Now that Chenris is closer to the large body of orcs and is slightly past them, she feels that it is best to get as far from them as possible if she wants to survive. She takes a dash action in the direction of Hamnish.
Hamnish quickly looks at the scene in front of him. Although some of the orcs are busily pursuing the stampeding boros, the main group is still clustered near their camp. How can he draw them away? Once again, he attempts to draw the orcs away from the camp by attacking. Spurring his horse, Hamnish rides towards the orcs to within range. He looses arrows at orcs #1 and #4, then wheels around and heads back east, just far enough to stay out of the orcs powerful hands.
Attack with Longbow (Orc #1): to hit: 12, damage: 10 Bonus action (Hunter's Mark): Attack with Longbow (Orc #4): to hit: 21, damage: 10
Chenrisscampers through the long grass on her short little weasel legs, moving as fast as she can towards the pounding horse and its rider. As she runs, the thunder of the horse's hooves becomes terribly loud as Hamnishcloses to within a hundred feet to fire two more arrows at the clustered orcs. With a clang of their verdatch swords, the tightly grouped orcs block both arrows. "Come closer, and fight like a man!"Orc #8 roars, in Orcish. He grins at his comrades. "He'll have to, once his horse tires of scampering around."
Orc #5 bodily tears the arms off of the halfling who shouted and pointed. The halfling's terrible, agonized screams echo down the hillside. Orc #5 flings him down among his chained and huddled comrades, who are choking back sobs, trying to stay as quiet as they can.
"That's a waste," Orc #6says. "We've got two boros to eat tonight already, and that's one less slave to sell. You never think, do you? You idiot."
Orc #5 turns in a rage on #6. "You shut up," he snarls. "Or I'll tear worse off of your insolent face."
"You go ahead and try it!"Orc #6 sneers. The two bickering orcs have ceased to pay much attention either to their prisoners, or to the lone rider slinging arrows.
Several hundred yards north now, the distant rodeo of orcs #10, #11, and #12 trying to catch the boroscontinues...
"That'll do just wonderfully," the gnome woman says. "Let's go---those troops are thirsty!" The two gnome lads lean forward, straining on the yoke of the wagon. It lurches forward, its wheels rattling on the cobblestone streets. A few turns, and the cozy and pleasant streets of the Hearthhome give way to the muddy, cramped streets of the Weirhold, old brick buildings huddling close over the road, two and three stories of wooden tenements built on top of them. A few hucksters and beggars peek out from doorways and alleyways as the cart rattles by, but shy back out of sight as the gnome woman in the broad-brimmed hat shouts and hollers, "Make way, make way! Refreshment for the troops!"
Soon enough, the enormous city wall rises into site over the tops of the tenements. Seven feet thick and thirty feet high, the huge, imposing wall looms over the Leewall section of the city and the crammed carts, merchants, travelers, and soldiers pressing their way into and out of the city through the main gate. A single tower built into the wall reaches the height of sixty feet. Three imposing spiked portcullis make up the long gatehouse that guards the entrance into the city, and it bristles with hobgoblin guards, some of them holding large, ferocious looking dogs on leashes.
"Up, boys! Up for our special delivery!" Selphina's unabashed companion continues to call out. Throwing an arm around Selphina's shoulder, she beams and jostles her. "They'll like this batch, you be sure of it!" And she leans in theatrically to plant a big kiss on Selphina's cheek. But as she does so, she stops just short, and whispers into Selphina's ear: "If you have steel on you or anything of elves, we're dead. The dogs will smell it. But, deary, you know the rules, of course. Don't tell me what you've got or where. I'll give you one last kiss when it's time for you to run. Now stay calm, easy does it."
Selphina's only contraband is the page of a book, rolled up in her hidden inner vest pocket. She knows it's going to the elves, but it hasn't been there yet. She should be fine... and the wagon rattles towards the gate. A hobgoblin guard sees the party of gnomes and their wagon, and begins to raise the portcullis. The gnome woman smiles and waves at him.
Selphina takes a deep breath and pulls out her lyre. She gets into character (deception: 21) and starts to play and hum a song of calming and casual indifference, hoping to soothe the hobgoblins (performance: 18) into only slightly shirking their duties when it comes to their wagon.
Chenris sees that Hamnish is fairly close to her. She reverts back to her halfling form, takes a jump and calls to Hamnish to attract his attention. She then quickly takes the wild shape of a riding horse and starts moving toward Hamnish and past him to get as far from the orcs as she can. She whinneys as she passes to make sure he notices her and hopes he will follow.
