Midnight - Against the Shadow [IC]

[Henry the 57th]

Dark grey waters lap at a sullen, rocky coastline. The sun, long concealed by the roiling tide of pitch-black storm clouds high overhead, now bestows but the faintest rays of light as it painstakingly sinks beyond the horizon. A lone trading barge, small and practical in the uniquely gnomish way, winds its slow way along the shore towards the distant city of Fallport, bringing with it the unending cargoes of food and steel required to keep the Shadow's war machine running. It is demeaning, thankless labor, but it is all that is left to the river fey. The spirits of gnomish people were broken long ago, and now they meekly accept their lot in life. Or so they would have the invaders believe.

The site was prearranged, a rocky bluff far from any city or town and their endless patrols, but just within sight of the trampled dirt path that passes for a main road heading west from Fallport. When the vigilant gnomes have carefully scanned sea and shore alike for any signs of life, they pass on the word. From below decks, out from cramped smuggling compartments expertly concealed below, come four travelers stiff from long days of forced confined. Two are human, and two bear the slim, angular features and pointed ears attesting to their fey heritage. Moving with practiced ease, a gangplank is swiftly set up between the anchored ship and the protruding bluff. Sturdy and well-used, it has no trouble bearing the weight of any who move nimbly across - nor even the weight of one man's cart.

Almost as soon as the four have made it to shore, the hardy plank is withdrawn back to the barge. The gnomish people play a vital roll in the resistance, and yet by necessity it is among the most secret. Izrador's servants must never suspect, even for a moment, that the river fey are anything but complaint collaborators in their hateful wars. They will proceed to Fallport and deliver what meager supplies there are to offer, just as they were chartered to do in Baden's Bluff. They will sail by this point perhaps every second week for two arcs - the most extraction that acn possibly be offered. After that, these four will simply be assumed to have suffered the same fate as so many others who dared to defy the dark god.

As they watch their only means of retreat sail silently into the distance, the four cannot help but remember their orders. A legate, Norram, an older Erenlander with black hair tinged with grey, left Fallport in a great hurry and with every effort at secrecy some few days ago, heading east in the company of six orcs and a black-plated warrior bearing a heavy greatsword. The cloaked head of their cell had not disclosed how they came by the information, but they were given to understand that the dark priest and his entourage were heading northeast towards the Highborn Mountains, in hopes of collecting some new intelligence for the war against the elves. What, precisely, that is was never made clear. Just that he must not return alive with it.

The last of the sun's rays are dying when the four reach the road, bringing them their first true choice on this mission. Do they stop and make camp for the night, potentially giving their quarry more time to slip away? Or do they dare the open road at night, and risk whatever might crawl out from its hole in these desolate northern plains?

[ErebusVonMori]

Vorthos would slowly drag his cart onto the read, the merchant having insisted on bringing all his worldly possessions with him, not entirely without reason, he'd been using it as a cover for years now and he saw no reason not to keep it going during this mission, afterall they needed some excuse for being on the roads.

And at the end of the day the cart was still a cart. "I say we take the road, two of us can pull the cart whilst the others try to get some rest, we might have to ditch a barrel or two to get you to fit but it will let us stay on the move."

[jdizzlean]

Unfolding himself from what has been unluckily known as "home" for the past few days, Antinil pauses at the hatchway to scan the area around the barge before stepping out onto shore. A quick nod, and a few words of gratitude to their chaperones, and then it is naught but a tug to get the cart moving and he dashes across the road into cover. Let the others dilly about and discuss things in the open, but always Antinil seeks cover first. Shortly the discussion turns to pressing onward, or finding camp for the night, both of which seem like good options. His compatriot with the cart thinks that we should press onward, but suggests climbing back into a cramped spot. Cramped hiding spots are ok, but should danger strike, they spell certain death.

I for one would welcome a proper rest. If the Company wishes to press on, I suggest not cowering behind a barrel, but scouts forward to lead the way, or follow along. What say you?

[Alchemyst]

While Seph was no stranger to long times away from his home town in Baden's Bluff, never did he ever entertain the idea of boat travel and quickly learned that the sea did not favor his health; full glad was he to find his feet once again standing on solid earth once more. Never the less, he was no stranger to working with the fey, he had even made passing friends whilst working to clear out some of the dead wood in the Green March and its surrounding regions. "Hiding would be ill-advised, should a Legate wish to see our wares, or were we to encounter some of the Fell. Both would condemn us to death, one much quicker than the other. That said, I would suggest a disguise of sorts. Mayhaps a cloak or similar to conceal your two less... human features.
"Failing that, perchance you might be able to play the part as an enslaved? And we your 'masters.'" He concluded with heavily emphasized series of air quotes upon utterance of the last word.

[Stegyre]

Argent stretches his limbs for the first time in days. There's really no advantage to be smaller if it just means they cram you into a smaller hole for hiding, he thinks. Pulling a small mirror from his pouch, he checks his disguise: a young Erenlander, maybe 12 years of age. If things go well, it may never need to pass muster, but he hasn't lived this long planning on things going well.

