"Wha' matters now izzat we're alive. Nae muir. Now imma go grab me some bacon."

And he does that.

Vondal lets out a quiet but drawn out 'o' and nods after in understanding. "I... cannot remember if I told this story before, or not for the life of me, but... I was named after the first of the Stormfist. The one who earned us our place as our own clan for-... *chuckles*… for knocking out a storm giant in one hit with a single punch. No magic. No armaments. Just pure, gold dwarven strength honed while our people were under the yoke of those dastardly giants." 

Vondal spits off to the side. Less out of genuine anger, and seemingly more out of learned habit. "My family.. my clan... they have forgotten this root. Like they forgot a number of things. I fear the only reason I was named after him was for some future political maneuver. " He says bitterly, clasping one hand over a balled up fist, and clutching it tightly. "But, I had not. I-.... I wanted... A part of me wanted to live up to that name, as any good and noble dwarf would want. But now, I-... wonder if should have approached things from another way. Maybe even try to guide them by joining the clergy, instead of getting so wrapped up in just about anything that--" 

Vondal shakes his head, and sort of withdrew into himself at that point. But hearing Bron speak up, some of the ire from earlier returned to the fore, prompting him to say, "You are not getting off the hook that easily, Bron. We -- most of us -- still want answers. Not going to force you right at this moment. But before whole venture is done. We would have them. Because you are brother. Brothers look out for each other." He glances over to Einar, and with a smile adds. "Even if that means using more unorthodox methods." 

Once saying his piece, Nif returns to his spot and continues his watch.

Einar grimaces slightly and grits his teeth when Bron speaks, but otherwise holds his tongue. He converses a bit more with Vondal as he keeps his eyes on the surrounding woods, watching for anymore signs of danger.

As the sun begins to rise, Einar moves to re-hitch the oxen and reload the few supplies used to make camp back onto the wagon.

Vondal remained willing to speak, but steadily avoids conversing further elaborating on his situation with his family as per the usual. He seems genuinely caught off-guard by the rising sun over the horizon after getting wrapped up in telling more stories about the first Vondal's accomplishments. Thus, Vondal bows in apology to Einar for not being able to help as he rushes to a quiet corner to begin his morning exercises. 

Unlike the previous times before in which seemed as if he was only going through the motions of a routine, the gold dwarf began using forms that Karl and Nif -- having known him the longest -- would find to be at least vaguely familiar from the early times. Almost every movement was punctuated with a hard blow at a phantom enemy, or a hard step to ground him. And with each shift in form, he accompanied them with a word in dwarvish such as 'Shield', 'Resolve', 'Hammer', 'Hone', and 'Mold'. He stumbles over his efforts at time, but doesn't relent in the exercise/prayer until the exact moment it is time  to move on.

Bron continues to attempt to merge his face to his bacon.

The rest of the early morning goes by uneventfully. A little later than the previous morning, everyone gets going. Bron and Vondal's wounds are still a little sore, but they have almost entirely healed by the natural magic of the land. Very soon after getting back on the road, the dwarves reach the intersection with the Triboar trail and head east. The Triboar Trail isn't traveled nearly as much as the High Road. The trees are thicker on each side, and the road itself is narrower, sometimes only wide enough for a single wagon. The weather is mostly cloudy, but the clouds are fluffy and don't look like rain. The company has been on the Trail for about half a day when they come around a bend and spot two dead horses sprawled about fifty feet ahead of them, blocking the path. Each horse has several black-feathered arrows sticking out of it. The woods press close to the trail here, with a steep embankment and dense thickets on either side.

Einar reigns back the oxen well away from the bodies. The group will be in really bad shape if they lose either of the beasts. He looks around from his perch on the wagon to see what he can spot anywhere near the dead horses.

 Regardless of if he spots anything else, the presence of the black-feathered arrows demand utmost caution. He dons his shield before doing anything else.

Vondal has been a little out of it for most of the trip; but, perked up as he hears the oxen slow to a stop. "What's the matter Einar? Something-...." He trails off there after following Einar's gaze to the bodies. Vondal starts rubs his neck worriedly for a moment, and glances over to the others. After getting at least quick gauge of their reaction of at least Karl and Einar, Vondal heads to the back to grab his Shortbow and Quiver before joining the others at the front at the card with a readied bow.

Seeing the bodies, Nif readies his crossbow and eyes searching the trees for signs of a possible ambush.

(Perception: 4)

As the party leaves the camp, Karl packs the broken pieces of 'The Pacifier' into the wagon with a sigh and mutters to himself "Good club that, still the silver may be worth something." Seeing that Karl is now weaponless, Einar yells out to Karl "here - you might find this useful" and flips his Great Club to Karl. Karl turns and grabs the spinning club out of the air and swishes it around to test the balance. He smiles back at Einar and says "its perfect mate! Reckon I might call this one 'the Rattle' cos I can rattle some brains with it!".

As Einar reigns the oxen in, Karl hops down from the back of the wagon and picking up 'The Rattle' scans the surrounding forest. Continually scanning the forest, he then move cautiously up towards the dead horses to see if he can estimate roughly how long ago they were killed.

For the DM's eyes only:

"Uh oh..."

Bron looks around, taking out his spooky sword, which has regrown a few teeth. Wonderful! The more teeth, the... teethier?

Perception: 7

As Karl cautiously moves forward, the other four dwarves gather around the front of the wagon, peering about for any sign of danger. The four goblins seem to appear at once, all hiding among the trees, catching everyone's eye. The closest two appear to be clutching scimitars.

Nif will raise his crossbow and ready for when the red goblin runs from cover.

The first goblin (Blue) steps out of the trees and snarls, raising its shortbow. It fires off an arrow at Karl and then ducks back into the trees (Q6).

Shortbow Attack: 22; Damage: 3 piercing damage

The arrow catches Karl in the forearm as he lifts it to protect his vital organs.

The second goblin (Red) takes advantage of his teammate's attack to run out at Karl (G9), swinging his scimitar. Nif fires a shot at the advancing goblin, but the goblin is quicker than the dwarf anticipates, and the arrow sails through the space the goblin just vacated.

Scimitar Attack: 8; Damage: 8 slashing damage

This time, Karl is better prepared for the attack and he easily dodges the scimitar.

Einar draws his hatchet while rushing forward to strike at the goblin while it is focused on Karl, giving a loud yell as he does so.