Celtra tries to remain stone faced at Perne's comment but the briefest smile crepted up the corner of her lips. In response to ger question she states. "I shall go with Taman, but I doubt I will be doing much speaking and then yes a view of the fortifications would be appreciated."
Taman, Fulcra, and Celtra are led to the Command Tent; Perne Salhana pokes her head in through the flap for a moment before pulling it aside and waving you through.
Inside are the trappings of a king of mud. The tent is decorated as you imagine a lord’s war room might be; a heavy leather chair half sunk in the mud rests before a large, lacquered table of wood, its clawed feet sunk deep in the ground. Once-fine rugs litter the ground, kicked out of the way as soldiers have paced in and out of the tent. Mud-spattered, framed paintings hang from the tent poles where possible; scenes of glorious battle and heroic exploits are all that can be seen. The table is covered with maps and stacks of papers displaying lists and lists and lists of numbers and words.
A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper, short cropped hair sits in the leather chair; his forehead gripped in his hand as he pores over the maps and reports. You stand silently for several minutes before he looks up from his muttered musings of battle lines and troop tactics.
“Civilians?” he says. “I see. You’ve brought messages,” he gestures to the unopened scrolls, “and no fresh supplies…” He hisses in frustration. “We’re here to help these people,” he gestures all around him, “and they give us nothing! NOTHING!” he shouts, and swipes a stack of reports, pages fluttering everywhere. “My men are ill, we are attacked ceaselessly by dinosaurs and undead…,” he slumps back into the chair, defeated by his own message.
“Apologies, you are…?” he asks. You furnish scant details and request hospitality. “Yes, yes, of course, the messages, I’ll get to those…” he says, gesturing to the rolled missives sealed still with wax. “Of course, you are welcome to our hospitality, though I’m afraid your weapons will need to be stored at the gatehouse. Captain Salhana, ensure they are quarted away from Bilwatal’s people, there should be room in one of the towers. Rygor should be more than willing to help.”
He looks down at his paperwork and sighs again. “I have much to do… this jungle is far different from fighting hordes of orcs or dealing with bandits… it is a most… frustrating enemy.” You leave him staring despondently at the maps and reports and move back outside, where a steady rain has begun.
Outside, you see Bryn moving about the Field Hospital tent, watching the water run off the canvas and run back under the tent in small streams of water. She moves her hands and some of the mud shifts to form a small patch of rampart; Bryn moves along the edge of the tent, shoring up her rampart and extending it such that the water runs away from the tent, not under it. When she’s done, she rushes back inside.
You follow Captain Salhana to the gatehouse, where your weapons are removed, and then the northeast tower, and deposit your trappings in the damp inside. Celtra is shown the ‘fortifications’, which a drunk goblin could have erected better. Whoever dug the latrines neglected to account for drainage; you realize that the nearby puddles are urine, and run throughout the camp. When asked about it, Perne simply says, “I’d refer you to the Commander… if I thought it would make a difference.”
At evening a meal is prepared and you take part, though you’re unsure if you’d have gotten more nutrition from your iron rations as opposed to the watery gruel the soldiers serve up; you catch up with Bryn, who’s been exhausting herself helping the healers; one Sister Cyas runs the Field Hospital, and actually asked Bryn to help heal her healers so that they could administer aid to the soldiers more efficiently. Everyone here seems to have a malady of one type or another.
Though damp, the inside of the tower is indeed secure, and you feel comfortable resting and letting down your guard [Long Rest attained]. However, at what must be four bells past midnight, you’re all awakened by one of Sister Cyas’ acolyte healers, whose silhouette is seen at the door. The slight man of Chultan heritage knocks on the wall to get your attention.
“A thousand apologies,” he begins. “The messenger…Silvertusk? She is hysterical and demands to see whoever brought her here. Would one of you be able to calm her?”
Fulcra, seemingly itchy all over and keen to move away from the horrid food (which he spiced up with some nice flavors, but still couldn't hide the gruel consistency), and seemingly keeping his distance from any of the soldiers here, hops to his feet, "Yup yup yup. Let's go."
To Taman he surreptitiously points a finger, "How badly do you need a nights rest? I don't think we should sleep here. This place is a nest of disease. I'm more comfortable sleeping in the jungle with Azaka than here...."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Celtra awakes with a startle as the Acolyte wakes them. Her hand darts for the sword at her hip and she is momentarily surprised when it wasn't there. Then after a moment she recalled that it was given up. With a grunt she stands and spits out, "leta get on with it then," and marches after.