"What?" Hamnish gasps as a movement in the nearby grass catches his attention. Was that a halfling jumping up and down? Hamnish glances towards the circled group of orcs. He can hear the taunts and jibes, but can see they are not moving towards him. Quickly, he turns back to the halfling and sees... a horse? The creature starts running in the opposite direction from the orcs, whinnying fiercely and looking at him as it rushes past him.
In a decision prompted by intuition and hope (one of the halflings escaped?!), Hamnish turns his horse around and follows the quickly retreating mare.
As both horses set into a dead gallop across the waving long grass, they quickly pull away from the hill on which the orcs are camped, the imposing vanguard of that terrible race's strength and brutality fading small into the distance, as if truly the horses' hooves had wings to carry them away from all threats and cares. They press hard to the east, far from the orcs and the direction that the boros stampeded in, even as the sun passes the noonday zenith and begins to sink into its course to the west. Hamnish's steed pours sweat--though long used to pitched battle speed and the endurance of many miles, Hamnish can tell the speed and frenzy of the battle have worn out his horse--the animal will need rest, water, and grazing before too long. And what about this strange mare? Was this the druidic magic of the halflings that he has heard such legend of?
He spares first a thought to the fallen Sardric... and then for the mentor he seeks, Eythorial, the Gift Giver of the Tree of Lights. His mission comes back to him, and if he allows his horse to slow, he sees that the longgrass around him now is overgrazed, speckled with spindly weed bushes, the grass shorter than the waving seas of it he so shortly left behind in his journey south towards Eisin. Those who hold Eythorial prisoner may not yet have landed at Baden's Bluff to start their own southward march to Eisin, but Hamnish can tell, courtesy of his mad dash after the magical mare, that the land here has been recently, though not too recently, grazed down by the long ranging herds of boro and sheep corralled to feed the orcish armies that march along the old King's Roads.
(OOC: You are out of combat initiative. You may talk to one another, decide on a plan, try to figure out where you are, or where you'd like to head next.)
The portcullis raises high like a set of jagged teeth framing a consuming maw. The gnomes pulling the wagon throw themselves into it without hesitation, and Selphina and her hat-wearing companion show themselves lively and laughing, whatever nerves either of them might have pushed into some small corner of their minds as they sell their confidence with aplomb to the guards. The hobgoblins virtually ignore them--raising the portcullis, lowering it with a clang behind the wagon, walking the huge dogs up on their leashes to sniff the wagon and its occupants--looking as bored with their routine as they could possibly be, with impatient glances towards the traffic lined up on either side of the portcullis.
Even Selphina's rapturous song, besides earning a snarl from one of the dogs, seems only to increase the hobgoblins' desire to move them along their way. Though it seems like an eternity before the second portcullis is raised to let them out of the city, it's barely a moment before they're walking free outside the thick stone walls, down through the heavy traffic of the enormous hard-packed road, the Road of Ruin as it is called now, that runs all the way to Eisin in the Westlands, a highway for the hobnailed boots of orcish armies in their thirst for blood and conquest.
Selphina's gnome companion sings along with her, waving to orcs, merchants, legates, and everyone they pass on the road. As the city traffic slows and the minutes seem to drag into hours, war camps speckle the roadside. Selphina just finishes her song as the gnome woman accompanies her climactic flourish with a stamp of her tall boot, and a muffled oath from one of the gnomes pulling the wagon filters up as the wagon grinds to a halt.
"Oh, lads, what is it now? Hit a rock did you? Come on, let's see to it!" The gnome woman leans over, plants a kiss on Selphina's cheek, and then stands up and jumps off the wagon.
Selphina remembers that was the signal to run. She looks around, and sees a wide ditch along the road, a series of rolling hills and woodlands descending south from the bluff. It shouldn't be too hard to slip away unnoticed, if she's quick and keeps to the valleys and trees.
(Describe your escape, and give me a Stealth roll!)
Looking back to make sure once again that the orcs were not following him and the wild horse, Hamnish slows his tiring steed to a walk. Feeling a bit foolish (what if the horse is just a horse?), he loudly says, "Of course, if you are just a horse, you wouldn't be staying with me, would you.?" As he talks, Hamnish is looking for a place to rest.
Now that Hamnish has slowed to a walk, Chenris turns back into her normal self. Chenris looks at Hamnish and says, "I wish I could have saved the other halflings as well. It doesn't sit well with me to leave them as prisoners of the Orcs. But maybe I can still do something even though I'm no longer there with them." She sighs heavily. Then, she says, " Good sir, thank you for your assistance against the Orcs so that I could get away. My name is Chenris. When you find a good place to rest, we can talk and see what needs to be done next."
