| Logs |
2001 April 28
| Inizii |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
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| Realms: Inizii Logs |
The Great White North
Darkness has set over Nemford, and a full cloud dusts the area in yet another layer of fresh wintery snow. The main room of The Snowed Inn is full of uncouth patrons, as well as a few of a more savory sort, many of the older and more experienced gathered around the blazing hearth, cradling mugs and telling stories of the harsh, bitter land. The barmaids are not too attractive, but they do their job with steady hands as they scurry around, serving the evening's meal.Kyrel and Derleth head downstairs after unpacking their gear and pouring Kaz into a bed. Derleth says, "Well, maybe it's just as well, Kaz is out like a light."
Kyrel says, "What's just as well?" Vane had stayed behind for the evening, checking over his studies and continuing to sketch in his book.
Derleth says, "That Kaz is out like a light. ;)"
Kyrel snorts. "That's just redundant." He finds a table and orders a bowl of stew and an ale when he gets the barmaid's attention. One of the barmaids come by, eyes full of long nights serving mead, features weathered from the harsh region. "Will ye bah stay en fer meal, or hed'en out?"
Kyrel says, "Staying. What are you serving tonight?"
The barmaid nods, then turns to Derleth. "Will you be havin' the night's meat, eh?" The cleric smiles and utters a simple 'aye' in response as he looks for an empty table. She turns back to Kyrel. "Mountain Goat mutton."
Kyrel says, "Sounds ... interesting."
The maid turns, disappearing into the kitchen. A chorus of laughter runs along the men ringing the Hearth.
Derleth says, grinning, "At least the meat has a name. We know what it is. I'd be more leary if she refused to elaborate. "
Kyrel leans back in his chair and watches the group by the hearth, trying to pick out their conversation from the rest of the room.
Derleth chuckles under his breath. "Now I do be wondering, were he awake, if Kaz's be drunk enough t' dry and coax that barmaid t' his bed." Kyrel chuckles softly. "Kaz? He'd likely try to bed a polar bear if there weren't any other girls around."
Filtering off one of the withered, old gents currently taking the turn of story telling, "An', there she be, icicles hanging from her flesh, snow coatin' her hair, she be bringin' forth the beasts o' the snow 'pon us!" A few mutters of agreement, men having heard of such, come up.
Derleth sighs regretfully as there appears to be no game at which he can try his luck, such as it is. He catches the tail end of that comment, and leans closer with an air of curiosity.
Another man begins his own tale, and the men draw closer to hear his softer voice. This one's words can't be heard from the current position, over the other customers. Kyrel nods at Derleth. "Shall we move up once our food arrives?
Coincidentally, the barmaid moves up, setting down the steaming bowl of stew and Derleth's mutton, as well as their drinks, before moving off to another table. Derleth chuckles and takes his plate. "Let's do."
One of the men withdraws from the hearth, shouldering his cloak and heading out of the room. A spot near the fire is exposed.
Derleth shanghais the space, offering it to Kyrel while he stands behind him. The half-elf takes the offered space, nodding politely to the storyteller.
Kiri squirms beneath Kyrel's cloak, drawn out of his hiding place by the warmth, his head peering forth and giving his master a chirrup. One of the men across gives the bat a hard eye. "Ye got rats in yer clothes?"
Kyrel coaxes Kiri all the way out. "A bat, not a rat. Say hello, Kiri." Derleth sighs, but leaves it to Kyrel to deal with the man.
Kiri chitters, and flaps his wings to settle on a rafter just above the rising warmth of the fire. Several men glance up, but Shhh! As the soft-spoken fellow continues his tale. "So, we were in the darkness, and this beast of hail and ice, it was surrounded by a storm of the sleet, attacked our camp. Like a frozen snake, the thing snatched one man, coiling itself around him! We eventually beat back the thing, and losing men and horse alike to it's teeth and claws, and it slipped off. The man who be in its coils was frozen to the bone, as cold as the air 'bout us."
Derleth bites into his mutton as he listens quietly, wiping a bit of gravy off his chin. Kyrel relaxes as the group seems to be willing to ignore Kiri for the moment and listens to the tale.
"Aye," One of the grizzled men, a particularly unwashed one missing several fingers, puts in. "Thems usually come out with the snows, the Sleet Devils they be. As he said, gesturing to the man who'd been speaking of the woman coated in ice and snow, "These devils oft' work with the Ice Hags fer food, or they're kept in line by the Hag's magics." His tone is dark like the others, but there's a certain disdain in his voice in reference to the Art.
Derleth scratches his chin, wondering what these's creatures could be....
Kyrel says, "They make travelling in the winter a bit exciting, do they?"
The man beside Derleth tips his head. "They also make things much more deadly than the claws of the cold, too."
Kyrel says, "Common, are they? Or just a worst-case sort of thing?"
Hands come palms up in a shrug-like guesture. "Them hags of the north are rare, aye...Legend says er, when a woman be shunned by a city, pushed out into the cold, sometimes the dark arts're taken up, rituals...that change her. Them ice lizards, or sleet creatures, What-ever they are... I've not seen 'em, but... I've not traveled out far north. Too much lizard and barbarian slime to be of my taste."
Derleth just shakes his head in response. Sadly, any infomation we might get is tainted by country superstition. And embellished with the help of liquor.
A curious eye is given to the cleric and his wizardly comrade. "You two don't look like fishers or fugitives. What're you here t'do?"
Derleth musters up a smile. "Oh, we be on an errand for a patron, to be doing some hunting. So 'twould be well to know the dangers hereabouts."
Kyrel says, "Working on a commission, actually. Hoping to trap some of the northern creatures for him."
A brow lifts. "Trappin' Northern inhabitants, eh? Well, wipe out them lizard scum while yer at it, too..." A hand lifts to scratch his balding scalp. "So you know the area? I've not seen either a' you hereabouts."
Kyrel chuckles. "Actually, we're not that familiar with it. We were hoping to hire a guide or two."
Derleth nods. "Aye. We come recently from TarlBren, further south o 'here."
He scratches the scrubby beard. "Hrm. Dembric," He asks the man across from him, "You know whom they should seek to lead them about the Northern Reach?" Dembric looks up from his mug, ale swimming his eyes. "Eh? Ahh...then they should look fer Wyvernjack." A few hearty chuckles rise from the men around.
Derleth chews some more on the mutton. It's not bad, really.
Vane pads downstairs, his spectacles in one hand, the other pinching the bridge of his nose. He replaces them, and pauses at a half-muttered inquiry as to his parentage. He stands very still for several long moments, regarding a grizzled bar patron impassively. For whatever reason, the snickering ceases as quickly as it began. Vane continues on his way, sitting down near his brother.
Derleth says, "And where can we find this man...Wyvernjack?"
A new round of snickers come up. "Oh, you'll find the forester along the edge of town. Past the walls, go north, and into the cluster of trees. I believe there's a little cabin up there."
Derleth blinks and looks around at the men gathered at the fire, wondering whether or not they're being played...and if they are not, then what is funny. "He be a mountain ranger, then?"
They continue to just grin at themselves. "Ranger, yes. Knows the region pretty well. In fact, one of our spokesmen to the Big Cold Ones, as well as the gnolls further up."
Derleth looks at the men blankly. "The Big Cold ones. Giants?"
Dembric nods. "Aye, big blue skinned behemoths! Them keeps those big ice-breathin' dogs, right?" The original speaker nods.
Kyrel leans back in his chair, thinking over Basel's ... proclivities, and the local's amusement. "We were advised by our patron to look him up, in fact. He's not a human, is he?" It's more of a statement than a question.
Derleth feigns casual interest. "And where d' these...behemoths dwell, perchance?"
The man beside Derleth snickers. "Yes, human." Another man, yellow toothed and overweight, slaps his knee. "Aye human, but no man! Tis a woman!" Several others of the ale-soaked group turn heads with the volume of their laughter.
Vane sighs quietly. Without bothering to lift his eyes, he murmurs softly, "Kyrel. Why are we wasting time with this foolishness?"
Kyrel replies softly in Elven, "Not completely foolishness, even from fools. They do know where Wyvernjack is. And after pulling our legs a bit, they admitted he's a she."