Bryn would wake up with a grunt, rub her eyes and look blankly at the acolyte until the news he shared actually sinks in. The Druid would jump up to her feat and dash out the tent to Undril.
The four of you follow the acolyte to the Field Hospital; those of you who haven’t been this close to it before begin to hear moans and cries from within, along with the hushed tones of healers calming the ill. Kicking the tent flap aside, you see rows of beds and dirty linens, and a dozen warriors lying in the beds. Six acolytes rush exhaustedly from patient to patient, peppering their leader with questions, even at this hour; clearly a priestess, their leader deals with complaints, questions, and suggestions all while passing out supplies and administering aid despite also appearing exhausted.
The leader approaches Bryn and leads her to where you all see Undril Silvertusk lying on a bed. She looks far better than before, and rises to a sitting position almost without help as you approach.
“Sister Cyas,” the lead healer introduces herself quickly to the rest of you and exchanges names with you. She motions to Undril and Bryn. “She clearly needs to speak to you,” Sister Cyas says, arms akimbo, appearing annoyed. She looks to the back of the tent where one of the healers nurses a swollen eye.
“Damn right,” curses Undril, getting to her feet. The healers do not move to restrain her, quickly getting out of her way. She stumbles into Bryn’s arms. “Outside.”
You half drag Undril outside; she looks around as if for the first time, checking tower guard positions and the gatehouse.
She looks to Fulcra and Bryn. “The messages. Where are the messages?”
You explain that the last place you saw them was on the Commander’s table.
“Torm’s gauntlet!” she cusses. “One of those messages was not to be seen by the Commander…”
Guards from a nearby tower seem to have been interested in your movements. You see them studying you before sticking their heads into Ord’s (the dwarf) command tent (not the commander’s tent). Captain Salhana emerges quickly, hair pulled back for sleep, in her civilian, sleeping clothes, and heads straight for you.
“Why you deliver messages before she wake?” Bryn gives Fulcra a punch on the shoulder. She’d look to Undril, “We now must somehow get before open?” She glances back to Fulcra.
"And how is this our problem?" Taman asks with a raised eyebrow. "You are the messenger, go and retrieve your messages." He turns to leave, this person and her problems not part of their mission. Glancing to the others with him. "Are we ready to head out? I would prefer not to leave Cimeri out there with Azaka any longer than absolutely necessary..."
Fulcra looks to Undril, “First off, you’re welcome. Good news. You’ll live. You can now enjoy a lovely life of....being alive and not dead in the jungle. For a few more days AT LEAST. Secondly, ya, what he said.” Fulcra points to Taman. “Really not our problem.” Fulcra nods to Taman, “Lets head.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Perne Salhana steps forward. "I happened to overhear the end of your conversation. I'm afraid the gates do not open during night hours... and the Commander would like to discuss an opportunity with you this morning. I suggest you wait for sunrise in the northeast tower."
Undril coughs as Salhana departs. "It's your problem now. Someone handed over those messages. I appreciate your help, but we all might be in an unfortunate situation very soon. I'm in no condition to retrieve those messages, if they're still unread. Since we all appear to be in this together," she begins in a fast whisper, "several anonymous messages have come to the Order of the Gauntlet's higher echelons, stating that Commander Niles Breakbone is not fit to command." She lets that sink in. "I was ordered to bring 'assistance', and two messages. The first message was to be delivered to the Commander; it states that I am here to audit the camp and assess 'needs' and that the Commander is to assist me in these endeavors. The second message was for one Perle Salhana, stating that, if I so deem, Commander Breakbone is to return to Baldur's Gate for reassignment, and that she and I will co-govern the camp." She pauses, and coughs again. "You can see how, in the hands of one who might be 'imbalanced', these messages could start a firestorm..."
Responding to the Message... "Really not our problem, but, if they aren't going to let us out, then it seems like it might become our problem..."
Taman sighed and wished Cimeri was with them. He was not good at sneaking around, and missed the tifling on a personal level, since he saw her as a favorite niece.
"The commander seemed fairly busy last night." Taman offered as he looked to the others. "Maybe the message remains unread." He personally doubted it, since, if it were him, the message would have been first priority. He hoped this commander was not as diligent as himself though. When the captain was called back, Taman went quiet, waiting for her to approach.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
"Well, isn't that lovely, "Celtra hisses. "I want my blade back... now. Other at least one serviceable to allow me to get mine back." She then casts her eyes about trying to gage any potential soldiers around as a threat.