Having turned in his saddle to view the accompanying horse, Hamnish was slightly startled to see a halfling instead. So the legends are true! Stopping his horse, Hamnish said, " I deeply regret the loss of your friends, Chenris. We are often overwhelmed by the power of Izrador and ofttimes must flee to survive. But that truth doesn't lessen the cost." "My name is Hamnish, a rider for House Redguard, on my way to Eisin in the south. Some circling vultures led me to you and your captors." "Climb aboard", he said, extending a hand to the halfling, "and we will find a place to rest." It wasn't too long before Hamnish found a copse of trees that suggested a small spring welling nearby. Most important, there was enough grass to allow his horse ample forage. After hobbling the horse to graze, and unwilling to light a fire, Hamnish shared his cold rations with the halfling. "I will take the first watch.", looking at the exhausted Chenris. "Sleep as long as you can. Later, we can talk of our next steps."
Hamnish continues to ride east, keeping the afternoon sun at his back until it sinks slowly near the horizon, before he begins to look for a place to rest. His horse is sheened with sweat, its nostrils wide as it continues to recover air after its perilous run and the continued travel of the day. As the valleys begin to dip downwards and the sword grass becomes more verdant, small groves of trees appear more frequently. Though at first Hamnish suspects a spring, the flow of the land and plant growth begins to suggest to him that they are approaching a river, or at least a large stream.
The two eat their cold dinner as the horse gratefully munches away at grass. The Dornish ranger and the secretive halfling have discovered something of a language barrier, but Hamnish knows enough Erenlander to make himself understood to Chenris, who, being a native of Central Erenland, is fluent.
As Hamnish takes his watch, the sun sinking slowly below the horizon. His mind turns over the plans he must now make. He came ashore and rode south, hoping to head for Eisin. He tracked the orcs approximately due north from the destroyed halfling camp, and after he and the mysteriously magical halfling escaped the orcs, they rode east for the rest of the afternoon. Which direction do they want to head now? And where are the orcs likely to take the remaining halflings?
Hamnish please roll Perception for your watch. Please also remove 2 rations from your inventory. If either of you would like to try and figure out where you are, or where the orcs might be likely to take the other halflings, please make a History check.
After Chenris awakes, she attempts to talk with Hamnish. She has no specific plans since the Orcs destroyed her way of life when they captured the halflings. She lost everything. Her ultimate goal is to see if she can help the other halflings escape, but that isn't something she can do on her own. She isn't quite sure if there is anyone who can help her, but she isn't likely to be too trustful at this point. She trusts Hamnish since he was trying to fight the Orcs that had captured her. She explains to Hamnish that she is happy to help him with any of his plans, but she would like to help her fellow halflings if there is any way she can. She doesn't want to leave them in the hands of the Orcs. Does he know of anyone who would be able to help her rescue the halflings? If Hamnish is okay with it, she'd like to stay with him while she figures out what she can do for the Halflings. Does he have any idea of where they might be?
The Dornish ranger and the bedraggled halfling speak in low tones, trying to figure out what they know and what they want to do next. Despite the proximity of the river, and knowing that the Sea of Pelluria lies somewhere to the north, Hamnish is unsure of where they are. Until five days ago, he had never set foot on the southern shore of the Pelluria, and the land is still strange and unfamiliar to him. He recalls from his condensed geography lessons from members of the Redgard Riders that the city of Baden's Bluff lies somewhere along the coast to the east, and beyond it the city of Erenhead, framing the mouth of the Eren river that drains from the Pelluria southwards to the great ocean. Eisin, the city he seeks to where House Redgard believes that Eythorial will be taken, lies south of Baden's Bluff, at the end of one of the crumbled great King's roads, now known as the Road of Ruin. But as to how far they are from any of the roads, or what river they are near now, he has no idea.
But Chenris knows where they are. Her nomadic tribe has long wandered the undulating rills and channels of the sea of swordgrass and panock tree oases west of the Eren river, lingering often in the great shade of distant Erethor, the forest of the elves. Her tribe calls them "the lands of the wandering people". She knows now that the green lowlands they have approached that dip towards the east is the valley of the River Orh, a small river that flows north into the Pelluria from the Trollskarl forest. Between where they are now, and the Trollskarl, the Road of Ruin crosses the river, but it is yet south of them. Baden's Bluff is some two hundred miles away along the coast, and countless Erenlander towns and villages... or what's left of them... line the Road of Ruin, and the Road of Salt and Tears, that lead from this area to that once-great city. Chenris also knows that people who are enslaved from the scattered villages that still try to eke out a living in this area are often marched to the salt mines of Aarl at the end of the Road of Salt and Tears, about fifty miles east of the River Orh. Perhaps captured halflings would be brought there as well... if they are not marched all the way to the farms at Erenhead, which horrible, whispered tales recalled to her tribe as the Shadow's favored place to enslave the poor little creatures to their brutal labor.
