" Roofs torn off and brochs tumbled to the nor'west .......one of those that lived a while swlre it was a Fachan......some say they're a fell breed of Fathach, Fermirians they're cry'd en Glissom, Ay ken."
"Dire trouble then, nay just a simple matter of rebuilding wha' was torn down." Vardi says in quietly sympathetic reply then fills her mouth with oatcake and ale to politely silence it while she thinks further on what has been related.
OOC: Vardi would know more, in the sense she'd like to know more, and might know more, but let's see what the dice have to say about the matter of the Fathach branch of the Fermerian folk first. Arcana Total of 17, History Total of 18.
Vardi is far more knowledgeable about Skrymir and the Jotunn of Mercania and homespun whispers that the scattered island chain she hails from is all that remains of sundered Jotunheimr. But she has heard tales from vikingr sailors and captains sailing north around Thuland to raid or trade with Glissom and Ereworn of strange glass towers glimpsed among the icefields and horned and hooved bodies of titans frozen within the icefloes....she has not heard of these Fachan directly but giants of a number of kinds are well known in the tales of both her original and adopted homeland.
Máel: " Fachan? A great misshapen bogie....tall as a tree or hill in the old tales."
Vardi swallows her mouthful of oatcake and observes pragmatically "Giant-kin, and nay a friendly sort, by the sound of it." then reaches for another oatcake to soak up the nettles and kale, attentive but hungry for more than tales can fill.
Máel: " I don't know of anyone who can ever claim to have seen one in all my days but....perhaps it is true."
The Lyften lass nods silently in polite agreement.
Máel: " The Old One? I dinnae rightly know.....but she's lived out there since my Ma was wee, tales tell those that cross her end badly."
"A woman to treat gently then, and one tha' nay doubt values her peaceful if solitary life..." the blacksmith murmurs thoughtfully, as if musing to herself then hastily adds "Thank ye fer yer aid in knowing more of the nature of tha trouble tha' has come to pass here, and fer yer most generous hospitality." as she is anxious to give no cause for offense to Rory, Máel, or either of their sons.
She asks cautiously "Did tha poor soul who died have any kinfolk here?"
... Cainneach feels great trepidation about potentially confronting a Fachan, but based on what he recalls of the tales told regarding such beings, it seems improbable that they are real. All of which is to say that Cainneach returns Thatch's glance with a look of skeptical fear. He also discreetly, and hopefully reassuringly, takes Famh's hand under the table, as he's certain that she is familiar with the tales of those giants as well.
(She might have just heard the name though, or not remember much more than anyone else...prob more fair to see what the dice say)
Famh's Arcana on fachankin 11
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Famh returns Cainneach's handclasp under the table, adding a worried squeeze. The name is clearly familiar to her; but from the grateful look in her eyes when Vardi mentions giantkin, he can tell she'd been struggling to place them among the many odd scraps and pieces of legend she cherishes in her memory. But she still seems troubled by a further detail about the creatures that she can't quite put her finger on. She listens intently to the continuing discussion.
Máel: " The Old One? I dinnae rightly know.....but she's lived out there since my Ma was wee, tales tell those that cross her end badly."
Vardi: "A woman to treat gently then, and one tha' nay doubt values her peaceful if solitary life..." the blacksmith murmurs thoughtfully, as if musing to herself then hastily adds"Thank ye fer yer aid in knowing more of the nature of tha trouble tha' has come to pass here, and fer yer most generous hospitality."as she is anxious to give no cause for offense to Rory, Máel, or either of their sons.
"Is she a Cailleach Feasa, then? A wisewoman?" Famh's eyes brighten again, clearly intrigued. "I coud see why e'en a Fachan widnae want tae trouble such an ane. And she micht know somethin' more aboot hou we coud drive aff sic a bogie, or lay it altogether." She swallows another bite and smiles at Mael in appreciation.
"But as Vardi says, it woud probably be best for us no tae disturb her rest either. We shoud time our gaun tae get thare at terce or after in the mornin', I'd think. How far did ye say her steadin' wis from here?"