Vane tips his hatbrim down a bit. "Does it matter?"
Beside Derleth, the man continues. "Eh...dunno. She'd be knowing, though."
Derleth sighs and wishes he'd had more aptitude for languages. To be able to speak and understand Elven would be an aid, considering his compainions all do.
Derleth nods. "We'll seek her out then. Thankee for the directions."
Kyrel shrugs at his brother. "It saves time."
Vane sits up a bit. "What does? Her being female?"
Kyrel shakes his head. "Huh? No, letting them have their little joke in exchange for directions."
Derleth looks down at his plate, and abruptly notices he finished at some point. He looks at the two mages. "I be back in a bit, m'friends. Just wanting t' be making sure the horses are well, and per'aps t'give Platinum a rubdown." He makes his way to the Tavern door then and exits.
Vane mms and sits back, leaning his hat down over his eyes. "I suppose. Do as you will, little brother, and wake me when you're ready to set off. He waves a hand dismissively at the cleric.
Kyrel settles down with the remains of his stew and asks for a second mug of ale. "At any rate... thanks for the directions. Don't let us stop the tales." A mug is brought to Kyrel, and the man offering information nods, turning back to the group who had continued without him.
As the two brothers discuss and listen within the Tavern, Derleth has found himself back in the stables. The smell of hay and horse is strong, the scent of burning oil drifting off the lit lamps hanging on either side of the open-aired structure.
Derleth smiles as he greets his pony fondly. "How are'y boy, hmm?" Platinum whickers, stamping his foot a bit in delight at seeing his owner.
Derleth laughs delightedly in that brogue. "Ah, I know yer putting on a gud face...but still tis blistering cold, ne? One oh these days I'll get ye a bridle or sommat that does the same as me ring... few now, how about I try taking some of the cold from yer bones..." he looks around for the saddle blanket, which he finds and starts to give Platinum's muscles a good rub.
The horse rubs himself up into the cleric's hands, tail swishing as ears swivel. The horse whinnies at something.
The sounds of a scuffle outside can be heard, coming from behind the barn. Platinum starts to stir and move out of his stall, eager to see what's about and get in on the mess.
Derleth says, "Hey now, boy...."
One of the voices, in a rare moment, sounds quite familiar.
Derleth grabs a hold of Platinum's halter and make the vocal signal to stay. "Let me look out for it, ne? I'll call ye if ave need of ye." The cleric then exits the stall while leaving the door open and moves in the direction of the brouhaha, hand on flail.
The path leads out between the stables and behind The Snowed Inn, within a forked alley. Two dark figures, blades gleaming in the dim light, are closing in on a young scrape defending himself with a dagger and a broken piece of fencing wood. A quick glance shows that it's Jamtiln, slowly backing himself into a corner, and deftly scurrying away from a sword-stab.
Derleth curses. He considers the situation, decides that he can't leave the boy to his own devices, and then chants to his goddess, calling on Divine Favor.
The men continue to close in, but Jamtiln glances up, smiling brightly. He cotinues to keep the men at bay, but one, noting the boy's smile, and that soft chanting behind, turns on his heel.
Derleth clutches at his amulet, feeling his body imbued with strength from his Goddess as he sees one of the ruffians coming to the attack...
The slender, armor clad youth slides inward, and brings his short-sword to bear, sending a curt stab toward the Fortune Follower, murder in his eyes. The sword comes in quick, but the tip skids off Derleth's chestplate, deflected easily.
Derleth yeows! almost expecting the blade to pierce his breastplate, and murmuring thanks to Lliara that it does not. Raising his flail, he just as wordlessly swings for the black clad warrior!
The flail whistles in, and even though the cutthroat moves backwards, the weapon comes in and crashes into his side. He doubles over, cradling his side. Even as he does, though, the man comes in strong, swinging the blade in spite of his injury. The swing comes up short, lodging in the wooden wall of the stable.
Derleth nimbly dodges away from that blow, grinning savagely. "Ye'll nae find me an easy mark, cutpurse!" He dances forward, lashing out once more with his holy weapon!
The cutpurse rolls aside from the swing, deftly dodging the swinging block, and bumps into his fellow. The other looks back, and the two then make a steady run in the oposite direction, leaving Jamtiln and Derleth alone.
Derleth pahs and spits. "Cowards." He sighs as he regards the boy wryly. "Trouble seems t'find ye. Be thankful the Lady smiled on ye yet again, boy."
Jamtiln sneers and tosses the wood away. "Eh, I could've finished it myself," he offers, but salutes, none the less. "I thank you, though, my friend." He shakes his head, sheathing the dagger. "Rivals, indeed!"
Derleth holds his flail firmly in his grip, looking around briefly to see if other assailiants lurk in the shadows. The shadows seem to offer no further enemies lurking in their depths, however. Jamtiln sighs, and leans against the wall of the Inn, taking up a small symbol on a thong from about his neck, thumbing it in his hands.
Derleth says, "Rivals? And what de ye mean by that? Are ye in trouble with the local thieves guild then, eh?" He slides his flail back into its belt loop, stepping forward.
Shaking his head, the boy lifts the thong. "Actually," He offers, showing off the symbol of a dagger under a cloth, "They're against me guild. Territory and all that. And all I was after was a cup of ale!"
Derleth regards boy and symbol. "I take it then that ye speak not of any local law, but rather of an opposing gang in the same line o' work?"
The boy shrugs. "Eh...not line of work, but like two cats fighting over hunting ground, eh?" He glances over to Derleth. "Besides, they're angry that the guild-hall's gaming tables are fuller then theirs."
Derleth ahs, getting the gist now. "So they then be interested in taking out their frustration on an easy target then, eh? Twas not you they hated, twas what ye represent."
"Aye." He reguards you a moment, and fishes in a pouch, producing a pair of dice. "Indeed, sir Derleth." Brow perking from his mop of brown hair, "Wern't you one to be up for a toss of the dice or draw of card?"
Derleth offers a toothy smile. "Ah, so tis once again my gold ye be after, save in a more honest fashion?"
Derleth does not deny the young man's comment, however, his eyes gleaming just thinking about it.
"Oh, no sir," He offers, smiling genuinely. "I ask if you be interested in gaming at my patron's tables, not with me. I've not too much the skill...not so much as one like yourself."
Derleth scratches at his chin. "Me friends are busy listening t' stories...mayhap twould not be too bad t' indulge meself. Aye, and done then lad. Let me just see to my horse, and then we'll talk about this patron and his tables...."
Jamtiln nods his head, and guestures toward the stables. "Indulge, Derleth sir, do not mind me."
Derleth inclines his head, going back to Platinum, making sure he's got feed and water, closing the gate once more, and then coming back to meet Jamtiln with a smile. "Come lad, the cards await."
"Aye, sir Derleth," He replies, and moves down through the allies, looking back over his shoulder to see if the cleric is following. He slips this way and that, weaving under hangings, behind buildings, through back streets, even pushing aside a few planks of wood to slide behind the fence.
Derleth marvels at the lad's ability to traverse the backroads and hidden paths with a natural ease. I'd swear, th' lad's part street rat.. He follows as easily as he can, trying not to lose sight of the boy.
Glancing behind, as if sensing Derleth's curiousity, "I've been here several times before." Not long after, he pushes open a seemingly flawless wall. The portion creeks inward, exposing a stairway. "Down here," says Jamtiln, ushering the cleric in.
Derleth nods and ducks under, one cautious hand on his flail, the other patting at the hollow in his armor where his money pouch is safely tucked.
The stairs decend in quiet darkness for several moments, before the boy knocks on a portion of the wall. A muttered word is heard, but not discerned, and then the wall slides open. The sound of merriment, voices and dice being rolled flows up, as light spills into the space.
Derleth huhs and he walks forward into the cacaphony of sound, looking around with interest. Gaming tables stretch around a considerably sized room. Lanterns hang and shed light, as well as little mage-balls of magical illumination. Men crowd around this table and that, tossing dice, playing knuckles, or cards along the back. Coins are exchanged and men grumble their displeasure, but everything seems...right.