As Chenris slips into much-needed slumber, Hamnish sits watch, his steed placidly grazing as the sun sinks below the horizon and darkness covers the plains. As the sun's light fades, clusters of bright stars wink into view in the deep blue expanse of the heavens above. Hamnish is comforted to see familiar constellations and patterns of stars spangled across the sky, although they are in a different place in the sky than he remembers them being in the North, and there are some that he has not seen before. He himself knows little of the stars, nor of the changes in them through the progression of the arcs. The Arc of Hanud, in which they now are, marks the beginning of winter, and while some great Sarcosan sages might probably be able to tell you a thousand tales of the Sorshef depicted in the stars during that time as they ride with the departed souls traditionally honored in this Arc, the Dornish riders of House Redgard have made no great study of such things.
Hamnish's sharp eyes and ears follow the relatively peaceful sounds of the night. He is too far to hear the waves of the sea, or the lap of the river over its rocks, yet he imagines the ways that the waters will take him, and many others he does not know, perhaps even this very night, away to safety from Izrador's forces... while hobnailed orc boots that stomp through the muddy waters take others trembling in terror closer to them.
Selphina jumps off the wagon along with everyone else to see what happened. She stands towards the back of the group, as close to the ditch as possible. Once everyone's attention is focused on the wagon problem, she takes a deep breath and slips into the ditch (Stealth:17). Selphina quietly and quickly runs along the ditch towards the woodlands. She picks up a bit of mud to hide any bright colors on her clothing and make a nature camo to better hide in the shadows of the woods.
As they all assemble off the wagon onto the road, the other gnomes pay no attention to Selphina, seemingly completely focused on the wagon, the strong lads pulling it coming around to the wheels and poking their heads underneath. But she notices that the gnome woman in the broad-brimmed hat positions herself where she's between Selphina and the widest view from the road, not even drawing attention to her with a glance.
Selphina is able to slip into the ditch, seemingly without anyone noticing. Her expertise at disguise comes well in hand as she smears the mud tactfully over her clothing. It is several tense minutes of the sun beating down on her hair as she worms her way through the low places in the grasslands, the shout and tromp of troops on the hard-packed road fading into the distance, the laughter and raucous singing of the gnomes drifting faintly farther away as they push their wagon on again. Soon, Selphina can't hear the sounds of the road anymore, only the rush of the wind over the grass, and, as she finally makes it to the little crop of woods in the low dipped valley, the buzz of insects and the twitter of birds. For the moment, it seems, she is safe from prying eyes.
Now she can take stock of her supplies and make a plan for where she is going... she well knows that it is not a short journey to Erethor, the forest where the elves live and make their stronghold against the troops of Izrador. Nor is it easy in many places to cross the Burning Line. Selphina has the clothes on her back, and the supplies in her bag, she has some knowledge of the geography south of the Pelluria, from the many landmarks and directions stored in the many songs that she knows, handed down through gnome companies for generations in Erenland. What would she like to do next?
Roll a History check to see what Selphina knows of the area and routes she can take to wherever she would like to head. The Baden resistance in Baden's Bluff has hidden caches of items in many locations throughout Erenland, some in the cities, some in the wilderness. If you'd like to see if Selphina might know where to find one nearby, tell me what supplies you'd like to find, and then roll History to see if she knows of one, and then Investigation to see if she can find it. Remember to make the rolls on your character sheet so they're added to the game log!
As Chenris slowly wakens from her sleep to take watch, she stretches and takes pleasure in the amount of sleep she has had. More this night than any other since her capture. She comes close to Hamnish and says that she knows where we are. "I think we need to head towards Eisin to rescue your friend. If we have more people, then perhaps we will be able to come up with a workable plan for rescuing the Halflings, or others who are caught and trapped by the Orcs. We should head southeast so we can cross the river on the Road of Ruins. Once we have crossed the river I suggest we travel south of the road so as to avoid detection. But we need to add more people to our troop if we are to have any hope of besting the Orcs and defeating their plans to terrorize and enslave others." Chenris takes watch and as she watches, possible plans flow through her mind.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
To post a comment, please login or register a new account.
Now that Chenris is closer to the large body of orcs and is slightly past them, she feels that it is best to get as far from them as possible if she wants to survive. She takes a dash action in the direction of Hamnish.
