manacled."
He then smiles, relived that the halfling might have grasped the importance of the infraction.
Checks[roll0] to aid another (Sventhir) in the survival check. DC 10 means Sventhir gets a +2 bonus to his check.


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[GFawkes]

"I'll look for a trail. Farakas, give me a hand. You know the area better than most of us. Everyone else, stay alert." Sventir states. He heads out, keeping a sharp eye on the ground.

[roll0]

(+6 from ranks in survival, +2 because of Farakas's help)

[CyganAngel]

Rolling spot and listen checks for everyone:

In order of Spot-Listen:

Steven Silverhair:

[roll0]
[roll1]

Maxwell Rathlin:

[roll2]
[roll3]

Riley Valentine:

[roll4]
[roll5]

Cade Tosscobbler:

[roll6]
[roll7]

Sventor Eihloh:

[roll8]
[roll9]

Alton:

[roll10]
[roll11]

Farakas:

[roll12]
[roll13]

[CyganAngel]

Maxwell, Seventor and Farakas see a group of Orcs approaching. Alton hears them, and Cade does both.

The orcs snort, and stop, roughly one hundred feet away.

They call out to the adventurers.

[Wizibirb]

Alton was truly relieved to have been freed from his chains and was truly enjoying the free air. Perhaps this was one reason he wasn't as observant as he should have been. That and his eye kept wandering to the one female within the group he wondered what exactly her role was... Either way it was nice to have something to look at.

@ Farakas

Alton smiled sadistically, he leaned in and dropped his voice so the others would not hear. I will keep that in mind.... However know this, ever insult me again without good reason and you will not wake the next morning... You know nothing of my life. Do not assume again.

[journeyman]

The young warrior's son is more than pleased to walk with the taciturn dwarf. He has some difficulty keeping up with his jagged hobble, but the weeks of road travel to get here have accustomed his muscles to the strain. He's quite excited just to be talking to a dwarf. The stories and legends he's heard describe them as the finest of master crafters and possessed of a wisdom that borders on divination. He's also heard that, like the icemen clans, dwarves have great respect for lineage. So, though storytelling is his passion rather than his strength, Stephen does his best as a true skald to share the legend of how Sven the Fearless, a distant ancestor of his, tried to rescue a beautiful damsel from a terrible dragon. Several feats of legendary strength, prowess, and cunning follow as the damsel turns out to be an evil witch, the dragon falls in love with him, and he kills everything from goblins to giants to free her from her magical servitude. After all of which the silver dragon takes human form, marries him, and gives him many sons good, and brave and strong. Thus was the founding of the Frostreaver Clan (though how they got that name is another legend...) It's a slightly outrageous tale, particularly in the many gruesome and comedic ways Sven dispatches his foes, but Stephen tells it with the confidence of a true believer. He sounds quite wistful when he describes the legendary beauty of the woman who was also a dragon. Curiously, he does not use the past tense when describing her, though he does so for the long dead Sven.

Being of little use in searching, the murky-eyed skald has found himself a shady spot and is catching his breath. He's grateful to any number of gods that the hunting party includes members with a walking pace only slightly faster than his own. Since danger is likely once they get moving again, he's using this time to offer some prayers of thanks and for continued blessings. Specific deities mentioned include Valkar for courage, Kord for strength, Lyris for luck, and Bahamut for protection. Of course, it can be a little difficult to see approaching danger when your eyes are closed...

[Hefty Lefty]

The long journey up the countryside quickly bores the young Riley. She moans and complains not-so-silently at the first steep uphill slope the party comes across. What the hell did I sign up for? she thinks to herself pessimistically, There's no reason for me to be here. The slowest member lags around the back of the pack. If she's not in the back, the only reason's someone would be behind her is to make sure she does not fall too far behind and get lost.

When the company reaches the abandoned farmhouse, Riley immediately sits down against the outer stone wall and takes shelter in the shade. For the first time today, she reaches for the other container at her hip, and refreshes herself with a bit of water. Still hot from the day's sun, she unscrews the cap to her waterskin and releases the flow onto her silky blond hair. The water rolls down from her hair to her bare shoulders, down to her loose white dress. Her body glistens as the sun's light reflects of the water on her skin. Looking up, she spies the halfling watching her from across the group. He's small, she thinks, sizing him up, But he wouldn't be my first halfling. They're fun.