=========
(OOC terce = probably @ 9AM. From an essay, "Telling the Time in the Middle Ages" on the writer April Munday's blog:
"Most people got up at daybreak, which was prime, or the first hour. The third hour, terce, was about halfway between daybreak and noon. Sext, or noon, was the sixth hour. The ninth hour, nones, was about halfway bewteen noon and sunset. Vespers was the twelfth hour, or sunset.")
Sir Almeric leans back enjoying the repast and noting the efficiency and knowledge of the companions, he doubts his tales of Ascapart and Jack o' Legs will have much bearing here.
He waits to see what else will be ventured or revealed.
"But as Vardi says, it woud probably be best for us no tae disturb her rest either. We shoud time our gaun tae get thare at terce or after in the mornin', I'd think. How far did ye say her steadin' wis from here?"
Máel fixed Famh with a friendly look, " Aye, you've the right of it. And a fell one they say if she doesna take to ye."
" Nay long, up at sunup will get ye thereabouts when your aimin'."
Cainneach sighs inwardly in relief, thankful for the suggestion of a morning departure. Up at sunup wouldn't be a problem with the rest they had throughout the day. Perhaps it wasn't making a great impression on their hosts to be such a sleepy party, but pushing on now would certainly end with a much worse result than moving on come morning.
The forester enjoys holding his betrothed's hand throughout the rest of the meal, exchanging adoring glances with Famh between bites of the wholesome food and polite conversation with Rory, Mael, and their children.
(Slight retcon if permitted ...) Before retiring for their day slumber, Cainneach used what magic he had left to cast Goodberry.
Before retiring for the night slumber, Cainneach will speak to the party, still clearly not fully composed amidst their transition back to a normal sleep schedule, but in earnest. "Friends, if what these good folk say of this unearthly woman and the grotesque giant are true, we'll face dangers unlike those we've yet encountered. But we'll come through it, like we always do. I believe Morkaan will protect us in these northern lands, human and animal alike." He directs a serious nod toward Skuggi and Salt. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some rest and prepare myself for the travails of morrow." He gives Famh a courtly kiss on the cheek and signals to Salt to follow him to their room, where he undoubtedly sleeps soundly (until the DM indicates otherwise ;-) ).
“Giant-kin?” Thatch eyes widen in surprise and he looks at Rory “Bigger’en you?”He looks back at Ori and Vardi “I’ve not seen much bigger than our good serjeant here or Vardi. I will have to sit on their shoulders to look the thing in it’s eyes. Where did they come from? Surely something that big can’t go unnoticed for long.”
"Taller than a tree or hill would make for a giant, or so I would reckon. 'Pends on tha tree or hill in question though." Vardi offers in fairness, then lifts her hands up in honest surrender as she admits "I have heard tell of some folk so small tha' ye'd a great and terrible giant ta them, Thatch, and I'd just be a monstrous hobnailed boot and a rumbling o' thunder overhead."
She gestures in the direction of the door and adds in cheerful practicality "There's a lot of space out there, but we're most likely lookin' for bootprints tha size of a broch. That helps us some, aye?"
The companions went to their rest and slept well ( can have kept watches if you wish but the broch and outbuildings are solid and nothing interrupts your sleep) rising before the sun with the noise of Rory and the two boys heading out to let the herd out to pasture.
Indeed they were most of the way through breakfast when Rory came bursting back through the door of the broch, " Cannae ye com wit', Friends. Wee have need o'ye blades."
Cainneach feels considerably better after a solid night of sleep and another hearty breakfast in his stomach. His eyes narrow at Rory's plea. "Aye Ser, that's what we're here for! I'll grab my swords and bow and be at your side in a moment!" He gives Famh a smile and rises to return to his room where his weapons and pack are stashed. What good fortune, a potential encounter against real, flesh and bone men, rather than the various ghouls and monsters they've squared off against of late. Salt hops up as well, somewhat surprised, but obediently follows the forester out of the room.
