E6 Exploration Campaign

[tortor]

The journey has been long and harsh, and more than a few bodies were heaved over the side, people who'd died of disease or thirst. The new world is rumored to be a place for new opportunities. A place where all races come together to form communities. The fog lifts like a funeral veil and you catch your first glimpses of land. You see a jagged rocky shore, the waves splash violently against cliffs, and there, a small peninsular outcropping with signs of "civilization" If that's what you can call it.

http://imgur.com/GKo35n9.jpg

The ship pulls in and you see a few dozen locals hauling crates off and loading them against the inner wall. As the passengers, those who made the voyage to be here, begin to disembark a tall surly looking man Informs everyone that there is hot stew in the communal dining hall in the center of town.

[darklink_shadow]

John Swanson, professional tracker and animal trainer, disembarked early. His piercing green eyes scanned what little civilization there was, and the wild nature of the place filled him with peace of mind. The old country was much too domestic, the land had given up, and bent its knee to the humans who thought them masters of nature. But this place was vibrant with energy. He slipped his hair back into a long ponytail, revealing more of his bare skin. He wore only pants made of cotten, the rest of his apparel was etched into his flesh; a myriad of tribal and mystic tattoos marbled nearly every inch of him. Sometimes they appeared to move, and often they seemed to give off their own, greenish light. This was, of course, just a trick of the light bouncing off of the rare ink that was just under his skin. Of course, that was exactly what it was. Tattoos do not move on their own.

The tall surly man pointed, and John learned from where his next meal came. Without a word, John redirected his path to lead him towards food. It had been a hard journey, and he was sick of the foulness, and overly salted food aboard the ship. He was looking forward to a real meal, let alone a hot one. And tomorrow: a fresh kill, and some fruit. John took in the sights of the "town" and breathed in the pure air that leaked from the forests.

[blacklight101]

As the ship comes into the dock, Ulric surveys the town and the inhabitants he could see, the promise of food was tantalizing. Leaning against the rail of the ship, clad in furs but not his armor, he gathers his pack from near his feet and proceeds belowdeck to haul Pyotir from its depths.

"Come on, Pyotir, he huffs as he hauls on Pyotir's harness. The mule just haws and stands his ground. "I told you I vould leave you on the ship if you vouldn't come dis time." He leans against the harness and Pyotir still stands firm. "Fine, stay on dis boat, mule," he spits as he drops the harness and walks off. Pyotir seems almost to grin at him and moves to follow after he walks off.

Ulric glances behind himself, seeing his mule as always. "Khek, Pyotir, do you not want to stay on ship? Never vould haff dreamed that. Ulric shakes his head, smiling slightly to himself. At least Pyotir was still more reliable than most of the people he dealt with before this expedition, stubborn, but reliable.

[esorscher]

The stench of Bruce emanates from him and clears a path as he walks, but he bumps past John and Pyotir as he hurries for the stew. Once he gets to the dining hall, he pushes his way to the front of the line, and grabs a bowl from the nearest location, be it a table or the person he'd jostled out of place. "Stew!" he barks gruffly, holding out the wooden bowl. "Dog," Bruce's dog, bounds up next to him, growling menacingly at anyone who approaches. One of Bruce's many fleas leaps off of him and into the pot of stew, adding a bit of protein to the broth.

[McTurbo]

Taleron slowly walks off the ship, his hands in the pockets of his vest. He barely pays attention to the people around him, simply glancing around at everyone around him and continuing his stroll. He decided that it would be best to go to the dining hall for the stew. Taleron had lost some weight on the journey which probably wasn't that good for him since he didn't have much in the first place. Not since that dreadful day...

Taleron shook his head. "Clear your thoughts...", he muttered to himself. It was no use thinking about that. He had come to this new, unexplored place to escape the proverbial demons of his past, and there was no reason to think about it anymore. The past is in the past, no use thinking back to it. Better to focus on the important matters at hand, namely stew. He was quite hungry and anxious to get to eat, despite walking quite slowly with seemingly no hurry. First impressions always mattered and it was better to be viewed as calm and collected instead of impatient and frankly, rude. Like that smelly orc. Taleron sighed. He hoped he wasn't going to have to deal with idiots like that going forward.

Taleron is psionically focused. He always regains his focus when he wakes up.

[darklink_shadow]

John, slightly annoyed that his first experience in the new land is of a fool with no manners, wondered if many people believed that lack of civilization was an excuse for rudeness. He stopped, and turned back to look at the mule that was nearly knocked down as the brute surged past. My, my. What a crass man. Are you quite alright, little mule?

Letting his eyes drift to the man the mule was following, he smiled and extended his hand. I suppose I will attempt to negate that rather sour man's lack of manners. Hello, my fellow of the same boat. I am John Swanson, a tracker and animal handler. It is a pleasure to be off that boat, and an only slightly smaller pleasure to meet you.

[blacklight101]

Ulric extends his hand to accept the greeting, "Ulric Magnusson, my mule Pyotir. Ja, it is good to be off de boat. Vat brings you so far from your Motherland? Seeking something to take home as I am?

[darklink_shadow]

John shook the hand firmly, keeping eye contact as he did so, and smiling once the handshake was done. No, my thickly accented new friend, I intend to remain here for the rest of the foreseeable future. I am hoping to carve out a life among the trees, and become more unified with nature. It's beautiful out here and the air is much cleaner. I suppose I am just tired of the city, and the hustle and the bustle of people with too much to do, and too much to lose.

Looking at the mule, he arched his eyebrow. Pyotic? What an odd name. Ah, I suppose I should expect as much though. I hope you can find whatever you are looking for here. Come, let's go get some hot food for us, and we can see about perhaps finding something nice for your mule. I'd love to hear about your Motherland over a bowl of hot stew. Though, I suppose while hot stew is involved, I would be happy regardless of conversation, eh? John smiled again at his joke, and walked towards the town again, keeping his head turned slightly to let Ulric know that he still had his ear.

[Yas392]

May tested her body against the waves. The second half of the hour had left her increasingly restless. She had been quiet enough to not warrant trouble. However, she wanted a challenge. She jumped into the freezing waters, propelled forward until the ship docked. Shoring herself, untying bottles that held her aloft during the harsh whippings of wind and brush of saltiness, she leaves the makeshift bottles behind. They are almost useless compare to well-made buoys. What makes her hasten herself past John and some other explorer who are coming to get some food is the smell and the rumbling her stomach. She does not even brush past them with abrasiveness like the orc before but pass them with the grace of the hunter, not even contacting their fabric or skin like a perfect dancer who avoids the mishaps of her steps as she rehearse. Her steps are merely fleeting as the wind and it doesn't make a sound. She reaches the town hall, awaiting the stew with a leery look on those who dares intimidate her.

[blacklight101]

"Ja, hot food is good for making de words flow," he says as walks slightly behind John, glancing behind him only to make sure Pyotir was close behind. "I vould like to hear more of where you are from also, I vas never in cities much, not before this, as he gestures behind himself at the boat with his thumb. I may be farther from de Motherland than many of my people haff gone.

[darklink_shadow]

John nodded his assent, but didn't speak again until they had found the line to the stew. For some reason, some people seemed to no longer want the stew they had come in for, but it wasn't clear as to why; it smelled great. I would be happy to tell you about my homeland. But I must admit, I am not all that knowledgeable about the place. I kept to myself, and a small group of people while I studied the mystic arts.

In a strange tongue, that was universal to those who were practitioners of the druidic arts, but unknown to any who were not, he spoke only three words: I am Druidic. He didn't expect the man to understand, but the sentence was short enough that it was worth saying incase the man was. A mule was a strange animal to companion with, but it was even stranger to have no companion, as was the case with John.

My homeland, Iblinor, is quite an industrial complex. The cities are as expansive as the forests they cut down once were. The line is awfully short, we should have our stew in no time.

[blacklight101]

He didn't understand the skraeling's words for a moment, but no matter, he seemed good company besides. "It worries me when lines for food are short, maybe de cook is not so good, yes? Ah, no matter, it is hot food after a long trip. De food on de boat did make me think of home, many meals of fish and salt pork. Our lives in the North belong to de waves, dey bring us wealth and ruin both. I had never gone far to the South until I vas struck vith the Wanderlust, now it leads me here." Walking and smalltalking had moved him to the back of the slightly-too-quickly emptying line and much closer to the hot food, for better or for worse.

Somewhere in his mind, he resolved to keep an eye on the skraeling, one that small may need someone to watch him, considering it didn't look like he could lift the armor Ulric wore, let alone his backpack. Might learn something from him as well, he did say something about handling animals after all, maybe he could help with stubborn old Pyotir.

[darklink_shadow]

John shrugged with a small laugh. The cook doesn't have to be that good. As long as it's warm, and filling. Pah, but you lived off of fish and salted pork? I was tired of that by the second week of travel. I wish I had visited the land you described. Living off the waves sounds like the sort of life I'd like to live. I actually do like fish, but something about living on the ship and eating only fish made it tiresome.

Wanderlust, huh? I've heard that the larger, and stronger a man is, the greater his urge to explore, and test himself against the world. What do you hope to find out here? A trophy to bring home? Tales of your adventures? There should be plenty of both here.

John noticed the dripping wet woman from earlier standing in front of them. My, if it isn't that impatient woman, so eager for a meal, she had to dive into he sea to try to beat us all there. His tone was teasing, the implication of impatient clearly in jest.

Your haste didn't seem to gain you much of an advantage over us. But I commend your attitude. The early bird gets the worm, and the late bird goes hungry. John then looked around the room and spotted the orc and the angry dog who kept him company. He gestured at the brute to Ulric, but didn't say anything else.

[blacklight101]

"Living off the waves is good, hard work, a mostly satisfying life, for some. You are right about de Wanderlust, many leave in search of stories and riches to bring home, sometimes to secure a mate, other times to get fame, but all seek to tell their story in the end. For what are ve but storytellers, yes?" Leaving the question hanging, he gets some stew from the communal pot and eats hungrily, hot food being good food after a long journey.

Noticing the Orc and soaked woman from the boat, he can't do much but shake his head and shrug as they are pointed out. The skraeling was a fancy talker, but it was a nice change from the relative solitude of the journey. He had spent most of it above deck with the crew, but they hadn't been particularly talkative and most of the passengers didn't seem too fond of sea travel. This should be quite the journey, indeed.

[darklink_shadow]

John sat down with Ulric at the assorted seating provided, and investigated the stew briefly. It tastes fine to me. He muttered, as he continued to eat. Well, anyhow, your trusty mule looks like quite a story in of itself. Himself, I believe? Why did you decide to bring your own mule with you across the sea? I'm sure there are beasts of burden here already. Seems like a tale to tell.

John pointed his spoon at Ulric. Don't disappoint. I'm in a good mood for a heartbreaking tale of the bond of a beast and his master, facing all odds to come to the new country together. John laughed with a wink before returning to his food.

[blacklight101]

The stew wasn't the worst he ever had, but meat seared over an open flame would have much more proper for ending a journey, in his opinion. If the root vegetables in it were local, the flavors weren't bad. The meat was a little gristly, but he may have gotten a bad piece. Still, it was hot food.

"Not to jest, but you haff de best part of the story right there. Pyotir, I haff had for some years now, since a short time after my wanderlust struck, ve wandered in the north for some time- I vas still trying to find my way then, searching for something. I found part of it wandering across the coastlines, a deeper connection to my own Gods. Through weather good and bad, other companions or no, that mule has taken my burden with little complaint, steadfast as any other. He can carry quite a bit as well, that does his cause no harm either. Stories can come later, though, at least mine can. Tell me more of your journey here." He looks at John somewhat expectantly. He wonders idly if there was some ale or mead anywhere, stew is all well-and-good, but one needs a drink to go with it.

[darklink_shadow]

My story? John sighed, and shook his head. That's either very boring, or far too long. I'll give you the short of it. My family were among the poor huddled masses, working endlessly for the profit of their superiors. I was badly injured, and my parents could not afford medical treatment. Instead, they gave me over to a circle of druids, who agree to heal me, if they could keep me as their apprentice for seven years. Rather than have me die, my parents agreed. As it turned out, the druids let me visit my family as much as I wanted, but as time drew on, I found I preferred the company of the druids, and their animals to the rush of city life. The circle urged me to chose my own path. After much prayer and meditation, I decided to journey to the new land, and adventure the lands. Hopefully I can make my own circle here, or meet with some druids who are already here. I never did fully heal from my wounds as a child though, but I learned much of the druidic arts. I've focused my studies on the art of summoning.

[tortor]

http://www.tentonhammer.com/image/view/232809.jpg

A strong but tired looking woman ladles thick fish and mushroom stew out of a massive pot in the center of the Hall, the line moving quickly as she pours each wooden bowl with practiced ease. As Bruce arrives, knocking a tired looking gnome woman over in his excitement the woman fixes him with a glower that could melt a stone. Ya think yer cyute boi! she cries in an outrage as she begins to beat Bruce about the face with her ladle in a flurry of blows that makes several sturdy looking warriors at the back of the hall visibly flinch.

