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Episode 1: Arrival at Greenest
- Thread starter Tiko
- Start date
The sun was beginning to sink low in the sky as the caravan trundled its way ever closer to its destination, the town of Greenest. It had been just shy of a week since its departure from the city of Berdusk, and many where eager to reach their destination. With rumors of attacks on outlying settlements and towns spreading, the large town of Greenest offered the promise of security that the open road did not.
The caravan was modest in size, with six horse drawn wagons and carriages, and a handful of armed guards hired on as escort. There was no uniformity to these guards, but many were easily recognizable by their assortments of armor and weaponry. Three of the six carriages where owned by Zudan Tardask, a merchant of only minor wealth, who was in charge of the caravan security. The other three carried simple travelers making their way to Greenest and were primarily comprised of small families looking for a new beginning away from city life, or individuals looking to leave a life behind.
As their destination grew nearer many had opted to depart the wagons in favor of walking alongside the caravan to stretch their legs, and the sound of a few young children could be heard playing as they ran alongside the road's edges and darted it and out of the open grassy fields that lay on either side of the road. At their current pace, the caravan would reach Greenest shortly after sunset.
The caravan was modest in size, with six horse drawn wagons and carriages, and a handful of armed guards hired on as escort. There was no uniformity to these guards, but many were easily recognizable by their assortments of armor and weaponry. Three of the six carriages where owned by Zudan Tardask, a merchant of only minor wealth, who was in charge of the caravan security. The other three carried simple travelers making their way to Greenest and were primarily comprised of small families looking for a new beginning away from city life, or individuals looking to leave a life behind.
As their destination grew nearer many had opted to depart the wagons in favor of walking alongside the caravan to stretch their legs, and the sound of a few young children could be heard playing as they ran alongside the road's edges and darted it and out of the open grassy fields that lay on either side of the road. At their current pace, the caravan would reach Greenest shortly after sunset.
Saliferous Eric
Member
Zarros's light hearted demeanor seemed to be especially cheerful on that day, presumably at the prospect of reaching their destination. Zarros walked alongside the caravan keeping mostly to himself which was notably uncharacteristic of him compared to their progress thus far. When he saw the children coming out to play Zarros pulled out his flute and began playing an upbeat merry tune that in his experience was usually popular with children. Zarros was clearly not a professional musician by any standards, but his playing wasn't terrible either. Zarros walked along with a bounce in his step as he played his flute. He was clearly enjoying his last hours on this trip to Greenest
Reaver cut an imposing figure as it walked alongside the third wagon. At just about six-and-a-half feet tall of glistening steel, it was hard to hide from prying eyes. Not that Reaver particularly tried to do so. So far on the trip, most of the travelers seemed to avoid Reaver, and even the other bodyguards spoke to it only to hammer out detail work, such as who was to stand guard overnight and when. Still, none of the avoidance was hostile, per se. A Warforged in Faerun was rare--so rare, in fact, that Reaver was pretty sure it was the only one.
As such, most people here seemed to regard Reaver as a golem, and such profanities were usually met with fear by the common rabble.
As the setting sun painted Reaver's steel skin with pinks and purples and the voices of children could be heard, Reaver started to move in toward the wagon, though. It had no intent of disrupting whatever peace there was here with the blatant racism with which it was normally met. Hard as it was to hide, Reaver did not want to draw more attention than necessary.
Still, the flautist somewhere behind it started a tune, and if Reaver could have smiled, it would have. Cheerful music always made Reaver happy.
As such, most people here seemed to regard Reaver as a golem, and such profanities were usually met with fear by the common rabble.
As the setting sun painted Reaver's steel skin with pinks and purples and the voices of children could be heard, Reaver started to move in toward the wagon, though. It had no intent of disrupting whatever peace there was here with the blatant racism with which it was normally met. Hard as it was to hide, Reaver did not want to draw more attention than necessary.
Still, the flautist somewhere behind it started a tune, and if Reaver could have smiled, it would have. Cheerful music always made Reaver happy.