Vardi, who slept well after 1st Watch, and was enjoying her pottage in a contemplative mood, puts down her bowl with great care, then leaves the room to grab her things, reasoning that at this point, any raiders stealthy enough to steal cattle away in the night without notice are well away already, but she cannot be certain of that. Skuggavardi leaps onto the basket, sensing that his quiet morning nap is over, and already curious to know more.
She looks briefly to Ser Almeric and Sargeant Ori, but her feet have already decided for the rest of her as she asks "We take a good look round, find wha's occurred here, and figure out where we go fra there, aye Sers?" mere moments before she hastens outside after Rory, wary of what may be afoot, but equally anxious to aid their hosts in time of need.
Thatch looks up from his breakfast and springs into action as he realizes what Rory is saying. Grabbing a hunk of bread and slipping it into his pocket for later, he heads to their room and quickly secures his weapons and equipment, strapping both shortswords to his belt and slinging his shortbow and quiver across his back.
Happy to be focused on simple raiders instead of the giant-kin he heard about last night, he follows Cainneach out into the yard. He pulls up the hood of his cloak and nods to Vardi “A quick look around, Cainneach and I should find their trail quick enough, especially if they are keeping the animals together.” He heads out with Rory and helps Cainneach look for any sign or tracks.
Ori might be having a hard time following the conversation, but he knew a call to arms when he heard it. Confirmed by the reactions of the others, he say, "Oi mates time to earn your keep again, grab ya gear and get on it!"
Once outside, club in hand Ori followed the others to see where the action was to be, he tried not to interfere with the scouts but didn't want to be too far behind them.
Famh quickly swallows her last bite of parritch and springs to her feet. "Och, ye poor folk are havin' troubles. A fachan's na enouch, but the folk o' Morrigan must raid ye ower that? it's like the old saw has it: the yillen niver falls but it brings a goselet wi't." She dashes back to the pallet where she slept and grabs her gear before following the others outside. She quickly lashes her dearg to the top of her short staff; and unobtrusively slips her magic needle into the top of her sling pouch so both are easily accessible. Then she turns to Rory Mor. "Can ye show us tae the byre the coos were ta'en from? Or were they oot tae night pasture?"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Happy to be focused on simple raiders instead of the giant-kin he heard about last night, he follows Cainneach out into the yard. He pulls up the hood of his cloak and nods to Vardi “A quick look around, Cainneach and I should find their trail quick enough, especially if they are keeping the animals together.” He heads out with Rory and helps Cainneach look for any sign or tracks.
Cainneach retrieves his gear as well, donning his sword belt, pack, bow, and quiver. His armour, comfortable enough, he had put on before breakfast. After joining the rest of the party and following Rory to the location of the crime, he attempts to pick up the trail of the brigands and the coos, with Thatch's help. Salt will lend his nose to the cause.
The companions gathered themselves and headed out soon coming across Rorys sons who stood atop a hillock and were looking into the distance wistfully, " Da, we lost 'em."
Rory scratched his head and looked around but Cainneach had already picked up the trail and Salt had the scent as well.....to Cainneachs eyes there were more men in the raiding party than Rory and the lads would have been able to handle alone....
Another hour of trekking over the hills and dales of northern Thuland brought them to a craggy outcrop, Thatch signalled for them to get down and pointed down into a small blind gully.
Below were a goodly number of coos, their hairy sides bellowing in and out at having been driven hard across country.
Blocking exit from the gully were a dozen men not much older than Rorys sons, they were dressed in grey woolen wraps that coiled about their bodies and were fastened by a brass pin and leather belt with a large buckle-type clasp.
The men were armed with spears and H-shaped shields, the tallest carried a long hafted axe-blade instead.
They did not appear to be expecting pursuit, which was fair as if the companions had not been present only Rory and his sons would have been available for pursuit and greatly outnumbered.
Rory looked down, " Didn't keep an eye out, me own fault. I kenned it was too cold fer raidin'."
" Roofs torn off and brochs tumbled to the nor'west .......one of those that lived a while swlre it was a Fachan......some say they're a fell breed of Fathach, Fermirians they're cry'd en Glissom, Ay ken."