[Land Outcast]

While walking with Stephen, Farakas speaks up now and then, most of the time it's just small grunts; but at a moment when the young skald is let down by the lack of answer from the dwarf, Farakas says "Weren't ye tellin' tha saga of Sven? By all means, continue."
Silent though he stays, Farakas is not only caught up in the story, but also marvels at how he already knows some lines of the legend, not the specific ones of course, but the ones describing batle, or the heroe's arsenal, or even the "rosy fingers of dawn"...
When they arrive to Farakas farmhouse he says
"Thanks for tha tale, master skald, I owe ye a mug of ale"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the black-bearded dwarf sees the glint of steel under the morning sun, he raises his voice "Orks!"
Draws a crossbow, loads it, and takes aim at the left eye of the leader of the greenskins.


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[Private-Prinny]

As soon as Max sees the Orcs approaching, his hand flies to his crossbow. A slight glow on his fingertips, he begins infusing his weapon with some additional strength.

Sorry I was slow on the uptake here. If there is a full minute between us seeing the orcs and Farakas firing his first shot, then I'll have OrcBane on my weapon for when we start (+2 on attacks, +2d6+2 on damage).

[Wizibirb]

Alton was defiantly enjoying the view of Riley, a small smile on his face. He sized up every inch of her... Human women were interesting. When he heard the orcs he immediately did what he did best.... Hide, he ducked behind some bushes and pulled out a spear.... IF they turned hostile he would launch a surprise attack from the side.

He spoke softly from his hiding spot... We sure they hostile?


Hide check
[roll0] TOTAL - 18

[kladams707]

Cade followed the group quietly reflecting upon this mission they had all been given. The distraction helped him to ignore the difficult trek they were hiking. He watched the others quietly, listening more to them than the rest of his surroundings. Suddenly, a shout from Farakas brought him out of inattentiveness. Quickly he looked around to find from what direction the orks would be found, ready to face them.

[CyganAngel]

The Orcs approach from the north.

They draw their weapons as the adventurers point theirs at them, but make no threatening gestures.

[GFawkes]

Sventir draws his Bastard Sword and holds it in front of Farakas. "Stay your weapons. These orcs may be able to help us fight the goblins." Sventir walks up to the orcs, staying about 35 feet away, and asks "Why do you approach us?" in Common.

[CyganAngel]

The orc looks confused/ It turns to its' comrades and snorts something.

It says something in Goblin.

[Hefty Lefty]

From the defense of the shade, Riley spots the brave Sventir calling to the primal orcs. She pushes one hand off the ground and rushes to his side. A bit woozy from the drinks she has been having, she leans on the ranger once she reaches him. She brandishes one of her short swords, the hilts of which perfectly match the white and blue of her dress. With her left hand occupied on Sventir's hip, the girl whirls around the blade, shouting, "Yeah, you tell them!" The anger in her eyes is evident. Get the f*ck out of here you disgusting beasts!"

[Wizibirb]

From his hiding place Alton groaned... Why were humans so rash? He shifted his hand on his spear and slowly and stealthly made his way towards his companions out front... hoping to remain unseen.

[journeyman]

Orks?...where?

Snapped out of his prayers by the dwarf's warning cry, the skald looks around frantically for his new friend. Upon spotting him, he jogs awkwardly to his side. It's only after he gets there that he spots the orcs. He didn't quite catch what the orc said, but the sound of the goblin tongue is unmistakable. While a glorious battle might yet happen here, he can't pass up the chance to practice one of his languages.

Shouting in Goblin Tongue
This land belong to mighty warrior. You not belong here. Say why you come or we not let you leave alive.

[CyganAngel]

The Orcs stare.

The middle one steps forward.

"This land is contested yet. You lay a claim to this? Against the many mighty clans already struggling for control of this?"

[journeyman]

Oh, Frell....

Keeping up his bravado, Stephen gives his companions the gist before anyone shoots...or decides he has betrayed them.

"I told him that these lands are defended and he'd better explain himself if he wants to live. He said that many groups are fighting over this place and asked if we were joining the contest. Farakas, who have you had to fight off besides the goblins?" The young skald's tone verges on the incredulous.