Selphina climbs up on the wagon and uses her disguise kit to make herself more presentable.
Hamnish quickly looks at the scene in front of him. Although some of the orcs are busily pursuing the stampeding boros, the main group is still clustered near their camp. How can he draw them away? Once again, he attempts to draw the orcs away from the camp by attacking. Spurring his horse, Hamnish rides towards the orcs to within range. He looses arrows at orcs #1 and #4, then wheels around and heads back east, just far enough to stay out of the orcs powerful hands.
Attack with Longbow (Orc #1): to hit: 12, damage: 10
Bonus action (Hunter's Mark): Attack with Longbow (Orc #4): to hit: 21, damage: 10
Hamnish and Chenris:
Chenris scampers through the long grass on her short little weasel legs, moving as fast as she can towards the pounding horse and its rider. As she runs, the thunder of the horse's hooves becomes terribly loud as Hamnish closes to within a hundred feet to fire two more arrows at the clustered orcs. With a clang of their verdatch swords, the tightly grouped orcs block both arrows. "Come closer, and fight like a man!" Orc #8 roars, in Orcish. He grins at his comrades. "He'll have to, once his horse tires of scampering around."
Orc #5 bodily tears the arms off of the halfling who shouted and pointed. The halfling's terrible, agonized screams echo down the hillside. Orc #5 flings him down among his chained and huddled comrades, who are choking back sobs, trying to stay as quiet as they can.
"That's a waste," Orc #6 says. "We've got two boros to eat tonight already, and that's one less slave to sell. You never think, do you? You idiot."
Orc #5 turns in a rage on #6. "You shut up," he snarls. "Or I'll tear worse off of your insolent face."
"You go ahead and try it!" Orc #6 sneers. The two bickering orcs have ceased to pay much attention either to their prisoners, or to the lone rider slinging arrows.
Several hundred yards north now, the distant rodeo of orcs #10, #11, and #12 trying to catch the boros continues...
It is Chenris' turn, then Hamnish's.
Selphina:
"That'll do just wonderfully," the gnome woman says. "Let's go---those troops are thirsty!" The two gnome lads lean forward, straining on the yoke of the wagon. It lurches forward, its wheels rattling on the cobblestone streets. A few turns, and the cozy and pleasant streets of the Hearthhome give way to the muddy, cramped streets of the Weirhold, old brick buildings huddling close over the road, two and three stories of wooden tenements built on top of them. A few hucksters and beggars peek out from doorways and alleyways as the cart rattles by, but shy back out of sight as the gnome woman in the broad-brimmed hat shouts and hollers, "Make way, make way! Refreshment for the troops!"
Soon enough, the enormous city wall rises into site over the tops of the tenements. Seven feet thick and thirty feet high, the huge, imposing wall looms over the Leewall section of the city and the crammed carts, merchants, travelers, and soldiers pressing their way into and out of the city through the main gate. A single tower built into the wall reaches the height of sixty feet. Three imposing spiked portcullis make up the long gatehouse that guards the entrance into the city, and it bristles with hobgoblin guards, some of them holding large, ferocious looking dogs on leashes.
"Up, boys! Up for our special delivery!" Selphina's unabashed companion continues to call out. Throwing an arm around Selphina's shoulder, she beams and jostles her. "They'll like this batch, you be sure of it!" And she leans in theatrically to plant a big kiss on Selphina's cheek. But as she does so, she stops just short, and whispers into Selphina's ear: "If you have steel on you or anything of elves, we're dead. The dogs will smell it. But, deary, you know the rules, of course. Don't tell me what you've got or where. I'll give you one last kiss when it's time for you to run. Now stay calm, easy does it."
Selphina's only contraband is the page of a book, rolled up in her hidden inner vest pocket. She knows it's going to the elves, but it hasn't been there yet. She should be fine... and the wagon rattles towards the gate. A hobgoblin guard sees the party of gnomes and their wagon, and begins to raise the portcullis. The gnome woman smiles and waves at him.
(Please roll a Deception check.)
Selphina takes a deep breath and pulls out her lyre. She gets into character (deception: 21) and starts to play and hum a song of calming and casual indifference, hoping to soothe the hobgoblins (performance: 18) into only slightly shirking their duties when it comes to their wagon.
Chenris sees that Hamnish is fairly close to her. She reverts back to her halfling form, takes a jump and calls to Hamnish to attract his attention. She then quickly takes the wild shape of a riding horse and starts moving toward Hamnish and past him to get as far from the orcs as she can. She whinneys as she passes to make sure he notices her and hopes he will follow.
"What?" Hamnish gasps as a movement in the nearby grass catches his attention. Was that a halfling jumping up and down?