Unfortunately the earlier events are coloring your view of the guards. They all look like a bunch of shitbirds as far as you're concerned...
Undril swallows, then follows Fulcra's suggestion. Hearing the commotion, Sister Cyas, emerges from the Field Hospital. Captain Salhana turns to her, "You'd better hear this too."
"Anonymous my arse. We," she nods at Sister Cyas, "both sent those messages. This is a disaster. Commander Breakbone got half my men killed at Camp Righteous; the rest are waiting to die here."
She begins walking to the gatehouse, "Ord, the dwarf... we'll need him on our side. I don't know where he stands. Breakbone has brought in his own conscripts, some natives under his personal friend. They billet in one of the towers. They'll side with him." She quiets as you get to the gatehouse. "Soldier," she says to the guard on duty, "look sharp. We have word of a possible attack. I need to arm this one," she says, nodding at Celtra. The guard retrieves Celtra's sword and presents it.
"You gonna show her how to use it?" he drawls with a guffaw.
"Watch your tongue before you lose it," Salhana replies.
"You have our support," Sister Cyas says quietly. "Let us know what to do."
"I'm thinking on it," Salhana replies. She turns back to the four of you. "You've done enough here, and gone through enough of this. If you don't care to see how this ends, say the word and I'll get you out. If you'd rather stick around and help, I'd appreciate it, but I understand if you've seen enough of the Order of the Gauntlet for now. What say you?"
"We have our mission." Taman says, glancing to the others. "But I think we need to see this through as well. We may end up needing a safe harbor here again, and I would like to help out here to keep it available for us in the future." He nods to the others then. "If you would rather leave, then so be it, but at least consider this request for aid."
(I assume everyone else has their gear and weapons as well...)
Fulcra, "Well, you know what they say. Rebellion to Tyrants is obedience to morality. Let's go see if we can sneak that message away, and if he's read it, well...then we'll just deal with that."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer? Class.
Celtra tries to remain stone faced at Perne's comment but the briefest smile crepted up the corner of her lips. In response to ger question she states. "I shall go with Taman, but I doubt I will be doing much speaking and then yes a view of the fortifications would be appreciated."
Taman, Fulcra, and Celtra are led to the Command Tent; Perne Salhana pokes her head in through the flap for a moment before pulling it aside and waving you through.
Inside are the trappings of a king of mud. The tent is decorated as you imagine a lord’s war room might be; a heavy leather chair half sunk in the mud rests before a large, lacquered table of wood, its clawed feet sunk deep in the ground. Once-fine rugs litter the ground, kicked out of the way as soldiers have paced in and out of the tent. Mud-spattered, framed paintings hang from the tent poles where possible; scenes of glorious battle and heroic exploits are all that can be seen. The table is covered with maps and stacks of papers displaying lists and lists and lists of numbers and words.
A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper, short cropped hair sits in the leather chair; his forehead gripped in his hand as he pores over the maps and reports. You stand silently for several minutes before he looks up from his muttered musings of battle lines and troop tactics.
“Civilians?” he says. “I see. You’ve brought messages,” he gestures to the unopened scrolls, “and no fresh supplies…” He hisses in frustration. “We’re here to help these people,” he gestures all around him, “and they give us nothing! NOTHING!” he shouts, and swipes a stack of reports, pages fluttering everywhere. “My men are ill, we are attacked ceaselessly by dinosaurs and undead…,” he slumps back into the chair, defeated by his own message.
“Apologies, you are…?” he asks. You furnish scant details and request hospitality. “Yes, yes, of course, the messages, I’ll get to those…” he says, gesturing to the rolled missives sealed still with wax. “Of course, you are welcome to our hospitality, though I’m afraid your weapons will need to be stored at the gatehouse. Captain Salhana, ensure they are quarted away from Bilwatal’s people, there should be room in one of the towers. Rygor should be more than willing to help.”
He looks down at his paperwork and sighs again. “I have much to do… this jungle is far different from fighting hordes of orcs or dealing with bandits… it is a most… frustrating enemy.” You leave him staring despondently at the maps and reports and move back outside, where a steady rain has begun.
Outside, you see Bryn moving about the Field Hospital tent, watching the water run off the canvas and run back under the tent in small streams of water. She moves her hands and some of the mud shifts to form a small patch of rampart; Bryn moves along the edge of the tent, shoring up her rampart and extending it such that the water runs away from the tent, not under it. When she’s done, she rushes back inside.