A brief survey of the room shows that there are 10 long tables, each with benches pulled up to it and most occupied in some manner or another. Ulric and John are currently sharing a table with a trio of wood elves and the single most massive orc that either of them have laid eyes on (Easily a head taller than the orc who is still being beaten with a wooden spoon)

At another table sits nearly a dozen Heavily armed and armored dwarves, each with a black hammer crest emblazoned on their tunics. They eat in quiet almost religious silence.

In the back, a group of men lean together, pipe smoke wreathing the table as they pour over some parchment which is staked to the table with a pair of daggers, nearby a massive hound actively watches the room, pacing here and there, but never straying more than a few paces from the table as the men work.

Scattered at the rest of the tables are various folk from the settlement, a wily looking fisherman tells tales of when he used to be a sea captain to a group of youngsters and a group of what appear to be farmers lay exhausted at their own table, looking somewhat defeated.

[esorscher]

It takes Bruce more than a moment to register that he is being attacked. He roars, spittle flying into the gnome woman's face, and sticks his bowl into the stew without using the ladle. At twice her size, he can appreciate her bravery, or perhaps exasperation. He slightly burns his fingers on the hot broth as he dips his bowl into the vat, but he comes up with a bowl full of stew and walks away, ignoring the gnome. The stew is now sweetened by the filth from under his fingernails, but he doesn't care. He sits down across the table from the only other orc in the room. "Bruce," he says, clapping his fist to his chest. "Dog," he gestures to his dog. "Where the orc women at?" He pulls a piece of meat out of his stew and drops it on the floor next to Dog, who eagerly tears into it, then drinks some of the stew himself, bringing his bowl to his lips with a loud "Sluururururrpp".

[TheStillWind]

Leone was slow to exit the galley. While others were packing their bags he was at the bow doing a charcoal drawing of the the town as viewed from the water. He put the finishing touches on it just as others were leaving. The drawing was more technical than artistic.

He headed back below decks to gather the last of his things. He was tall and strong but soft, with hands that had seen more ink than dirt. Any fitness he had was from controlled practice and not from experience. He was dressed simply in wool a tunic and pants with an oiled leather cloak draped about him. A chain shirt peaked out from underneath his collar.

He stuffed a notebook and some pens into his bag along with a few sealed vials and rushed of the boat to get some food.

[blacklight101]

"Well, it seems ve both seek something for ourselves. You are correct about new lands and new adventures, I am going somewhere my people have not yet been. I may be de farthest one from our homelands right now. I can only hope to take back stories of what I see here, riches as well if I am a lucky man. If ve are fortunate, ve will find what we seek in these new lands." He finishes the last of his stew and looks around for a keg of ale or bottles of good drink, for that is the way to start a new chapter in his life. The Dwarves may have something to barter for if the hall has nothing, though. A toast to the start of a new journey is a good start in his book.

[tortor]

A brief glance shows Ulric that there are no obvious signs of booze anywhere in sight. The people here seem to be drinking a thick leafy broth which smells vaguely piney and acrid.

The Orc looks at Bruce with something close to disdain and replies in flawless Elvish ( A language that literally none of the three players chilling at the table speak WOW) before quietly finishing his stew and standing to return his bowl, gently picking the gnomish woman up from the ground and wiping her apron off

http://media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/cd/9e/9d/cd9e9d982ed5c531a1d509f60b6a1a7e.jpg

Leone arrives to find the line has disipated and many people are finishing their bowls, the stew pot almost empty by this point.

[Yas392]

May quietly takes her bowl to the table between the boisterous and the silent. She sets herself down, watching in amusement as the belligerent orc is beaten by futile strength coming from the small hands who serves their meal. Whatever is in her stew matters not as long as it is sufficient for her hunger. She is civil about it because she expose to her city in times unlike the orc who tries to get his way. She laughs inside as the orc is rebuked by the other larger orc who turn away to help the small woman who is stained by the stew from the smaller orc's stupidity.

[TheStillWind]

Leone goes yo the line, grabs a bowl, and gets it filled with a thin broth full of small bits of dense offal, characteristic of a the last scraps of a once hearty stew. He makes eye contact with some of his fellow boat passengers and nods.

Drinking deep, he walks to the back of the room toward the men surrounding the parchment. As he approaches,

"Evening folks, mind if I take my supper over at your table. I will mind your..."

"Map?", he guesses as he eyes the parchment.

[tortor]

Leone doesn't get within 10 feet of the table before the massive hound is barking a warning and running threateningly back and forth before him, not advancing, but refusing to allow him to pass as it snarls.

[McTurbo]

Taleron arrives at the dining hall at his leisurely stroll, hearing a roar just before entering. Seeing the gnome woman and the same rude orc from before moving away from her with a bowl of stew, he sighs. Of course. He looks around the hall, at the same time slowly walking to the stew pot. He watches as the huge orc walks to the gnome, helping her get her bearings. Nice to see that there's at least one orc with manners even in a place like this.

Taleron approaches the stew pot and picks up a bowl on the way. Looking inside the pot, he sighs again. He scoops up some of the stew and picks out an empty spot, not too close to anyone but not too far away either. Not close enough to provoke a response, but close enough to still hear what they're talking about.

Taleron speaks Elven, can I hear what the orc said? Have a Listen check, just in case:
Listen to hear the orc - [roll0]
:smallannoyed:

[TheStillWind]

"Whoa fella. I get the point."

Leone turns around and walks over to the table where the men he recognizes sit.

Whether they noticed or not, he explains he rebuke by the dog.

"I guess that was a private table. I thought they might be looking at a map and I was interested. But no matter, their business is their own."

He sits.

"Hope I am not interrupting anything."

[esorscher]

Bruce shrugs and eats his stew, belching and slurping, ignorant of what he has done to offend the other Orc. When he finishes, he drops the bowl loudly on the table and as it spins, clattering, says, "Good stew." He turns around on the bench and leans back against the table, looking at the room. Dog scratches behind its ears with its hind leg.

[tortor]

As the meal finishes a loud clanging fills the room. A man stands beside the now empty stew pot, banging it with a ladle
http://i.imgur.com/i0gIIfH.jpg

Alright, Listen up folks, he calls My name is Morgan, I'm the closest thing to a mayor we've got out here he chuckles a bit, seemingly amused with himself. He smooths his filthy clothes a bit, and for a moment you can tell they used to be quite beautiful. For those of you who are new, ya can sleep here tonight, bu yer expected to help move the tables and benches against the east wall there. Come morning we'll have a few tasks that need to be taken care of, so let's go ahead and get em all covered before ya goto bed tonight. I need a few volunteers for each of these tasks.

Volunteering isn't a requirement of course, but if ya want stew and a warm roof tomorrow you will need to volunteer for something.

He pauses, stroking the hilt of his long sword a moment before continuing I need some folks to go foraging for mushrooms just south of here, and I'll also need a couple of people to go out with them and make sure nothing happens to em.

I need a few people to go west and scout out some land to be used for farming, we just got a shipment of various seeds and could use a space to plant them,

I also need some people to head west with them and drop a couple of those massive trees at the edge of the jungle. We have an oxen that will go with and help you drag back the log.

If there are any skilled craftsmen in the crowd, I will see to it that your crafts are put to good use for the community.

Lastly, I need a few brave souls to head north, there is something in the mountains north of us that keeps coming down and killing our patrols, we've lost 7 men to whatevers out there already so be careful

As he finishes the dwarves volunteer to go west almost instantly, while the elves volunteer to go foraging, but admit that it would be nice to have some protection. The massive orc volunteers to go with the elves and protect them.

[blacklight101]

Ulric looks at John after the Mayor is done speaking, "Vell, it seems North is vhere the adventure lays," a smile coming to his face, "I think ve should speak up for it, yes?

Thinking to himself for a moment, he speaks up, "I vill go north."

[McTurbo]

Taleron looked up at the so-called mayor, then down at his stew, bringing the bowl to his mouth and simply drinking the rest right out of the bowl. Going with the elves and the orc to make sure nothing bad would happen seemed like a safe, albeit boring option. Then again, the northward group seemed like quite a nice option for some adventure and would quite likely be the most fulfilling option. Taleron stood up from his place, hearing the thick-accented enlisting of the man not too far from his seat. Might as well.

Taleron walked to Ulric. "Then I believe we are both going the same way. Going north seems like the option least likely to bore one to death. Name's Taleron." He thought about whether he should also tell the man his surname as well and maybe even offer a handshake, coming to the conclusion that a man like that would likely not care much for such formalities. In the end he just settled for a small smile and a short nod. "Nice to meet you."

[blacklight101]

"Greetings, I am Ulric, I must agree with your thought on the north road, there does seem to be some excitement to it." He extended his hand for a greeting as well, he did need to remember the formalities he learned in his travels through more "civilized" lands, after all. "What brings you this far out of your homelands?"

[McTurbo]

Taleron answered the offered handshake. It seemed the man wasn't as uncivilized as he had thought, though the handshake did seem a bit clumsy and forced, it was not that hard to tell apart the handshake of someone who wasn't used to it with the experience of having shaken hundreds, maybe even thousands of hands. "It's a long story. Used to have it all, lost everything. My lands, my fortune, my pride. I had no choice but to leave, so I decided to have a new start."

[darklink_shadow]

John followed his larger friend, as he introduced himself to a rather professional looking man. Once they finished introductions, John introduced himself. Greetings, my friend, I am John Swanson, tracker and animal handler by trade. If what lies up north is a beast, I believe my skills should be quite useful, if it is not a beast, my skills of tracking will still be of use. John extended his hand as well, keeping eye contact, and shaking firmly.

Once the hand shake was over, he quickly spoke a few words in druidic, I am a druid. before continuing.

It seems to me that the best use of my skills are up north. I'm not exactly as excited about endangering myself as you two seem to be, but I won't flinch away from duty, either. Since there may be combat, I have to admit I am not very skilled when it comes to battle, but I have practiced the summoning arts for quite some time. I believe I can conjure enough aid to make myself worth while.

[Yas392]

As the mayor speaks out, she nods. North seems precarious. Nothing harmless, fresh preys. And she survived through hunting when she was very young and it became her first nature. These agreements of teamwork will quicken the hunt but will despoil the thrill. It is not worth it to be won by such pale impression of camaderie if they get in her way. She needs to get the head start. She makes her way until she is near the mayor and stares straight into his eyes. NORTH. She raises one hand, making a crude gesture of demand. DIRECTION?

[blacklight101]

"Well, Taleron, I am sorry you were forced from your lands, but you are right in saying a new land is a new start. At least here, the legacy ve forge is our own, not tied to any other."

"Excited about endangering myself? Vell, there is nothing to be gained by sitting on our haunches but fat and slack muscles. If it proves to be a fight, then there is a fight, if not, no matter. I vill just say my swordarm is vell rested from that trip, it aches to be used again." He waits casually by his table to see if there are any other volunteers for the trip, occasionally chiming in on the conversation between Taleron and John.

[esorscher]

"North," Smelly Bruce says curtly, and stands next to the others headed that way. "Bruce," he claps his fist to his chest. "Dog," he gestures to his dog. "When we going?"

[darklink_shadow]

John frowned at Bruce, but he couldn't think of a polite way of demanding the filthy, uncultured brute stay away from him and John was loath to be impolite without some need a little more dire. Instead he just frowned at him for a moment before sighing with a nod. I'm John. I'd shake your hand, but you're incredibly dirty. I'm afraid I will need you to stay a little away from me. I have a very keen sense of smell, and you are very pungent odor. It's a little overwhelming, actually.

John looked at Dog, and his frown deepened. Your dog also has some mange. He needs a bath, and... it looks like maybe some medicine. Has he been sick lately? Is his nose wet? His eyes are a little bloodshot. Hmm, this is a little concerning. He's not rapid, though, and he doesn't appear to be in pain. Well, maybe he's just exceptionally dirty. Maybe you should both go bath in the ocean. Take some sand and scrub. It's dangerous to has so much filth. Your dog could get a disease, and die. And ... those are fleas. Flea are very bad. They can make you, or Dog, or other people sick. We could get sick just for being near you. It's very bad to have fleas.

[esorscher]

Bruce listens to John with a quizzical look on his face, clearly not understanding all of the words that John uses. "Dog's not sick, me neither. Strong, like bull." He does respect John's wish, and takes a step away from John.

[darklink_shadow]

Oh? Are you a doctor? John asked, feigning surprise. Well, if you are a doctor, then I suppose you're not sick, huh? I guess that's good. Because, you know, if Dog get sick just because you were too lazy to wash him, and then he died from fleas, I bet he would be awfully upset at you. I sure hope the fleas don't get him sick... But you're a doctor right? I guess you know better than me, even though I am also a doctor.

[esorscher]

"I feel good. Dog feels good. Not sick." He laughs. "Dog lets you wash him, you go ahead. When he bites you, you be the doctor."

[blacklight101]

Ulric looks at the skraelingas he talks to the Orc, Bruce. He tries his best to suppress some laughter, since he is fairly sure the Orc won't understand most of what he's saying. He decides to give a more traditional warrior's greeting to him. Fist against his own chest, he introduces himself to Bruce, "Ulric. It seems we go north together."