"Dire trouble then, nay just a simple matter of rebuilding wha' was torn down." Vardi says in quietly sympathetic reply then fills her mouth with oatcake and ale to politely silence it while she thinks further on what has been related.
OOC: Vardi would know more, in the sense she'd like to know more, and might know more, but let's see what the dice have to say about the matter of the Fathach branch of the Fermerian folk first. Arcana Total of 17, History Total of 18.
Vardi is far more knowledgeable about Skrymir and the Jotunn of Mercania and homespun whispers that the scattered island chain she hails from is all that remains of sundered Jotunheimr. But she has heard tales from vikingr sailors and captains sailing north around Thuland to raid or trade with Glissom and Ereworn of strange glass towers glimpsed among the icefields and horned and hooved bodies of titans frozen within the icefloes....she has not heard of these Fachan directly but giants of a number of kinds are well known in the tales of both her original and adopted homeland.
Máel: " Fachan? A great misshapen bogie....tall as a tree or hill in the old tales."
Vardi swallows her mouthful of oatcake and observes pragmatically "Giant-kin, and nay a friendly sort, by the sound of it." then reaches for another oatcake to soak up the nettles and kale, attentive but hungry for more than tales can fill.
Máel: " I don't know of anyone who can ever claim to have seen one in all my days but....perhaps it is true."
The Lyften lass nods silently in polite agreement.
Máel: " The Old One? I dinnae rightly know.....but she's lived out there since my Ma was wee, tales tell those that cross her end badly."
"A woman to treat gently then, and one tha' nay doubt values her peaceful if solitary life..." the blacksmith murmurs thoughtfully, as if musing to herself then hastily adds "Thank ye fer yer aid in knowing more of the nature of tha trouble tha' has come to pass here, and fer yer most generous hospitality." as she is anxious to give no cause for offense to Rory, Máel, or either of their sons.
She asks cautiously "Did tha poor soul who died have any kinfolk here?"
(She might have just heard the name though, or not remember much more than anyone else...prob more fair to see what the dice say)
Famh's Arcana on fachankin 11
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Famh returns Cainneach's handclasp under the table, adding a worried squeeze. The name is clearly familiar to her; but from the grateful look in her eyes when Vardi mentions giantkin, he can tell she'd been struggling to place them among the many odd scraps and pieces of legend she cherishes in her memory. But she still seems troubled by a further detail about the creatures that she can't quite put her finger on. She listens intently to the continuing discussion.
"Is she a Cailleach Feasa, then? A wisewoman?" Famh's eyes brighten again, clearly intrigued. "I coud see why e'en a Fachan widnae want tae trouble such an ane. And she micht know somethin' more aboot hou we coud drive aff sic a bogie, or lay it altogether." She swallows another bite and smiles at Mael in appreciation.
"But as Vardi says, it woud probably be best for us no tae disturb her rest either. We shoud time our gaun tae get thare at terce or after in the mornin', I'd think. How far did ye say her steadin' wis from here?"
=========
(OOC terce = probably @ 9AM. From an essay, "Telling the Time in the Middle Ages" on the writer April Munday's blog:
"Most people got up at daybreak, which was prime, or the first hour. The third hour, terce, was about halfway between daybreak and noon. Sext, or noon, was the sixth hour. The ninth hour, nones, was about halfway bewteen noon and sunset. Vespers was the twelfth hour, or sunset.")
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Sir Almeric leans back enjoying the repast and noting the efficiency and knowledge of the companions, he doubts his tales of Ascapart and Jack o' Legs will have much bearing here.
He waits to see what else will be ventured or revealed.
Máel fixed Famh with a friendly look, " Aye, you've the right of it. And a fell one they say if she doesna take to ye."
" Nay long, up at sunup will get ye thereabouts when your aimin'."
Cainneach sighs inwardly in relief, thankful for the suggestion of a morning departure. Up at sunup wouldn't be a problem with the rest they had throughout the day. Perhaps it wasn't making a great impression on their hosts to be such a sleepy party, but pushing on now would certainly end with a much worse result than moving on come morning.