Hamnish glances towards the circled group of orcs. He can hear the taunts and jibes, but can see they are not moving towards him.
Quickly, he turns back to the halfling and sees... a horse? The creature starts running in the opposite direction from the orcs, whinnying fiercely and looking at him as it rushes past him.
In a decision prompted by intuition and hope (one of the halflings escaped?!), Hamnish turns his horse around and follows the quickly retreating mare.
Hamnish and Chenris:
As both horses set into a dead gallop across the waving long grass, they quickly pull away from the hill on which the orcs are camped, the imposing vanguard of that terrible race's strength and brutality fading small into the distance, as if truly the horses' hooves had wings to carry them away from all threats and cares. They press hard to the east, far from the orcs and the direction that the boros stampeded in, even as the sun passes the noonday zenith and begins to sink into its course to the west. Hamnish's steed pours sweat--though long used to pitched battle speed and the endurance of many miles, Hamnish can tell the speed and frenzy of the battle have worn out his horse--the animal will need rest, water, and grazing before too long. And what about this strange mare? Was this the druidic magic of the halflings that he has heard such legend of?
He spares first a thought to the fallen Sardric... and then for the mentor he seeks, Eythorial, the Gift Giver of the Tree of Lights. His mission comes back to him, and if he allows his horse to slow, he sees that the longgrass around him now is overgrazed, speckled with spindly weed bushes, the grass shorter than the waving seas of it he so shortly left behind in his journey south towards Eisin. Those who hold Eythorial prisoner may not yet have landed at Baden's Bluff to start their own southward march to Eisin, but Hamnish can tell, courtesy of his mad dash after the magical mare, that the land here has been recently, though not too recently, grazed down by the long ranging herds of boro and sheep corralled to feed the orcish armies that march along the old King's Roads.
(OOC: You are out of combat initiative. You may talk to one another, decide on a plan, try to figure out where you are, or where you'd like to head next.)
Selphina:
The portcullis raises high like a set of jagged teeth framing a consuming maw. The gnomes pulling the wagon throw themselves into it without hesitation, and Selphina and her hat-wearing companion show themselves lively and laughing, whatever nerves either of them might have pushed into some small corner of their minds as they sell their confidence with aplomb to the guards. The hobgoblins virtually ignore them--raising the portcullis, lowering it with a clang behind the wagon, walking the huge dogs up on their leashes to sniff the wagon and its occupants--looking as bored with their routine as they could possibly be, with impatient glances towards the traffic lined up on either side of the portcullis.
Even Selphina's rapturous song, besides earning a snarl from one of the dogs, seems only to increase the hobgoblins' desire to move them along their way. Though it seems like an eternity before the second portcullis is raised to let them out of the city, it's barely a moment before they're walking free outside the thick stone walls, down through the heavy traffic of the enormous hard-packed road, the Road of Ruin as it is called now, that runs all the way to Eisin in the Westlands, a highway for the hobnailed boots of orcish armies in their thirst for blood and conquest.
Selphina's gnome companion sings along with her, waving to orcs, merchants, legates, and everyone they pass on the road. As the city traffic slows and the minutes seem to drag into hours, war camps speckle the roadside. Selphina just finishes her song as the gnome woman accompanies her climactic flourish with a stamp of her tall boot, and a muffled oath from one of the gnomes pulling the wagon filters up as the wagon grinds to a halt.
"Oh, lads, what is it now? Hit a rock did you? Come on, let's see to it!" The gnome woman leans over, plants a kiss on Selphina's cheek, and then stands up and jumps off the wagon.
Selphina remembers that was the signal to run. She looks around, and sees a wide ditch along the road, a series of rolling hills and woodlands descending south from the bluff. It shouldn't be too hard to slip away unnoticed, if she's quick and keeps to the valleys and trees.
(Describe your escape, and give me a Stealth roll!)
Looking back to make sure once again that the orcs were not following him and the wild horse, Hamnish slows his tiring steed to a walk. Feeling a bit foolish (what if the horse is just a horse?), he loudly says, "Of course, if you are just a horse, you wouldn't be staying with me, would you.?" As he talks, Hamnish is looking for a place to rest.
Now that Hamnish has slowed to a walk, Chenris turns back into her normal self. Chenris looks at Hamnish and says, "I wish I could have saved the other halflings as well. It doesn't sit well with me to leave them as prisoners of the Orcs. But maybe I can still do something even though I'm no longer there with them." She sighs heavily. Then, she says, " Good sir, thank you for your assistance against the Orcs so that I could get away. My name is Chenris. When you find a good place to rest, we can talk and see what needs to be done next."