[darklink_shadow]

Did Dog tell you that himself? That's interesting. How come he isn't talking now? But I guess you can do whatever you want. I am not going to wash your dog for you. It won't make me lonely if he gets too sick to play.

John looked at Ulric for a moment, and then sighed, and rolled his eyes. Well, anyways, I guess we are all going to go find the monster and deal with it.

[McTurbo]

As the orc approached and introduced himself Taleron's mind got filled with various swear words. Of course the orc was coming with them. He had hoped that the orc would have gone with the other orc to maintain the security of the foragers, but it seemed as if they weren't that lucky. Taleron put his hands into the pockets of his vest. He agreed with John in that physical contact with the orc should be left to a bare minimum and distance to maximum. "Taleron. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Hopefully using fancy words would discourage the orc from making further contact. He dearly hoped that they were going to split into groups.

[blacklight101]

"It seems so, he gives John a friendly slap on the shoulder, "may as vell make de best of it, yes?" He looks at the mismatched group that is forming around him and thinks to himself for a moment, Well, this should be an interesting trip, a little skraeling chatterbox, a reeking orc, and a landless noble. At least the monster should distract them from each other.

[tortor]

Looking down at the young girl, her common sounding broken and lilting even to his ears Morgan smiles If you keep the ocean on your right, you will be heading north, but you should wait til morning and leave with the rest of these fine men to protect you! A few more of the commoners volunteer for the various chores and Morgan continues to take down notes, one of the men from the back of the room his massive dog at his heels whispers into Morgans ear, whatever is passed between them Morgan nods solemnly and returns to his notes.
With a nat 20 you managed to overhear the man whispering that he and his men would be heading south, but wouldn't plan to be back for several days.

[TheStillWind]

Leone approaches the group of elves and the huge orc who volunteered to gather mushrooms.

"Excuse me folks. I am called Leone. After given it a think, I want to offer myself up to your job. I can certainly help identify mushrooms.. I am a scholar you see. And I am sure you could always use more security.

[tortor]

With the last of his necessary tasks filled out, Morgan puts away his notes and nods his thanks, before leaving, as he leaves the gnomish woman from before begins directing people on how to move the tables and where to stack them as people begin pulling out bedrolls and arranging for places to sleep, the spots near the fire going quickly as a small scuffle breaks out when one of the elves tries to lay in what one of the commoners claims is "his spot"

http://m1.behance.net/rendition/modules/98284575/disp/e2953dbd49bb982468d18dc4fe5d6cec.jpg

Seeing as it is late September, it is cold and wet outside.

[blacklight101]

After helping move a few of the tables and getting his bedroll laid out, Ulric steps outside to make sure Pyotir is adequately stabled and to retrieve the last few things he wanted from his pack saddle, namely his sword, shield, and armor. Walking back inside the common hall, he places his things in the corner he picked for himself. His furs should keep him warm enough against the cold, let the others fight over the spots by the fire he thinks to himself, this is not near the cold of home. Stripping off his shirt and rolling it up for a pillow, he settles in for the night. The slight chill coming from under the door reminds him of home and after sleep takes him, he dreams of the sea, the mountains, and the tundra.

[esorscher]

Bruce displays his prodigious strength in helping to move the tables and benches, then unfurls his bedroll and lies down close to the door. The winter chill is nothing compared to the tundra he calls home, and the cool breeze helps him to sleep. Dog curls up next to him, on his legs, and growls at anyone who comes to close. Both quickly fall asleep, though both are alert to any changes in the environment.

[darklink_shadow]

John is willing, but not as able as many of the others helping, however, he puts in a fair share of work. Once he finishes, he sits near a wall. It was cold here, but he had been sleeping out of doors for years without the warmth of a fire. His hide blankets had always been more than enough, often too much, warmth for him. He was hesitant to sleep in a building, let alone with so many people. After deciding that he would have to live as the others lived, he set up his bedroll at the opposite side of the room as the door, up against a wall.

[Yas392]

As soon as she gotten the directions, she heads out. THANKS. It is not like she had given up the opportunity to learn proper speech, she finds everything that it stands for is against her survivalist lifestyle. She find it better to put everything that she wanted to convey into one utterance. Having a tendency of not staying at one place for long, she departs out of sanctuary with a proud head, feeling most at home in wilderness as she follows the the instructed path. But she felt frigid cold liquid when she is making her makeshift bed. Not that she have not experience this kind of weather before.

[TheStillWind]

Leone does his fair and does not stop contributing until all the work is done. After, he strings up his hammock between two stout supports, securing himself a spot closer to the fire than what would be available to him on the crowded ground. He removes the shirt of chain steel worn under his tunic, leaves his boots on, and climbs up into his swinging bed.

[McTurbo]

Taleron mentally groaned at the physical labor, but helped move some of the tables nevertheless. After the work was finished, he picked a spot separate from the worst crowd around the fire, not wanting to have to deal with the hassle of everyone trying to get a good spot. In the end, he put down his bedroll, sitting down on it to meditate for a few minutes before finally going to sleep.

[tortor]

The night passes without incident, but the morning comes bitter as the sun tries feebly to burn its way through thick clouds, the ground outside churning quickly into mud as heavy rain falls drenching everything in sight. The groups prepare to head out, each gathering and being briefly instructed by Morgan, it turns out that the foragers will be out for only a few hours, in this weather, and will need to be able to find and return with enough food to last a couple of days, because the clouds seem to be getting worse. The dwarves have already left by the time everyone awakens and the men and their massive dog quickly take off south as Morgan organizes people.

The route north to the mountains will be a difficult trail to find as it is a natural trail and the water has already drenched most of it. However, that news isn't as bad as the reality, when you arrive at what should be the mountain trail you find it has turn into a small creek, almost a foot of water is clogging the rocky pass.
http://images.travelpod.com/users/franso/1.1267885625.rainy-skies-2.jpg

Foraging - 2 Survival Checks - 1 for each hour your out, DC 15 provides enough food for 1 person, for each 3 above that you feed an additional person. There are a total of 30 people who are surviving primarily on foraging and fishing.

Mountain Trail The trail is flooded and you will either need to find a new trail DC 20 Survival, try to climb the mountain side DC 20 Climb check, or slog you way through the thick rapid water and soak your clothes through.

[esorscher]

Survival 1: [roll0] Fail
Survival 2: [roll1] Success
Survival 3: [roll2] Success
Climb: [roll3] Unnecessary

Bruce walks toward the front of the group with Dog at his side. At the site of the stream, Dog jumps in the water quickly, then jumps out, shaking his wet fur dry. Even if Bruce did not understand about filthy creatures, Dog seemed to know himself well enough to know when he needed a bath. Dog is cleaner, though still not as clean as some prudish doctors might like. Bruce is by no means intelligent, but is wise enough to know better than to jump into water when it's cold out, having grown up in the tundra. He searches for another trail and is successful. Upon his success, he calls out, "Over here."

[blacklight101]

Hearing Bruce's call, Ulric leads his mule towards the sound of his rough, orcish voice. On the way, he makes sure to avoid getting wet. Cold as it was last night, and the way the sky looks today, staying dry was the best idea.

[darklink_shadow]

John stays next to the mule, for the most part, and brings up the rear. As odd as it was, the orc seemed to know where he was going. John suspected the brute was a survivor of a a great deal of time in the forest. The man's instincts would be sharp, even if his wits were dull. As filthy as he would be, Bruce would make a decent ally, if he could be taught how civilized people behave. John made a mental note of that, and smiled.

John decided to keep a sharp eye out for food along their path, since it seemed the orc could find their way forward without much help.


[roll0] To find food along the way. More of this can be rolled, as we walk for longer.

[McTurbo]

Taleron followed the others in silence, still slightly sleepy. The first night after a long trip over the ocean had been blissfully still, but he still wasn't used to constantly sleeping in a bedroll. Not to mention that he still found the idea of sleeping together in the same space with so many people slightly unnerving. And he still hadn't gotten used to traveling with armor on. There were many things he had to get used to, but that was to be expected in a total life overhaul.

The orc seemed to know what he was doing. He still didn't quite trust the intellectual capabilities of the orc, but at least he seemed no stranger to traveling in the wild. Taleron knew a lot about nature through his studies, but theory was different from practice, so he had to trust the orc's pathfinding. At least Ulric and John were content in following him, and Taleron was content in following them.

[Yas392]

Survival check to find shelter - [roll0]

OOC: I guess she is fatigued. See OOC.



Winds blowing, rain falling. The natural world is a world of it's own. Freely given sheltered is another world of it's own; the world that had she left when she undertook the trek to the north alone. The forest has a canopies, tree hole and resources to create a makeshift abode while a mountain is scarce. It has lesser than the forest to cover her for the night. The terrain is much rougher and there are more or less tougher game. The only source to sustain life is meat if lucky, water if she can hear the sound of the flow. No fruits and vegetation though. But a mountain pass must have some sort of hole she can crawl into. After all, bears uses cave, lions have den and some other species who created deeper nooks may fashion their habitat there. As she thinks of this, she lumber there and here for a cave to settle in her freezing body.

[TheStillWind]

EDIT: BAHHHH! Preview post error See OOC

Survival for mushrooms (inspiration on first roll)
[roll0]
[roll1]



Hide and MS if it wont slow anyone down
[roll2]
[roll3]





Leone heads out with the foragers bundled up in his cloak. If he shares a language with the elves or big orc he will make conversation.
The topics of conversation he brings up are:
"How far from the settlement have people gone and come back?"
"What made you decide to come to the new continent?"
"What are some threats that are commonly encountered in these areas?"
"Has anyone made any progress mapping the area?"
"You seem like a cohesive group; how do you handle threats? I want to compliment your styles when and if there is trouble."

Along the way he will keep his eyes open for anything else that looks useful (game for someone with a bow to take down, interesting land formations and locations).

[tortor]

Foraging
http://media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/736x/50/23/bd/5023bd3eeb0a5e58d2b786197fb54270.jpg
After wandering for sometime you come across a few patches of edible mushrooms, you also identify several species of plants you've never seen before. Most of the elves speak only elven, but it turns out one of them, a falconer who introduces himself as Calafas, speaks very limited common.
He explains as best he can that people have gone about a half day total and returned but that once you pass the River people tend to disapear. When asked about his reasons for coming to this new continent he keeps repeating a phrase or word in elvish which you can't for the life of you comprehend, and which he, for the life of him, cannot translate. He explains that there are a few beasts which one would do well to avoid, he describes one by placing his hands behind his head. He seems convinced this is the major thing to avoid. He also points at a flower nearby. A small rose looking flower with a red stem and throns, only a few inches tall, it grows in small patches here and there. He gestures with a wide encompassing of his arms and says to avoid big patches.

When you ask about mapping he seems perplexed and no matter how you explain it, it seems you lack the words for him to understand the concept.

Asking about combat he points to the various hiding spots about them and then makes a fanning motion with a flat hand and say they like to be small and unseen if possible.

[tortor]

Mountain Pass
http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2011/251/c/2/mountain_pass_by_kubawitowski-d497wfu.jpg

May picks her way up the rocky slope, a good 3 hours ahead of the rest of the group, her eyes alert as she reaches the snow line. The air bites as she winds her way through the towering rock spires. The sun glints off the snow blindingly for a moment and May blinks in pain as she walks, the bitter cold numbing her even through her furs. It's only when the slipping sound of gravel on stone is suddenly replaced with the sickly familiar sound of a cracking bone that may realizes she is standing in the entrance to a cave, the mouth of which is littered with bones.

Everyone Else plods along as Bruce leads the group up the gray granite walls, finding paths where others see nothing but flat stone as water slooshes down the slopes nearby. John busys himself examining the walls for anything edible, he finds a plant growing from the rocks which has berries that look like dull, grey olives hanging off its branches. The skin is thin, yet very tough, so tough that the knives the group has on them can't cut the fruit open. Suddenly a fork of lightning rips through the sky and shatters a stone ledge showering rocks down at the group. The group leaps to one side as rocks cascade down the face of the cliff, but one of them catches John in the leg, trapping his ankle between a pair of rocks. As John cries out in pain, Taleron surveys the sky as best he can, but the driving rain and howling wind are blinding and deafening.

[esorscher]

"I got you," Bruce says, using his considerable might to help extricate John from the situation that he has found himself in. "Be more careful," Bruce says, before continuing on up the mountain, Dog trotting along happily behind him.

[blacklight101]

Jogging upslope and out of the way of the rocks, Ulric drags Pyotir with him. Noticing the skraeling becoming stuck, he aids Bruce in freeing him.

After John is freed he keeps a close eye on the terrain to make sure they arent going to walk near any more troublesome spots like this.

[darklink_shadow]

Thank you, sorry. John says, rubbing his ankle. I suppose I am more used to the trees than the mountains. It really smarts, though. Perhaps if rocks are going to fall on us, we should look for cover?