A week from home, and it already felt a lifetime away. The thing about growing up behind city walls was that the world felt small, right up until the moment you stepped out into it, and it just kept going. There was something unquestionably freeing about gazing out into the distance and seeing nothing but rolling hills and grassy fields as far as the eye could see - not a decrepit shack or looming fortress in sight to mar the view. It made Theo wonder why he'd never thought to do this before.
The answer wasn't far to find. As freeing as the great unknown was, it was just that: unknown. He had no earthly idea what was around the next turn or over the next hill, save from what the other travelers had told him. Not like home, where he could tell you the eighteen different routes to get from Alamather's by the Water up to the Bellblade Throne, how long each of them would take you, and what times of day you had to watch for the guards doing their rounds along each way.
Theo didn't like not knowing everything he could expect, in the same instant that he loved it. It was dangerous, but it was exciting. Like the thrill of a risky job, but in smaller doses every time they turned a corner. Still, he'd never have taken the dive and found out how much he enjoyed it (despite his better judgment) if he hadn't been forced to. So he supposed some good things did come of having a price on your head, sometimes.
Now there was a thought he'd have a hard time explaining.
As the day waned, Theo was - as he'd spent much of the journey - perched on the edge of the frontmost wagon, legs dangling down over the road. His pack was sat next to him, one cord still carefully looped around his arm that he might sling it over his shoulder at a moment's notice. The young sorcerer was busying himself in a familiar fashion - performing magic tricks to entertain the small gaggle of children that were trotting alongside his cart.
A shimmering dragon formed of sparks burst to life from his palm, flying a few feet into the air and unleashing a shower of glittering dust from its tiny maw. The sparkling motes drifted down onto the little ones below, to their delight, and they fell over themselves trying to catch them from the air to no avail.
"Awh, nobody got any?" he lamented, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Dang, I guess that means no wishes for you guys today. Better luck next time?"
"It's impossible, mister!" one of the older girls - called Annie, if he recalled correctly - protested with a huff. "I had one right in my hand and it went straight through!"
"Well," Theo regarded her with a grin. "If it were easy, then how could anyone expect to get a wish out of it? The world would be a very messy place if everyone got a wish just like that," he snapped his fingers in time with the word, creating another burst of sparks. "Still, I'd hate for you to feel cheated, little miss, so how 'bout I strike you a deal?"
"What's that then?" Annie questioned, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"If you keep your wish something small, like, say... making your rations taste like candied apples, I can give you that one as a freebie."
The offer was quickly followed by a chorus of protests and pleas from the others, but Theo was quick to quiet them. "Ah ah ah! No wheedling needed! I suppose if Annie's feeling generous, she could ask for me to make everyone's rations taste like something nicer. How about it?"
The older girl glanced around at her peers as though carefully considering the question, clearly enjoying the sudden position of power she held over them. After a moment though, she nodded - benevolent dictator that she was. "A'right, I suppose."
The chorus shifted to cheers and woops, and each of the kids started yelling out what they wanted their rations to taste like, while Theo just laughed and sat back, resting one arm atop his bag and watching the chaos with a grin.
He could get used to being a celebrity like this. It was a shame that people past their childhood years were a shade more cynical. If they weren't giving him the stink-eye for witchcraft, they were rolling their eyes dismissively at his parlor tricks. He supposed that there was no pleasing everyone, and for now, he'd be happy with his decidedly-easy-to-please crowd of under-twelves. They'd certainly kept the days from being boring thus far.
The answer wasn't far to find. As freeing as the great unknown was, it was just that: unknown. He had no earthly idea what was around the next turn or over the next hill, save from what the other travelers had told him. Not like home, where he could tell you the eighteen different routes to get from Alamather's by the Water up to the Bellblade Throne, how long each of them would take you, and what times of day you had to watch for the guards doing their rounds along each way.