Having turned in his saddle to view the accompanying horse, Hamnish was slightly startled to see a halfling instead. So the legends are true!
Stopping his horse, Hamnish said, " I deeply regret the loss of your friends, Chenris. We are often overwhelmed by the power of Izrador and ofttimes must flee to survive. But that truth doesn't lessen the cost."
"My name is Hamnish, a rider for House Redguard, on my way to Eisin in the south. Some circling vultures led me to you and your captors."
"Climb aboard", he said, extending a hand to the halfling, "and we will find a place to rest."
It wasn't too long before Hamnish found a copse of trees that suggested a small spring welling nearby. Most important, there was enough grass to allow his horse ample forage.
After hobbling the horse to graze, and unwilling to light a fire, Hamnish shared his cold rations with the halfling.
"I will take the first watch.", looking at the exhausted Chenris. "Sleep as long as you can. Later, we can talk of our next steps."
Hamnish and Chenris:
Hamnish continues to ride east, keeping the afternoon sun at his back until it sinks slowly near the horizon, before he begins to look for a place to rest. His horse is sheened with sweat, its nostrils wide as it continues to recover air after its perilous run and the continued travel of the day. As the valleys begin to dip downwards and the sword grass becomes more verdant, small groves of trees appear more frequently. Though at first Hamnish suspects a spring, the flow of the land and plant growth begins to suggest to him that they are approaching a river, or at least a large stream.
The two eat their cold dinner as the horse gratefully munches away at grass. The Dornish ranger and the secretive halfling have discovered something of a language barrier, but Hamnish knows enough Erenlander to make himself understood to Chenris, who, being a native of Central Erenland, is fluent.
As Hamnish takes his watch, the sun sinking slowly below the horizon. His mind turns over the plans he must now make. He came ashore and rode south, hoping to head for Eisin. He tracked the orcs approximately due north from the destroyed halfling camp, and after he and the mysteriously magical halfling escaped the orcs, they rode east for the rest of the afternoon. Which direction do they want to head now? And where are the orcs likely to take the remaining halflings?
Hamnish please roll Perception for your watch. Please also remove 2 rations from your inventory.
If either of you would like to try and figure out where you are, or where the orcs might be likely to take the other halflings, please make a History check.
Perception check: 18
History check: 8
Chenris rolls a 17 for her history check.
After Chenris awakes, she attempts to talk with Hamnish. She has no specific plans since the Orcs destroyed her way of life when they captured the halflings. She lost everything. Her ultimate goal is to see if she can help the other halflings escape, but that isn't something she can do on her own. She isn't quite sure if there is anyone who can help her, but she isn't likely to be too trustful at this point. She trusts Hamnish since he was trying to fight the Orcs that had captured her. She explains to Hamnish that she is happy to help him with any of his plans, but she would like to help her fellow halflings if there is any way she can. She doesn't want to leave them in the hands of the Orcs. Does he know of anyone who would be able to help her rescue the halflings? If Hamnish is okay with it, she'd like to stay with him while she figures out what she can do for the Halflings. Does he have any idea of where they might be?
Hamnish and Chenris:
The Dornish ranger and the bedraggled halfling speak in low tones, trying to figure out what they know and what they want to do next. Despite the proximity of the river, and knowing that the Sea of Pelluria lies somewhere to the north, Hamnish is unsure of where they are. Until five days ago, he had never set foot on the southern shore of the Pelluria, and the land is still strange and unfamiliar to him. He recalls from his condensed geography lessons from members of the Redgard Riders that the city of Baden's Bluff lies somewhere along the coast to the east, and beyond it the city of Erenhead, framing the mouth of the Eren river that drains from the Pelluria southwards to the great ocean. Eisin, the city he seeks to where House Redgard believes that Eythorial will be taken, lies south of Baden's Bluff, at the end of one of the crumbled great King's roads, now known as the Road of Ruin. But as to how far they are from any of the roads, or what river they are near now, he has no idea.
But Chenris knows where they are. Her nomadic tribe has long wandered the undulating rills and channels of the sea of swordgrass and panock tree oases west of the Eren river, lingering often in the great shade of distant Erethor, the forest of the elves. Her tribe calls them "the lands of the wandering people". She knows now that the green lowlands they have approached that dip towards the east is the valley of the River Orh, a small river that flows north into the Pelluria from the Trollskarl forest. Between where they are now, and the Trollskarl, the Road of Ruin crosses the river, but it is yet south of them. Baden's Bluff is some two hundred miles away along the coast, and countless Erenlander towns and villages... or what's left of them... line the Road of Ruin, and the Road of Salt and Tears, that lead from this area to that once-great city. Chenris also knows that people who are enslaved from the scattered villages that still try to eke out a living in this area are often marched to the salt mines of Aarl at the end of the Road of Salt and Tears, about fifty miles east of the River Orh. Perhaps captured halflings would be brought there as well... if they are not marched all the way to the farms at Erenhead, which horrible, whispered tales recalled to her tribe as the Shadow's favored place to enslave the poor little creatures to their brutal labor.