To avoid any appearance of weakness or division within the party, the skald replies to the orc while he waits for Farakas to give him a better idea just what he's gotten himself into.

What in Kronkesh's name can I possibly say that will turn this to our advantage?...

More shouting in Goblin tongue
"Many mighty clans? Land belongs to the strong! Orcs are strong! Humans and dwarf are strong! Who else is strong? Goblins are weak. If bugbears must hide behind goblins, then bugbears are weak! The strong will take the lands of the weak. If the strong fight the strong, both will become weak. We must drive out the weak before we can see who is really strongest!"

God's of battle, look down on your servant with mercy...

[kladams707]

Cade's face just paled at some of the statements made to the orcs. None have threatened us first. Yet, here are some of the party, puffing themselves up and insulting them.[i] He just shakes his head, not really sure what to do. [i]Should I speak up? Should I just stand and watch? Speaking up might lead to conflicts in the message. Just standing may lead to conflict. Cade continues to struggle internally, choosing more or less to wait and see rather than take his own actions.

[Land Outcast]

Keeping his aim on the left eye of the spokes-orc, Farakas answers loudly, anger boiling beneath his steady, iron voice:
"Even tha undead! Giant ants, wolves an' worgs, goblins an' mar goblins! Should I go on listing tha enemies me family brought down on this land or should I shoot, young human?"

It might come as a surprise the mention of family: the place seems most deserted besides the smoking chimney.

Farakas keeps a steady aim. "Go ahead, go ahead, ask tha ork if he wants ta try an' fight me, no filthy orc will have dwarven lands while I draw breah." The dwarf's voice shows a measure of anxiety it hadn't shown before, it seems he'll go for it if this prolongs much longer...


http://www.freeimagehosting.net/uploads/8ccc8fa11d.jpg

[journeyman]

There is none of the usual uncertainty in Stephen's voice as he answers. "Stay your hand, Farakas, Axe of the All Father. Remember your honor before your anger. We didn't come here to fight orcs, nor do they seem to have come to fight us. Let me speak with them a while longer. We have a saying in the North. An enemy is much like a friend; best kept close, best kept busy fighting someone else, and best remembered when dead."

His voice grows hard and cold, backed by the stubborn pride and long practice of one who has often been left behind to guard the home, but taken the duty as a sacred trust and dire responsibility. "There is glory and goblins enough to go around if they are willing to fight for those lands instead of this one. If not, the son of Garrik stands beside you. No Frostreaver has ever given ground without battle, nor fallen without taking his foe for company in the underworld. They will leave your land to you and yours or become a part of it, this I swear."

[Hefty Lefty]

Surprisingly, the vivacious girl manages to be quiet and patient... for all of ten seconds, until her ferocity, and her accent, get the best of her. "How is this so hahd?" She leaves Sventir's side to join the dwarf. "Let's f*ckin' kill them b*stids!" In her anger, her delicate hair falls in front of her eyes. She blows her locks back up over her head, equips her second blade, then taps Farakas on his broad shoulders. Her voice calms down for just a second. "Come on; show me that big ole' axe ain't just fah show." After speaking, she locks eyes with an orc, takes a generous swig from her flask, and growls the meanest she can. However, as she leans over to intimidate the gruesome foe, she loses her footing for a second, and needs to catch the sturdy dwarf in order to not hit the ground. She quickly blushes and turns away from the pack, holds back an elusive tear, shakes her head, and attempts to bring herself back to focus. Won't let these f*cking orcs embarass me. She struggles to focus on one thought. Damn f*cking orcs and their damn f*cking... oh gods I'm sick.

Intimidate Check - (1d20+5)[8]

[GFawkes]

"Riley! We don't attack potential allies. Haven't you heard about the goblin-orc conflict?" Sventir says, trying to control her.

[CyganAngel]

"There are more than Goblins," the Orcs growls. "There are filthy Gnolls too! And Ogres! And Trolls! And Pale-Hair Elves!"

Its' fist tightens around its' battleaxe.

The thing roars. "Why can you not just leave us in peace!"

Its' face screws up in frustration. "We have no problem with you! Only the Goblins! Why did you all have to get involved?!"

[kladams707]

Cade felt he could no longer stay quiet as he observed the obviously enraged orc. Cade stepped up behind Stephen, and, standing on his toes, whispered as close to his ear as possible as quickly as possible.


