"You know, while I'm quick to appreciate a clever trick, I fear the guards will know me as well. We're better off with a small lie and I too like what Pluchak has suggested. We must get word out about the goblins quickly too. Most likely they are not coming at the town tonight, but they still may and it is best if the guards are warned."
Taedric laughs, "Aye, we're not a group that blends in -- after all, Trumps' markings are rather distictive," he adds with a wink. His voice sobers as he continues, "However, we left legally during the day and what's more, we bring important tidings of goblins, and the unfortunate death of the herbalist -- I think we'd best go in immediately and honestly -- though skipping over the details of our errand, as Pluchak suggested."
Aidan grunts his assent.
We'll simply have to hold back the specifics from the guards, is all.
We're agreed. Let's off.
Pluchak shifted uncomfortably as they approached the gate. Were his friends expecting him to do the talking? Well, I guess he would find out when the guards hailed them. The half orc just worried that he would just as easily start a fight as get them in.
Taedric smiles affably and says, "If we're agreed then, shall I do the talking?"
Pluchak nodded. "I'm good with it", he said with a bit of relief. "I'll back you up if it looks like you need it, but I'm better at picking fights than friends, so go ahead and take the lead here."
I've better luck with the beasts and earth than with men and walls.
"Go ahead Taedric, I can lend weight to your words."
Taedric rides to the lead and waves a hand over himself, Prestidigitating himself and his mount clean.
"All right, then, let's go," he says, moving cleanly onto the road and then approaching the gate, conjuring dancing lights to ensure that he is clearly seen on his approach.
As he approaches he calls out, "Ho, Good Sirs! We return with grave tidings, and seek entry to share the news of what we've found"
"Please open up and see us. The news is truly urgent."
Pluchak thinks he sees someone he recognizes up there. "Kester, is that you? Let us in. We ran into some trouble."
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The guards scramble. If Orms or Garrick had been the ones to find them so inattentive... At the greeting of the party, the guards assume thier proper positions. There is low talk for the space of 5 seconds, and then one of the men shouts We sent for Garrick, though if I were you I would hope to not be bluffing. He is in a bad mood after what happened this evening!
Pluchaks eye is good. Kester yells Everywhere you go there seems to be trouble. Do you get the best of it, or did it get the best of you? The tone is not one of contempt or friendliness, but maybe more of nerves having been caught not at his post.
A few minutes pass, and they seem like hours and then you hear a voice, wwhose barking could only be Garrick, though what he said is lost to you. And then the gates open. And the man looks more surly than ever, and despite the hour like he was up. Whatever you have to say has best be worth getting me from my work.
Garrick is on foot, and has several guards men with him, though there are no other Rough Bloods at current juncture.
As the group enteres, he demands, Well, what is it?
Aidan steps into the light of the few dancing motes created by the Gnome's blood. His face is cast in a strange, even eerie shadow with the flat light falling across it, and behind him in the dark rumbles the low warning of a great cat.
The Ashen Staves may not be well known in the area, but the druid's casual familiarity with the white length of wood and the runes along it's length mark him clearly among their number, as does his somber and ever accusatory expression.
He draws a broken, battered, and altogether shoddy little sword from his belt, holes bored into the blade from hilt to tip, and lets the incriminating dogslicer fall into the hard-packed, frozen ground, where it quivers for a moment.
Close these gates behind us, and let thee harry us in the lee of these walls. Goblins and worse beckon from beyond the black of night.
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Garricks face changes and terribly so at Aidan's words. For a breif moment, it occurs to you that his tightly balled fist might actually be swung at the druid, but fighting back on that impulse he snarls, If you mean to give me orders you will have to step in line behind Orms.
Then, realizing that the druid is right, that the men are not shutting the gate he barks the same order at them, to close the gate.
Looking back at the party, as the gate closes he asks, What is it you have asked me here for? I already know there are goblins in the wood.
Taedric stands in the saddle to face Garrick head on, his expression grave but still friendly, "Indeed, I have no doubt that you do, a prudent fellow like yourself. What you do not know, I suspect, is that they have killed the herbalist and lay siege to her home, we think that they may be looking for something. What's more, they are attacking in numbers, being led and organized by hobgoblins, and making use of ogres. Beyond that, there are some who seem to have been tainted with some sort of dark magic....", he trails off for a moment, Let's not have them think we speak only fanciful tales..
He continues evenly, "When we broke the first group, they fled as one would expect -- but they returned later, in larger numbers.. All told we
killed just over a score of goblin and hobgoblins, one of their ogres and one of the dark, feral things -- but they were still just regrouping in the forests..."