[Yas392]

All fatigue and coldness evaporates in an instance. May surveys the cavern floors that littered by the bones of the fallen. Could it be that these are the ones that they have lost? A line slowly forms on her face. Her mind screams "FRESH GAME" and her body is tingling, arousing from the primal urge to hunt this hunter. Her bow is already unslung and she fishes out a smoke stick to anchor the string between her teeth. She embrace the shadow, silently moving some distance, listening for any signs of life. The night is still young and so is the hunt.


Take 20 on following skills; Hide, Move Silently, Listen

[TheStillWind]

Leone considers Calafas's advice while he gathers as many mushrooms as he can. He makes a mental note, -Most of the people in one of the major factions in the colony do not share a common language with me. -Consider possible risks and benefits to this. -Weigh costs and benefits to learning elven. -Fluent in sylvan. -Shared alphabet and many word cognates.

He takes some samples of the plants that are new to him, taking special care with the red-thorned rose that Calafas points out. He uses his tools and seals the sample in a vial.

On the hike back Leone will again chat with Calafas.

"Thank you for the conversation and advice, Calafas."

He asks Calafas to repeat the word he had trouble translating before when asked about why he came to the continent. Leone will try remember it for later.

As they near the last leg of the trip back Leone says, "Calafas, are you working toward any goals or on any special projects. I would be willing to keep my eye out for you or offer some friendly help if I can."

[McTurbo]

Taleron looked back down at the situation. While the others helped free John from under the rubble, he surveyed the surrounding area. There was no telling if the lightning bolt was natural or not. Taleron remembered reading about people tending to pay a lot more attention to the bad things that happen to them, but it still didn't close the possibility that someone was out there to get them. Sighing, he went to the others. "I think our best bet is to keep moving. The weather doesn't really seem like it's going to calm any time soon, so the faster we get this over with the faster we get to safety."

Spot check. Because why not.
[roll0]

[tortor]

Foraging
Over the heavy drone of insects Calafas is struggling with conversation, seemingly embarassed by his tongue tied nature. He is incredibly fluent in Elvish, which is surprising for an orc, but his grasp of common is tenuous at best. When you ask him to repeat the word he had difficulty in translating he repeats Randilema a few times. On the way home he tries to explain his goals and plans, but seems to tongue tied to offer any help on that. The group returns to Hardock just past mid afternoon with enough mushrooms and plants to feed around 10 people for a day, though not very well. Hopefully fishermen or hunters have done better. Along the way you have collected several types of mushrooms, a rose like flower with red thorns and the leaves of several vines and trees, some of which seem familiar and might be found in a horticulture book but many of which seem to be brand new to you.

May
The light shifts through the dark clouds as rain pelts down, the bones forming rivlets of water as you proceed towards the cave you hear the faint echo of some noise inside. Moving lightly, picking your way through the bones which lay scattered about the entrance you find yourself in the mouth of the cave, taking a few steps in you hear a low rumbling growl but the light fades rapidly inside the cave and your eyes simply aren't adjusting properly, you need some sort of light to be able to see once inside.

Mountain Pass
Having dug John out of the rocks the party continues slogging their way up the slopes, another bolt of lightning splits the rocks just 20 feet in front of the party, causing Pyotir to brey loudly and refuse to move forward until another bolt splashes down just behind the party. Ulric fears some evil spirit may be trying to interfere with the party as the frequency of strikes ebb and flow but never seem to stray more than 50 or 60 feet from the party. The swirling rain has the party all but lost as they are now all but scrabbling from rock to rock while streams gurgle past on every side. With each flash of lightning the party can't help but shake the feeling they are being watched, but despite their best efforts (and rolls) no one seems to see anything but water and rocks in every direction. In the distance maybe a 30 minute walk up the slicked and rapidly disappearing slope lie a cave mouth, a stark black against the lighter stone, a gaping empty which shone whenever the lightning struck. Slightly down slope towards the east there appears to be some sort of shelter where three rocks have leaned against one another and the rain doesn't seem to be getting in it. It would only take a good 5 minutes to scrabble DOWN to the shelter, but getting back up would involve climbing the slick rock face. http://i.imgur.com/BfhUVWh.jpg

[blacklight101]

"Magic and spirits, I tell you, they try to scare us away! Ve must seek shelter and do something to ward ourselves against them!" All this communicated at near a yell over the downpour and thunder, which just cant be entirely natural. "Ve can't give ground, ve need to go higher!"

Lightning striking all around, Pyotir brays and stubbornly stands his ground. The next three lightning strikes-and suitable encouragement from Ulric- seeming to change his mind, they proceed to the harder (for now) path up the hill, hoping others will follow. The climb back up would be no easier when the rocks were wet; it may take longer to go higher now, but he trusted a cave more than some fallen-together rocks in an unnatural storm like this.

[esorscher]

Bruce follows eagerly, Dog trotting along behind him.

[McTurbo]

Taleron kept following in silence. He smiled at Ulric's talk about evil spirits. The weather had definitely not been natural, just as he had thought. Evil spirits were an unlikely reason for the hostile weather, but there was definitely someone out there, determined to halt their progress. Who and why were questions that desperately needed answers. It had seemed that the higher they climbed, the worse the weather had been so it was safe to assume that who- or whatever was causing the weather didn't want anyone to get higher. Which means they needed to go higher. The sooner, the better.

[Yas392]

She takes out her flint and steel and a stick. A brusque brush, the flint cracks, sending spark into the wood lighting it. But with a torch, she will lose out her advantage of ending her prey afar but it is better she knows what dwell in the cave and it does not favour bows due to the darkness. A glint and her dagger is in her hand. If she is staring at a bear then so be it. Even in the heavy rain, she keeps her instinctual awareness high.


Readied restricted withdraw as a standard action if there are hostile(s).
Switch bow for dagger
Listen - [roll0]
Spot - [roll1]

[tortor]

May
The torch hisses and spits as water drips from the entrance of the cave, even now, deep puddles have formed around the huntress ankles making silence all but impossible as she moves forward. Dripping sounds press in; the comfort and warmth of the torch throws stark contrast to the penumbral shadows it illuminates. The cave mouth may have been littered with bones, but the cave itself is entirely barren of any signs of inhabitants nothing here but the drip, drip drip. No debris, no bones or droppings fill the cave. As the Huntress makes her way back however she begins to see movements at the edge of her torch light, massive sliding forms. Dripping fills the air, like an indoor rain as the cave shudders slightly, rocks tumbling from place as something deeper seems to exhale deeply.

A whisper off in the distance. Drip. Another whisper. Hushed silence. Drip. There is definitely something in here.

Mountain Pass
Climbing desperately the party finds their way hard, boulders laying in what was once a path, strewn there by the growing rivulets of water. The climb and the weather take their toll on the group, and by the time they reach the cave mouth, Bruce and Taleron find themselves having to stop more and more often, the unusual weather Fatiguing them. The group glances around the cave entrance and quickly spots the bones, and, deep within the cave the flash and flicker of a torch bobbing about in the depths.

[blacklight101]

Breathing heavily upon reaching the mouth of the cave, Ulric was happy to be able to rest- for a moment at least- then he saw the torch disappearing into the cave. "I see a light," he says as he draws his sword, "that may be what tried to stop us coming up the hill." Before he sets off in search of the bearer of the light, he lights his own torch.




Oh, this dude is going down! Imma stab him in the eye for dropping rocks at us. Stab him in the eye with a bastard sword.

[esorscher]

Bruce draws his weapon, ready for anything and eager for a chance to stretch his smashing muscles.

It may be someone we can reason with, someone with knowledge of the wilds that might be useful. But Bruce would never suggest that.

[Yas392]

May assesses the situation.

Cave empty. Two or more big hunters. Deep breathing. A growl.

She knows that bears or dire version of the wolves or lions often make their home here. The dark is her bane. She lacks the vision that her ancestor's have; the ability to peer in the dark. It would have been more interesting if she could see what she is fighting without the torch. However, the outlines alert her of the threat. Two predators are too much for her. They are large. She needs advantages like a clear picture of her prey (which is impossible to reveal due to the torch's limited range and brightness) and cover (which she lacks because of her torch) to kill them. The last thing she will do is to draw them outside where it will be a battle of attrition. The smokestick drops onto her hand as quick as she switch with the dagger that she held in her remaining hand. Her mouth now biting onto the hilt of the dagger, she moves the torch closer to the smokestick as she continues to retreat. She keeps her eyes and ears peeled. If she sees or hear the predators lunge towards her, her hands will ignite the smokestick and toss it behind her.

[McTurbo]

Taleron dragged himself to the cave entrance behind the others, fatigued by his struggle against the blowing winds. He looked at the distant light in the cave and smiled as he saw Ulric lighting his torch. "This is how you light a torch, my friend." Taleron reached his hands behind him, reaching into his backpack and pulling from within a fully lit torch. He held it in his left hand, detaching his crossbow from his belt with his right hand. Then he forced himself to put on a serious face. He could barely contain his excitement. He had never been in a true life-or-death situation before. "We need to be careful. We have no idea who or what could be in there."

[tortor]

May
Retreating slowly, the torch sputters and flares shortly and May sees what she had missed previously, a small passage branching off to her left, roughly hewn stairs leading up at a harsh angle, wind howls above and she can hear.. chanting? Yes, chanting from up the stairwell. Figures move at the mouth of the cave, humanoids. The dripping rings in her ears maddeningly.

[darklink_shadow]

Limping slightly, John put extra weight on his staff as he walked. The climb down into the cave was tiring, but once inside the cave, the initial pain of the wound faded slightly. He reached into his pack and drew out his everburning torch as well, giving a nod to his companion with the same style of light. It may be wise to consider the option that the person within this cave was trapped by the storm, and not causing the storm. Furthermore, if this person did cause the rain, he or she will have no idea that we are onto them. It may be best to precede as friends first, but be wary and ready for a fight.

[Yas392]

She keeps her hand firm on the stick. She saunters up the stairs carefully, torch still ablaze, wary (as in spotting and listening kind of wary). If it is those clowns from earlier on, she would not even care and turn away, using this cave until the rain subsides. She just needs to confirm the growling. There are bones scattered around. They must be good hiders. Or stalking her from behind, unseen as if wanting her to lower her guard so that they can strike. Maybe they are above her, she got to consider that. She will retain her previous plan in her head (throwing down the smokestick and running away if they pounce from up the stairs from front, above the ceiling or from her behind where she came from ).

Spot (Above, behind and in front of her) - [roll0]
Listen - [roll1]

[tortor]

Cave - May edges up the rough staircase, and hears what sounds like chanting from above her, all but drowned out by the rain and thunder outside, suddenly a figure, squat and humanoid, leaps from the shadows, meeting a face full of smoke and falling back down the stairs in surprise. You hear it run, squawking an alarm towards the cave mouth the shifting and rumbling of a large hunter close behind it.

With a shout, the torch is gone and thick smoke billows from the cave, a crash resounds from within as metal strikes stone, a loud rumbling begins to echo from within the caves depths as a figure comes sprinting towards the cave mouth, a shield dangling limply from its arm and a some sort of spear swinging in its other hand as it sprints, squawking loudly in the darkness. Just before it reaches the mouth of the cave something lurches and snaps, the squawking cut suddenly short by a crunching sound. A low rumble echoes as a creature emerges from the cave glowering down at the party

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v141/depecheboy/cavedweller_final.jpg


Actions will be sorted into order afterwards for those who hate waiting.

May
Ulric
Beast
Bruce
John
Taleron

[tortor]

May fires her bow at the large figure she hears move past the smoke, her shot going wide and skittering off the wall of the cave, the chanting from above is now accompanied by curious voices and movement, someone is coming down the stairs towards her.

Ulric hears the thrum and clattering of an arrow being fired. The beast lifts it head snorting and bellows from the mouth of the cave rain water drippiing down across its features. The beast holds its ground and Ulric can see the scars of combat marring its skin. It leans forward and weaves its head back and forth as though searching for the party that's standing no more than 15 feet in front of it.

[darklink_shadow]

John raises a hand, and looks behind him, too distracted by a flying arrow to remember what creature this this, if he even ever knew. Creature who is blind, and scarred, we mean no harm. There are some beyond our group who seem to wish you pain, but not us. We are merely hiding from the storm. A wicked and powerful force assails us with no cause, and we have been forced to take shelter in this cave. It appears to me that this cave is yours, and we ask that you allow us to remain here peacefully. We will let you pass to investigate what desires your blood, and if you can communicate with us, I will come with you to see what can we seen. It is clear to me that you lack sight, but if you will allow it, I will be your eyes as you seek out revenge upon those who would harm you. I suspect now that they may be the same as those who are my enemy as well, those who would cause rain and thunder to block our path. Please, though you have no reason to do so yet, trust that those among my small group mean you no harm, and we appear to have a common foe. Let us help you slay them, and then allow us to wait out the storm, and we will be on our way without conflict.

John paused and licked his lips. If you can understand me, but cannot speak, perhaps a simple mechanism can be employed. Stamp your foot, or growl once if you understand. Twice if you agree. Thrice if you do not agree, and want us to leave.

[blacklight101]

Ulric waits slightly behind John, ready to strike if the creature should attack. Seeing its wounds and initial reluctance to launch an attack give him pause and when John starts to speak to it, he waits with drawn blade to see its reaction.