"Given certain actions, we might not be able to avoid bloodshed. If proven irreconcilable, I suggest you propose an even battle, between those of our group that want to fight and the orcs."

[journeyman]

Surprised, but pleased at the support and advice of another of his companions, Stephen continues doing his best to juggle diplomacy and conversations in multiple languages.

Whispered back to Cade:
A contest of Champions? What a clever idea. If we must fight I'll try to set the rules as you request. I'm not sure that the orcs will abide by such rules once the battle is joined and blood in the air, so watch yourself regardless.

Goblins we can and must handle. Gnolls...I hate gnolls. We can handle those as well if these warriors have the skills to match their bravado. Ogres and trolls are beyond me and likely the others as well. If such are the threats around here, I want allies.

All too aware of how sensitive this topic might be, especially in such a dangerous situation, the skald takes the precaution of asking his question in the dwarven tongue. It's no guarantee that everyone else will be excluded, but he'd bet his last piece of gold that a lush like Riley won't speak the language.

In dwarvish to Farakas:
"Farakas, this might be important. Where is the rest of your clan and how long has this land been out of dwarven hands? If the orcs don't understand your claim yet, I may be able to explain why we should be finding them land elsewhere."

Then, as always, he cannot resist answering a rhetorical question.

In goblin tongue to the orc:
"We do not come for you. We gather because goblins attack the dwellings of men. If they will not live in peace by choice, then they must be forced to stop. We will have peace one way or the other. If you want peace, kill goblins, but do not fight men. Then we can leave each other alone. Will you do this?"

[Land Outcast]

"Ten years ago me parents fell in battle, defending against mar goblins; nine years ago me brother went off ta find tha stronghold they came from; since Eight years ago, I have taken care of tha stone house. I vowed ta defend it, an' to make tha mar goblins meet righteous retribution!"

The dwarf removes the bolt form the crossbow and loosens the string, with a resignated look. He lays it on the floor.

"An' I won't allow some dirty greenskins to take away tha chance ta bring down tha slayers of me kin... even if it be not by my hand..."

Farakas then lays the carved war-axe and the shield besides the crossbow.
"Things have drawn out too long, and they are getting anxious, might as well overrun us..."

And he contemplates his holy symbol...

http://www.freeimagehosting.net/uploads/c8dfbfc392.jpg

"I shall challenge a warrior of theirs to single combat, with no armor an' just daggers. If I fall they shall have this land but tha hunting party can go on after tha goblins, if their warrior falls they shall not intercede, an' they will be gone from me land." Finally, he crosses his arms and waits. The steely gaze of his expression is determined, though Stephen could swear he heard a sigh.

[CyganAngel]

The Orc growls.

"We have not attacked men! Merely Goblins!"

[Hefty Lefty]

The heavy war axe falls to the ground and in the process the bladed edge rips up some grass. A small rock and soil is ejected from beneath the surface. What is he doing? The young Riley wonders in amazement. Her eyes are curious and open; her mouth is gaped wide. He thinks he's so brave, but he's just stupid! Where's my water? She sits down on the ground cross-legged and retrieves her waterskin. A cool stream of water runs down her throat. On a day as hot as it is, it's important to keep hydrated. Especially when one is dehydrating themselves with both hours of walking, heavy drinking, and possibly fighting. A relieving gust of wind blows through her hair. The bit of water that had dripped onto her hair and shoulders turns a frigid cold, sending her chills. She rubs her bare shoulder and looks back up at the proud dwarf. He's going to kill himself.

[journeyman]

Untrained in the finer art of diplomacy and not normally a forceful personality, the young man from the north is in over his head and having to take responsibility for the lives and land of others. Oddly, it's invigorating.

"Neg, Farakas. They did not come for your land, they came to speak with us. If there is a fight, it will be my failure that begets it. If any fight, it will be me. Do not be eager to die. If the orc's word is to be believed, you may even have them to thank for your vengeance, as they too have been troubled by goblin expansion. I think we have common cause. Your people have a saying, do they not? It is a poor craftsman that blames his tools. I am a skald. Warriors are my tools and I see warriors before me."