Theo didn't like not knowing everything he could expect, in the same instant that he loved it. It was dangerous, but it was exciting. Like the thrill of a risky job, but in smaller doses every time they turned a corner. Still, he'd never have taken the dive and found out how much he enjoyed it (despite his better judgment) if he hadn't been forced to. So he supposed some good things did come of having a price on your head, sometimes.
Now there was a thought he'd have a hard time explaining.
As the day waned, Theo was - as he'd spent much of the journey - perched on the edge of the frontmost wagon, legs dangling down over the road. His pack was sat next to him, one cord still carefully looped around his arm that he might sling it over his shoulder at a moment's notice. The young sorcerer was busying himself in a familiar fashion - performing magic tricks to entertain the small gaggle of children that were trotting alongside his cart.
A shimmering dragon formed of sparks burst to life from his palm, flying a few feet into the air and unleashing a shower of glittering dust from its tiny maw. The sparkling motes drifted down onto the little ones below, to their delight, and they fell over themselves trying to catch them from the air to no avail.
"Awh, nobody got any?" he lamented, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Dang, I guess that means no wishes for you guys today. Better luck next time?"
"It's impossible, mister!" one of the older girls - called Annie, if he recalled correctly - protested with a huff. "I had one right in my hand and it went straight through!"
"Well," Theo regarded her with a grin. "If it were easy, then how could anyone expect to get a wish out of it? The world would be a very messy place if everyone got a wish just like that," he snapped his fingers in time with the word, creating another burst of sparks. "Still, I'd hate for you to feel cheated, little miss, so how 'bout I strike you a deal?"
"What's that then?" Annie questioned, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"If you keep your wish something small, like, say... making your rations taste like candied apples, I can give you that one as a freebie."
The offer was quickly followed by a chorus of protests and pleas from the others, but Theo was quick to quiet them. "Ah ah ah! No wheedling needed! I suppose if Annie's feeling generous, she could ask for me to make everyone's rations taste like something nicer. How about it?"
The older girl glanced around at her peers as though carefully considering the question, clearly enjoying the sudden position of power she held over them. After a moment though, she nodded - benevolent dictator that she was. "A'right, I suppose."
The chorus shifted to cheers and woops, and each of the kids started yelling out what they wanted their rations to taste like, while Theo just laughed and sat back, resting one arm atop his bag and watching the chaos with a grin.
He could get used to being a celebrity like this. It was a shame that people past their childhood years were a shade more cynical. If they weren't giving him the stink-eye for witchcraft, they were rolling their eyes dismissively at his parlor tricks. He supposed that there was no pleasing everyone, and for now, he'd be happy with his decidedly-easy-to-please crowd of under-twelves. They'd certainly kept the days from being boring thus far.
Halfdan paced about half a mile away from the caravan, finishing his final rounds and making sure their rear flank was safe. Today was their arrival day, making this his last turn at rear-watch.
Halfdan squinted towards the fading sun, raising one thumb towards the sky as he walked.
By his reckoning, there was just about an hour of sunlight left. It was to be their last evening on the road, so no communal stew today, which meant his pack was a bit lighter as he wasn’t hauling along a brace of hares today.
He quickened his pace, settling into a mindless rhythm to catch back up to the caravan.
As he droned on, his mind wandered, bringing him back to the events that had brought him here today. It had been about nine days before that the letter came. He had been off in a hamlet of little renown about a half day’s horse ride from the Uldoon Trail. He’d arrived there four days prior, following a tip that there was trouble in the hamlet.
He had no idea who the group behind the attack of the Monastery was or where else they might strike. But if they struck one backwater, the least he could do was keep a watch on another. If there were people to protect and aid, that was technically his balliwig now. Sort of.
So he had been in the middle of nowhere, where he found that some farmers suspected some kobolds were stealing their livestock. Some sort of creatures anyhow, as some of their strapping young men had broken their legs trying to give chase.