Derleth glances back at Jamiltn. "And why is this wondrous place so hidden and out o' the way? in the big cities, the Lliaran sponsored gaming halls are out in public view fer the enjoment o' all. Is gambling illegal here?"
"Because," the boy answers, "All the winnings go to the guild, itself. And, the Guild is illegal; thieving guilds are generally illegal, ne?"
Derleth laughs. "Aye, tis true enough I suppose..."
The youngster gestures to the tables, "What be your pleasure, Derleth sir?"
Derleth walks through the crowd, looking around. "I'm hankering fer a few rounds o' Dragon poker, lad. Can ye accomodate me?"
Scratching his unhaired chin, "I believe...oh! There be the head of our gambling hall, come." The boy weaves through the crowd, and pulls a seat from the table at the far end, waving you over.
Derleth follows, sitting in the chair offer, and surveying the layout.
A few well-off looking men set around the table, holding cards. At the head, man in a goatee and red hair in a thick braid eyes Derleth a moment. "New blood," He comments, a dark smile finding him. The round ends, with the red-haired fellow winning, raking in the silver coins. "Want to be dealt in?" He asks.
Derleth offers a smile and nods. "Aye." he says, pulling out his own coin pouch. "What be the ante, men?"
"Two silver." The others at the table drop their coin in, and take up their cards as the dealer starts tossing them in.
Derleth nods, tossing in the ante and removing a handful more silver, along with a half-dozen gold pieces. After being dealt all five cards, he picks them up and studies his hand.
An impressive hand. Two knights, a wizard, the flaming dagger, and a Wildspell card.
Derleth considers, and then tosses in three silver.
All but one call the bet, the other folds. The red haired man tosses a gold in, and all in the game also meet his bet.
Derleth arches an eyebrow and meets the bet. "Two cards." he says to the dealer, giving him the wizard and the dagger.
He nods, and takes the cards, sliding two in. The red-haired man and the one beside him give cards, the first three, the other one.
Derleth recieves another armor-clad knight, and the grinning green dragon.
Derleth hmms curiously at the red haired man, as he bet so high and then asked for three cards.
Giving Derleth a grin, he drops his cards, showing three wizards. "I have a cabal," He announces." The other three men in the game grumble, dropping their cards. He gives Derleth a curious eye. "And, yours?"
Derleth smiles faintly. "The Lady has gifted me with one greater, sirrah." he says as he reveals his cards with a flourish.
Derleth says, "Four of a kind."
The man next to Derleth whistles. "A troop of Mercenaries." They nod, and the cards shuffle up. The ante comes around.
After at least ten rounds of cards, the game is down to three. Derleth has a considerable pile, a gruff thug having a small stash to himself, and the red-headed man, who's name is Ne'Ash, this being supplied by Jamtiln. Derleth has removed his gauntlets and has his sleeves rolled up, as do the others, to insure absolutely no cheating, in this high stakes game. A table over, a man had been found cheating, and was dragged outside. Derleth now has three Blue dragons wrapped in lightning, a Lich, and the token of Lliara.
Ne'Ash tosses three gold in, and so does the gruff man, then he waits for Derleth to join in.
Derleth adds his gold to the pile, giving the dealer his Lich.
The dealer slips another card to Derleth, which turns out to be another Token. Ne'Ash looks stonefaced, and looks up from his cards. "Now, boys, I say we raise the stakes a tad."
Derleth arches an eyebrow at Ne'Ash, his own face as blank as he can make it, what with freckles and all. "Aye?"
Setting down his cards, Ne'Ash pulls a silver ring from his finger, the end capped with a sapphire gem shaped in the head of a slim-muzzled, pointy eared canine. "This ring has a bit of magic in it, changing it's wearer into a small, winter fox." He tosses it onto the pile. "Magical tokens."
Derleth considers the bid, studying the red-haired man's face, and also looking at the third man, to see how he considers this bid.
He looks uncomfortable, but none the less draws an arrow fletched with flaming feathers, it's shaft grey with runes that flow like an inferno up it's shaft. "Turns t'fire on it's shot," he grunts, dropping it on the pile.
Derleth grits his teeth briefly, and then puts a vial on the pile. "An elixer that makes one unseen t' they eye. I call you, men. SHow yer hands."
The dealer waves a hand, gazing at the items, and nods. Ne'Ash drops his hand. "A necromancer, two zombies, and a bloodied alter." The grizzled man grunts, dropping his hand, only having two grinning dragons. They give a glance at Derleth.
Derleth smiles. "I do apologize sirrah, but I must trounce you again." he chuckles, revealing his cards.
Ne'Ash stares at Derleth a moment, there a gleam in those eyes for a breath, before he nods. The other human rises from the table, rumbling off about something... "It seems it's only I, and you." He announces, nodding to the Dealer, who begins shuffling. "So, you are a priest of the Lady Luck, hm?"
Derleth smiles gamely. "I have chosen such service, aye."
"Mmhm," He replies, and takes his cards as they're delt. "So, you can bring the will of your god with you? Making a man blind, calling forth the favor of Lliara, and thus thus?" He tosses two silver onto the center of the table.
Derleth offers up his own ante as he places his coin and magical treasures on his side of the table. "Aye. But only in battle, or as true necessity meets. In gaming, I am as equal as you in whether or not she gifts me. This...this is my worship, my meditation." he concludes, gesturing to the table.
Taking up his cards, he peers over them toward the short man. "There is an old proverb," He says casually, tossing three gold onto the pile. "Those whom have talent become wizards. Those without spend the rest of their time praying for it."
Derleth arches an eyebrow at the red-haired man. "There are many kinds of talent, sirrah. That arcane gift that some, like two of my companions, have, is only one o' them. Some have the talent of a quick blade, or...flail, say. And I'd like to think I've my share of it."
He smirks faintly. "Indeed." The cards that Derleth recieved are a Wildspell, two Wizards, a demon, and, with impressive luck, another Wildspell.
Derleth scratches his chin, and adds five more gold to the pot.
Ne'Ash places two more, then considers. "You have my ring," He announces. "I'm sore to give much left of my charms to recieve it back. However, it was won fairly; I would be little a man to desire it just handed over."
Derleth smiles. "I am a reasonable man. Offer me enough coin, or, say, an item o' conversant value, and I'd be willing t' give ye a chance t' win it back. After all, no man's luck lasts fore'er, ne?""
With a nod, he fishes into his pockets. "Though, I have to wonder," He replies, "What is worth to wet your appitite. Another item of charm, perhaps? An elixir?"
Then, after a brief moment, the man snaps his fingers. "Ah. A thing of curiousity perhaps?" He hails a young attendent over, breathing a word to him. The servant nods, and scuttles off.
Derleth considers. "I and me mates soon plan t'travel into the bitter cold wilderness in search of prey t' capture. Hard won prey. I might be willin' t accept some form o' protective scroll or potion t' aid us...but ye seem t' have something in mind, so let us be looking."
Chuckling, "I've nothing to aid in that; my exploits rarely venture futher off from this city or a tad south; I've no idiots in my ranks who desire to travel into the bitter cold and its awaiting deaths." The servant returns, handing Ne'Ash a beautiful bottle, golden threads made into the glass, which spirals up to the top. "An item of curiousity," He announces. The servant offers him a pitcher of water. Ne'Ash unstoppers, and pours the contents inside. Then, turning it so that it may point at a dart board, he oaths a word of power. The water within launches forth like a quarrel to splash fiercely into its target.
Derleth blinks in wonder. "Curious indeed." he murmurs. "And does this marvelous liquid work on liquids only, or other things as well?"
Gesturing to the pitcher of water, Ne'Ash simply smiles. "The Bottle is the item, my friend. Fill it, and utter the command. Careful, however; it can blind a man easily if aimed true. Not to mention sting." He caps the bottle, setting it beside the pile. "What do you think? Worth the ring? And, might I add, that arrow will likely help with the creatures of cold."
Derleth nods. "Easily worth, sirrah. It is a bet." He picks up the ring and places it on the pile.
Derleth puts down one card, the demon. "Give me my fifth, and then we'll see who's won this bounty, then."