His confidence surging with the adrenaline rush of playing on the edge, the normally cautious young man feels the luck of Lyris is with him and decides to go for the proverbial jackpot. Stephen advances toward the orcs casually, trying to minimize any appearance of weakness from his stump-legged stride.

In goblin again:
"Then we are at peace with one another. Those who are at peace may trade or even make alliances against common foes. Shall we make a just a truce, am exchange, or even a pact to drive out the goblins together? After all, those who hunt together bring down bigger prey than those who go their own ways."

[Wizibirb]

Alton kept to the shadows, but slowly made his way closer in case things got hairy. He wondered if things were going to become violent, he judged by tempers and heated words that this was a powder keg just waiting to be set off. An evil thought flashed threw his mind, however he quickly shrugged it off and focused on being prepared in case anything was going to happen.

[CyganAngel]

The Orc hisses once again.

"We do not make pacts with outsiders."

Its' hand tightens around its' battleaxe.

"That does not mean we may not make a pledge."

It throws its' hand out, releasing the battleaxe.

"Shall we make a deal, short ones? We shall fight the Large Ones, and you shall fight the Small Ones."

[kladams707]

Cade just nods in response to Stephen's suggestion, fading slowly back behind the line ever ready for a fight to start. He merely listens, as best he could, to the unfamiliar language, his had moving back and forth between those who spoke.

[journeyman]

The hulking orc is a fearsome sight up close. Though they are present in the North as well, this is the first time Stephen has seen one up close. Well, one that's still breathing and has all its parts in the right places anyway. Despite how vulnerable he is, standing there among creatures that have often deserves their title of "monster", he feels a faint kinship. Whatever else they may be, these are warriors. He clasps the orc's rough hand with his own.

In goblin tongue:
"We have a deal. I, Stephen, Son of Garrik, pledge the strength of men to drive out the goblins so that they cannot trouble man or orc again. Let there be only peace between us and death to our enemies by the strength and honor of we who stand here now."

He yells back to the others. "Stand down. We have a deal. We will fight the goblins, the orcs will fight the rest." He's smiling broadly at his success.

[Hefty Lefty]

The placidly sitting Riley watches in awe as Stephen reaches out for the orc's hand. They're all, they're all stupid! They're all gonna die! She reaches up with one hand, but falls down on her back. The drunk mess of a girl rolls onto her belly. Her pure white dress gathers a light brown dirt stain on the thigh. She pushes herself up with her thin arms and brings herself to one knee, which, too, becomes stained with dirt. Her heroic attempt to protect Stephen is stopped dead in his tracks as he calls back to his party, mainly to her. Riley rests on one knee, stunned.

[kladams707]

Cade let out a sigh of relief, his heart pounding from his nervousness. In face, he failed to notice that he was still on his toes, from the attempt to reach Stephen's ears. Less fights, less spells used Cade thought to himself, finally remembering to breathe. Feeling a bit more relaxed, he lowered himself so that his feet once again was flat to the ground.

[Land Outcast]

He was ready to give his life in return for the chance of retribution, a fitting prelude of blood to an announced massacre of enemies.

"Wisdom..." is life tempered by experience

This is not it... monsters crossing over my land without retribution?... warriors he says? warriors? they're but beasts... Farakas drops to his knees But I must survive, I must bring retribution to goblinkind... and I must clear the way to the great dwarven holds.

He grabs his axe I cannot allow disrespect to go unpunished and returns it to its harness and my kin comes before a small stone hold....

Without speech he also retrieves shield and crossbow, Moradin Straighten Me If I Am Wrong and only then rises back to his feet. Silent.
Stone silent.

[CyganAngel]

The Orcs sneer, then turn.

"Fight valiantly, short ones," they snarl back over their shoulders as they begin to lope away.

That went better than expected. There were points there I expected the Orcs to attack.

[Hefty Lefty]

The cross-legged girl dimly watches as the orcs leave in peace. She picks up a small rock and throws it at the departing beasts, but it falls considerably short. "Well that was boring." Very interested with the ground around her, apparently, Riley plucks a daisy from her right and fixes it in her hair, held in place by her right ear. "I really thought you were going to do something about that, Farakas." She spies him pick up his weapons with a grimace on his face and decides to antagonize the situation. "I didn't know you were such a b*tch."

