Where the wind blows (Chap III) — Legacy Forums

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#41

Bluffing, got it. And yes, they count as evil. Bonus should be good. Will get back to you on that shortly. WOOT!

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#42

Lord, I am not worthy of your touch, but say the word, and I shall be made whole once more in your Light. As the touch of the Creator's hand caressed his wounds, and mortal ones cleared the path for the Lord of All, the twitching of the fallen knight eased, and once more, his lips began to move, though silently, barely visible through the slot of his helm, while bloody hands swiftly etched the sigil of Trigu into the ground in their own life's humors. It was slowly that he arose to a crouch, making the smallest of gestures back into the rocks to the Priest. They would need to flee into them, and use terrain to their advantage, rather than try to fight these beasts in the open. And even as he gestured, his lips continued to move, blood rolling from them beneath his helm, a dreadful sight indeed.

And then, the sound began once more. Weak, and hoarse at first, but increasingly strong and exultant. Into my hands I give mine life, my Lord, my immortal soul. Let them be used for thy glory, as it was and should have always been. And so sang out that song of dreadful promise and exultation once more, redoubled in its zeal by the warrior's brush with death, while he rose to a ready crouch, his body twisted to pounce, one hand wrapped tightly around the leather bound hilt of his sword, the other low and touching the small puddle of blood-mud beneath him.

For the briefest of moments, the fallen paladin's voice became still, before speaking in its quiet, rough tone. "It is very simple, bandit. It is praise to the Greatest for His power to do whatever He pleases to His enemies." A pause, a thought. "The gold is in my wallet. Had you asked for it, we would have provided it."

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#43

Brown sneered at the crouching warrior:

"Sure, that's what they all say." He sighed. "But let no one say that I'm unreasonable. I'll tell ya' what; make me an offer. If it's good enough, I might even let you walk away from here alive."

Almost as an afterthought, Borgradoc looked at the verbeeg standing next to him; "You hear that, Ubu? Stay!"

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#44

Bluff successful on 2 of 6 Verbeeg. Also, Adan's blood-spewing diurge and now, calm, grim, demeanor, helps a bit too. 2 of six look as if they are seriously contemplating the wisdom of this attack.

If Borgradoc sensed some uneasiness behind him, he did not show it. The one Brown Borgradoc had called Ubu, the Verbeeg with the chain and collar, had a fanatical look upon his face, a dog, leering at Adan, licking his bulbous lips, and merely waiting for his master's word to attack.

Mrok and Yoord stood steady as well, looking down on Tristan and inching closer, at their leader's previous command and taking measure of the man. Quiet Lame-Face and Dumjakk however who were near the horses, both still holding their crossbows aloft, looked like they wanted to be anywhere but here. They truly seemed as if they feared the priests.

Tritsna and Adan meanwhile, breathing heavily and staring defiantly up at their attackers, sensed something was off almost suddenly. Even in his dread state, blood congealing along the sides of his armor in the crisp morning air, Adan was confused. The voice of Brown Borgradoc was somewhat soothing. Bizarre and impossible! Adan thought, despite himself, he almost respected and admired the mishappen giant! How could he feel this way, if not because of some foul sorcery? Adan's mind raced as he stood stoically. Tristan likewise, was not betraying any emotion.

For a moment, silence lingered, like a thick, black, fly in honey.

A drizzle came down from the heavens.

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#45

"The saddlebag of the black stallion. You'll find a purse of silk, along with a flat case. The purse is yours." Adan's voice now was perfectly level, almost completely emotionless, even as he glances downwards, to where his hand was still wrapped around the handle of his blade. Trigu, protect your followers. A moment's thought, and a single finger left the sword, while the other hand withdrew the ring from it, flipping it into the dirt at the giant's feet. "That, too." Meanwhile, a concious effort would wrap his fingers tighter around the blade, still coiled to strike if necessary.

The ring itself? A golden signet, bearing the mark of a shattered sword. Inside, etched in a delicate script, 'Adan, Verwandewürger.'

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#46

The verbeeg grinned, his eyes darting about the area, as if searching for anything else of value.

"Dumjakk, grab the purse. Make sure the gold's actually in it. Mrok - you get the ring." The victorious grin faded slightly as Brown pointed his crossbow at the swordsman. "I'm willing to let you keep it, but I'd really recommend that you either put that sword down or back away from the ring. I wouldn't want Mrok to feel worried, y'see?" Yet, even as he kept the weapon aimed at the warrior, his eyes shifted back and forth, from his target to the horses, and back. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, before speaking once more: "We're not so bad. Hunh, we'll even let you keep your horses, on one condition - after we leave, you two forget all about us."

Borgradoc turned his attention back to the swordsman. "So, are you going to be keeping those horses, or are we going to have a big dinner tonight?" He growled. "And make up your mind quickly; I don't like standing in the rain."