It was good practice for his new abilities and may even have been related to his vow in a very roundabout sort of way, so Halfdan stuck around for a few days. He helped mend fences, laid hands on some people, and prepared to lead a group of the bravest pitchfork wielders to be found to seek the kobolds the following day.
But before he could set out an adventurer came by, bearing a letter and asking for him by name. It cost him a couple of silvers from his dwindling purse, but he repaid the adventurer for the delivery and set to writing. Half an hour later, he wished the farmers good luck and set off for the Uldoon trail.
There was a greater evil to be sought, Kobolds be damned.
Halfdan snapped back out of his reverie as he passed the rearmost wagon in the caravan. The ever so slightly discordant music emanating from the fiend’s flute clashed against his remembrance.
Well...not a fiend in the technical sense, Halfdan had to admit. His divine sense had already told him otherwise. Still, he wasn’t sure just what he was, so he’d been keeping an eye on it. Halfdan hadn’t decided if the merry contented way it went about the day to day was a ruse or not.
He quickly had to discard the thought and suppress the reflex to draw his halberd as he neared the third wagon however. He disguised his startle reflex with a cordial nod in the direction of the...well, Halfdan hadn’t yet asked what was the polite term for it. Everyone else whispered golem, but that’d be one weird as hell one from anything Halfdan had ever read.
Still for all of that, Halfdan thought the...whatever it was pretty good natured. Yet another case where his expectations had been subverted.
It was as he neared the foremost wagon, ready to make his report to Zudan the wagon-master and noticed the last afterglow of magical sparks that Halfdan spotted the one that actually seemed the most suspicious of the bunch.
The average height, small frame, and furtive way he always seemed ready to enact a quick exit struck Halfdan as the one everyone ought to be watching. Still...his divine sense hadn’t went off there too.
Maybe he was a young braggart as he suspected.
With an aimless shrug at no-one in particular, Halfdan walked past the mass of enticed children giggling and neared the driver’s side of the caravan.
Keeping pace with the slowly trudging horses, Halfdan called out loudly to be heard over the din; “Oi, caravan master. Rear flank is clear.”
Halfdan squinted towards the fading sun, raising one thumb towards the sky as he walked.
By his reckoning, there was just about an hour of sunlight left. It was to be their last evening on the road, so no communal stew today, which meant his pack was a bit lighter as he wasn’t hauling along a brace of hares today.
He quickened his pace, settling into a mindless rhythm to catch back up to the caravan.
As he droned on, his mind wandered, bringing him back to the events that had brought him here today. It had been about nine days before that the letter came. He had been off in a hamlet of little renown about a half day’s horse ride from the Uldoon Trail. He’d arrived there four days prior, following a tip that there was trouble in the hamlet.
He had no idea who the group behind the attack of the Monastery was or where else they might strike. But if they struck one backwater, the least he could do was keep a watch on another. If there were people to protect and aid, that was technically his balliwig now. Sort of.
So he had been in the middle of nowhere, where he found that some farmers suspected some kobolds were stealing their livestock. Some sort of creatures anyhow, as some of their strapping young men had broken their legs trying to give chase.
It was good practice for his new abilities and may even have been related to his vow in a very roundabout sort of way, so Halfdan stuck around for a few days. He helped mend fences, laid hands on some people, and prepared to lead a group of the bravest pitchfork wielders to be found to seek the kobolds the following day.
But before he could set out an adventurer came by, bearing a letter and asking for him by name. It cost him a couple of silvers from his dwindling purse, but he repaid the adventurer for the delivery and set to writing. Half an hour later, he wished the farmers good luck and set off for the Uldoon trail.
There was a greater evil to be sought, Kobolds be damned.
Halfdan snapped back out of his reverie as he passed the rearmost wagon in the caravan. The ever so slightly discordant music emanating from the fiend’s flute clashed against his remembrance.
Well...not a fiend in the technical sense, Halfdan had to admit. His divine sense had already told him otherwise. Still, he wasn’t sure just what he was, so he’d been keeping an eye on it. Halfdan hadn’t decided if the merry contented way it went about the day to day was a ruse or not.