[Land Outcast]

His emotional surge was before the orcs, before the possibility of losing his home, that last piece of his tangible past... now he is calmer, and back to his senses...

Farakas rises his head and looks up to the girl.
He laughs softly but there's no joy in there.

"Wisdom is derived from life tempered with experience, girl... Ye might think ye have experience, but how long has it been since ye stopped crawlin'? ten? twenty years?" the dwarf stops for a moment and looks around, to the other companions' reactions.

"Ye're lacking it" or perhaps ye weren't strong to stand tha heat of experience an' broke...
"Even dho know better than to seek beautiful death before finishing a vow, Silverhair was right there. Ye should know better than to speak like that to those standin' by ye." and before walking towards Sventir to follow the trail, adds
"It is not wise to try an' divide us, by doin' ye're killin' tha town's last hope from inside; that's you an' me an' they: us."

No, he isn't a soft-spoken, warm dwarven priest.
While he's known mostly humans, he was raised by dwarves, and won't take offense lightly; but he isn't foolish either, won't strike down a non-dwarf for words said... and much less when each and every one counts.

[Wizibirb]

Sighing Alton emerged from his hiding spot spear still in hand, as he moved to rejoin the party he slowly put the spear back in place. He grumbled something about the big suicidal people and tempting fate. He took his place within the group and started scanning the area again...

So this is off to a swimming start wouldn't you say? He asked to no one in particular, he cast Riley a glance... he did not realize she was such a hot head ready for action... he kinda liked that in a woman. Smiling he winked at her and turned to face the front and started walking again.

[kladams707]

Cade merely stands, listening to the in-party bickering. He just shakes his head, exasperated from the patience that had obviously been exhausted. He looks to the others and sees Alton walking off. Deciding to follow, Cade's short legs move in the same direction as the other halfling, not uttering a word to the others.

[journeyman]

Stephen slowly walks back to the group, trying not to shake from the aftermath of adrenaline and nerves. He's kind of back to his somewhat oblivious self, lost in thought reviewing what just happened. He does however have a word for Riley as he passes, though he keeps his voice low."A dwarf has a very long memory. They keep their grudges like they keep their gold; close to the chest until they find the best use for it. I would not say such things if I were you."

"So, did anyone find the goblin's trail yet?"

[GFawkes]

"I think I did." Sventir says, pointing to some footprints in the ground.


Track check
Survival Modifier: +6 (+2 for Wisdom, +4 for Ranks)
[roll0]

To DM:
If I fail this check, I'll assume I found useless tracks.

[CyganAngel]

The tracks lead off to the east.

Yes, you failed that spot check pretty badly. Luckily, I'd thought of this possibility. Keep in mind, they're blaming you if you drag anyone else into this war...

[Hefty Lefty]

Who is he to talk about my experiences, my life? I've been through much more than my years would assume. I doubt that dwarf has been homeless on the streets for four years. I doubt he's had to sacrifice the greatest gift he has to make a few copper just to eat. I doubt his weapons experience comes from defending his life against vile and seedy men looking to take advantage of a small teenage girl. I doubt he's ever seen the victim's end of two orc's primitive urges. I doubt he's ever had to cope with the emotional ramifications of such a night. So forgive me for wanting to see some vengeance on those animals. You don't know what I've been through, so don't act as if you do. These thoughts run raging through Riley's head as she furrows her brow; her rampant thoughts summarized by a mean under-the-breath "Whatever."

The young girl in white walks away from the situation frustrated. She takes another swig from her flask. The silver container has proven to be her only friend through these dark times. She spots the halfling wink at her from the side and attempts to approach this friendly face before being brought aside by Stephen. The words run through her ear and directly out the other. "I'm over it. I'm over it." Her words interrupt the message she is given. "Look, thank you, but I'm over it. I don't need to take that." She mutters mostly to herself that last part. She walks away from the crowd as they investigate some tracks. She raises her hands behind her head. Again, she begins to cry. She instantly tries to stop the tears from flowing. What did I get myself into? I should've known I can't handle this. "No. Come on. Stop it." The words come out in an audible whisper, and Riley herself seems a bit surprised at the sound. Stop it. You've been messing everything up in the group since you got here. Just stop talking and stop making problems for everyone. She wipes her eyes with her fair-skinned arm, composes herself as best as she can, and approaches the tracks with the group. She honestly has no idea what the tracks are, but she pretends to examine them as everyone else is. If I just do as they do, maybe they'll forgive me for causing such trouble...