With a storyteller's flourish, Taedric hits the moral of the story, "..and we fear that the herbalist's hut is but rehearsal for a larger attack on the town, and thought we'd best bring tidings as soon as possible."
Pluchak didn't want to harm Taedric's tale, but he felt there might be a little bit more convincing to be done, and so he gave it his best shot. Better keep it short though..."We have all heard the stories of the Goblin Wars, and it seems like the stories more than the light skirmishes we have had in the last couple of years.
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With this rush of information Garrick looks down to the ground for a moment, trying to form an opinion.
Looking up again, he starts to fire back rapid fire, Why were you going to see the Herbalist, do you even know her name? Did you provoke the goblins or did they attack you? What was thier full number? And of those how many did you kill? From what direction did they come? Do you know where their nest is? and then after a moment he registers what Abbas added, and asks, A rock? You do know the forest is full of 'em right? What was special about this one?
Taedric smiles and says, "We were actually just hoping to do business with her and purchase some of her wares -- but that's hardly the important bit of this news."
He then sobers and answers the questions as curtly as they were asked, his tongue accelerating as though he were speaking to another gnome, "I will say we provoked the first group of Goblins by trying to kill them before they burned down her house, but we were too late to save her life."
He says, "It's a bit of a blur, and, as I said, we broke their morale and they fled... twice... so I cannot say for sure what the total number was, especially since I can't say whether any of the goblins that attacked us in the second wave were the same as we saw earlier. The little beasts all look alike, and sadly, they seem to reproduce faster than I can run them down. Anyhow, assuming that each goblin we saw was unique, we saw at least a score of the little monsters all told, plus at least three hobgoblins, an Ogre, and that feral, dark thing. However, they were split up and trying to sneak around, and so I may have missed more than a few in my quick counts -- and, there were more of them watching, cheering and making noise from the woods -- in fact, we pressed hard to return with this news and were worried we might be attacked before being able to deliver it."
He stops, trying to remember the next question, then nods, "We didn't keep trophies, but between the two waves of the attacks, we killed an ogre, a dark, feral beast, two hobgoblins, and at least a dozen goblins some of whom were mounted on wolves and spiders. They came from all around, but the mounted one I chased down was fleeing to the east -- that may be where their nest lies, though I do not know, we did not see it, and thought returning with this information and warning the town more important than trying to root out something we didn't know how to find."
He smiles at Abbas and says, "The herbalist had a ring of special stones protecting her home -- they took one of them, breaking the ring. We don't know, exactly, what's special about it or why, but it did seem important enough to report."
Finally, he sighs, and raises his waterskin to his mouth, "What else would you like to know?"
Suffice to say 'twas harrowing indeed. A long road it has been, and much trouble. Nearly a life, more than once, it may have taken to bring this news, so I must insist to ask that a healer be brought whilst we converse.
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Actually, there is something I would like to know. The voice comes from the shadows and is a almost a growl filled with menace. But I think it is Garrick who should answer me on this. Why when you are as you say, "all the law this town needs" allowing these rabble to break curfew?
Most nights we might say this is the simple incompetance of a backwater sherriff. But tonight is not an ordinary night it is it? Tonight 2 more young women have been abducted and those that took them were observed leaving the town with the women and now some hours later these, he looks at you like you are an insect he would sooner squash, come in and nary a question for them. But wait, they do have a rusty goblin weapon, they must be on the side of law right? PATHETIC! You will detain and question them at once, or you shall be detained with them. Orms has come into the light and with him some half dozen mailed Hell Knights.
Garrick looks at the ground for a moment and when he looks up again his eyes almost shine with anger. Orms, for all your talk you cannot see that these are deputies, duly appointed by me and acting fully within the law. They have my legal permission to be out on any street at any time with or without your say permissions. If you were as vigilant in the protection of this town as you are in your own authority, I believe 2 more women would be asleep in thier beds this evening. You did tell me that those abductions were part of the reason you were here, no?
The men glare at each other and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. This time it is Orms who backs down, and hisses, I will watch you and them and if either of you step out of line there will be an example made like that will make the hills shudder. With this he stalks off.
Before you have a chance to say anything, Garrick says in a low voice full of menace, If any of you fuc4 me on this point, Orms is the least of your worries. Get off the street, tomorrow you will show me what you did and where and besides that you owe me a favor. Off the street NOW!