He quickly had to discard the thought and suppress the reflex to draw his halberd as he neared the third wagon however. He disguised his startle reflex with a cordial nod in the direction of the...well, Halfdan hadn’t yet asked what was the polite term for it. Everyone else whispered golem, but that’d be one weird as hell one from anything Halfdan had ever read.
Still for all of that, Halfdan thought the...whatever it was pretty good natured. Yet another case where his expectations had been subverted.
It was as he neared the foremost wagon, ready to make his report to Zudan the wagon-master and noticed the last afterglow of magical sparks that Halfdan spotted the one that actually seemed the most suspicious of the bunch.
The average height, small frame, and furtive way he always seemed ready to enact a quick exit struck Halfdan as the one everyone ought to be watching. Still...his divine sense hadn’t went off there too.
Maybe he was a young braggart as he suspected.
With an aimless shrug at no-one in particular, Halfdan walked past the mass of enticed children giggling and neared the driver’s side of the caravan.
Keeping pace with the slowly trudging horses, Halfdan called out loudly to be heard over the din; “Oi, caravan master. Rear flank is clear.”
The way their most dedicated overachiever's eyes lingered on Theo didn't escape his notice. If he hadn't known better, he might have mistaken it for something else. Or not. There wasn't really any mistaking the suspicion in eyes like that. He'd met it many times before, in guardsmen, tavern-keeps, passing clergymen...
He really had to figure out how to avoid giving the impression of being someone whose hand dipped too often into other peoples' pockets.
It made it much more difficult to pull it off.
Still, out here, he wasn't so sorely in need of the extra coin that he'd risk earning the ire of his travelling companions. That meant that unlike under most circumstances, he and the stiff-seeming warrior weren't natural enemies. For now, at least. And that meant the floor was more open for fun. It was always fun trying to find buttons to push on the more stoic types.
"Good work as always, Ser Knight," he called over to the other young man, flashing a bright smile his way with only the barest hint of mischief hiding behind his eyes. "I know I, at least, feel better for having your watchful gaze so diligently trained upon my rear."
He really had to figure out how to avoid giving the impression of being someone whose hand dipped too often into other peoples' pockets.
It made it much more difficult to pull it off.
Still, out here, he wasn't so sorely in need of the extra coin that he'd risk earning the ire of his travelling companions. That meant that unlike under most circumstances, he and the stiff-seeming warrior weren't natural enemies. For now, at least. And that meant the floor was more open for fun. It was always fun trying to find buttons to push on the more stoic types.
"Good work as always, Ser Knight," he called over to the other young man, flashing a bright smile his way with only the barest hint of mischief hiding behind his eyes. "I know I, at least, feel better for having your watchful gaze so diligently trained upon my rear."
Halfdan half turned towards the braggart’s voice. His face creased and his lips tightened as he furrowed his brow. It was an involuntary reflex, and while it may have looked like anger at a glance...it was in fact consternation.
His lips opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. Just what in the nine hells was a fella supposed to reply to that?
His response came several beats too slow to pass for anything resembling wit.
“I wasn’t...It’s not,” he stammered out. “I wasn’t watching your rear. It’s not like it’s a great behind or anything. Wait. That’s not what I meant.”
Halfdan’s response cut short as he snorted out in annoyance and turned his back towards the young man.
“As I was saying, Master Zudan,” called out Halfdan, voice slightly affronted as he picked up pace to catch back up to the horse. “All clear from...behind.”
He gritted teeth at the unintended word choice. It just sounded stupid now.
His lips opened and closed a few times like a fish out of water. Just what in the nine hells was a fella supposed to reply to that?
His response came several beats too slow to pass for anything resembling wit.
“I wasn’t...It’s not,” he stammered out. “I wasn’t watching your rear. It’s not like it’s a great behind or anything. Wait. That’s not what I meant.”
Halfdan’s response cut short as he snorted out in annoyance and turned his back towards the young man.