Ne'Ash puts down three cards, and is dealt his replacements. Derleth is given his own...another wizard. He then pushes the full pile of coin up, which coincidently is the size of Derleth's.
Derleth blinks. "Thee is willing to bet so much? The bottle itself could be considered a priceless item."
With a shrug, "I trust my hand," He replies. With a wave of his hand to Derleth's spot, "Do you fold?" Even though the man is a trained card player, the eager hope is in his voice; not a chance to loose his bit, if such happens.
Derleth shrugs. "The greatest risk for the greatest reward, as the Lady teaches. Howe'er, in this case, there is very little to risk on my end." He pushes forward his pile, and then shows his hand. "With the aid of wild magic, Luck has garnered me a Guild of Wizards."
The man can't help but gawk. He drops his hand. He had a four of a kind...a perfect four of liches. He gazes at the cleric, and there's a flicker of anger across his face before it seems casual. He nods. "Your lady smiles."
Derleth smiles in return, acknowledging the man's sportingness. "Considering my recent fortune, it is as much a surprise t' me as t' you. But that is the way of things, is it not?"
"Indeed," the red-haired man replies.
Derleth says, "As a result, I think I shall stop here, lest it be thought, despite my good faith, that I might be unrightfully calling on divine favor."
With a nod, the man stands up. "Good luck unto you," He replies. There is a sense of darkness in his voice, a faint grin lurking on the edges of his painted smile, before the man turns, dissappearing through a door behind the table.
Derleth hmmphs, his face wary. He starts sweeping up his winnings with haste, putting them here and there about his person. "Jamiltn?" he says, looking around for the boy.
The boy looks up, raking in a big pile of gold, scooping it into a bag. He peers toward Derleth, then trots up. "Hm?"
Derleth smiles. "Ye have done well, yersel', I see. I'll be bidding you good bye for now. Take care." He squints through the crowd. "Now where be the blasted door?"
Tipping his head, he gazes at the full sack. "You raked in from Ne'Ash?"
Derleth says, "Aye, and I think I'd better be leaving, lest he decide to get it back by less than honest means."
Arching a brow, "Then best you hurry..." The boy sounds earnest, before he nods once, pointing to the far wall beside a tapestry, and then slips off.
Derleth nods moving towards the tapestry....pushing his way throguh the crowd, his brow knots in concentration as he casts a spell of Non-Detection, to protect him from scrying eyes.
A covered woman looks up as Derleth nears, and pulls the door open, guesturing for him to hurry up.
Derleth gives the lady a few silver and ducks through, casting a second spell as he does: one to render him invisible to the naked eye. Ne'Ash may think himself clever, but I be knowing all the tricks, and then some.
The woman peers back in the room, before slamming the sliding door shut. A faint whistle is heard, but muffled from the wood.
Derleth runs! making his way back to the road as fast as his small feet will take him!
It seems that Derleth will make it, until, running through a thin alley, his feet stomp across glass. The shattered sound draws a dark figure from the shadows, blade glinting in the light. Though he's in a crouch, the figure doesn't strike forth.
Derleth freezes then, knowing that, unless he attacks, he might remain yet unseen. He keeps one hand on his flail, waiting to see what the shadowy figure does.
The would-be assassin draws closer, still in a crouch, attuned to the surroundings. He reaches into a pouch, and dumps forth a mass of white powder upon the ground, and draws back. "Ne'Ash prepares," He taunts into the seemingly empty alley, and draws from his belt a dagger, poised to throw.
Derleth grimaces, trying to think of what resources he has at his disposal. A spell spoken aloud would give away my position and iffn I attack, reinforecements could come t' his aid. Should'a waste a potion of speed on the fella? He stands frozen with indecision, knowing the precious seconds tick away...
The vagabond continues to wait, blade and dagger ready. "Come on," He orders, offering a rather ripe insult. Without stepping into the powder, he leans in, jabbing with his short-sword, but it only purchases air.
Derleth grits his teeth and pulls free his Wand of Illumination, pointing it at the swordsman. "Die." he says with as much menace as he can manage, speaking the command word under his breath.
A bound of light the color of emeralds erupts from the rogue's chest, illuminating the entire alley for some distance. He screeches, dropping the dagger to paw at his chest.
Derleth does not even stop to see if his spell of invisibility fell, and flees!
Not long after, Derleth reaches the stables of The Snowed Inn, with no sounds of followers. HE pants, pounding his chest as he tries to regain his breath. "Thank ye, Lliara, with luck to aid my wit."
Derleth comes over to Platinum, and once his breathing slows, making the vocal command to 'guard'.
From within the stables, Platinum's familiar whinney shoes he recognizes his master. The horse stomps a hoof, snorting and looking rather annoyed at not being called earlier. However, the horse trots up, looking about, in understanding.
Derleth pats the horse. "I'll be back shortly, boy." maknig his way back to the tavern's front door.
Inside the Snowed Inn, Vane and Kyrel sit around as the older, more experinced veterans of the area tell tales, boast, and drink with their friends. The hearth glows an earthy orange as fire crackles within. Kiri is hanging from a rafter just above the fireplace, comfortable.
Derleth suddenly barrels through the front door. He doesn't look scared, exactly, but there is a tense look about his features, and his quickness of movement has a purposefulness about it, and an undertone of jingling, as if he carried a large quantity of coin. He looks around and spots the two brothers. Hurrying over, he says in an undertone. "Ah needs t'be speaking with ye, m' friends."
Vane doesn't look up. His familiar, curled across his neck, opens one eye, regards the cleric critically, then closes it again. "Then speak," the wizard says at length.
Derleth says, "Ah be thinking that I may needs seek lodging elsewhere...mayhaps even outside o town. I'll not ask ye t' join me, but I'll ask ye to watch out for any unsavory cutthroats that might be lookin' after me.""
Vane says, "What have you done this time?"
Derleth gets a slightly pained look. "Won some trinkets from a gent what aims t' be getting them back through less than lawful means, if ye get my drift."
Vane sighs quietly. "Won. Yes. Of course. Be on your way, then."
Derleth looks hurt. "I not be a thief, Vane. Ye should know that. Though I'll agree that me love of gambling led me to a place I should nae have been. So I'll bid ye gents goodnight, and meet ye at the gates in the morn."
Kyrel rolls his eyes. "Can't you find folks to play cards with who don't mind losing?"
Vane doesn't answer; rather, he turns back to the fire.
Derleth smiles wryly. "Find me folk who enjoy watching their money disappear, Kyrel, an I'll be happy t' play with 'em." The cleric tips his hat and is off, running up the stairs to their shared room.
Kyrel sighs. "You think it's ..." He stops as his words are left behind by the little cleric. "I guess he does..."
Vane says, "I'm growing tired of having to screen his extracurricular activities, brother."
Kyrel says, "I suppose we could play cards with him ourselves..."
Derleth comes back downstairs with his packs and runs back up to the two mages. "Oh, and aye, take care around that lad, Jamiltn. He may be a friend or nae, seeing as he's in the same lot as the man I won from.
Vane waves a hand dismissively. "We will keep our eyes open."
Kyrel says, "Him again? He's probably still miffed that you caught his hand in your pouch. Still... I won't toast him out of hand."
Derleth shrugs. "I sayved his life from a couple o ruffians...and twas he that led me t' the gambling house. Still, he showed me the way out when the tablemaster was fixing t' kill me, so he may think that debt discharged."
Vane says, "Aren't you wasting time, Derleth?"
Derleth says, "Aye, and just be letting you know. Oh, and watch for a man with a glowing chest."
Derleth scrabbles out.
Kyrel chuckles. "I can't imagine too many thieves would be too happy about glowing in the dark."
Outside, Derleth throws his bags onto his warpony, Platinum, and leaps into the saddle, steering his faithful mount towards the gates at a gallop.
Kyrel says, "I hope he has enough sense not to try charging through the gates at that clip, or the guards will think he's guilty of something."