Aidan obliges the fuming man by stepping nimbly into the blackness, seeking swiftly the comfortable solitude of a less hostile locale. He finds his place amongst the beasts stabled for the night, and waits eagerly for sunrise, his eyes drooping low.
Pluchak's blood was racing at being involved in a brawl between the two factions. He hardly heard anything but the shouting and he felt his tusks begin to grow. His blood was pounding in his ears and he heard an inhuman roar. And all of a sudden, they were leaving. The roar diminished into the distance and people dispersed. Someone said something to him, but he paid it no mind, and in a daze, suddenly tired, he made his way back to his bed.
Taedric snarls, yet the gnome manages to bite his tongue, Curfew applies within the town, and not outside it, and we just returned. We have every intention of getting off the streets, but thought that this news was urgent....
He shakes his head and watches Orms leave, then back to Garrick, forcing his voice to remain calm, "We had every intention of following curfew, Sheriff. As I said, we just thought this was news that was best given sooner rather than later, and that we were doing you, and this town a favor. In an case, good evening."
He turns and begins to ride toward the tower, patting Trumps and trying to calm himself.
Seneca listens to the conversation. Different laws. Different opinions. I'm just keeping my head down for now. When Garrick dismisses the group, he follows Taedric to the tower.
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Abbas smiles at the shouting men, oblivious to the power and contest between them. When the struggle between the arrogant Orms and angry Garrick has finished, he watches the Hellknight stalk off.
As Garrick orders the group around, and everyone starts to disperse, Abbas waits. He leans on the herbalist's staff, tired as Pluchak, his eyes dark and sunken by the long night.
No one should be treated bad.
"Thank you Sir. Sorry I don't know more.......about the stone. I will be good."
He follows the others towards the tower.
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Abbas almost staggers onto the wooden porch out front of the taverna beside Yancar's store. He bangs on the door and it eventually opens to show a fat man in his night clothes, he raises a night lamp and smiles.
"Abbas - good to see you again. These your friends? Good. Perhaps they would like to join you for omelettes and the like. I'll have black coffee ready too you look like you need some!"
As everyone's eyes become accustomed to the lamplight, the strange dark circular tattoo around his eyes, like three rings is much more noticeable.
Abbas takes a moment to address the party before he heads inside, "Yancar's wife cooks good so they say." He shrugs and starts to say more but the tiredness overwhelms him. Good night is all he can manage before he goes to bed.
Aidan yawns and stretches in the stable, spooking the stableboy much more than the horse he leaned against.
This is good, fresh hay. A good job, boy, He notes, passing the startled youth a silver.
The sun has risen farther into the sky than Aidan would like, but it was, after all, a long night. He sits crosslegged outside on the grass between the stables and fence, raising his face to the sun.
Erastil, father, bring this place peace and the guidance of your ideals. Let there be tranquility, plenty, and calm days.
Tkurzhan licks his face, interrupting his prayers.
I agree, breakfast.
Aidan stands, cracking his back, and leans on his staff as he strides with renewed vigor to find something worthy of a meal.
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Morning finds Yancar full of gossip and chatter. While his wife cooks (the rumors of her cooking are not exaggerated) Yancar tells you, "Two more last night? Two! And where where the Hellknights? Off comparing the size of their" he clears his throat and lowers his voice, as if he expects reproof, but the blond keeps to her tasks and says nothing "with Slash. And Fars bouncer? He died last night from the beating Orms gave him. Fars himself? Who can say but he has not woken up yet. It's bad here. And you, where have you been? What have you seen?"
After sufficient rest, Pluchak makes his way back to Yancar's shop to meet up with whomever from the group might make it there. His mind was still swimming with distant roars and strange voices in his head. Hoping to clear out the strange effects in his mind a mightily portioned breakfast called to him. Sitting down with a mountain of food he listened intently to whatever was being said, and when he was addressed, pointed to his own mouth if it was full and filled it if it was less than half full.
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Abbas comes out of the back room through a thin curtain. He walks through the open store and enters the taverna. The wet haired warrior takes a wooden table near the front so he can look out across the street. His face still has the crease lines from a pillow, showing how hard he slept.
"Hullo, Pluchak."
He waits for the clay bowl of potato and cheese omelette and cold bean stew then after a quick prayer starts to eat. A thin greyhound curls next to his chair and Abbas pats the spotted dog occasionally.
As Yancar walks in and out with the food and drink, he keeps an eye on his daughter as she sweeps the storedust out onto the wooden porch. She is humming happily to herself, the work seems a distraction for her thoughts.
"Gehenn! stop mooning over that boy and start sweeping properly!"