[esorscher]

Bruce looks at the obvious monster, ready to charge headlong into the fray as is his nature. When John begins talking to it, he stops, and looks quizzically from John, to the monster, and back to John. "Talking wastes time. I fight monsters," he says simply, but he doesn't attack, yet, instead readying his charge for when John inevitably fails.

[darklink_shadow]

John frowns at Bruce and shakes a finger. Come on Bruce. Why is he a monster and not you? You probably smells better than you do. Even if we fight, he hasn't done anything to prove he is a monster. If you killed him just because he looked different, you would be a monster. Only monsters kills thing for such stupid reasons.

Grimly, John thought that this creature probably wouldn't agree not to fight, but what choice did John have? He didn't know what it was, and without being forced into it, he was not willing to attack the creature. What if it was just scared because we broke into its house? Maybe its actually a nice creature. Maybe it has a family. You don't know, and neither do I. Unless it tries to hurt someone, we should give it the benefit of doubt. If humans were as eager for war as you are acting right now, Bruce, orcs would never have been accepted. Orcs look very different, and a little scary, compared to a human. You're big, green, and have those big teeth. But you're not a bad guy. You even helped me when rocks fell on me. What if he will help us find who is making the storm?

[blacklight101]

Glancing between Bruce and John, seeing that they and the creature have held their ground so far, Ulric has hope that this might not end in bloodshed. Maybe this shelter would be rather safe after all... he could only hope. He lowers his blade a bit, but still keeps it at a low guard position. Not blatantly aggressive, just prepared.

"Look at his scars, he carries many wounds. Must have taken one of his eyes de vay he searches for us. He may react as one cornered, should we go closer." Ulric flinches and wipes at his face with his sleeve as he says this, his torch popping and sending a little burning pitch onto his cheek.

[darklink_shadow]

John licked his lips again, and nodded. Its scars also show that it is a difficult creature to kill. Some of those scars are frightfully deep, and yet it lives. It is a strong thing, whatever it is. It has survived wounds that would kill many lesser beasts. He will be a grim foe, if he is not a powerful ally. I, for one, have always preferred allies over foes, especially when it came to the powerful ones.

Pausing again, he waited for the beast to respond. And regardless, we are the invaders here. This is not our land. It would be wise of us to make friends of the locals, lest we find that we are not welcome.

[blacklight101]

"I believe you haff it. Vell said, skraeling," Ulric says with a bit of a smile, given the tenuous situation.

[tortor]

The beast pounds the ground at the cave entrance in a show of dominance, clearly unwilling to advance any farther. If it understands the common tongue it shows no signs of it, bellowing loudly Suddenly jerking it spins around, and barrels back toward something in the cave and out of line of sight of the group.

May sees the creature just in time, rolling to one side as it brings a massive fist down right where she was standing a few moments before, blindly battering the floor. It turns slowly, about to advance on MAy when a squawked voice calls some sort of challenge from the smoke and the beast turns and bellows at it, barreling off towards this new enemy.

[Yas392]

May rolls away in anticipation. She laughs as the creature finally recognized her as a worthy opponent but is disappointed as it brushes her aside and target its new prey. Upon seeing the party, her expression is derisive. YOU! However, the image is bright in her mind and she twists her body to the large creature that zips pass her, intending on claiming the creature's life for her pleasure.

[darklink_shadow]

John looked to at his small party, then nods. It pounded the earth twice, though I am not certain it is in agreement. However... do either of you recognize the woman with so much hate in her eyes?

John flourished his staff, and held it behind his back. Regardless, we should go after the beast. Whatever has triggered it's rage is likely a foe who should destroy. Be wary of that woman, however... she is clearly out for blood. Likely she is a larger threat than that creature ever was. If she draws steel on you, attack. I've rarely seen such a derisive look, and it was never from the sort of person you'd want to call friend. Bruce, if she doesn't back down, you have my permission to call her a monster. We've done nothing to her, and her tone of contempt and malice was clear. I think it was her that hurled those bolts of light at us.

[blacklight101]

"I do not recognize her," Ulric replies. That may be de hexe that was casting de lightning, keep your guards high." He considers very strongly dropping his torch, as the others have magic ones, and readying his shield.

[darklink_shadow]

John wields his torch in one hand, and his staff in the other. Take point my armored friend. Something that lies up those stairs is wicked. We cannot escape this unnatural storm unless we defeat them.

John exhales, a little nervous that his second day off ship is ending with violence of this caliber. But what choice did he have? His attackers wielding magic far greater than his. The only way to defeat a foe more powerful than you is to strike first. I would think our best option is a quick offensive this time... no time for talking. Try not to kill anyone, but if they die, we had no choice. If any of them live, we can interrogate them, after binding their hands.

[esorscher]

Bruce laughs, a barking sound. "Hah!" What he is laughing at is not entirely clear, but perhaps it is the thought that he would need John's permission to do anything. He thumps his fist on his chest, saddened that he did not get to attack the big monster. "Big monster, good fight. Small woman, not so much." He moves to the front of the party, at Ulric's flank, with Dog on the other side of the armored man, the mongrel's teeth bared.

Seriously, that was an awesome readied attack roll and max damage. Bummer city. To be clear, Darklink_shadow, you are talking about attacking Yas's character, not the monster?

[Yas392]

She shakes her head, still having her back turn even if the party or someone is trying to defend against her "rage and malice" which she has not shown any. Perhaps the tone of her voice or the arrow she shot? The company that arrived is a mere annoyance to her because they disrupted her hunt. And someone was here first and is hunting the giant? She groans, she could not have a quieter pastime in this new continent.

CHANTING.

She leers at the stairway, smoke continuously blot out the bearings of those who would investigate. She will make them pay. A claimed mark is bad mark. She lost interest in the giant. A resound from the clapping of fists.

PAY!

She runs to where the giant had stopped, intending on finding out her target to injure.

[darklink_shadow]

John heard the singular words from the woman and frowned. What? What is she trying to say? You? Chanting? Pay?

Giving Ulric a look, he shrugged. Regardless... I think she might not be an enemy... just out to make Bruce look like a candle.

[tortor]

May - Investiagating finds the beastie fighting some poorly equipped native with what appears to be a crudely crafted spear. The creature appears to be orcish in ancestry. As it whoops and lunges at the beast, repeatedly making loud almost obnoxious yells which seem to disorient and confuse the beast. Jabbing in the native lands a light cut with it's spear. The beast bleeds slightly as the native dances almost ritualistically out of reach.

https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-RVZ-aiAIqRk/Um6wJUb3JII/AAAAAAAAAWE/p7lXPOGfcGk/s800/PathOrcs2.png

OOC - Top of the Intitiative Rotation.

[Yas392]

But he...what is going on?

ORC?!

She turns to Bruce and back, looking back and fro at him and the resident.

[esorscher]

Bruce recalls a similar rite of passage among his own tribe, but instead of a giant, cave-dwelling beast, males of the tribe (and females, for that matter), were to dance the death-dance with one of the shaggy, tusked, mammoth-boars that dwelt there. Attacking either of the combatants would disrupt the ritual and draw the fury of the orc--if, what was happening here, was similar to what happened among his own youth. "Watch. Wait. Talk time." He suggests, and lowers his combat stance, though keeps his axe in hand. In Orcish, he calls out, "<Want help?>"

[tortor]

The beast slams at the Orc, sending him skidding backwards from the blow. The orc barks something at Bruce which sounds VAGUELY orcish.. however its to far removed from standard orcish to decypher (think italian vs brazilian spanish) The orc jabs its spear at the beast, driving the point home. This one cuts deep. The creatures blood now dribbles freely on the caves surfaces, a groan of (**** adjectives.. I'll get back to you on this) is heard from the beast as it limply bats at the orc who hoots and slaps his spear on the floor, clearly trying to antagonize the beast into charging him again.

[darklink_shadow]

John watches the fight with some disgust, but he swallows that and looks at Bruce. What did he say? Or, even, what did you say?

[blacklight101]

"Dis has de look of ritual combat, rite of passage." Ulric says this with some surety, thinking of several of his own scars earned in his Trials of Manhood with his Clan.

[esorscher]

"He don't want help. I asked." Bruce says. He smiles, his crooked brown teeth showing his pleasure at encountering another orc in this area. No matter the barriers to communication their dialects pose, already he feels more kinship with the man proving his worth than he does with the others he has encountered here. That orc would never ask him to bathe.

Damn our anthrocentric language. There should be a word for male orc.

[darklink_shadow]

John bit his tongue for a moment, and nodded. So, we just watch then?

[esorscher]

"Yes. Don't mess with test." Bruce said. And he was supposed to be the dumb one.

[Yas392]

The huntress steps back out of reach of the beast in case she gets hit in its battle. Mesmerized, she observes the techniques that the orc uses as he dodge most of the blows and retaliate with its graceful style.

[tortor]

The Beast backs away leerily from the Orc who pursues it relentlessly, gashing its arms and legs countless times, wearying the poor creature like a matador might tire a bull. Stumbling backwards the creature bellows again, this time the fear exhaustion in its voice sounding more pathetic than terrifying. The orc charges the beast, his spear point finding it's mark in the beasts right shoulder, the weapon lodging in the wound as the creature staggers to the ground, swatting at the air before collapsing to the floor of the cave.

The Orc dislodges his spear, holding it threateningly before him as he eyes the group and demands something in his strange orcish Dialect, the only word which Bruce even REMOTELY understands is something akin to his word for what. And then barks several words up the stair case from which reply several squawking barks and the sounds of footsteps...

[esorscher]

In the Orcish he knows, Bruce says, "<Orc.>" and thumps his chest, then "<Orc.>" gesturing to the other Orc. He gestures around with his hands, point his fingers to his eyes and then around the cave. "<We look. Yes?>" He gestures to himself, and the rest of the party, and smiles widely, lowering his stance. "<Brothers,>" he says, pointing to the native. "<Friends.>"

[darklink_shadow]

John adjusts the grip on his staff, so as to use it as a walking stick, rather than a weapon. Whatever it was Bruce was saying, he seemed to no longer be threatening the orc. Perhaps the ordeal would end peacefully. If these were natives, perhaps trade relations could flourish from this meeting.

[McTurbo]

Taleron watched as the orc engaged the beast. This seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity. Taleron had never witnessed a ritual such as this, and so he watched in a mixture of shock and awe. The orc was no stranger to combat, the beast was completely at his mercy. He knew the rules, and so did the party; he didn't show any aggression towards the party and the party withdrawed from his private duel, for that would be the same as a challenge. Taleron was thinking of the full commitment of the orc. This was a person who had fully dedicated his life to combat. Taleron watched in awe, realizing that he would never be able to get this kind of display from any other guy.

He shaked his head. He looked around and picked a spot next to a wall, so that he would be as protected as possible by the other people around him if either the orc or anyone not present at the moment would attack the party. He watched interested as the orcs were trying to tell each other how they were feeling, trying to make each other understand despite the obviously different dialects. If this were to succeed, they might be in a very good situation. The orc was very strong and someone like that was much nicer as an ally rather than as an enemy.
Whoever spots it first gets a cookie.

[tortor]

The orc barks a few things in his odd squawking version of Orcish, things that Bruce can only guess at, but his body language is clear. Spear still raised he sinks back on his rear leg. From the stairwell emerges an unarmed female orc and several adult males, also unarmed. The female seems to question the warrior who replies with some gruff warning that Bruce understands to mean something similar to his word for danger. At this the woman and a few of the men run back up the staircase as the other male continues inquisitively toward the party hands up placatatingly as the warrior continues to bark warnings at him from behind. He replies with what sound to be soothing words. Continuing toward the party.

[blacklight101]

I watch and see what happens, I don't think he's going to attack, but i'll be on my guard as a precaution.

[tortor]

The orc continues blithely in his language, but Bruce can't seem to understand more than one word out of twenty, and it's all to fast to piece together. His intonations and inflection seem even harder to comprehend and before long bruce has a massive headache.

"blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah certain blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah ribbons blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah leave blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah from blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah want?"

Three orcs appear at the stairwell, each now wielding crudely crafted spears and wearing some type of red and white paint across their bared chests. They begin advancing behind the talkative orc, spears raised as the orcish warrior stands behind them, appearing to order the talkative orc to the stairwell. He replies with an upraised hand and then reaches out for the party, hope in his eyes.

[esorscher]

"<Talk slow.>" Bruce says. He moves closer to the orc and the three orcs pushing him up the stairs. "<Where you taking him, why?>"

"Follow me, follow them." Bruce says to the party.

[blacklight101]

Ulric lowers his sword, shrugs, and follows Bruce. At least if they decide to get aggressive, they're all in one place now. He sends a sharp whistle back to the mouth of the tunnel, Pyotir would be sure to hear it and follow along shortly.

[darklink_shadow]

John can see diplomacy attempts pretty easily, and this one was obvious enough. Having already deweaponized himself, he takes a few steps towards the ambassador orc, and extends his hand as well. You probably can't understand what I am saying, but I am glad one of you is peacebound. This will do wonders for our future friendship.