A few minutes after Derleth leaves, a half-elf, dressed in the very clothes he collapsed on the bed with emerges from the stairwell, looking around bleary-eyed and wanders over to Kyrel and Vane. Kaz, grabbing a chair and dropping into it, rubs his eyes gently. "What was under our good Cleric's tunic?"
Vane mutters darkly, and tips his hat down over his eyes. Kai chitters absently and makes himself comfortable again.
Kyrel says, "He won at cards again. His opponents are upset about it."
Kaz nods, and settles back in his chair. "He came bursting into the room, babbling on about a guild or some such. I figured the priest had done something, and why is it that my eyes aren't being grabbed by the local women?" He gazes toward one of the unsavory barmaids, who seem to fit the crowd perfectly.
Kyrel glances toward the bar, then snorts. "Probably because they haven't figured out anyone who'd pay them for stealing them, Kaz."
Chuckling through a smirk, Kaz nods. "Anyways, what's the plan? We leave in the morning? Have we found a guide?"
Kyrel says, "Yes and no... we've found where the guide that Basel suggested lives. She's not in the city proper. We'll replace our rations and make sure we've got all the gear we need and head out that way around noon, I think."
"Well then, if we've a hard time ahead, should not we get some rest? Though, perhaps I need to take another round of that drink to put me to bed again..." He grins faintly.
Vane mms. "It is growing late."
Kyrel says, "I've not got anything to stay up for. Might as well turn in."
Disappointedly, the rogue agrees. "Nor've I. I'm going to attempt to find sleep again..."
The high-noon sun hangs comfortably in the sky, but even its heat could not diminish the snow which piles outside Nemford's walls. The streets are bustling with the mid-day crowd.
Kyrel, Kaz and Vane ride slowly toward the main gate, having replenished their supplies at the city's market. They keep a watch for disgruntled thugs or for their missing cleric.
Derleth suddenly trots up out of seemingly nowhere. He seems calmer than the night before but still wary. "Morning gents. Sleep well? No unwelcome intruders?"
Kyrel says, "Kiri says there weren't. How about you?"
From the crowd emerges a woman and her mount decked for travel. She spots the group, and moves toward them after getting a good look at Derleth.
Derleth says, "Oh, I be fine. Platinum were a little put out, but I made him a hot mash and gave him me winter blanket an a warm fire...so we be doing well enough. Thieves apparently dinna care t' look fer people outside the city."
Kyrel says, "Can't imagine why...." His eye is drawn to the approaching rider. "Anyone you know?"
Vane sighs. "Always something."
Derleth slowly turns his head to where Kyrel indicates. "Nae." he says softly. "Don' know if that be good er bad." He then hands something to the mage. "A present, from my winnings. An arrow enchanted t' burst into flame. Only one, but one is better'n none, aye?"
The woman approaches, at a particularly slow pace, watching the group but also glancing about the crowd.
Kyrel says, "You could say that, yes." He slips the arrow into his quiver, in the section with the other magic arrows. "I'll keep it for the next time we run into ice trolls or something."
Derleth glances back at the woman again. "Ye think she be after me?"
Eventually the woman decides to fully aproach the group looking straight at Derleth, "You would be Derleth, would you not?"
Kaz pipes in, "And here I'd think I'd be the one the women are after."
Derleth makes a muffled yeep as he turns to look at the tall woman, shrinking slightly under her gaze. "Uhm....aye?"
Sara says, "My name's Sara, Good ta meet ya."
Sara says, "Seems you've made an enemy or two about these parts. Seems you've got some friends here, too, though."
Sara says, "I'm told the lot of you are traveling vaguely north... I'm headed that way myself and was wondering if you wouldn't mind me tagging along."
Derleth clears his throat. Well, an that be a good start....she aint cloven me in twain yet...wait, now, what is she saying? "Enemies, an' I could say aye, one at least. But friends?" His tone seems to be less loud and boisterous than usual, almost afraid of this large woman.
Derleth blinks at Sara, trying to dechiper her words. "Travel...wi' us?"
Sara smirks playfully, "Never overlook the little 'uns. They've often got their ears closer to the ground."
Kyrel watches the usually glib cleric with a little amusement. "This means going in the same direction, Derleth."
Vane just watches, adjusting his dark glasses.
Derleth's freckled face blushes. "Aye, an I know what it mean, ye half-wit. I just...well..." He searches for words a moment. "Why? And...Jamiltn sent ye, then?"
Sara says, "Sent is an interesting concept. Not so much that really as he gave me some information on something I'm lookin' for." She smiles, a bit vaguely.
Derleth shrinks a little, sure she's about to pluck him up by the scruff of his neck. "And...what be that, lady?"
Sara almost as an aside, "Oh, someone I've been lookn for fer a while now. The Robin, they call him. Robin the blind to others."
Vane says, "And you expect to find him to the north."
Derleth exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Oh. So...ye travel with us merely t' seek another man then."
Sara nods to Vane, then again to Derleth.
Derleth scratches nervously at his throat. "Well...an I suppose another blade is something we'll be thankful for, but I'll warn ye that we travel to no town as yet, but to the forest to seek prey. So unless the man ye be looking for is in the forest..."
Sara says, "There aren't many towns to the north that I'd be wanting to visit myself, even this is a bit too far north for my comfort but yes. If I am to find him, He'd be in hiding, not snuggling up next to a fire at some Inn."
Kyrel says, "Might as well hang out with us as anyone, then."
Derleth blinks. "Ah well, then...ah suppose twould be alright..., then...if me other friends have no objections..
Kaz, giving Sara an appraising eye, simply shrugs his shoulders, grinning faintly. "Well, I wouldn't complain all too entirely about having her in the saddle besides us."
Sara smiles at Kyrel, "Not sure about that, the priest seems a bit jumpy", now obviously joking, "Think we can trust him?".
Vane tries hard to ignore the double entendre, and nods assent. "Let's be going, if we're agreed then."
Kyrel chuckles. "Just don't play cards with him. Lady Luck sometimes cheats for him."
Sara lets out a slight chuckle as her smile fades, "So I've been told..."
Derleth blushes. "Sure, an I dinnae win nothing me skill and me own luck gets me.I f twere so, I wouldna have lost all that gold t' the fur-trader in th' last town."
Kyrel just twitches an eyebrow at that as they ride along. "By whom?"
Sara says, "Jamtiln... Speaking of the boy, he told enough about Derleth there, but nary a word about the two of you and since professions aren't always apparent, mind if I ask who I be riding with?"
As the five near the gates, the guards wave them on through, though one does mutter to another, wondering the reason for folk to go into the North.
Kyrel grins. "Indeed. I'm Kyrel Thalessian, and this is Kiri." He reaches under his tunic to coax the bat out into the daylight. "Yes, I know it's bright. Just say hello to the nice lady."
Kaz raises a hand. "A simple sleek-footed, charismatic blade."
Vane says nothing.
Sara squints, trying to make out the dark form in Kyrel's hand.
Derleth groans at Kaz's comment, but says nothing else, not wanting to draw attention back to himself.
Sara looks Kaz over then looks to Vane, awaiting an answer.
Kiri chirps at the woman, spreading his wings out for a moment and then curling up again.
The half-elf riding on the other side of Vane nudges him. "You know," Kaz chimes, "You needn't be brooding. You're starting to act more like a dwarf every day."
Vane doesn't bother to glance up. "Some of us," he opines, "Have actual thoughts occupying our heads." He tips his hat back a bit. "Vane," he answers the newcomer, "And this is Kai." The ferret riding in the pocket of his long coat noses out and chirrips agreeably.
Kyrel snorts at his half-brother. "Some of us, yes. What's your excuse?"
Vane says, "Says the dealer in lies."
Sara, upon seeing the ferret gets a wide eyed look and a quick smile before she forcefully surpresses it.
Kyrel says, "Exactly. I have to think them out properly or no one will believe them. Takes a lot more thought than setting random objects on fire."
Looking hurt, Kaz slumps in his saddle. "I have thoughts, quite a few of them," Comes his defensive tone. "Even Kai comes out of his hiding place to be cheery."
Vane says, "You've obviously no head for it. You're a danger to yourself and others with anything more complex than glamours and vapors."