“As I was saying, Master Zudan,” called out Halfdan, voice slightly affronted as he picked up pace to catch back up to the horse. “All clear from...behind.”
He gritted teeth at the unintended word choice. It just sounded stupid now.
Theo couldn't have asked for a better response if he'd scripted it. The dumbfounded expression, the clumsy retort, the continued awkwardness over anything referring to a backwards direction... it was all he could do to keep the majority of his amusement internalised. The stoic sorts were always the most fun to tease. He only hoped this one stuck around Greenest for long enough to get some more sport out of him.
"I don't think anyone mentioned anything about it being great, my friend. Those are your words alone," Theo replied with a broad grin and a wink, calling after Halfdan's retreating back. "I appreciate the compliment!"
There was no response, the young having already firmly closed the book on their little interaction. But that was alright, Theo thought. He'd leave him alone for now, but he'd be damned if he wasn't placing a mental bookmark there for when he next saw the opportunity to have some fun.
"I don't think anyone mentioned anything about it being great, my friend. Those are your words alone," Theo replied with a broad grin and a wink, calling after Halfdan's retreating back. "I appreciate the compliment!"
There was no response, the young having already firmly closed the book on their little interaction. But that was alright, Theo thought. He'd leave him alone for now, but he'd be damned if he wasn't placing a mental bookmark there for when he next saw the opportunity to have some fun.
Meanwhile Zuldan simply let out a chortled snort. An attempt perhaps to wave off the childish antics, but it was only marginally successful given Halfdan's flustered response.
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "We'll be there by nightfall, or soon after," he answered. "Don't expect any trouble this close to town. Go ahead and take a rest if you want."
He cleared his throat before he spoke. "We'll be there by nightfall, or soon after," he answered. "Don't expect any trouble this close to town. Go ahead and take a rest if you want."
As the caravan trundled its way down the road, the sun was all but set beneath the horizon. The sounds of children at play had been quieted as parents had rounded the youngsters back up into the wagons so as to not lose anyone in the dark. The anticipation remained though, and none slept.
The distant glow of the town was the first sign of their destination, though perhaps more so than expected. The peculiar brightness of it only grew more disconcerting as the caravan drew nearer and nearer. The horses were perhaps the first to sense something amiss - perhaps the distant smell of smoke on the wind - and their normally calm demeanor was now disturbed by the occasional snort, toss of their head, and general antsy movements.
“Whoa,” said Zuldan as he reigned his horses in. “Bring the horses up!” he hollered so those behind him would know to bring their wagons to a halt as well.
Columns of black smoke could be seen rising from the town in the distance, and occasional dots of movement in the streets could be detected through the glows cast by fires. At their current distance - a few miles out yet - it was impossible to make anything out of the figures running through the streets but a dark, winged shape wheeled low over the keep that stood tall over the center of the town. The shape was unmistakably that of a dragon.
“Shit,” Zuldan muttered under his breath.
The distant glow of the town was the first sign of their destination, though perhaps more so than expected. The peculiar brightness of it only grew more disconcerting as the caravan drew nearer and nearer. The horses were perhaps the first to sense something amiss - perhaps the distant smell of smoke on the wind - and their normally calm demeanor was now disturbed by the occasional snort, toss of their head, and general antsy movements.
“Whoa,” said Zuldan as he reigned his horses in. “Bring the horses up!” he hollered so those behind him would know to bring their wagons to a halt as well.
Columns of black smoke could be seen rising from the town in the distance, and occasional dots of movement in the streets could be detected through the glows cast by fires. At their current distance - a few miles out yet - it was impossible to make anything out of the figures running through the streets but a dark, winged shape wheeled low over the keep that stood tall over the center of the town. The shape was unmistakably that of a dragon.
“Shit,” Zuldan muttered under his breath.
Reaver noticed that the beasts pulling the cart beside itwere growing restless. They were frequently braying and shaking their heads, but were clearly well-trained; they continued on with minimal prodding. It was a few moments before it realized the cause, and Reaver drew to a halt even before the caravan master halted the wagons.