"We could do something by way of a disguise," he points out, "but your not gonna fool anybody, long as you're carryin' that bow and knives." He shrugs. Subtle, you gotta be subtle if you wanna escape notice. Speaking of which . . . he gives a long, low whistle, scanning the bluff. "Here, Doggie, Doggie, Doggie. Here, boy!" until the unkempt shaggy head of a . . . "riding-size dog" pokes up from the bushes, and Doggie pads over to nuzzle his side. "Followed us just fine from the bank, didn't you? Good boy!"

Argent takes a minute to look over his companions and their stock. Wagon --not gonna be able to hide or disguise THAT. Two Erenlander plus one "me," that's something I can work with. The elf -- deadly, dangerous, and essential -- but hard to explain in a pinch. Hmmm.

"I say we press forward and stay together, for the night. We wanna catch th' Legate before he gets where he's going, and possibly gets even better protection than he has now.

"I don't think I could explain all four of us together on the road during the day, but at night, I think it's not orc patrols we'll need to worry about, so best stay close together and at th' ready. Come dawn, we can change our plan." He looks at the others expectantly, painfully aware of how awkward this would be if someone saw them now, a "boy" speaking to his elders like an equal.

[ErebusVonMori]

"I can explain us. It's why I brought the cart." Vorthos says with a smile, "I am a travelling merchant, you are my son, the dog is naturally just a dog, the other two are my bodyguards, unless the elf doesn't think he can hide his nature in which case we empty a barrel in the daytime and hide him in there. This should allow us to keep a steady pace day and night by changing shifts on who's pulling the cart and who's sleeping on it."

[Henry the 57th]

Reaching a consensus, the four lonely travelers set out into the night together just as the very last spark of the sun's light vanishes over the horizon. The comforting shine of the moon and stars are nowhere to be seen this night, buried beneath the black shroud roiling in from the north.The dark eastern road proves to be still as they make their wary way along it, the two humans taking shifts pulling the cart, the halfling flitting about it, and the elf stalking silently ahead. No torches for them, long experience telling them that to set a light on the move would only be to blind their eyes even more in the gloom and give away their position besides. They press on into the dark, cautious but determined.

Minutes turn to hours as the four march ever onwards, the low groan of the cart's wheels and the waves lapping at the rocky shoreline their only companions. A cold and bitter wind sweeps down over them and thunder rumbles above, but no rains come. Still the heavenly lights refuse to show themselves. They can see precious little save the hardy northern grasses and shrubs clinging to their meager life about the path, hear little beyond the occasional frantic wingbeat or the scurrying of lowly beasts as they draw near. They meet no travelers for all their time on the lonely road, and few would wonder at that.

It isn't until the four of them have been wandering the path for a number of hours, blackness and chill wrapping tight about them all the way, that they encounter anything of note. Thunder booms out overhead as it has countless times since they began, and yet this time as it fades away something halfway between a creak and groan can be heard ahead, before suddenly coming to a halt as though attempting to mask itself. Seconds later, for the first time that night, lightning flashes far to the distant east, providing the briefest flicker of illumination to the lonely winding road.

Listen checks, if you please.

Make a Spot check as well.

[jdizzlean]

Listen: [roll0]

Spot: [roll1]


also, since several hours have elapsed, to the extent possible, i'll forage as we go

[roll2]

[ErebusVonMori]

Listen: [roll0]

If this works it's a miracle

[Stegyre]

Argent
Listening [roll0]

Been so long, I had to look up the code for rolling dice again.:smallsigh:

[Henry the 57th]

The flash of lightning is gone in a split second, and with it the road around the travelers plunges back into darkness once more. Still with no moon or stars to be seen overhead, and no torches lit, even the keenest eyes struggle to see much of the path ahead. While the thunder continues to rumble overhead, the slightest noise can now be made out on the road ahead. Those who strain their ears can perceive a creaking sound like old wood, mixed with a thumping as if something heavy was being dragged along the dirt road. The wind picks up around them, a cold and bitter breeze sweeping down from the north.

Foraging while travelling at a moderate pace isn't terribly easy, but you are an experienced huntsman. During the long, dark hours of travel you were able to slay a trio of rabbits by little more than sound, and find what you judge to be edible roots by smell. It's hardly a bounteous feast, but you estimate properly skinned and prepared your little group could eat what you found for two days, or three if you should ration grudgingly.

Your elven ears prove keen, for even above the rumbling of the thunder you are able to pick out the rustling in the grasses to the north. Some of it is obviously caused by the wind, but experience teaches that such a soft breeze could not make so much noise. As best you can tell, there seem to be at least two different points of rustling, one roughly parallel to your comrades' cart and one some short way behind it.