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#47

Tristan had noted the level of what in another time and another place would be called 'twitchiness' within Adan's actions and words, like a river just barely held in check. If he didn't say something soon, Trigu's Gates would admit two more before the sky lightened enough to see the blood-soaked ground.

"You can consider yourselves free of our attention unless this sort of occurrence happens again. We'll be gone before the sun is o'erhead." He laid his hand the one on Adan's hilt, and spoke softly. "Relax brother. Do not provoke further violence. Their blood-stained hands will get their just reward, eventually."

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#48

Is the purse there? Of course. Why would Adan lie? Speaking of which... "I -" And cut off by his own 'brother', the knight simply fell to tight lips, his sword slowly sheathing itself, though a hand would not move far from it as he straightened, and took a step back, a studious neutrality falling across his face. I will not vow to bear false witness. I will NOT. Still, his voice remained still and silent for the moment, allowing the priest to guide him for the moment through this minefield. Had I the strength... But nothing to betray that thought, for the moment.

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#49

For a few moments a standoff. All were silent for several seconds, only the buzzing of the rain in the great desolate valley, then Borgradoc grunted, his lackeys took their prizes and slowly still facing the the Triguians, the Verbeeg increase the distance between them and their marks. Adan's expresion was unreadable, his eyes slits, his mouth closed tightly, his throat a raw patchwork of healing flesh.

Tristan looked pensive but unafraid, thankful that his brother had heeded the young priest's words. This was not the place and time for mortal combat. Not in these circumstances. Tristan winced slightly, as pain gnawed his calf from his own wound.

Brown Borgradoc let them keep their horses, who whinnied gently now, still standing stolidly beneath the hempen net.

The Verbeeg withdrew almost as suddenly as they came. The drizzle subsided as if on cue. Far above a few eagles were doing peculair aerial maneuvers, Adan noticed as he finally tore his burning eyes away from the humanoids, and looked up. It was if the birds, little more than specks now, were givng Brown Borgradoc a sign or warning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Indeed they had, grinned Borgradoc as he peered at his trained birds far above. More travellers were coming toward the gorge. This would be a fine day for bounty, the charismatic Verbeeg smiled to himself, and pulled tighter on Dog's collar.

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#50

As the young ex-nobleman, now penniless, looked up into the sky, and watched the birds, he swore beneath his breath in his native tongue, a gutteral and glottal set of words. "The beasts will feed well tonight, it seems. May they need seven bites of their own flesh for every bite of anothers they take to sate their hunger." A longer thought, as Adan turned his attention towards the pack of his horse. There must be some way he could send a signal to any who approached. Some way. The Sulphurs burnt well, he knew, and wet leaves smokily, but he had no way to launch the things. A vow extorted under duress is no vow - Trigu, send me inspiration!

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#51

Tristan glanced at his leg, noting the crossbow bolt jutting out of it, unnoticed in the commotion. He then turned his gaze towards where the verbeeg had disappeared. His voice was pensive, and he wished to heaven that he could deny the logic creeping through his mind. "Do you think someone else is headed this way? They'll never suspect an ambush..." The priest turned to Adan and began to speak again, glancing now and again towards the verbeeg's last location. "Now that we're free from instant death, the choice is no longer out of my hands. I will follow them, and make sure that they do not avail themselves upon any others that might be coming this way. After all, I said they would be free of our attention if nothing like this happened again. But I cannot and will not stand by while those creatures make sport with an unsuspecting group of travelers. They will suffer no harm if they themselves harm no-one else. But woe to them if they intend harm for others. Trigu gave me wits and hands: I have used the former to allow me to use the latter."

He separated his next words from the former to give Adan a chance to mull over what he had said. "I cannot ask you to come with me and risk your life. You have started on the path to redemption. I couldn't let circumstances prevent you from pursuing that pathway, otherwise those creatures would be licking their wounds instead of possibly planning another attack. But neither can I let them do whatever they will. I shall follow them once this wound is cleaned and healed." He hobbled over to the camp, stamping out the small bit of flame that had caught onto the parts of net nearest the fire before sitting down on the rock he had occupied just a few hours prior. A grunt of pain came from Tristan's lips as he jerked the bolt from his calf. A few words of prayer later, and his hand and leg were both as good as new, if a bit tender.

He began to pack lightly, stowing everything except his mace and edibles on his sister's former horse. There was no need for him to have a mount, nor anything but the essential supplies.

OOC: Okay, I know it seems like a lot happened there, but here's a breakdown.

Speculation. Explaination of intentions. Explaination of loophole. Explaination of previous actions. Heals self, twice (once for each wound, unless one heal will heal both of them). Begins to pack up everything except his weapon and food/water so Adan doesn't have to. Assuming Adan pulls an insane loop-de-loop (which I'm not expecting, but Tristan is), he'll get the horse and everything there.