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Abbas keeps his head down and spoons the food in. He has a good appetite for a man, but nowhere near the work of a trencherman like Pluchak.
Yancar comes and sits with the half-orc, knowing how uncommunicative Abbas can be he directs most of his conversation to the sorcerer.
"So you both return in the middle of the night, looking like you have fought your way home. Goblins again would that be?" The large merchant asks with professional interest. He points into the store and wags a finger at the men, "I have several wagons on the way back from Druma, someof them belong to your father, Abbas. Such carpets and other wares are particularly precious when some are already paid for. So what attacked you all?"
Pluchak finally finishes his mouthful and says quickly before another large scoop makes it in. "Hello Abbas and goblins." The latter part of that was directed toward Yancar, and as he continues to eat, he motions strangely, but it could be inferred that he is appreciative of the food.
Aidan steps onto the porch, knocking at the door delicately with his staff.
Abbas, that you in there?
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Abbas points at a chair opposite while finishing the sausage. He grins around the meat and keeps eating his eyes now fixed on Pluchak.
Luckily Yancar is there to help and he pulls out a chair. "Yes sir. Join us. your friend here just mentioned that goblins were the source of your troubles yesterday. I'd like to know more perhaps you could help. These two seem to treat words like money and rarely give handouts. In return I'll cook for you whatever you wish. The truth is my trade thrives on such information."
Aidan chuckles. Aye, a bird told me you might be here. Reliable, that robin is...
He gestures outside, to where Tkurzhan is kneading the grass, sprawled out in the yard.
I'm afraid my brother may simply need a good butcher, or perhaps any scraps of meat ye've on hand. As for me, I'll be quite satisfied with eggs, however you feel they be made best.
He leans his staff against a wall, adjusting his shirt, and draws the broken pipe from his belt, beginning to shape the wood back into a workable form.
As he works, he begins to tell the state of the road- ruts, treefalls, dips, and tries surreptitiously to get a read on this innkeeper's motives. After all, one can never be too careful who one talks to when hellknights are about.
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Yancar listens to Aidan for a minute or 2, and then waves his hand dismissively, "You are worse than they are. They tell no story, and you do not know what a story is. This is the last time you drain my larder with nothing to offer." His tone is hard to read, somewhere between playfulness and actual frustration. In the end though, his interest is not in people, but in what was seen, and trying to guess it's proximity to trade routes, and the impact on his wallet. It seems to you that a Hellknight might be focused on other things.
Yancar gets up and starts to walk away, muttering "He tells me about fallen trees. In the forest! Some juicy news that!"
Aidan smiles. Always the way with you city-folk; no patience. You must see the forest before the trees, friend.
He adjusts his staff, wiping his mouth. The distant hum of purring is faint from outside.
But I will cut to what I assume interests you, nonetheless. Goblins are upon the road proper in daylight, wandering about and raiding. I doubt it's safe beyond sight of town, even on the roads.
Pluchak nodded vigorously to add credence to the story. By the hells he was hungry though, He managed to get a few swallows of water in as well, but it was mostly downing whatever solids he had in front of him. He hadn't been this hungry since his last growth spurt, a fact which made him pause for a moment. But it didn't stop him for long. He was already 17 hands tall at the shoulder when he didn't double his height. How tall would he get?
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Abbas takes a break then gives up when he feels his stomach groaning. He points at Yancar when he is about to leave and tries to help.
"What about the big things! The ogre. The woman's stone. The net."
He drops back to his drink of tea and keeps at it, sipping slowly to ease his bellyache. He looks outside to see if Taedric and Seneca have risen.
"Got to tell the Lady things. Magic staff too."
Taedric is led into the room by the smells of food, walking next to his furry companion.
Seeing the others, he blushes slightly at his tardiness, but then offers a friendly greeting, "Good morrow, gentlemen."
"Oh, good, sausages. Trumps loves them."
He serves himself a small plate, then takes another loaded with egg, ham and sausage, placing the latter on the floor next to him before he takes a seat.
He takes a large bite of a pastry and a deep draw from the warm mug of blackroot tea, then offers, "Sorry to just jump in to a conversation I missed most of, but I also wonder about the stone. Surely the goblins took it for a reason -- and considering the herbalist was able to stay safe for so long before now, I wonder if the stone had something to do with that, also."
As he speaks, he uses a few strips of to hold together some cheese and a biscuit, and takes a large bite of woven concoction before adding, "And, obviously, as someone who remembers the horrors of the last war, I can't say I'm happy to see goblins in numbers.... and especially not organized."