When the lightning flashes, you get enough light for a quick glance down the road. You briefly catch sight of what appears to be another cart not so far down the road, missing its left wheel. You don't get a good look at the lone figure that seems to be slowly pulling it towards you, but their head is slumped sideways at an odd angle. Then the instant of illumination passes, and the darkness swallows the incoming stranger.

Beyond the incessant storm clouds overhead, the chill breeze rustling the grass, and the creaking from up ahead, you can hear nothing more.

The rustling of the of the grass to the right of the cart seems... a little too insistent to your ears to be caused merely by the ill wind. Your gut says something else is disturbing the hardy plants, and from what you can guess it seems to be some short distance behind you.

[jdizzlean]

The rain and thunder has been a constant companion of Antinil's travel for as long as he can remember. Having spent many an arc outside on his ranges, he's learned to listen to the world between the raindrops. Because of this, he picks out a stalker in the weeds that is pacing the group, clearly not some hungry animal that is simply looking for its next meal. Then, in a flash of lightning, sees an odd sight ahead, a cart short a wheel is being pulled by some misshapen thing towards them. A flanking manuever meant to snag their attention while the creature in the field pounces? Antinil slows down to allow his companions to catch up. Quickly throwing the brace of rabbits into the cart, he addresses his party.

in a whisper just loud enough to be heard over the stormFriends, we're being stalked from the field to our side, and a misshapen creature, possibly an orc in hiding, is pulling a cart towards us from the front. I'll take care of the field, defend yourselves
from the danger ahead, should the need arise. With that, he lets the cart pass him to the front, all the while keeping the source of the disturbance in the field in view, and in rangee, as his head is constantly swiveling.

[ErebusVonMori]

Vorthos nods silently, not even sure if his companions can see in the darkness but not wanting to make noise at the moment as he puts the cart down, drawing his weapon and waiting.

[Stegyre]

Argent gives no sign of having heard anything, but his hands casually unwind his atharak from his belt, like a young boy playing with a piece of rope. He turns his head casually from side to side, scanning the fields, ready.

[Alchemyst]

Listen: [roll0]

Out of pure habit, Seph strays just a few steps beside the workhorse attached to the cart. In his idle time dances his farmers' rope, becomming knotted and unknotted through various ministrations and practiced twists and turns of its owner's hands. "Doubtful that it's of the Shadow's force in this weather. Mayhaps one of the Fell?" He lowered his voice down to above a whisper to try and not draw undue attention.

[Henry the 57th]

The group slows down around the worn hand-pulled cart as Vorthos sets it aside. The unremitting darkness enveloping the road continues to smother all efforts at sight beyond the faintest amidst the gloom. All are on high alert, ears pricked for the faintest rustling in the grass. While the thunder continues to reverberate overhead and the northern winds rustle through the greenery, for the moment none of them hear anything further from whatever had been making the noise in the grass before.

What they do hear is the continued creaking from further ahead on the road, mixed in with an unpleasantly regular thump of something rising and hitting the dirt road over and over and over again. As seconds go past with no further apparent activity from the grasslands to their north, the creaking grows louder and more insistent, coming their way and sounding more and more discordant the louder it gets, until finally it comes to a sudden halt some distance from them. There is a moment's pause as the dark presses in, a deep breath before the storm.

"Haaail travelers..." a croaking, almost toadlike voice says from somewhere not far beyond the edge of their visions. "Be you friend oooor foe?"

[jdizzlean]

Not wanting to betray his location, Antinil remains silent, still watchful for a possible threat to their side. He idly fingers the fletching on the arrow that is ready to fly on his bow as he too is wondering whether this newcomer is friend or foe.

[Stegyre]

"Father, who is there?" Argent calls out, figuring he shouldn't take the lead if he wants to keep his disguise as a youth -- and if this is a foe, playing a timid, scared youth may help to catch the enemy off guard.
I thought of rolling bluff or disguise rolls, as needed, but those should probably be done in secret by the GM.

[Alchemyst]

"Hail and well met, friend." Not one to turn down a friendly greeting, Seph returns the call in kind, even if they may be aligned with Izrador or otherwise. Better to err on the side of caution, afterall. "We do not come from The Shadow, but we also hold no quarrel with his Night Kings and their minions." Not yet, at least.

[ErebusVonMori]

"Friends wherever possible." He assures the traveller.

[Henry the 57th]

"Neither do I sssserve the Shadow..." the voice continues in its croaking way, distinctly unpleasant amidst the sound of roiling thunder and rustling grasses. "I merely dooooo... as I have always done. You are boooold to come this way by night," it says, as rustling continues to pick up both behind and to the right of the small group, seemingly no longer attempting to conceal itself as it creeps steadily closer. "In such few nummmmbers, with such a liiiiitle one..." there is a profoundly unnerving tone to that word. "You muuuust be desperate indeed..." Thunder claps behind it. "What briiiiings you this way?" There comes a brief creak, as if whatever is talking has dragged its broken cart forward a few paces. "Iiiiiiinto our domain?" There is a wretched-sounding rasp.