As Chenris slips into much-needed slumber, Hamnish sits watch, his steed placidly grazing as the sun sinks below the horizon and darkness covers the plains. As the sun's light fades, clusters of bright stars wink into view in the deep blue expanse of the heavens above. Hamnish is comforted to see familiar constellations and patterns of stars spangled across the sky, although they are in a different place in the sky than he remembers them being in the North, and there are some that he has not seen before. He himself knows little of the stars, nor of the changes in them through the progression of the arcs. The Arc of Hanud, in which they now are, marks the beginning of winter, and while some great Sarcosan sages might probably be able to tell you a thousand tales of the Sorshef depicted in the stars during that time as they ride with the departed souls traditionally honored in this Arc, the Dornish riders of House Redgard have made no great study of such things.
Hamnish's sharp eyes and ears follow the relatively peaceful sounds of the night. He is too far to hear the waves of the sea, or the lap of the river over its rocks, yet he imagines the ways that the waters will take him, and many others he does not know, perhaps even this very night, away to safety from Izrador's forces... while hobnailed orc boots that stomp through the muddy waters take others trembling in terror closer to them.
Selphina jumps off the wagon along with everyone else to see what happened. She stands towards the back of the group, as close to the ditch as possible. Once everyone's attention is focused on the wagon problem, she takes a deep breath and slips into the ditch (Stealth:17). Selphina quietly and quickly runs along the ditch towards the woodlands. She picks up a bit of mud to hide any bright colors on her clothing and make a nature camo to better hide in the shadows of the woods.
Selphina:
As they all assemble off the wagon onto the road, the other gnomes pay no attention to Selphina, seemingly completely focused on the wagon, the strong lads pulling it coming around to the wheels and poking their heads underneath. But she notices that the gnome woman in the broad-brimmed hat positions herself where she's between Selphina and the widest view from the road, not even drawing attention to her with a glance.
Selphina is able to slip into the ditch, seemingly without anyone noticing. Her expertise at disguise comes well in hand as she smears the mud tactfully over her clothing. It is several tense minutes of the sun beating down on her hair as she worms her way through the low places in the grasslands, the shout and tromp of troops on the hard-packed road fading into the distance, the laughter and raucous singing of the gnomes drifting faintly farther away as they push their wagon on again. Soon, Selphina can't hear the sounds of the road anymore, only the rush of the wind over the grass, and, as she finally makes it to the little crop of woods in the low dipped valley, the buzz of insects and the twitter of birds. For the moment, it seems, she is safe from prying eyes.
Now she can take stock of her supplies and make a plan for where she is going... she well knows that it is not a short journey to Erethor, the forest where the elves live and make their stronghold against the troops of Izrador. Nor is it easy in many places to cross the Burning Line. Selphina has the clothes on her back, and the supplies in her bag, she has some knowledge of the geography south of the Pelluria, from the many landmarks and directions stored in the many songs that she knows, handed down through gnome companies for generations in Erenland. What would she like to do next?
Roll a History check to see what Selphina knows of the area and routes she can take to wherever she would like to head.
The Baden resistance in Baden's Bluff has hidden caches of items in many locations throughout Erenland, some in the cities, some in the wilderness. If you'd like to see if Selphina might know where to find one nearby, tell me what supplies you'd like to find, and then roll History to see if she knows of one, and then Investigation to see if she can find it. Remember to make the rolls on your character sheet so they're added to the game log!
As Chenris slowly wakens from her sleep to take watch, she stretches and takes pleasure in the amount of sleep she has had. More this night than any other since her capture. She comes close to Hamnish and says that she knows where we are. "I think we need to head towards Eisin to rescue your friend. If we have more people, then perhaps we will be able to come up with a workable plan for rescuing the Halflings, or others who are caught and trapped by the Orcs. We should head southeast so we can cross the river on the Road of Ruins. Once we have crossed the river I suggest we travel south of the road so as to avoid detection. But we need to add more people to our troop if we are to have any hope of besting the Orcs and defeating their plans to terrorize and enslave others." Chenris takes watch and as she watches, possible plans flow through her mind.