Sara notes the hostility of brotherly love between the two and concentrates on the road ahead.
"Well, Now I know where he's placed his wand...and book, pins, and assorted materials," comments Kaz.
Kyrel grins. "Touche. You're getting better at this."
Not far from Nemford starts a small thicket of evergreen trees, though these are somewhat wide-spread apart. Looking further in, a cabin amid the trees can be spotted.
Derleth grumbles and deliberately puts his hands over his ears. "Aye, and now I know why sleeping on me own last night was so peaceful..."
Sara speaks up, "Any of you truly know the area?"
Kyrel says, "Not really. According to our directions, though, this should be our contact. I hope she's home..."
Vane says, "We're in no hurry. If not, we can wait."
Kyrel says, "Depends if she's out for the afternoon or for the month."
Sara rides up next to Derleth, "Your contact? The boy didn't mention why you were out here. As with any out here you must be looking for something, be it animal, person, or a good place to hide. Which do you seek?"
Vane says, "It's of little import to us, Kyrel."
Kyrel says, "The first. We've got a commission to capture some winter-wolf cubs."
Kaz spurrs his horse between the trees, winding his way toward the cabin. "Well, Either way, let's go and see if she's home, and get a look at her."
Sara seems confused, "You don't strike me as the poacher type."
Derleth clears his throat uncomfortably. "Ah...aye. And the woman we be seeking knows the area, apparently. One Wyvernjack by name."
Kyrel says, "Poacher? Hmm. No, not really. But they're not really wild animals, we've heard."
Vane says, "Nothing so vulgar. He said capture, not kill."
Sara says, "Ah, a job then..."
Glancing over his shoulder, the half-elf in considers. "Well, wern't their pelts worth five hundred a piece?"
Kyrel says, "Not to Basel, they're not."
Sara says, "I'm sure you can get a good deal more for them in the warmer areas. But again, you don't seem the types."
"Well, No...but if they have parents, and we have to put them down..." He shrugs. "Might as well pocket some extra."
Kyrel says, "It's a bit of a change from our last job, yes... but you take the money where you can get it."
Sara wandering up to the cabin, "What was your last job?"
Kyrel says, "Training a small-town militia."
Kaz dismounts, and tethers the reigns to his horse onto a tree branch. With little adue, the half-elf slips up to the front door, and gives a firm knock.
Vane says, "We aren't really the type for that, either."
Derleth says, "Sure, and what *do* we be the type for? I'd always thought we went where the winds of fate took us, getting our money where we could?"
Sara inhales as if she was going to say something, but after a moment of holding her breath she continues her silence.
From atop the cabin, a voice cuts in. "Your business?" The feminine voice isn't paticularly harsh, but to the point. A full, furred cloak practically hides features beneath. Within hand is a long-bow, arrow nooked yet not drawn, the not yet aimed.
Kyrel says, "Vane and I are students of the Art. Everything else is simply a means to that end."
Vane nods quiet agreement.
Kyrel looks up at the voice.
Derleth yeeps and raises his hands. "Don't be making kabobs of us, lady! We be looking to hire ye as a guide, if ye be Wyvernjack!"
Vane sighs, "She isn't aiming at you yet, Derleth."
Derleth says, "The quicker she lowers the bow, Vane, the safer I'll feel."
A faint chuckle rises from the figure upon the roof. "Yes, I'm Katya Wyvernjack. You're needing a guide to...?"
Kyrel says, "And therein lies the tale. We're on a search to capture a pair of winter-wolf cubs."
The figure dissappears. Several minutes pass by, before the door swings open. Dark red hair drifts about a face of average beauty, yet still better then several of the women in town. That face currently has a hard-set curiousity about it. Arms crossed under her cloak, "And why're you looking to take up winter pups?"
Derleth coughs, not meeting the woman's eyes. "Tis what we've been retained t' do, lady Wyvernjack."
Kyrel says, "For a collector. A rather eccentric individual, to be sure, but we think he'll treat them well."
Vane says, "A breeder. A conservationist, of a sort."
She nods, before smirking at Derleth. "It's Katya. If I were a 'lady', I wouldn't be bedecked in leathers and living like a hermit." She steps out of the door, gesturing in. "Well, come in, get out of the cold."
"But rein your horses first, or bring them around back to the little barn."
Kyrel says, "I think they'll be happier out of the wind, thank you." He dismounts and leads Maya around the back of the cabin. "Much obliged."
Derleth bows his head and hops off his pony, leading Platinum to the barn.
Vane says, "It is appreciated."
Sara follows around the back.
The inside of Katya's cottage isn't the most decorated. Rather homely, an area for preparation of food, table and chairs, a few weapons hung on the wall, as well as a freshly packed backpack. She leans against the edge of a table, eyeing the five.
Vane clasps his hands in front of himself, standing off to one side. Kai peers watchfully from a pocket.
Sara leans against the back wall, watching, listening.
The ranger tips her head. "So you want to storm into a wolf den, slay the parents and take up their brood?"
Derleth sits hunched in a chair, staring at his hands, and looking quite uncomfortable.
Derleth says, "Ah...nae, not precisely."
Kaz shakes his head. "Not if we can help it."
Katya nods, then considers after a moment. "Well...you'll not find any cubs, this time of year. The wolves are coming into season, right about now, so the youngest you'll find is a yearling. Not to mention, the only place you'll find them, is with the Frozen Axe clan."
Derleth doesn't look like he enjoys being the spokesperson in this instance, but he does so anyway. "If tis easier t' get what we need by guile than by a pitched battle, twould be well. Ah've no interest in getting frozen by a wolf's breath.
Kyrel says, "This is why we're interested in knowledgable assistance. The Frozen Axe Clan would probably not sell us a yearling or two, I suspect?"
Derleth grimaces. "Ah take it t'mean ye refer t' the frost giants we've heard about."
Sara seems to perk up at the sound of Frost Giants.
A faint smile finds her as the ranger regards Derleth. "Yes. And...I'm unsure. The wolves have a tendency to have a good-sized litter, and they have many of them as is; they'll likely let you take one...I'm unsure, though. It would take some talking to their Jarl." As an afterthought, "Tis good you caught me when you did; I was headed that way, myself."
Vane says, "Well then, by all means let us arrange for compensation and be on our way."
Sara says, "Yes, let's. Might I ask the distance of the destination?"
After raising a brow, she shrugs. "All right. Though, have yourselves prepared; we're moving into tribal lands before we get there." With that, she puts on her weapons belt, a sturdy quiver, and dual throwing axes mounted, as well as a beautifuly crafted battle-axe of dwarven making. "Two days north, along the base of the Ice Sword mountain range."
Derleth says, "We already be prepared la-...er, ah...we already be prepared."
Kyrel says, "How likely are the Frost Giants to dicker? If they're going to try to kill us anyway, I'd rather use stealth."
Kaz grins faintly, glancing toward Kyrel. "Well, I'm the one with the stealth under his belt, mind you."
Sara is the first to head out the door, peering down trying to hide a smile she mumbles under her breath, "I knew this would be exciting."
Vane straightens his dark glasses, and follows Sara to the door.
Pulling on her cloak and setting her bow, Katya looks up. "Hm? Oh, they're not hostile. They're at peace with us as is; on our side, in on the front, so to speak. Negotiating would be best, I think. And, if I were you, I wouldn't pick a fight."
Derleth says, "Nae picking a fight would be highly desirable."
Kyrel nods. "That was my impression, as well. Lead on then." He puts his cloak back on and heads back to the barn.
A day's ride north brings the six into deeper, more dense forest. The snow has been falling for some time now, and with the trees in full pine-needles, it's somewhat difficult to spot what lies aside and ahead.
Sara rides behind Derleth, watching the road ahead but glancing to the sides every so often.
Kaz, one hand on his cranked crossbow, the other on the reins, glances about from his point behind Katya. "I don't like this, too many places to hide."
Derleth rubs Platinum's neck as he feels the loyal pony shiver slightly in the cold. He seems to have grown accustomed to Sara's presence at least.
Vane rides along beside his brother, listening instead for sign of anything approaching.