After that, he speaks his druidic introduction, just in case one of them is a druid. Were that the case, the language barrier would be easier to fell than a whatever strange beast the other orc had slain. If not, he had done his best. Regardless he hoped a handshake would settle things peacefully. He smiled widely, and he attempted to engage in first contact with these natives of the new world peacefully. Trade relations would do wonders for both the small city, and John's own desire to act as a merchant in these wild lands.

[tortor]

The diplomat blinks at the offered hand, seemingly confused and then shows you his, points to it and says Do-Ram speaking slowly and concisely for you. Then looking at your hand repeats your druidic words phonetically as best he can and points at your hand. The warrior barks a warning and the diplomat replies with some soothing word or another and the warrior dismissively grunts and walks up the stairs, making a show of turning his back on these newcomers as his warriors lower there spears and follow him back up the stairs, leaving the diplomat alone with the party at the base of the stairwell. He points up the stairwell and enunciates Vo. Tar. before continuing up the stairs a massive smile across his face.

http://curtisrhodes.com/images/caveStairs.jpg

[blacklight101]

Ulric puts his sword away and snuffs out his torch. He is content for the time being to wait, watch, and evaluate. Pyotir wanders in after a moment and nudges him with his head. Only knocked slightly off balance for a second, he takes the time to tie down his pack, now carrying only his sword and shield. He does his best to make as little noise as possible.

[darklink_shadow]

John's smile lessens slightly, as he narrows his eyes and tilts his head, confused. Do-Ram? He says, pointing at the orc. Pointing at another Orc, he says again Do-Ram?

Pointing to Bruce, he asks again, Do-Ram? Hopefully this will clarify if Do-Ram is their word for person, orc or something similar, or if Do-Ram is the name of the man.

John points to Ulric, and then himself, both times saying Human.

John points to himself, Ulric and then Bruce, saying eat of their names. He then turns and grabs Ulric's hand and shakes it. Hello. Putting his arm around Ulric's shoulder, he smiles much too large, emphasizing happiness. He extends his hand to the orc ambassador again. Hello.

[tortor]

The orc blinks slowly and stares at you as though you must clearly be slow in the head. Pointing to his hand he says Hoo-men?

[darklink_shadow]

John shakes his head, No.

Poiting at Ulric and then himself, he says again: Human.

Pointing at Bruce and the Ambassador, he says No human. A pause, Orc.

[tortor]

A glimmer of understanding passes through the orcs eyes as he nods pointing to himself Ruk then to bruce Ruk then waves at the rest of you Gah-Juhtar Then he points to himself Ba-Ruk.

[darklink_shadow]

John's smile grows more potent as he nods. Ruk! He points at Bruce, and then says Ruk. Orc.

He points at himself and says Gah-Juhtar. Human.

Next he points at Bruce again and says Bruce.

Finally he points at Ulric and then himself saying Ulric. John.

After another nod he points at the ambassador and gives a look of confusion before saying hesitantly Ba-Ruk?

[tortor]

The Orc nods emphatically and points to John Ja-Oohmen then to Bruce Brew-Ruk then to Ulric with confusion Ul... Ruk????

[darklink_shadow]

John shakes his head. Riiiic. Ulriiiic. Ulric. No, Ulruk. Ulriiic.

Pointing to himself he says John. No Johnuman. John.

Happy that the basics are understood, he follows the orc up the stairs now.

[tortor]

The orc laughs loudly as he leads the party up the stairs... Jah-Juhtar, da-ert! he says, smiling proudly as he walks up the stairwell, at the top of the stairs you find yourselves in carved out passages as your new companion chuckles to himself Ul-rik.. aha! as you turn a corner you see two pairs of bright red eyes watching you from a dark corner and hear a whisper that you can't make out. Ba-Ruk slaps the sides of his legs and smiles calling out Seh-Rik! Sa-Ruk! Pa-shi.. Pa-shi! He gestures at the party Gah-Juhtar! Eh? Pa-shi! After an obvious hesitation you see two much smaller orcs, one a female, the other a child you can't quite identify, step out of the shadows, eyes darting from the party to Ba-Ruk then back.. The child looks at Ba-Ruk and says something incredibly quick to which Ba-Ruk replies by kicking the child firmly and some words which sound like scolding.


http://www.terminally-incoherent.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2008/08/orc_mother_and_son.jpg

[Yas392]

May has simply put away her bow and acts normal as in the settlement. She figures there is no point fighting any longer and since she left early to investigate, might as well get the introduction over with, gesturing to herself.

May.

[darklink_shadow]

John narrows his eyes, thinking before nodding to himself. Ba-Ruk? He says, trying to get the man's attention. Ruk. Rik.

He points at Bruce Ruk.

He points at the female orc. Rik?

He then points at May, and asks, Rik?

Finally he gestures at himself Ruk?

Perhaps Ruk and Rik are genders of the same word, meaning Orc, but possibly merely meaning man and woman. Jah-Juter could be merely "Outsider" and not "Human" in their tongue. That would explain the chuckle at Ulric's name. If Rik was woman, Ulric had a girl's name. Or maybe there was something else going on.

[tortor]

Nodding at first, the orc quickly waves his hands dismissivley when you call May Rik Juhtir. Mah-Juhtir. He seems to be very firm on this. As the child yells something at you, the only words of which you catch seem to be the word Gah-Juhtar. The child spits at your feet and runs off Ba-Ruk shouting after him as the woman leans in and whispers to Ba-Ruk before wandering off down a side passage after the child. Ja-Juhtar. Qamek? He says, turning to join, his words sound expectant now.

[darklink_shadow]

John looks sad at the child at it runs away. He gave Ba-Ruk a concerned look, but he kept a hopeful, but worried smile. Qamek?

He turns his hand upside down and makes a walking motion with two of his fingers, and then walks a short distance. No Qamek? He makes the same legs with his fingers, but they instead just stand, and John just stands.

John gives Ulric a look displaying amusement, excitement, but a hint of anxiety. He looks back up at the orc again. May-Juhtir. Yes. May-Rik? No. May-Ruk? No. May-Juntir? Yes. Ba-ruk? Yes. John-Rik? No. John-Juhtir? Yes.

John swallows, and touches his chin. An earlier conversation made a little bit of sense suddenly. He pointed at his stomach. Do-Ram? No.

He pointed at his hand. ​Do-Ram? Yes. Do-Ram.

He nodded slowly. Yes.

He shook his head, and made a slightly angry face. No.

Yes. A smile and a nod.

No. A frown and he shhok his head. Qamek? John walked toward Ba-Ruk.

[esorscher]

Bruce, never being especially gifted with words, sits back as what is transpiring flies completely over his head. Whatever nonsense the talky-man and the talky-orc are doing, he has no patience for it, but he follows, taking in what he can through observation from the orc culture, which has an uncanny feeling of being both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

[McTurbo]

Taleron followed in amusement as John was fumbling to communicate with the orc. The word exchange was going surprisingly well and Taleron kept taking mental note of all the words and their meanings. Ruk seemed to refer to a male orc, Rik to a female one, Juhtar to either humans or non-orcs. Do-ram seemed to mean hand, but that knowledge was frankly quite useless. Taleron thought about the scribing tools he had decided not to take with him. It seemed that it would have been a good idea to take them after all. In any case, it was probably best to just observe. He thought about introducing his name, but it was long and complicated anought that it might just make things more difficult.

[blacklight101]

Ulric is content to watch and be used as an example now and then by John, he does his best to follow what is happening. At least they all seemed confused by some part or another of all this, he didnt feel so bad about the conversation passing him by like winds across the tundra. Ulric glances towards the others now and then to see if they're picking up more than he has been.

[Yas392]

May is disinterested with the fiasco of guess and tell. If she had the ability to pick up the words easily, she would rather toss the knowledge into the burner. It is useless in her hobby but she half listen in case she has to draw upon the knowledge to negotiate with another orc party if they are proven friendly. She standby and let John deal with it as he is the best spokesman of the group. She could not utter more than one word let alone maintain a conversation with an orc.

[tortor]

The orc waves his hand dismissively again.. and pauses... struggling briefly for some concept before appearing to give up. He mouths quietly to himself as he leads the group around a corner and what you see next is more than any of the party had expected.

A massive cavern stretches onward beyond sight. Easily hundreds of feet high the whole ordeal is cast into a gloomy twilight by some faint blue lights which seem to fade in and out of view. As you walk along you see huts, some on the floor of the cavern, but many more perched precariously along the narrow ledges of the wall. Each hut seems to be made of the skull of some massive creature with a single dome of leather being supported by a structure which, upon closer inspection appears to be the ribcage of an equally massive being.

http://i.imgur.com/5WgAi1F.png

Leading you past several off these you see families gathering in the mouths of many of them, staring at you with mixed expressions. After awhile you find yourself in front of a massive stone monolith, below which are seated two orcs, the warrior from before, now wrapped in several furs with a necklace made of bones about his neck. His weapon lies beside him, point facing away from you, along the length of the weapon lay a variety of skulls.

To the left of the warrior sits an ancient tattoed orc. His eyes appear white and murky with blindness but his smile is clear enough as he mutters a word that Bruce recognizes as akin to his word for greeting close friends.

http://i.imgur.com/g5JHP0f.jpg

A brief and seemingly very formal and ritualized conversation passes between the elder and Ba-Ruk before the orc takes a seat at the left hand of the elder. Speaking to the other orcs Ba-Ruk speaks in a slow and rhythmic pattern. Qamek Ko-Ruk, Qamek Dal-Ruk, Gah-Juhtar. Ae Jah-Juhtar, Mah-Juhtir Ul-Juhtir e- he pauses as he comes to Taleron before introducing him as Slah-ool-Juhtar.

The elder gestures to the floor before him, speaking a word you can't quite discern, while Ba-Ruk silently pantomimes a sitting motion with his hands.

[blacklight101]

Ulric, glancing between the two orcs, catches on after a moment. He crosses his legs under himself, adjusts his sword, and gets comfortable. Not every day you get to sit in on another tribe's rites of passage.

[McTurbo]

Taleron smiled, looking at the orcs who presumably were Ko-Ruk and Dal-Ruk, ending his gaze at Ba-Ruk. It seemed that introductions were in place after all. It was quite apparent that names tended to be quite short, so his long name might cause confusion. Tal-Juhtar. Taleron gave a slight nod and sat down. After all that walking up the mountainside sitting on the cave floor felt unbelievably comfortable. He just hoped that he hadn't offended any of the orcs by speaking up. It was probably still better than being referred to as the nameless stranger, or the quiet stranger or whatever Slah-ool-Juhtar had meant. He resisted the urge to look around like an eager boy on a field trip. While the orcs and their culture were definitely interesting, it was probably best to stay calm and collected during whatever seremony was underway. First impressions were always important.

[darklink_shadow]

John marveled at the blue lights, reaching out to touch them as they walked.

Even more exciting was the impressively large skulls that these people lived in. As they walked past the people's lands, he smiled warmly at everyone. He gestured a mild hello at a few of them.

When they reached the ancient orc, John bowed before he sat down. They might not have this tradition in their lands, but reverence and respect should be obvious in his motion. While Taleron might be able to control himself, John just smiled as he looked at everything in his line of sight. He reached out to touch Ba-Ruk. Qamek? John gestured at the two people before them.

He smiled and nodded. I see. John rubbed his chin, and wondered about the word Juhtar. It might really mean warrior. If that was the case, John was not a warrior, and he has been put into the wrong cast. Perhaps he was a Qamek, which seemed to be either wiseman or leader. He wondered if they had a merchant cast. If anything, John planned to be a merchant, and a diplomat.

And then there was Gah-Juhtir. The child had yelled that and spat at him. What did that mean? However, "ae" was very clearly "this is" or "these people are" or something. "e" seems to be "and."

John wondered a bit more, but really, there was nothing he could do to figure it out yet. He just sat and smiled. Badly, he wanted to now the purpose and meaning of the tattoos and the purpose of the monolith and what creatures the skulls were from, and what they grew, hunted, and ate. Everything was interesting to him. He wanted to learn the language well enough to learn to ask the questions that burned in his mind, but were twarted by the difference of tongues.

[tortor]

As Taleron speaks the warrior snaps something fairly aggressive at him and the elder explains something in muttered words while Ba-Ruk desperately tries to translate the exchanges

Qamek Ko-Ruk he points to the warrior again No Yes? He says attempting to translate it into your language for you, fumbling with his very basic words. Qamek Dol-Ruk he points to the elder Ae Kjani! He says smiling widely as he hands John a bowl of food. Kjani va Qamek..?He seems to hesitate on the word Jah-Juhtar he motions to John smiling.

[darklink_shadow]

John accepts the food and passes it to the person sitting beside him. Placing a hand on his own chest, he asks gingerly, Jah-Qamek?

Rubbing his chin again, he sighs. Maybe.

[tortor]

Jah-Juhtar, e Qamek va Gah-Juhtar? The Elder speaks in a slow plodding tone then with a lazy looking circling motion indicates the three orcs seated together Ae Qamek va Gah-Ruk

[darklink_shadow]

John bites his lip and frowns, and then smiles and nods. Yes. Jah-Juntar ae Qamek va Gah-Jahtar.