You follow Captain Salhana to the gatehouse, where your weapons are removed, and then the northeast tower, and deposit your trappings in the damp inside. Celtra is shown the ‘fortifications’, which a drunk goblin could have erected better. Whoever dug the latrines neglected to account for drainage; you realize that the nearby puddles are urine, and run throughout the camp. When asked about it, Perne simply says, “I’d refer you to the Commander… if I thought it would make a difference.”
At evening a meal is prepared and you take part, though you’re unsure if you’d have gotten more nutrition from your iron rations as opposed to the watery gruel the soldiers serve up; you catch up with Bryn, who’s been exhausting herself helping the healers; one Sister Cyas runs the Field Hospital, and actually asked Bryn to help heal her healers so that they could administer aid to the soldiers more efficiently. Everyone here seems to have a malady of one type or another.
Though damp, the inside of the tower is indeed secure, and you feel comfortable resting and letting down your guard [Long Rest attained]. However, at what must be four bells past midnight, you’re all awakened by one of Sister Cyas’ acolyte healers, whose silhouette is seen at the door. The slight man of Chultan heritage knocks on the wall to get your attention.
“A thousand apologies,” he begins. “The messenger…Silvertusk? She is hysterical and demands to see whoever brought her here. Would one of you be able to calm her?”
Fulcra, seemingly itchy all over and keen to move away from the horrid food (which he spiced up with some nice flavors, but still couldn't hide the gruel consistency), and seemingly keeping his distance from any of the soldiers here, hops to his feet, "Yup yup yup. Let's go."
To Taman he surreptitiously points a finger, "How badly do you need a nights rest? I don't think we should sleep here. This place is a nest of disease. I'm more comfortable sleeping in the jungle with Azaka than here...."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
[its 4am, so you got the LR at this point]
Celtra awakes with a startle as the Acolyte wakes them. Her hand darts for the sword at her hip and she is momentarily surprised when it wasn't there. Then after a moment she recalled that it was given up. With a grunt she stands and spits out, "leta get on with it then," and marches after.
Taman responds... "Just as well get going I suppose..." Through the Message.
Taman gets up and collects his gear, heading after the others.
(OOC: Whoops!! Me no know how read good. Ok, cool! Let's get the F out of here!)
Fulcra picks up his bags, packs quickly, then follows Taman out of the tower.
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Bryn would wake up with a grunt, rub her eyes and look blankly at the acolyte until the news he shared actually sinks in. The Druid would jump up to her feat and dash out the tent to Undril.
just an unstable unicorn.
The four of you follow the acolyte to the Field Hospital; those of you who haven’t been this close to it before begin to hear moans and cries from within, along with the hushed tones of healers calming the ill. Kicking the tent flap aside, you see rows of beds and dirty linens, and a dozen warriors lying in the beds. Six acolytes rush exhaustedly from patient to patient, peppering their leader with questions, even at this hour; clearly a priestess, their leader deals with complaints, questions, and suggestions all while passing out supplies and administering aid despite also appearing exhausted.
The leader approaches Bryn and leads her to where you all see Undril Silvertusk lying on a bed. She looks far better than before, and rises to a sitting position almost without help as you approach.
“Sister Cyas,” the lead healer introduces herself quickly to the rest of you and exchanges names with you. She motions to Undril and Bryn. “She clearly needs to speak to you,” Sister Cyas says, arms akimbo, appearing annoyed. She looks to the back of the tent where one of the healers nurses a swollen eye.
“Damn right,” curses Undril, getting to her feet. The healers do not move to restrain her, quickly getting out of her way. She stumbles into Bryn’s arms. “Outside.”
You half drag Undril outside; she looks around as if for the first time, checking tower guard positions and the gatehouse.
She looks to Fulcra and Bryn. “The messages. Where are the messages?”
You explain that the last place you saw them was on the Commander’s table.
“Torm’s gauntlet!” she cusses. “One of those messages was not to be seen by the Commander…”
Guards from a nearby tower seem to have been interested in your movements. You see them studying you before sticking their heads into Ord’s (the dwarf) command tent (not the commander’s tent). Captain Salhana emerges quickly, hair pulled back for sleep, in her civilian, sleeping clothes, and heads straight for you.
“Why you deliver messages before she wake?” Bryn gives Fulcra a punch on the shoulder. She’d look to Undril, “We now must somehow get before open?” She glances back to Fulcra.
just an unstable unicorn.
"And how is this our problem?" Taman asks with a raised eyebrow. "You are the messenger, go and retrieve your messages." He turns to leave, this person and her problems not part of their mission. Glancing to the others with him. "Are we ready to head out? I would prefer not to leave Cimeri out there with Azaka any longer than absolutely necessary..."
