Yeah, disappointed in how that turned out, but they did attack me. Not pleased that I was not more assertive with trying persuasion. gaaah, I may have some learning to do as paladin ...
The figures behind you are not mounted, but you do notice that fairly close in front of you, and heading your direction, is a large caravan consisting of wagons pulled by large, shaggy, horned animals, with large, greenish-grey skinned folks in rough clothing riding more of those animals, as if forming a vanguard for the caravan. (if you want a mental image of the beasts in question: think American bison)
You see that one of the scouts on the north flank of the caravan is in your path, and yes, the shaggy beast you see the scout riding resembles the figurine quite closely.
You have heard legends of hardy, stout folk with greenish skin who roam the steppes with their beasts, stopping in the occasional town to resupply but almost never seen by other than frontier townsfolk, scouts, and post riders...the names associated with these legends are not coming to your mind though.
> here is my plan. The idea is to try and get one of the wagons to block the line of sight between my pursuers and me and then I change tack, heading toward the rear of the caravan and in so doing keep the wagon between me and them.
You notice that your pursuers have veered off further to the north than you, trying to outflank you with a lead pursuit instead of tailchasing you in a pure-to-lag pursuit position
You don't realize that you've cut the curve too tightly until you're almost face-to-face with one of the trailing scouts, who wheels their mount around and dismounts as you are hailing them." "Oh? A herald? We...uh..." *and then shouts something unintelligible into the caravan, causing the caravan to slow to a stop "What is this news?"
Their voice has a gruff, guttural accent to it, and they are clearly a rough-hewn figure, their skin somewhat darker than that of the first scout you saw and their leathers patched repeatedly.
"An artifact?" You hear another unintelligible call into the caravan. A short while later, an older, somewhat crooked figure comes out, leaning on a polehammer (lucerne hammer) with a battered-looking, faintly carved head. His voice has hints of the guttural tone in it, despite lacking the booming nature of the calls into the caravan "Uh...you said you found an artifact of ours? May I see it?" (roll Religion)
You think this figure must be some sort of warlock, or the likes...he's not like any priest you've ever seen before, or heard of. Their eyes light up immediately when they see it, though, and they start talking in an eager tone "Ah yes, one of the beast-figures we use in ceremonies! They do occasionally wander a bit, like the beasts themselves. May I ask where you found this?"
"Oh, those folks." He seems to scowl, but not at you "They seem to think that theft and flight are a way of life, in many cases...last time we ran into them, a scout of ours shot two of them who got caught running off with a bull rautha."
"As to the rock you name, we were just headed there ourselves, as your intuition that it is a ceremonial place is correct -- there are several of such scattered across these fields and grasslands. What brought you in to the rock in search of the figurine?"
"Ah. We have...no destination in particular once the ceremonies are complete...but come to think of it, we do need to visit town soon to trade for a few provisions. Do you know where this mentor can be found?"
You hear a shout you can't make out, and the scout you were talking to immediately mounts up and begins to wheel, spurring his mount into a charge. At the same time, the figure you're speaking with hefts his polehammer in his hands "Fight's on! Run 'em off!"
Their first arrow looks to be an awful wobbler of a shot, but hits anyway. The charge misses completely though, as the second thug flees the battlefield, terrified by it
You hear a higher pitched yell from the first scout, it sounds like their mount actually spilled them a bit. They console their mount as they work their way back to the camp, covered by the second scout...
(20 HP on T1)
(S1 has exited the battle)
The first thug fires their crossbow at the retreating scout....
Both of his arrows strike home this time, the crossbowman screaming in response. Too distracted by his wounds to evade, he is struck by the charging rautha as well...
The thug staggers from two grave arrow wounds, then is absolutely clobbered horns-first by the rautha, goring his chest wide-open and tossing him flying. He manages to get a good several seconds of hang-time, dying before he even lands due to the massive trauma inflicted.
Your blade connects with the thug's shoulder, cutting deeply to the tune of a growl (T3 at 24HP) "You burned her heart out when you could have simply ordered her to yield. I was told what happened there."
The thug takes a severe cut across his stomach and slowly staggers away, letting go of his sword as the priest moves in to bind his wounds and drag him off "We'll take him captive if you don't mind, make sure he's brought to justice."
OK, I'll propose to the orc shaman that we head for the northern town after the ceremnoy, and I'll baically give him the figurine. (IIRC, he was examining it when we were attaked)
I'll also propose to introduce him to the priest in the town norther and east (where I started) sine he wanted to visit with Trauvin's mentor.
> will offer such help as I can to guard caravan if he'll let me travel with them.
The shaman nods "A sound plan. We will camp for the night though, so we will be rested for the ceremony, as it takes some time. We have a healthy scout force, as you may have saw, although the offer of assistance is most appreciated; you are no coward, unlike the rustlers and such."
You sleep the night, blissfully unaware of the commotion that's gone on. Come morning, you awaken to find the bandit-girl from before, badly bruised, beaten, and in a heavily stained dress, her veil gone to reveal medium-bronze skin, tied up in the back of a wagon and moaning softly still.
Various folks involved in the ceremonial rites at the rock are preparing for the ritual, and you take a drink from your waterskins while this is all happening. Unfortunately, you don't know their tongue, so you can't really make out any of it, although you can see the elderly orc woman nodding along and patting the orc boy on the back and shoulder, then sending him off to his parents.
You observe politely and patiently; although the ceremonies do seem quite odd to your eyes, you can definitely still feel the spiritual significance of them in your own heart.
The old orc lady walks up to you, speaking in a slightly broken and accented common "I think it'd be better if I explained. Her tongue is forked, lies on one side, venom on the other."
"The boy I was talking to caught the glint of her steel by the firelight, and went at her with a rolling pin. Turns out, she had tried to steal the figurine back, and was getting ready to shank you 'tween the shoulder blades as you lay there in your bedroll."
The Orc boy smiles back and puts his fist over his heart in the salute of his people, then slowly, tentatively, takes your hand, giving it a firm shake after a short delay.
Your rustling through the purse has found various talismans and tokens, none of which you recognize. The rest of the journey back to town is uneventful, the rustlers having gotten the message not to screw around with Orcs, for now at least.
You also find phials of various liquids in the purse, but the markings are badly worn, to the point where you decide they're best left alone.
Before we get to the town, I would like to offer the young orc his pick of one of the talisman's, as a token of friendship, but only under old lady's supervision. (Don't want to cause offense).
The old lady nods her head at the offer, and the young boy picks out what looks to be an ancient Elven charm of swiftness that the girl had kept in her purse.
"Good meet Malik." He taps his chest with a smile in return "Baol'zur'ak" then states something unintelligible, which a nearby orc translates "he means 'of' Swift-Horn clan'"
The Back Room: Live Tabletop Games
The Back Room: Live Tabletop Games