[esorscher]

Bruce sits quietly, admiring the tattoos. He wants one. He eats of the food when it is offered and participates in the ritual of bowl passing.

[Yas392]

She stares starstruck at the massive hut comprise of bones and cloth. She compares it with her tusken necklace and pouts. As the orc passes her the bowl, she takes some from it for her daily nutrition and pass over while trying to list down all the orcish and translate them in her head. She could not get the words first time around until they keep repeating it when John and the orcs tries to communicate with each other.

Juhtir - female equivalent of outsider or non-orc
Ae - This is
Qamek - Leader
Va - Greater
e - you
Juhtar - male equivalent of outsider or non-orc
Rik - Female Orc
Ruk - Male Orc
Par-si - Broken English of Party
Gah - Collective/Party

[blacklight101]

Paying close attention to the conversation, trying to pick up what he could of the language and customs, Ulric takes and passes the bowl in turn.

[tortor]

The orcish elder speaks in a slow and plodding voice as Ba-Ruk pantomimes as best he can to keep up.
Ko-Ruk hols Juhtar throk va-dok. Hols Juhtar throk cah-nog va Gah-Ruk. Gah-Ruk throk tjani va Gah-Juhtar.E Gah-Juhtar throk tjani? E throk Juhtar?


Pointing at the warrior, then at the party, Ba-ruk pokes his head, then strangles himself and motions in a wide circle. Then he points back at the party, and then his head again. This time he punches his hand and motions to the room. Then he seems to indicate the three seated orcs and points to the bowl of fruits the party had eaten and points to the party an exaggerated smile on his face. Then he motions towards himself. Points at the bowl, then at the party. Then spreads his hands slowly outward from a prayer like position.

[Yas392]

COMPETITION.

May turns to the party, translating the context. Her eyes dances with delight and she claps her hands as she senses that the orc wants some sort of fight to see who is the better hunter or warrior, maybe to the death.

[darklink_shadow]

John blinks, and licks his lips. Ko-Ruk hols? Jah-Juhtar hols no. Jah-Juhtar throk tjani. John gave May a meaningful look, and asked her carefully. May, you seem to bristle with eagerness for the orcish people to rain war and death upon our small fortress village. What we have seen here is enough to be certain they will defeat us. No competition, just a slaughter. Our people are few, and if there are settlements like this one, even just a few, we will be hopeless outnumbered. Our friends at the village will prefer we return with friends, no war.

John turned back to the elder. May-Juhtir hols Ko-Ruk throk cah-nog. Jah-Juhtar no throk cah-nog. Jah-Juhtar hols tjani ae yes. Jah-Juhtar hols cah-nog ae no.

Reaching into his pack, John pulled out a waterskin, lighter than if full of water, but clearly almost full. He removed the clasp, and gently poured a small amount of brown powder onto his hand. Small. Yes. John smiled big. Big. No. John poured even more onto his hand and made of face of pain, and sickness.

Gently coaxing most of the powder into the bag, John ate a small amount of powder. Small. Good. John moved to the diplomatic orc, and gestured for him to hold out his hand. If he does, John pours a small amount of the powder into his hand. John will then do this with the warrior and the elder. Jah-Juhtar hols Gah-Juhtar throk tjani. Tjani ae good.

[Yas392]

May seems to get the wrong idea that the warrior orc is the one who is issuing the terms. Recalling that the orc relaying the elder's message, she looks at John and lowers her head in embarassment.

SORRY.

[tortor]

The elder smiles at Johns words and mutters something which sounds chastising to the warrior orc before holding his hand out in turn. The warrior orc blatantly refuses, and replies in his own tongue to the elder far to quickly for any of you to comprehend the words. Ba-Ruk chastises the warrior a second time before turning to the party, having recieved the strange powder and tasted it and traces two fingers from the top left of his face to the bottom right, the elder then repeats this motion. Ko-Ruk does a sort of jerked half cocked version of it and the elder stands, and pads back toward the massive monolith beneath which you are all seated. The warrior stands, gathers his furs and his spear and storms off towards a particularly large hut, Ba-Ruk stands and smiles at the group, gesturing out towards the way they came and begins walking.

[darklink_shadow]

John beamed at the diplomat. Turn turned and offered a hand to Ulric to help him up. I think, I may have just negotiated a peace between these new orcish people, and the fair people of our quaint little village. What an exciting day it has been.

He smiled at Bruce, Taleron, and May, and then sighed contently, before stowing his brown powder. And all it took was a little bit of cinnamon, and few dozen barely understood words. Gave the assembled group one last nod and followed the Orc.

[blacklight101]

Ulric accepts the offered hand hand and stands. "Whatever you haff said seems to haff worked. You haff the gift of the tongue, skraeling." As he says this he claps John on the back in congratulations of a deal well done. This trip should be interesting, indeed, Ulric never thought he would be witness to what he had just seen. If it keeps their new home safer, though, it would be entirely worth it.

[esorscher]

Bruce, not quite comprehending what is happening around him, finds himself in a familiar position. He follows the rest of the party silently.

[tortor]

As you move toward the entrance the village, seemingly put at ease by the leaders conversation with you has come out to view the spectacle of these outsiders, as you walk to the entrance you see dozens, maybe even a hundred (Counting above 45 requires a DC17 Wisdom Check) around a third of which appear to be warriors, the rest of mostly indiscernable castes. It seems that the warrior Ko-Ruks distrust of your party is something shared by most of the warriors as you see several of them hold back curious children or glare spitefully as the party walks past. When you reach the entrance to the cave system Ba-Ruk turns to the party and smiles, pointing to the cinnamon Tjani va Gah-Ruk. Gah-Ruk rraf Tjani va Gah-Juhtar. Yes? He smiles expectantly.

[darklink_shadow]

John locked his lips and repeated the orc's words in his head. Rrrraf?

John pushed his lips to one side and brought his eyebrows together, before slowly ahrugging. Jah-Juhtar throk tjani. Yes. Jah-Juhtar hols... Jah-Juhtar... John frowns.

Turning to his companions, John takes in a deep breath before nodding. Ulric, I am going to stay here and try to learn the language. Tell the mayor the beast was slain by the natives. Tell him that they like cinnamon a great deal, and that we might be able to trade it for other resources. Also, could you do me a favor and find a woman named April Chair and tell her John sent you? She is a animal doctor who is looking after my dog. I've already paid her, but she probably won't take kindly to me just leaving my dog with her forever. I'd appreciate if you looked after him. He's well trained. He understands and obeys most typical commands. But you'll have to tell him a short phrase before he will trust you.

John leaned into and whispered a meaningless phrase in druidic. Only four syllables long "Va-sha-ro-Dog."

Turning back to the orc, John said, Gah-Juhtar go home. Jah-Juhtar no go home. Jah-Juhtar hols tjani ae good. Jah-Juhtar must stay, and learn to speak.

John pantomimed walking, not walking, his own head, and then talking.

[blacklight101]

"Yes, yes, I shall get your dog and tell de Mayor what has happened here, have no worries of that,", Ulric says after John had gotten his attention. He offers his hand to John, Ve vill be back for you soon, skraeling, just try to keep out of trouble until then," Ulric says with a grin.

He follows the rest of the group when they leave to the mouth of the cave, making sure his gear- and anyone else's gear- is tied down securely on Pyotir's saddle. Turning to the others he says, If any of you don't want to be burdened by a pack, lash it to Pyotir's saddle. You do not mind, Pyotir, yes?" Pyotir brays and seems to shake his head in assent, he even meanders a little closer to make it easier on them.

[esorscher]

"I stay too." Bruce says. Dog barks in agreement.

[tortor]

~John and Bruces timeskip for the level ups~
It takes the orc a few moments after the others have left, but finally he understands and takes John and Bruce under his wing, showing them to a hut where Ba-Ruk lives with the two orcs you saw in the passages earlier, the female he introduces as his wife, and the child you soon discover is his son. The Orcish society proves interesting to john who quickly catches hold of the language, bruce however picks up the language even faster. The two of you find that the tribe seems to be very firmly split by caste, but that children are exempt from any caste. The tribe is led by what John deduces is called the Qamek, which consists of one member from each of three castes.

The first and most obvious caste is the warriors, known as ah-taam, each has distinct face paint at almost all times, and they never go about unarmed, their primary purpose is unrefined killing. The warriors "spar" with live weapons daily, and injury or even death in these practices is not unheard of. When they aren't sparring the warriors hunt the massive cave dwelling beasts which the tribe calls Kul-shodar.

The next most obvious caste are the crafters or, Seh-heron, they take raw products, the hide and bones of Kul-shodar, as well as stone and the scant lumber harvested on the mountain, and create the homes, cookware, tools, and weapons of the Gah-Ruk. The Seh-heron are incredibly industrious and conservative. They work tirelessly and Ba-Ruk demonstrates that they are incredibly skilled at what they do.

The Elder seems to belong to some sort of religious caste, responsible for guiding the other castes and blessing the warriors before combat. Neither of you learns the name of this caste but it seems they do wield a form of magic but it's highly ritualized and seem to involve very macabre . The few instances that are allowed to observe of this ritualistic magic leave him both jarred and oddly humming with an anxious energy.

The final caste seems to be a sort of peasantry or haulers. When the warriors kill Kul-shodar, they will merely leave it's corpse where it lies for a Da-jal to haul the corpse back to a stockpile and break it down into useable materials for the Seh-Heren to craft. The Da-Jal seem to be the inepts of society, being neither very skilled, or powerful or fast. They lack a Qamek to represent them.

After a few weeks Ba-Ruk explains to John and Bruce that the Tribe would be more at ease with his presence if he chose a caste, and that he is currently being viewed as a Da-Jal who doesn't work, which is below useless in the tribes mind.

[esorscher]

Bruce eagerly joins the Ah-Taam caste, and enjoys "sparring" with his whole heart. In the evenings, his skin cut with fresh wounds and his jagged teeth revealed by his massive smile, as he revels among his fellow warriors, it is clear that he is more comfortable here than anywhere else in this land so far. Every aspect of their life is familiar to him, especially the combat. He is eager to participate in a Kul-shodar hunt. Soon his body is covered in fresh scars from sparring, but he has dealt out as much as he has taken, if not more.

[tortor]

Bruce and May find the Ah-Taam mildly unwelcoming at first, and, though May can't quite determine the complexities of the language, Bruce understands that the tribe is of the belief that only a man could ever be a professional warrior, in the sparring matches May is challenged more often than any other of the caste and finds the task to be exhausting, often enduring 8 or 9 sparring partners a day. (DC - 18 Fortitude save to keep yourself from being fatigued)

Bruce on the other hand finds that the Orcs are mostly just distrustful of him, continuing to call him Brew-Juhtar behind his back and on occasion to his face. In one particularly hectic sparring match Bruce ends up accidentally killing a much younger Orc and the warriors distrust seems inflamed as many of them outright shun him, refusing to speak to him at all, or when honor or decorum necessitates conversing, calling him Gah-Juhtar, and dishonoring him by revoking his name.

John asking to join the Da-Jal confuses Ba-Ruk who asks you why you would choose what in this society, is the life of a peasant. He shows you their daily routines of stripping carcasses, and moving raw materials about and tries to encourage you to join the craftsmen, which he is certain you could contribute to, but assures you that, if you chose the Da-Jal he would think no less of you. When you first bring up the idea of joining the religious group Ba-Ruk dismisses the idea out of hand, but you can tell from his body language that the exchange of ideas interests him. You press him and after several talks with Qamek Dal-Ruk (who you notice is always addressed by his full title unlike the other 2 Qameks) you are allowed to participate in some of the simpler rites. It is not long before you realize the Qamek Dal-Ruk and yourself share a common language. Druidic. Though his is accented and harder to understand, it is much easier than speaking Native Orcish for you. The religious order, which you discover is called Sho-Shog consists of only about 12 Orcs, all fairly skilled, albeit highly ritualized casters. Qamek Dal-Ruk is the only true druid in the group, the others are some other type of casters, and though they are all skilled, none rival the raw power of Qamek Dal-Ruk who demonstrates spells and abilities you had only dreamt of. He has two massive Ravens as his Animal companions and seems to genuinely adore both of them, as you find him most often engaging in what sounds like lively debate with them whenever he's alone.

[Yas392]

She chose to stay and joined the Al-Taam caste with Bruce. She wanted to observe and learn the orc's fighting style. The way they weave through the blows and defeated the Kul-Shodar easily came off much of a shock and awe to her. In the aftermath, she decided to refine her basic savagery by sparring with the orcs. They came at her much harder than her companion who was more consistent with his brawls. She caught the repulsive looks sent at her. Are they looking down at her? But driven with zeal, she wanted nothing more than to see this determination through. Every time, she heard that there is a Kul-Shodar hunt, she always never miss the hunt. At the end of each day, she was left in a wearier state than her orchish companion. Sometimes, superfluous scratches decorated her form. Sometimes, moderate wounds of gashes and minor bumps left their marks. Currently, there is a minor bump on her forehead that is still healing from the concussion inflicted two days ago. During these three weeks with the orc, she could not be more happier even if she is fatigued.