The forester enjoys holding his betrothed's hand throughout the rest of the meal, exchanging adoring glances with Famh between bites of the wholesome food and polite conversation with Rory, Mael, and their children.
(Slight retcon if permitted ...) Before retiring for their day slumber, Cainneach used what magic he had left to cast Goodberry.
Before retiring for the night slumber, Cainneach will speak to the party, still clearly not fully composed amidst their transition back to a normal sleep schedule, but in earnest. "Friends, if what these good folk say of this unearthly woman and the grotesque giant are true, we'll face dangers unlike those we've yet encountered. But we'll come through it, like we always do. I believe Morkaan will protect us in these northern lands, human and animal alike." He directs a serious nod toward Skuggi and Salt. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get some rest and prepare myself for the travails of morrow." He gives Famh a courtly kiss on the cheek and signals to Salt to follow him to their room, where he undoubtedly sleeps soundly (until the DM indicates otherwise ;-) ).
Active - Player: Sleeping Gods ---- Complete - Player: Masquerade, Teleportation Machine ---- Complete - DM: Extradimensional Spaces
Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
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( I'll get a couple of other posts then pack you lot off to bed.
Rolls:- 18, 44 )
“Giant-kin?” Thatch eyes widen in surprise and he looks at Rory “Bigger’en you?” He looks back at Ori and Vardi “I’ve not seen much bigger than our good serjeant here or Vardi. I will have to sit on their shoulders to look the thing in it’s eyes. Where did they come from? Surely something that big can’t go unnoticed for long.”
"Taller than a tree or hill would make for a giant, or so I would reckon. 'Pends on tha tree or hill in question though." Vardi offers in fairness, then lifts her hands up in honest surrender as she admits "I have heard tell of some folk so small tha' ye'd a great and terrible giant ta them, Thatch, and I'd just be a monstrous hobnailed boot and a rumbling o' thunder overhead."
She gestures in the direction of the door and adds in cheerful practicality "There's a lot of space out there, but we're most likely lookin' for bootprints tha size of a broch. That helps us some, aye?"
The companions went to their rest and slept well ( can have kept watches if you wish but the broch and outbuildings are solid and nothing interrupts your sleep) rising before the sun with the noise of Rory and the two boys heading out to let the herd out to pasture.
Indeed they were most of the way through breakfast when Rory came bursting back through the door of the broch, " Cannae ye com wit', Friends. Wee have need o'ye blades."
" We' ha' callers. Morrigan lads, I ken."
" Wan' to help may ge me coos back?"
Cainneach feels considerably better after a solid night of sleep and another hearty breakfast in his stomach. His eyes narrow at Rory's plea. "Aye Ser, that's what we're here for! I'll grab my swords and bow and be at your side in a moment!" He gives Famh a smile and rises to return to his room where his weapons and pack are stashed. What good fortune, a potential encounter against real, flesh and bone men, rather than the various ghouls and monsters they've squared off against of late. Salt hops up as well, somewhat surprised, but obediently follows the forester out of the room.
Active - Player: Sleeping Gods ---- Complete - Player: Masquerade, Teleportation Machine ---- Complete - DM: Extradimensional Spaces
Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
It never hurts to help! ---- PbP: [Rolling Dice] [Tooltips] ---- DDB Content: [Free Adventures] [Encounter of the Week]
Vardi, who slept well after 1st Watch, and was enjoying her pottage in a contemplative mood, puts down her bowl with great care, then leaves the room to grab her things, reasoning that at this point, any raiders stealthy enough to steal cattle away in the night without notice are well away already, but she cannot be certain of that. Skuggavardi leaps onto the basket, sensing that his quiet morning nap is over, and already curious to know more.
She looks briefly to Ser Almeric and Sargeant Ori, but her feet have already decided for the rest of her as she asks "We take a good look round, find wha's occurred here, and figure out where we go fra there, aye Sers?" mere moments before she hastens outside after Rory, wary of what may be afoot, but equally anxious to aid their hosts in time of need.