The party moves through the woods in single file, Wyvernjack leading the way, followed by Kaz, Kyrel and Vane riding nearly abreast, Derleth, and Sara. The horses' breath steams in the cold air, and all sounds are muffled by the falling snow.
The path, a barely noticable way between the trees, has not yet yielded any troubles. However, that serene thought is broken by two whistling javelins, as they spear through the air on either side of the trail, coming from further up, one streaking straight for Katya, and the other speeding toward Sara.
Vane exhales softly, and begins unbuttoning his overcoat. "It's about time something like this happened."
The first, skidding over Katya's shoulder as she ducks, dissappears into the treeline. However, the second comes in on Sara, and strikes her firm in the side.
Kyrel says, "Oh, of course. Just lovely. Try not to set the forest on fire while we're in it, okay?"
Vane says, "I will do what I must."
Derleth acks! whirling his mount. "Sara!"
Kaz lifts his crossbow, aiming into the trees. He swears, and dismounts as with Katya. The ranger already has an arrow nocked, and is heading up the path.
Sara shrieks at the pain, and in warning to the rest, "Ambush!"
The faint sound of running feet -away- from the group is heard from up the trail.
Kyrel says, "Stay together. We pursue as a group, or they'll pick us off one by one."
Derleth reaches out without hesitation. "Hold still, Sara." he says, gritting his teeth as he slowly pulls out the javelin, murmuring a healing prayer to his goddess...
Sara helps the cleric pull the javelin out of her side painfully, then raises it, scanning the area as the healing spell takes effect.
Derleth smiles as his spell completely heals the wound over, though not the tear in Sara's armor.
Sara says, "Thank you good Derleth, now get close to the others out of harm's way."
Katya hisses as she stares over the path. "We have to find out where they've set down on, or they'll just pick at us and run."
Vane says, "They're dead regardless. Come on."
Derleth blinks and blushes as he comes out of healing trance. "Uhm...right. Come on then."
Kyrel says, "So far they're down two javelins for no good gain. Let's find them, but carefully."
Sara voice still ringing with pain, "Katya, lead on now. We can't let them get to far."
Derleth wheels Platinum and urges him after the others.
She nods, and slips into the woods alongside the trail. The path doesn't yield anything, but a small clearing is coming up ahead.
Kaz removes his scimitar, resting it on his lap, yet has the crossbow at ready.
Derleth pulls his flail out of his holster, scanning the woods with a knitted brow...
Vane adjusts the fit of his gloves, watching from beneath his hatbrim.
Sara reaches back over her shoulder with her right hand and grabs the two large metal rings of her spiked chain and brings it around while her left still hols the jabelin ready to be dat towards the first target.
Kyrel readies his bow for the moment, though he also has the components for some of his memorized spells secreted in different pockets on his person for quick access.
Derleth blinks at Sara's spiked chain. "I dinnae believe I've ever seen such a nasty looking weapon. I feel sorry fer anyone ye use that on."
Kyrel says, "I don't feel too sorry if they started it."
Vane says, "Now is no time for pity."
Out of the tree jumps a figure, which slams into Derleth's horse. He bounces off, and nearly falls on his backside, but the axe in his hand is at the ready. Nearly at the same time, from further up, another one jumps and slams into Kaz full on.
Vane says, "Ten."
The one jumping toward Kaz gets a nasty slice from the half-elf as the scimitar is barely brought to bear, but the elf and his attacker come crashing to the ground. The horse gives a whinnied cry and starts off into the woods.
Derleth shouts out a warcry and lashes out with his holy flail, while Sara swings off of her mount, loosing her javelin at the foe!
The young, fur-draped human jerks back and screams in pain, as Derleth's flail crashes into his shoulder and the javelin pierces his thigh. His voice is a roar, screaming something in draconic. His cry is fierce, an utter roar that escapes his throat, as the axe in hand comes up to swing at Derleth's mounted form. The axe skids along Derleth's armor. However, even as he misses, his fellow tribesmen on the cleric's other side joins him in the battle cry. The reptillian tongue is a chorus of roaring, and his own blade whistles in at the downed half-elf. The axe misses the half-elf, burying itself in the ground. A twirling hammer is thrown by yet another tribesman, coming in on Vane's right.
Sara screams, "Derleth, get out of there!"
Derleth snarls and makes a vocal command, at which Platinum whinnies, rearing up and attacking the human with steel-shod hooves.
In comes the hammer, connecting with the mage's shoulder and clipping off. An arrow whistles in from Katya's position, making a line for the fool atop Kaz.
Vane takes the hammer behind his shoulder, tumbling off of his horse and into the snow. Vane makes no noise, except to stand, brush the snow from his shoulders, and declare calmly, "Congratulations. You get to be first."
The arrow stabs the young one's back, and he's nearly pitched forward as the arrow releases a sharp crack of sound. However, as Platinum rears up, the pony's hoof connects viciously with the screaming youth. It cracks into his forehead, spattering red across the snow as he falls. Kaz, spitting venom, comes up, scimitar leading. The blade comes up in a sharp slash right across the fur-decked axe-wielder.
Vane reaches into a side pouch at his belt, and comes up with a small glass rod and a bit of fur. Rubbing both together in his left hand, he begins to gesticulate with sharp, precise movements with his right. A spark, then another, and then a wild arc of electricity bursts from Vane's left hand and races along to his upraised right. He turns toward the treeline, where another enemy appears ready to burst from cover. Dare to strike me from behind... you'll suffer for that. Pointing, he utters the final syllables to complete the spell, and the crackling blue-white arc leaps across the distance to the target.
The arch of lightning sizzles through the treeline, and blows the barbarian from his feet, and into a tree. The bolt has enough power to cut into the tree, as well. With a horrible *crunch*, the tree begins to fall toward the group, prevented only by the thickness of the forest. It collides with an adjacent tree, and the merged branches of those on its sides keep it barely supported above the trail.
Kyrel dismounts and aims an arrow at the remaining ambusher. He shifts to the Draconic tongue himself, and asks, "What did you attack us for?"
Derleth wheels Platinum, lifting his flail to the ready, helping the others present a unified front.
The youth, his furs soaked in blood from his stomach, is obviously not thinking with rational thought. Despite the obvious pain, the arrow protruding from his back, he just snarls at Kyrel, axe held nearly at ready for it's decent.
Kyrel says, "Have it your way, then." He releases the arrow."
The arrow whizzes in, and takes the boy in the chest. He's not even to the ground before the shrub beside Kyrel bursts, stepping from it's foilage an imposing figure. Tattoos lining flesh, teeth-adorned necklace about, aswell as the skull of some feline predator atop his head. However, magic is all about him; tangible force withering over his form in a sense of armor, but the most disturbing are bristling quill-like spikes jutting from exposed flesh. A war hammer of exquisit taste is clutched in hand, and it would still be imposing, without the flames which crawl across it's surface. A fierce, angry glare is fixed on Kyrel, and Vane, for that matter, as the spiked hulk takes menacing steps, before kicking in and nearing.
From a treebranch along the way, in whirls a weapon, which viciously strikes Vane's ankles and twining about, nearly knocking the elf from his feet.
Vane totters, and staggers backwards, kicking at the bola. "Someone's going to di-ieee...." He mutters in a sing-song voice.
Derleth eyes the feral attacker with chagrin, but unhesitatingly thrusts out an open palm, chanting words of holy power. His palm glows, and a ray of searing light shoots out towards it.
Sara says, "nice nice"
The charging porcupine of a man is scorched across the hip, but he keeps on going, intent on putting one of the elf-kin under his hammer.
With a great burst of speed Sara darts around Kyrel, intently watching the flaming warhammer the whole time. She slips behind keeping out of his reach ash she trusts her spiked chain forward looking to dislodge from the mans hand. She shouts, "You won't be needing that!"
The chain wraps around the weapon's haft, and the electricity jumps up the shaft, but it's allready been drawn from the lout's hands. However, the inconvenience doesn't stop him, those bristled spikes all the weapons that he needs.
Katya unhooks her own axe and moves in, sidling beside Kaz to close in on the charging bull. Shooting that bow into the throng of people wouldn't be the best of intentions.