[kladams707]

Cade notices the lack of footsteps behind him and halts. He looks behind him to see the others still discussing. Still a bit exasperated from their previous encounter, he chooses not to walk back. He hesitates to speak though, working up the courage to speak with a big voice. FInally he says Are you just going to let the two of us wander off? he says with a half-hearted smile, making sure they could all hear him.

[journeyman]

"Huh? Oh yeah, sorry." :smallredface:

The embarrased northman snaps out of his reverie and hustles to catch up with the leaders. Since the others seem similarly wrapped up in their own internal concerns, he tries to make up for his apparent inattention with a quick question...or two....or three.... :smallwink:

"So, how do you track? I've never been out with the hunters, so I've never seen it done before. Isn't it hard to find prints away from snow and mud? How do you tell which ones are the ones that you are looking for?"

(OOC: He assumes that they took off because they found tracks, since that was the last question he asked. He isn't all that good at understanding what people really mean.)

[kladams707]

"Track?" Cade inquired almost as if Stephen had spoken a foreign language. "I think Alton took off in the direction we were headed before we stopped." He looks down at the ground for a brief second before adding sheepishly "I followed, perhaps foolishly."

[journeyman]

"Sort of like what I just did, huh?" Stephen notes with a self-depreciating chuckle. "Alton thinks we're all dead men walking, so he might not want to make any friends right now. You should probably leave him alone for a little while. Besides, I think Sventir said he found some tracks. C'mon, maybe we can both learn something."

He won't push the issue, but the young man clearly hopes to have made another friend. He'll wait a moment for a response either way and then head back to Sventir to repeat his questions. He has a knack for picking things up quickly and now he's getting curious. That, and maybe after his usefulness as a translator, he'll finally manage to talk to a real hunter without getting blown off or patronized. :smallsmile:

[Wizibirb]

Alton tried to muffle the sigh, he had hoped to convince the group to follow him AWAY from danger but it seemed like that plan had failed. Grumbling he corrected his course to make sure he was with the rest of the group. He casts a look at Stephen, It is a bloody suicide mission... There have been whole cities wiped out! And all they send is a rag tag team of idiots who can't even tell which direction to go! he sighed and shook his head, he wished he hadn't been caught. More than that, he wished people wouldn't talk about him like he wasn't standing more than two feet away.

After a moment he spoke again, So what is your areas of expertise?

[journeyman]

Well this was a surprise. Maybe he had misjudged the misanthropic halfling after all. Stephen'll slow his walk even further so he can talk to Alton on the way over to Sventir.

"I'm a skald, so mostly my role is to keep the wisdom of the elders and inspire the warriors with song. More specifically, I'm well versed in ancient mysteries, magic traditions, arcane symbols, cryptic phrases, constructs, dragons, magical beasts, aberrations, caverns, oozes, spelunking, legends, personalities, inhabitants, laws, customs, traditions, humanoids, animals, fey, giants, monstrous humanoids, plants, seasons and cycles, weather, vermin, gods and goddesses, mythic history, ecclesiastic tradition, holy symbols, undead, the Inner Planes, the Outer Planes, the Astral Plane, the Ethereal Plane, outsiders, elementals, and spells in general."

He catches his breathe after the full recital.

"I pretty much memorized anything anyone in my clan knew about the outside world, which doesn't seem to have included much of its history or geography, but I'm learning as I go along. Believe it or not, I also dance."

He looks rather proud of that last point.

"You could be a bit more confident. I'm sure that those cities did a lot of wiping out of their own at the time. There might not be nearly that many goblins left. After all, they also have to compete with the gnolls, orcs, drow, undead, ogres, and trolls out here. They've probably taken heavy casualties already. So, what is your area of expertise?"

(He's totally oblivious to the fact that that last point might not be encouraging.)

[kladams707]

Cade merely nods in response to Stephen's suggestion as the walk back toward Sventir. He listens and smiles, laughing a bit inwardly at the skald's longwinded explanation as to his specialization in the group. Not wishing to interrupt, he remains silent to allow for Alton's exposition to his role within.