Fulcra looks to Undril, “First off, you’re welcome. Good news. You’ll live. You can now enjoy a lovely life of....being alive and not dead in the jungle. For a few more days AT LEAST. Secondly, ya, what he said.” Fulcra points to Taman. “Really not our problem.”
Fulcra nods to Taman, “Lets head.”
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Perne Salhana steps forward. "I happened to overhear the end of your conversation. I'm afraid the gates do not open during night hours... and the Commander would like to discuss an opportunity with you this morning. I suggest you wait for sunrise in the northeast tower."
Undril coughs as Salhana departs. "It's your problem now. Someone handed over those messages. I appreciate your help, but we all might be in an unfortunate situation very soon. I'm in no condition to retrieve those messages, if they're still unread. Since we all appear to be in this together," she begins in a fast whisper, "several anonymous messages have come to the Order of the Gauntlet's higher echelons, stating that Commander Niles Breakbone is not fit to command." She lets that sink in. "I was ordered to bring 'assistance', and two messages. The first message was to be delivered to the Commander; it states that I am here to audit the camp and assess 'needs' and that the Commander is to assist me in these endeavors. The second message was for one Perle Salhana, stating that, if I so deem, Commander Breakbone is to return to Baldur's Gate for reassignment, and that she and I will co-govern the camp." She pauses, and coughs again. "You can see how, in the hands of one who might be 'imbalanced', these messages could start a firestorm..."
Fulcra, “Salhana must be informed and be ready to support us should he have already read the message and order our arrest or worse.”
Fulcra waves back Salhana, “You should talk to Undril here.”
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
Responding to the Message... "Really not our problem, but, if they aren't going to let us out, then it seems like it might become our problem..."
Taman sighed and wished Cimeri was with them. He was not good at sneaking around, and missed the tifling on a personal level, since he saw her as a favorite niece.
"The commander seemed fairly busy last night." Taman offered as he looked to the others. "Maybe the message remains unread." He personally doubted it, since, if it were him, the message would have been first priority. He hoped this commander was not as diligent as himself though. When the captain was called back, Taman went quiet, waiting for her to approach.
"Well, isn't that lovely, "Celtra hisses. "I want my blade back... now. Other at least one serviceable to allow me to get mine back." She then casts her eyes about trying to gage any potential soldiers around as a threat.
Insight 8
@Celtra:
Unfortunately the earlier events are coloring your view of the guards. They all look like a bunch of shitbirds as far as you're concerned...
Undril swallows, then follows Fulcra's suggestion. Hearing the commotion, Sister Cyas, emerges from the Field Hospital. Captain Salhana turns to her, "You'd better hear this too."
"Anonymous my arse. We," she nods at Sister Cyas, "both sent those messages. This is a disaster. Commander Breakbone got half my men killed at Camp Righteous; the rest are waiting to die here."
She begins walking to the gatehouse, "Ord, the dwarf... we'll need him on our side. I don't know where he stands. Breakbone has brought in his own conscripts, some natives under his personal friend. They billet in one of the towers. They'll side with him." She quiets as you get to the gatehouse. "Soldier," she says to the guard on duty, "look sharp. We have word of a possible attack. I need to arm this one," she says, nodding at Celtra. The guard retrieves Celtra's sword and presents it.
"You gonna show her how to use it?" he drawls with a guffaw.
"Watch your tongue before you lose it," Salhana replies.
"You have our support," Sister Cyas says quietly. "Let us know what to do."
"I'm thinking on it," Salhana replies. She turns back to the four of you. "You've done enough here, and gone through enough of this. If you don't care to see how this ends, say the word and I'll get you out. If you'd rather stick around and help, I'd appreciate it, but I understand if you've seen enough of the Order of the Gauntlet for now. What say you?"
"We have our mission." Taman says, glancing to the others. "But I think we need to see this through as well. We may end up needing a safe harbor here again, and I would like to help out here to keep it available for us in the future." He nods to the others then. "If you would rather leave, then so be it, but at least consider this request for aid."
(I assume everyone else has their gear and weapons as well...)
Fulcra, "Well, you know what they say. Rebellion to Tyrants is obedience to morality. Let's go see if we can sneak that message away, and if he's read it, well...then we'll just deal with that."
What's the difference between a Wizard and a Sorcerer?
Class.
OOC: Cimeri very much would love to help out - alas, can not be done, but in case you worry, she is not missing out on RP.
Meili Liang Lvl 5 Monk
Dice