The sight before it for some reason drew images of Baator, the Nine Hells to its mind. A blazing inferno besieged their destination, and Reaver could barely make out the silhouette of a dragon circling the city.
Reaver sprang into a run. It knew from its limited experience that things like this needed a plan. And the person most capable of making a plan, in Reaver's mind, was the caravan master. So it sprinted to the front of the now-still caravan.
"Master Zuldan!" the warforged called out. To many in the caravan, this might have been the first time they'd heard the barbarian's voice. "What shall we do now? The caravan is surely safest where it is for the time being, but the people will need a place to rest." It paused momentarily, considering the options. There was no hair upon its steel chin, obviously, but still it rubbed its fingers and thumb along the ridge, as though stroking a beard. "Shall we send a scouting party to save what souls we can and to gather intel to determine the next course of action? Or should we turn about, find a way around, and move on to another city?"
Reaver paused again, pondering how much life has already been lost here, in Greenest, and how much more was to come. "You hired me to protect the caravan, but still I want to help out here. Who knows how many souls we could save?"
The sight before it for some reason drew images of Baator, the Nine Hells to its mind. A blazing inferno besieged their destination, and Reaver could barely make out the silhouette of a dragon circling the city.
Reaver sprang into a run. It knew from its limited experience that things like this needed a plan. And the person most capable of making a plan, in Reaver's mind, was the caravan master. So it sprinted to the front of the now-still caravan.
"Master Zuldan!" the warforged called out. To many in the caravan, this might have been the first time they'd heard the barbarian's voice. "What shall we do now? The caravan is surely safest where it is for the time being, but the people will need a place to rest." It paused momentarily, considering the options. There was no hair upon its steel chin, obviously, but still it rubbed its fingers and thumb along the ridge, as though stroking a beard. "Shall we send a scouting party to save what souls we can and to gather intel to determine the next course of action? Or should we turn about, find a way around, and move on to another city?"
Reaver paused again, pondering how much life has already been lost here, in Greenest, and how much more was to come. "You hired me to protect the caravan, but still I want to help out here. Who knows how many souls we could save?"
Saliferous Eric
Member
Zarros had been riding on the roof of one of the wagons as he often liked to do. From his vantage point he was probably the first to see the light from the flames. As he saw the massive winged beast come into view he muttered some curses in Infernal. This wasn't the sort of adventure he had in mind when daydreaming for a more exciting life. Zarros looked down at the rest of the caravan who had just now begun to notice the disaster that lay ahead of them.
Zarros remained on his perch his eyes trained on the road ahead of them intently watching for any signs of movement. He hoped to see survivors fleeing the town but he saw nothing. As he watched an unfamiliar sense of duty began to creep into Zarros mind. Somehow he felt like it was his responsibility to help the people of this town. This was baffling to him as he had never been one to play the hero, quite the opposite in fact, but this was not the time for soul searching. He pushed such distractions to the back of his mind focusing on the situation at hand.
Although his eyes were fixed on the road Zarros had been listening to everything happening below him. The large golem type creature had just begun discussing plans for the best course of action with Zuldan. Zarros couldn't recall hearing it speak until now. He had assumed it was someone's automaton but this new development indicated intelligence, perhaps even consciousness. But once again that was a issue for another time. Zarros realized the longer they sat there debating what to do more people were dying. “I can't believe I am doing this.” He muttered under his breath. He took a moment to mentally prepare for what he was about to do. He took a deep breath. “The things I do for bigots” He whispered to himself.
Zarros exclaimed another obscenity in Infernal, this time loud enough to be heard by those nearby. As he did he stood up and leapt from his perch. As he landed he tucked into a roll before springing back up to his feet. He looked at the others “I will scout it out. You can join me once you insure the caravans safety.”. He exclaimed.