Derleth doesn't immediately realize this, and cheers Sara's actions!
Vane rolls about in the snow, struggling with the bonds, and uttering a mellifluous string of lilting syllables that, to the trained ear, registers as a stream of shocking vulgarity, occasionally breaking into Common to bark, "I'll burn him alive, I'll burn him alive, I'll burn him alive!!"
Kyrel drops his bow and moves back while chanting the syllables of magic. Bolts of force fly from his fingers, impacting the shamanistic figure. The bolts smack into the rushing barbarian, but they don't stop him. He shrieks in utter rage and fury, something from deep within, almost a roar, and lashes his arm at the half-elf in a vicious swing. His forearm streaks in, connecting with Kyrel's shoulder, sinking the quills deep into the flesh, before jerking them free.
From the same source as the bola, a javelin flies in and plants itself not far from Vane's forearm.
Vane rrrrghs. "...you're going to pay for that..."
Derleth's eyes tighten as he sees Kyrel being mauled by quills. Spurring Platinum, he charges to the attack, swinging his flail! The flail swings in, and cracks into the magic-containing Barbarian's back, snapping quills off with the strike.
Sara steps up behind the big man, "You came after the wrong group, big boy" spits out as she swings her spiked chain in a deadly arc towards the man.
His body arches and jerks with the pain running through his system, electricity crackling on the ends of the quills near the chain.
Katya and Kaz move in cautiously, both setting up and taking aim to hit.
The blades bite deep into the hulk's back and side, Katya's axe nearly stuck in his ribs. He sputters and falls, the quills digging into the ground as he hits it. Blood turns the snow crimson, and the magically called armor, as with those bristles seem to melt away with the flowing lifeblood.
About fifteen feet off, a slim figure drops out of the trees, crying a moment, before attempting to start in a run further into the woods.
Vane snarls quietly, still entangled tightly, and finally gives up on his struggle. He sits upright, facing the treeline, and fishes a pinch of sand out of his spell pouch. Hissing a few quiet syllables, he blows the dust into the treeline.
Vane says, "Bastard..."
Kyrel puts away the components he'd readied for a color spray. "Shall we ask the boy what the heck that was all about?
Kaz stares down at the dead one which was obvoiusly the 'leader', before glancing up. "Think they have anything worth taking on them?"
Sara turns to Derleth, "Are you alright?"
Vane hrmns. "Kyrel, help me here, will you?"
Derleth hops down from Platinum with a smile. "Nary a scratch. Ye?"
Sara seems to relax a bit after she realizes that Darleth is okay, "I"m alright..." She walks over and picks up the warhammer the big man dropped. Flames flicker across the hammer.
Derleth moves over to the mages. "Ye all right? I thought I saw Kyrel at least get a wicked hit by that spiny beast..."
Kyrel says, "It only hurts when I move. What the heck was that spell? I've never seen the like of it before."
Vane says, "A psionic discipline, perhaps. I've read something of the technique. I'd be delighted to tell you more if you'd be so kind as to untie me."
Sara studies the flaming weapon, attempting to release and invoke the powers of the flame as she wanders back to collect her mount.
Katya moves forward, eyeing the bodies, and hisses. "I'm surprised there's not more magic-filled bastards with them. This one," She kicks the skull and teeth bedecked body at their feet, "seems the only one with the strong enough dragon blood."
Derleth nods to Kyrel. "Allow me..." He lays a hand on him and chants to Lliara...
Kyrel says, "Dragon blood?" He looks up from where he's helping Vane untangle the bola from his legs. "You mean they're not just crazy cultists?"
Kaz rubs his hip, grumbling. "That idiot had the audacity to knock me off my horse before he went down...speaking of which, where is my horse?" he looks up.
Vane tsks, standing up carefully. "Dragon's blood. A rumor started by sorcerors to romanticize their mutation."
Derleth hums a mystic chant as the half-elf's wounds seal over. "Anyone else need Lliara's healing touch?"
Sara can be seen collecting the horses and heading back to the group.
A brow raised, Katya eyes Kyrel a moment. "Cultist? No, the tribes around here are rich with dragon blood."
Kaz frowns, seeing that his horse is not among the gathered, since it had started into the trees at the first of the fight.
Katya moves toward Sara, regarding the flaming weapon, then nods. "Figures."
Derleth says, "Vane, ye okay? Need healing?"
Sara questions, "Figures? What figures?"
Vane hmms, giving the end of the bola an idle twirl. "I'm fine, Derleth. Katya? Can you track that stray horse?"
She guestures to the hammer. "Dwarf made."
Kyrel says, "Rich how with dragon blood?"
Vane bends down to pick up his hat. He settles the bola across his shoulders, and brushes the snow from the brim.
Sara obviously still focused on the weapon she addresses Kaz, "Is it your mount that is missing? Did you see what direction it went, I'll see if I can run it down."
Turning to regard Vane, "Well, of course I can. However, you want me to go -deeper- into these woods, and more then likely headed right into the direction of a more organized group?" She gestures to the bodies. "This was most likely a hunting and scouting party that got lucky seeing us far down the road and then prepared.
Derleth says, "Ye sure? It looked like ye took a nasty knock on the head when that twirly thing took ye off your feet."
Vane waves a hand. "I'm fine. See to the horse... let's not lose any more time here."
Kaz shakes his head, but the ranger taps her chin. "I believe it went that way," Pointing off into the woods to the left. She stoops and scoops up the hammer which had been thrown, and shakes her head. "As I figured, dwarf." Clipping it onto her belt, she looks up to Kyrel. "Did you ask something?"
Kyrel says, "We need to find the horse, but we also need to talk about this dragon blood thing, Katya."
Derleth nods and goes over to Platinum. "Let me see yer hoof boy." he says to the pony as he crouches down to clean off the blood from when he brained one of the attackers.
Vane says, "It's a myth, brother. A story told by kobolds and sorcerors to justify themselves."
Sara looking off into the woods, "If need be he can use mine, I can keep up, although I'll need to stop and warm my feet every now and then, but I'll see if I can't get the horse"
The tracks lead steadily northwest deeper into the woods. Katya frowns. "I do know that the humanoid tribes, as well as the barbarians, are gifted with a lot of arcane abilities. I don't know that much about it, but the Frozen Axe Jarl will most likely know exactly the cause."
Sara takes off with a speed beyond humans following the trail the spooked horse had left.
Derleth blinks. "Quite a quick lil' vixen, ain't she..."
Kyrel says, "Hmmm. Little?"
Derleth blushes. "Well...metaphorically speaking, Ky."
Vane replaces his hat. "It's her boots," he says drily.
Katya mounts her horse, and waits. Sara returns with the still-jittery horse not long after.
Derleth says, "Her boots make her smaller? Ah'd have t' disagree."
Derleth promptly shuts up once Sara returns.
Vane gives Derleth a withering look, even from behind his dark lenses. "They make her faster, addlepate."
Sara says, "Your horse Kaz..."
Kyrel puts his hood back up over his head and pretends not to hear.
Derleth looks embarassed. "Oh."
The half-elf grins, "Thanks." The temptation to add 'vixen' to that is quite large, but he manages to resist. He climbs atop the animal after sheathing his scimitar.
Vane straightens his hat. "I know the means to make such items. I could make you a pair. If you wished to... catch up, or something."
Katya looks up. "Shall we keep moving?"
Kyrel nods. "Let's, before the little guy gets back with his buddies.
Sara straightens her clothing, gathers her backpack and gracefully swings her spiked chain around her back where she attaches the two large rings to the hooks that fall slightly down her back. She then mounts her horse and sits ready to move out, flaming warhammer still in hand.
Vane takes to the saddle again, dusting himself off, and spurs his horse. "Let's be off. We'd best find a better place to make camp. The sun will be down soon."
Derleth remounts Platinum after cleaning his hoof, and spurrs him into motion. "Aye. Off we go."
Sara slowly rides over to the downed large man, then slips off her horse for one final task. She hoists the warhammer into the air, leans down, and brings it down on the skull of its former owner. The skull collapses with a sickening crack, splashing ichor and blood across the snow.
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