[Wizibirb]

Alton had a look of pure disbelief, Doesn't it then surprise you that they are still able to push forward. That they could keep coming? That there is no end to the horde? As he spoke he attempted to demonstrate his skill set, he attempted to lift Stephens wallet. As he attempted to do that he continued to speak hoping to keep him distracted. As you know I was caught thieving, so I guess you could say that my talents lie in stealth and trickery.


[roll0] Total -20

Woot! so I lifted his purse! now dc 25 spot check to notice (+5 for being distracted)

[Hefty Lefty]

Area of expertise? Riley looked down at her body. Her white dress tried to hide her pale white skin. She ran her hand through he thick, blond, shimmering hair. She took a long drink from her water skin. Upon latching the canteen back onto her belt, the dress supported loosely on her shoulder fell. She quickly caught it and studied the manner in which she was clothed. Her dress generously highlighted her figure. The length of the dress has caught many an eye. After all, that was the point. I suppose... this... is my area of expertise. For good or for bad. Examining her body and clothes, she made her way down to her curvaceous hips, upon which rested her short swords. In the privacy of the back of the party, she quickly grabbed them both and threw herself into a battle position. Her dress flew in the motion. Her light hair gracefully fell into her face. She smiled with a devious smirk. Maybe the combination of these is my expertise. She swings her left hand down in a swift strike, in the process bending down and a revealing to her imaginary enemy the cleavage of her dress. She throws her head back with a heartfelt laugh. This is gonna be fun.

[Land Outcast]

Farakas keeps walking in silence, following Sventir. Apparently lost in thought, he is alert, waiting for the orcs to turn around at a moment's notice or for a goblin scout to jump from behind a rock.

[journeyman]

Alton had a look of pure disbelief, Doesn't it then surprise you that they are still able to push forward? That they could keep coming? That there is no end to the horde?

Stephen lights up with enthusiasm at the stream of questions from the halfling. He'd heard that they were curious, but this one either has an expansive interest in the reasons behind current events...or he's asking rhetorical questions. Completely unable to distinguish between the two, the skald once again errs on the side of preference and answers to the best of his ability. Besides, walking and talking at the same time is actually kind of pleasant.

(OOC: I'm not going to bother with the spot roll, I'd need a nat 20 anyway.)

"It would actually surprise me if they didn't keep pushing forward. They don't have a choice. Goblins don't farm land or raise livestock, they only hunt or scavenge. If there are even a fraction of the number you think there were, they must eat up all the food in any given area fairly quickly. To avoid running out, they must either split up into much smaller groups over a large area or the entire group must move on together. Those are the times when they attack towns, because a town is the only place where food is concentrated enough to feed such a horde for even a short while. When they fail to take a town, they at least have less mouths to feed. Even so, without food reserves to fall back on, the survivors of these raids must be spreading out to forage. So, unless the bugbears are managing to ration food, the goblin horde has no choice but to disperse between attacks."

The young man smiles at his new friends and makes an effort to figure out if anyone else has become interested or if he's lost his audience already. Either way, he'll drive on to the conclusion quickly enough so he can ask Sventir about the tracks they're now following.

"Any one of us should be more than a match for a goblin. So, as long as we use tracking and scouting to limit the number we face at a time, we should have free reign through their territory for some time. If we can find and kill the bugbears, the goblins may even lack the leadership to come together in a horde. At that point we can pretty much act freely as long as we are careful to leave no survivors and not get caught. Given your expertise, I expect you'll find these kind of raids much more to your liking than whatever sort of suicide charge you were expecting. Northmen value cunning as an equal to strength. I have every intention of living to be old and gray, tending the camp and telling stories to my grandchildren."

[kladams707]

Cade listens as Stephen shows off his insight in goblins and strategy. He smiles a bit, semi-appreciating Stephens perspercacity, albeit a bit wordy. Feeling a bit more relaxed around the group, he quickly quips "Well, make sure you survive, else you'll have no grandkids to tell your tales." He winks, making sure he conveys a good-hearted demeanor and connotation to the innocuous statement.

[Wizibirb]

Alton rolled his eyes, he had a hard time believing that this man could believe things would just go well.... It did not matter though he would do what he had to.

He wondered if he should give him his money pouch back just yet, but decided that it could wait.