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#52

A careful, swift motion, a face utterly devoid of emotion, this allows Adan to yank the bolt from his own thigh, before dipping into that long, flat case. Vodka to cleanse the wound, drawing a sharp breath of pain. Leaf of lamb's ear to be held against the injury, clumsily, but tightly tied beneath the bandage, to speed the healing. Extract of willow bark, to ease the pain, taken in water with garlic oil, to prevent sepsis of the wound. Yes. That would do it, even if it tastes worse than something that might be found in an ogre's boot. As he completed this, Adan twisted his face into an expression of disgust, shaking his head even as he tested the ability of his leg to bear his weight without the readiness for war rushing through him. It would do, he supposed.

"No. You cannot ask that, brother. Nor could I ask it of you. But neither can you stop me from coming along, in any case, and you will have need of my knowledge, if not my blade, if you are to live this day." A smear of his own blood, upon his blade, an etching of a familiar symbol along its length. "And if all fails, then I shall die as a son of Hellschwert should, with my blade in hand and those I would protect behind me, disowned or nay."

And as he looked about, he frowned, pointing upwards into the rocks. "We will need the height, to steal it from them when they swoop down upon their victims. At least they may be spared the nets. And we will need to move. Now."

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#53

Brown Borgradoc first tried to squeeze the Hellschwort signet ring onto his own stubby pinky, but having failed that, tossed it into his satchel annoyed at its circumference. Perhaps it would make a nice earring, he thought.

As the Verbeeg made their way quickly across the desolate bowl of the valley (they moved in great strides despite their awkwardness), Borgradoc was deep in thought.

The eagles had indicated more "meat" ahead and above the rim of Ethdos Gorge. Borgradoc wanted to make sure the Verbeeg were back for the evening's festivities in Cottar's Bale, but surmised that the gang had enough time to climb back up, and see who the new trespassers may be, before heading back to the hamlet. Luck was with him, Borgradoc thought, the travelleres were in the direction of the village anyway.

It would have to be quick though. He did not want to miss the annual crowning of Snowmelt's "maiden fare". He was in fact hoping he would be fuggering the winner later this same evening. As he grinned through yellowed teeth, Borgradoc absent-mindedly fingered his other ring, the one that protruded from his pierced eyebrow. No one could resist Brown Borgradoc, he told himself, and soon the Verbeeg reasoned, Cottar's Bale would be his anyway, for all intents and purposes.

As Borgraodc thought his thoughts, the group neared the cliff-face, and glanced up. Two hundred feet fifty above was the hill country and the road to Cottar's Bale.

Borgradoc paused, too lazy to go up again at first, but then steeling himself, the Verbeeg leader shouted orders at Yoord and Mrok. Something about grappling hooks and eagles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Adan followed Tristan toward certain doom, the pair was silent, nursing wounds and grudges and thoughts of righteousness.

They kept well back of the Verbeeg now, but kept them in their sights. It was not difficult in fact, to mark six nine foot tall humanoids in a flat rock-strewn valley, as they travelled. Adan made sure to keep one eye on the skies, to see if any more treacherous birds, were in turn spying on the pair, but the wind had seemingly chased them away. The Eagles were no where in sight now.

The end of the late afternoon rain was replaced with wind again, which picked up now, and began its ode to the coming dusk, howling and echoing throughout the gorge. The Triguians pulled their cloaks tighter around their tired, aching bodies and trudged on, determined, and unafraid.

Suddenly Tristan paused, and pointed something out to Adan, who was himself already peering in the same direction. Several hundred feet ahead, the pair could now see the rim of the gorge, more than two hundred feet up lay the valley's rim. But what they saw now, was tiny figures in the distance, six of them, apparently making their way up the rock-face of the cliff, moving quite quickly, perhaps due to their great strength and knowledge of the mountain.

They noticed another thing as well. Mud was lazily flowing off in clumps from the gorge's rim, falling and seeping down slowly past the climbing Verbeeg, and dropping in globs from the heights. It seemed the day's rain had brought mudslides to the region.

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#54

"Brother, do you see the rim of the cliff up ahead? I believe that's a mudslide of some sort. It could make following them difficult..." Tristan looked around, trying to find a way up to the top of the cliff that didn't involve the risk of being killed in a mudslide.

OOC: Are we within the 'threat' range of a cliff-top mudslide?

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#55

no sir

Re: Where the wind blows (Chap III)

#56

"That which is dangerous to us, is just as dangerous to them, brother." A frown played across Adan's face, as he shook his head. "We will need to climb the ridge elsewhere, in any case." A shake of the head, as he began to pick his way down the rocky valley, tacking slightly away from the hunting Giants, before a hymn came unbidden to his mind, a request for guidance and protection. Humming it beneath his breath, the fallen paladin picked his way forwards, seeking a path up the ridgeline, doing his best to keep something between himself and it at all times.