Thatch looks up from his breakfast and springs into action as he realizes what Rory is saying. Grabbing a hunk of bread and slipping it into his pocket for later, he heads to their room and quickly secures his weapons and equipment, strapping both shortswords to his belt and slinging his shortbow and quiver across his back.
Happy to be focused on simple raiders instead of the giant-kin he heard about last night, he follows Cainneach out into the yard. He pulls up the hood of his cloak and nods to Vardi “A quick look around, Cainneach and I should find their trail quick enough, especially if they are keeping the animals together.” He heads out with Rory and helps Cainneach look for any sign or tracks.
Ori might be having a hard time following the conversation, but he knew a call to arms when he heard it. Confirmed by the reactions of the others, he say, "Oi mates time to earn your keep again, grab ya gear and get on it!"
Once outside, club in hand Ori followed the others to see where the action was to be, he tried not to interfere with the scouts but didn't want to be too far behind them.
Famh quickly swallows her last bite of parritch and springs to her feet. "Och, ye poor folk are havin' troubles. A fachan's na enouch, but the folk o' Morrigan must raid ye ower that? it's like the old saw has it: the yillen niver falls but it brings a goselet wi't." She dashes back to the pallet where she slept and grabs her gear before following the others outside. She quickly lashes her dearg to the top of her short staff; and unobtrusively slips her magic needle into the top of her sling pouch so both are easily accessible. Then she turns to Rory Mor. "Can ye show us tae the byre the coos were ta'en from? Or were they oot tae night pasture?"
Famh Thrawn Fiadhaich - 'half elven' sorcerer (wild magic) 2, Sleeping Gods - A Dragon Warriors campaign in the Lands of Legend
Quspira Inirali - tiefling cleric (Life domain) 4, Painted's "He'll be the father of my child"
---RETIRED HEROES' REST HOME---
Sae Ivui Nailo - wood elf rogue (inquisitive) 5 , Sea of Death: Captain Hailstorm's Lost Treasure
Ryshraxea "Shra" Naranthi - tabaxi artificer 1, Nyx's Tomb of Annihilation - Group 1
Sir Almeric took a short while to don part of his armour and followed the others.....
Cainneach retrieves his gear as well, donning his sword belt, pack, bow, and quiver. His armour, comfortable enough, he had put on before breakfast. After joining the rest of the party and following Rory to the location of the crime, he attempts to pick up the trail of the brigands and the coos, with Thatch's help. Salt will lend his nose to the cause.
Survival 18
Salt - Perception 20
Active - Player: Sleeping Gods ---- Complete - Player: Masquerade, Teleportation Machine ---- Complete - DM: Extradimensional Spaces
Come join the Worlds of Pphost, a new and growing PbP community! Adventures are currently running in the world of Haven or do some role-playing!
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The companions gathered themselves and headed out soon coming across Rorys sons who stood atop a hillock and were looking into the distance wistfully, " Da, we lost 'em."
Rory scratched his head and looked around but Cainneach had already picked up the trail and Salt had the scent as well.....to Cainneachs eyes there were more men in the raiding party than Rory and the lads would have been able to handle alone....
Another hour of trekking over the hills and dales of northern Thuland brought them to a craggy outcrop, Thatch signalled for them to get down and pointed down into a small blind gully.
Below were a goodly number of coos, their hairy sides bellowing in and out at having been driven hard across country.
Blocking exit from the gully were a dozen men not much older than Rorys sons, they were dressed in grey woolen wraps that coiled about their bodies and were fastened by a brass pin and leather belt with a large buckle-type clasp.
The men were armed with spears and H-shaped shields, the tallest carried a long hafted axe-blade instead.
They did not appear to be expecting pursuit, which was fair as if the companions had not been present only Rory and his sons would have been available for pursuit and greatly outnumbered.
Rory looked down, " Didn't keep an eye out, me own fault. I kenned it was too cold fer raidin'."