Fort save - [roll0]

[esorscher]

Bruce is too ignorant to recognize when he is being insulted, but he does feel bad about killing the younger orc. He is, if anything, surprised at the response from the other orcs; wasn't such a thing common among the warrior caste? Perhaps the younger orc was more liked. Bruce continues to challenge anyone who will answer to spar.

[darklink_shadow]

John spends the as much time with Qamek Dal-Ruk as he can. He is eager to learn much of what the orc has to offer. The Orcish Tongue for one, but also the ways of druidic arts. John yearns for his canine companion when spending much time with the pair of avians, but he keeps that to himself. Most importantly, he learns the customs and culture of his new friends. He desires nothing less than to learn, grow and inspire.

Making friends now would be the first step to making a formal trade union. But John's education is not one way. He is eager to teach of his people's ways, and to advise new ideas. He hasn't put much stock in the idea of teaching the orc's to farm, but he knows of tricks and traps for catching game. And it surprised him greatly to discover nobody had thought to try to fish; a skill he was quick to teach his friend Ba-Ruk.

[tortor]

While Ba-Ruk thinks phis-shen (that's the closest you could get him before giving up and calling it a day) is an amusing distraction, the rest of the society, specifically the Ah-Taam are much more close minded and it quickly becomes a way to occupy children who take to phis-shen in the mostly empty under ground lakes which exist beneath the mountain. As for trapping, when you explain the concept of trapping to Ba-Ruk he quickly warns you not to mention it before an Ah-Taam as snares and traps are considered dishonorable both to the Ah-Taam and the Kul-Shudar.

Qamek Dal-Ruk speaks openly with you that his people have no great like of outsiders, that the snakemen to the east/southeast of them have harassed and pillaged any settlement they could find for generations, and so the Orcs became a roving tribe for a time before settling in this subterranean village. He says that, though none of the tribe knows of a time before this cave like lifestyle, the stories of living beneath an open sky are a constant reminder of what they lost to the snakemen. The Ah-Taam wear facepaint as a mark of shame for having failed in their duty to defend the Gah-Ruk, and Qamek Ko-Ruk frequently pleads for a chance to avenge his forefathers and soak his Ah-Taam in the blood of the snakemen. He tells you that Ko-Ruk believes that this new settlement will be just as the snakemen are, greedy and savage and full of hate.

[darklink_shadow]

John is dismayed at the close-mindedness of the orcs, but he believes in earnest that they will come around. Fishing may be a good task for children, he decided, however. It is mildly enjoyable and it provides meat to eat.

Trapping is by far the simplest way to hunt, but John relents. Honor is a notion that cannot be toyed with.

But by far the most troubling, is the hate and fear his people have hanging over them. It is unfortunate but not surprising. John points out to the esteemed leader that a friend driven away by fear and steel will return an enemy. He wants peace between the two people and insist that this fear must be stopped as soon as it can. But deep in his mind, he fears that the differences between these two people might lead to a bumpy start, and a bumpy start between these two people might lead to war.

John expresses his hatred of pillaging marauders, and his dislike of snakes. He expresses a desire to make a druidic circle here, in this new land, to act as a peaceful entity that unites their people.

[blacklight101]

On his way back to the town, Ulric was surprised all the others had stayed behind. Someone, he supposes, must carry the news back to their new home, after all. He was sure it would be a pleasant enough trip, if a bit too quiet without the group he was quick becoming accustomed to traveling with.

The trek back was wet. Very wet. Between the streams coming off the mountain and the downpours he never dried out. Ulric was almost entirely certain the only time it stopped raining was for a handful of minutes the first night as he tried to light a small fire. Thoughts of the events that had happened ran through his mind along with the obligations he has when he gets back.

First things first, he needed to find the mayor and tell him about the beast and the Orc tribe in the mountains, then to the healer to get John's dog. Thawing out from the trip and having a good meal could wait until after all that, though, lest he forget some of the minor details in the interim. Even if it was that mushroom stew again, hot food would be fantastic when he got back. His thoughts before he left were of his companions, hoping they would find themselves well when he returned.

[tortor]

Ulric Returns
To town late in the evening after having travelled a day and most of the night, finding the place much the same as he left it, the wooden ramparts still standing, the settlement was tucked in for the night save a nightwatchman who eagerly invited Ulric into the small guard shack beside the unwalled portion of the settlement which would one day be a gate. In the relative comfort of the guard shack the man explains that Morgan is asleep for the night, and that Ulric should rest here for the night and deliver his news in the morning.

When the sun comes, Morgan is at the shack early and upon seeing Ulric a look of pain and loss slips over his face Are you... the only survivor?! he half whispers

[blacklight101]

"I haff left them all in de mountains, long may de memory of what they did there live on," Ulric pauses for a moment and smiles. "De beast was killed by a tribe of Orcs living in de mountains, that is what was killing the others. De rest haff stayed to get rights of trade and peace with the tribe, all went well. They seem to find cinnamon fascinating. I can say that without the skraeling- eh- John, that would not have gone so well, his gift of the tongue may give us allies in time."

Doing his best to relate all the rest that happened, he filled in several gaps he had left earlier. Ulric spoke of the beast, the trek there, the tribe and their numbers. He will stay to answer any other questions and will then go to get John's dog from the healer, doing his level best to remember that nonsensical phrase.

[tortor]

After several minutes of explaining and questioning and interviewing, Morgan nods solemnly and asks if the Orcs have offered anything for trade, or perhaps maps of the area, he asks if they seem like they might be a threat at all and whether the town should worry about them. After relaxing his worries you return to the dull drum day to day life... the town struggles on, you haven't seen that dwarven party return and everyone worries about them for awhile, but as the weeks stretch on into early December, you realize that if your friends are going to return they will need to do so before the snows come and bury the mountain pass, you also admit to yourself, that, not having heard from them in 6 weeks has you more than a little worried..

[tortor]

Taleron
Taleron quickly learns that the Seh-Heron are incredibly industrious among the Orcs, he makes a few acquantances among the Orcs and quickly learns that though they are mostly self sufficient, the entire culture seems to lack the science of metallurgy. After awhile one of his acquaintances gives him a gift, a set of Orcish Artisans tools (+1 instead of +2) and after extensive work with the orcs he understands how to create their basic crafts gaining 1 rank in either Craft - Bone Carving or Leather Working

Bruce
Bruce gains very few friends in the Ah-Taam, though, to him it appears just normal, he has never known what acceptance felt or looked like, and so he continues to blunder his way through the daily sparring matches, and when the time comes and he is Finally given a chance to bring down a Kul-Shodar, he suffers heavy wounds and spends a week slowly recovering but he brings it down. After he finally heals he finds himself slightly heartier, as though his brush with death had made him more alive (+1 Max HP)

Leone
The Factorum has had several successful foraging sessions near town, growing closer to the elves and the strangely elvish Orc

John
Cultivating his relationship with the Qamek Dal-Ruk and learning from the Sho-Shog John learns alot about the Orcs and their ways Dal-Ruk tells of their histories and of their struggles, John gains +1 to any knowledge check he makes involving the Orcish tribe and Dal-Ruk asks him to Represent the Orcs and open a trade agreement between their people after John leaves, requesting - Cinnamon, Metal Crafts, and Metal Weapons, in exchange for Foods, Leather Goods and Stone Crafts.

May
May slowly and begrudgingly earns the respect of the Ah-Taam warriors, proving that she can hold herself among them as something almost akin to an equal. She is never offered a chance to hunt the Kul-Shodar, but her constant grueling sparring matches give her a keen sense for the Orcish fighting style, giving her +1 to EITHER her AC or Her Attack rolls while fighting an Ah-Taam warrior.

Ulric
The town is struggling, there is a shortage of meats, and as winter closes in they are desperately low on rations and wood. Snow is making it difficult to find anything to forage and the local wildlife is far to dangerous to hunt safely. Hunting parties tend to return either empty handed, or injured AND empty handed. The population is slowly dwindling, one morning Ulric awakes to find that the soup woman (Everyone just called her Granny) had passed in the night.

[blacklight101]

Waking one morning expecting to smell the cooking pot happily steaming away, when he woke and it wasn't, Ulric was a bit shocked to hear that Granny had died in the night. The situation was getting slightly more desperate by the day the colder it got. He needed to do something. To help ease the burden on the town, he gives up 12 days worth of his rations, leaving himself enough for no more than a day or two. It might not be much, but he could afford to give them some.

Since the dwarves had been quite industrious and efficient gathering wood- little that there was- he volunteered himself to help with the hunts since the parties had been coming back injured. Desperate times requiring desperate measures cause a few thoughts to spring into his head and be quickly forced right out again. If it comes down to it, he may have to do something drastic, but the option he had wasn't exactly a pleasant one. Until then, he would busy himself hunting and gathering as much as he possibly could to alleviate what pressure on the town that he could.


After a day of mourning and hard work, Ulric thinks of the others at the village, they know nothing of what happened here. The snow that is falling around him is light, but he can see that the mountains had it a few days before. He resolves later that day to inform the mayor of his plan and bring back one or two of the others since their knowledge could be so helpful here. Maybe John could even arrange for some food and supplies to be brought with them, sign of good faith in trade that it would be.

He finishes his tasks the next morning, gives a few quick farewells, gathers Pyotir and a few of his belongings and sets off to the Orc village. They need help and the situation was getting desperate. He does his level best to make it a quick trip there and back so the pass back might just not be snowed over.

[Yas392]

During the weeks, she was wondering why she was prevented from joining in their hunts. Although she was sulking inside because she even she had proven herself to the native orcs, she understood after several week that it is more of a gender issue. To gain a chance to even participate in the hunt, the huntress needs to be worthier and outstanding in her brawls. But she showed neither qualities as she was hard pressed in the daily spars with the Al-Taam. Orc, regardless of gender do have a warrior spirit within them. Both have the capability for combat although females fought less. Through he observations, males do the hunting more than their female counterpart who has other roles in the tribe. May knew this by observing John and Taleron activities. When it is time for them to depart back to the village to honor their trade agreements, she nods gratefully to the Al-Taam and the orcs before facing her party, awaiting their decisions.

[darklink_shadow]

John spent much time learning the ways and customs of the orcs. They were steadfast in their beliefs, unbending despite the weight he may press his own ideas, but at times he took heart to see the small changes. Men did not fish, but children found it enjoyable. Maybe the next generation would continue to fish for enjoyment. Maybe after that they would fish for food.

Farming was beyond them, and living outside was unthinkable. And so, John swayed them little, and learned much. He wondered seldomly about the village, but he had left them a long time ago, just a single day after his initial arrival. But he missed his dog fiercely. He wondered how well orc's could understand domestication. And he wondered what manner of beasts lurked in this land. His people would yet farm and husband animals. They needed to carve out a life here. But John had more than just a hunch that the village would need the orc, and a strong feeling that the orc's would soon, somehow need the villagers. He had yet not had the chance to discover how true that would be in the coming chaos.

[tortor]

Ulric trudges off along the Mountain pass, and after several hours of travel has found himself, utterly lost in the barren mountain range, the cold bites at him through his furs as he stumbles about trying desperately to find a familiar landmark. (I rolled survival for you.. it was bad.) The snow whips into his eyes blindingly as the winds howl loudly. Ulric was reminded of home, of the great snows of his homelands. Before long the sun began to set, and Ulric was no closer to finding his way, would he press on in the night, and hope to find his way in the dark, or would he search for a safe place to spend the night. Either way he knows, if he doesn't find fire the cold is going to sap his body of energy and fatigue him.

At the Orc village, the Dal-Ruk urges the party to return to their people, and bring peace and trade between the villages

[esorscher]

Bruce nods, flicking a bit of dead skin off his wrist, and thanks his fellow warriors for all they have offered him, for their good bouts, and for their hospitality. He stands at the outskirts of the camp, ready to leave. Dog bounds up happily next to him.

[blacklight101]

Ulric was as lost as he could remember being in quite some time. He needed shelter against the cold. He needed to press onward as well. Tough decisions, but if he couldnt find a place to take shelter, he would continue on. Stopping without fire or a shelter wouldn't be good, whether or not the winters in his homeland could get far harsher than this.



search [roll0]

If it doesnt work, ill take the fatigue and keep trying to find the village. Keep moving, keep warm. Pyotir and I can always find some rocks to shelter against if we get too tired. Hopefully I don t have to go all Han Solo on my faithful companion. Im sure he smells worse on the inside.

[darklink_shadow]

The morning before they left, John kept in mind the harshness of the weather, and prepared himself for the journey. He didn't know if it would come to magic to keep them safe, but he was prepared for such a case.

Before the departure date, John had informed the Orcish leaders that proposing a trade agreement required gifts to sample so that they could know the value of the goods. John informed them that when he returned, he would bare gifts in return.

The orc's offered food, and crafted bone and leather. John would leave with samples at least, if not a bounty. Having no idea the hurt of his people, John would wish he had asked for more food, more than likely.