Zarros did not wait for a response before he took off running towards the town. He instinctively followed the darkest shadows as he ran. As he put more distance between himself and the caravan his dark colored attire seemed to blend into the darkness until the only thing anyone could see was his white hair. The hair that almost seemed to shine out amidst the darkness and was the only marker of his position. As he raised his hood up over his head that white speck vanished and he melted into the darkness and out of sight.
Zarros remained on his perch his eyes trained on the road ahead of them intently watching for any signs of movement. He hoped to see survivors fleeing the town but he saw nothing. As he watched an unfamiliar sense of duty began to creep into Zarros mind. Somehow he felt like it was his responsibility to help the people of this town. This was baffling to him as he had never been one to play the hero, quite the opposite in fact, but this was not the time for soul searching. He pushed such distractions to the back of his mind focusing on the situation at hand.
Although his eyes were fixed on the road Zarros had been listening to everything happening below him. The large golem type creature had just begun discussing plans for the best course of action with Zuldan. Zarros couldn't recall hearing it speak until now. He had assumed it was someone's automaton but this new development indicated intelligence, perhaps even consciousness. But once again that was a issue for another time. Zarros realized the longer they sat there debating what to do more people were dying. “I can't believe I am doing this.” He muttered under his breath. He took a moment to mentally prepare for what he was about to do. He took a deep breath. “The things I do for bigots” He whispered to himself.
Zarros exclaimed another obscenity in Infernal, this time loud enough to be heard by those nearby. As he did he stood up and leapt from his perch. As he landed he tucked into a roll before springing back up to his feet. He looked at the others “I will scout it out. You can join me once you insure the caravans safety.”. He exclaimed.
Zarros did not wait for a response before he took off running towards the town. He instinctively followed the darkest shadows as he ran. As he put more distance between himself and the caravan his dark colored attire seemed to blend into the darkness until the only thing anyone could see was his white hair. The hair that almost seemed to shine out amidst the darkness and was the only marker of his position. As he raised his hood up over his head that white speck vanished and he melted into the darkness and out of sight.
"Y'know I'd kind of thought dragon attacks were mostly something that happened in exaggerated stories."
Hopping down from his wagon and sidling up towards Zuldan and the oversized metal man just as Zarros was disappearing away, Theo watched the town burn in the distance with wide eyes, tracking the shadow in the sky as it soared, silhouetted against the fading light.
"Not really much we can do against that, right? Not unless anyone's got a ballista in their back pocket." His words might have been jovial - almost inappropriately so - but his tone was plainly nervous. "What's his plan, exactly?" he nodded after where the horned man had vanished into the night.
Hopping down from his wagon and sidling up towards Zuldan and the oversized metal man just as Zarros was disappearing away, Theo watched the town burn in the distance with wide eyes, tracking the shadow in the sky as it soared, silhouetted against the fading light.
"Not really much we can do against that, right? Not unless anyone's got a ballista in their back pocket." His words might have been jovial - almost inappropriately so - but his tone was plainly nervous. "What's his plan, exactly?" he nodded after where the horned man had vanished into the night.
The sound of clashing steel and sundering stone. The pungent bouquet of wood-smoke and seared flesh. Standing within a maelstrom of flame and death as the world went mad around him. He tried. With bloodied arms outstretched, and legs pumping furiously, he tried. But it made no difference. As if caught in a vortex of molasses, it didn't matter how fast he tried to move. He couldn't arrive in time to stop it. His friends died before his eyes with their accusing stares the last thing he saw before the flames engulfed him.
With a start, Halfdan awoke, arms flailing. He bumped his head on a the support beam of the wagon's frame as he sat up. With a grumble, he slid his legs off his pallet and took a deep breath. He shrugged his shoulders rhythmically, working the kinks out of his muscles as the grogginess of sleep faded. What twisted joke of fate, he thought. In life he never saw his world's end; in dreams, it was all he saw. He reached up with his left hand and placed it on his chin before applying sharp and steady pressure upwards. A sharp pop sounded as the cartilage in his neck crackled, jolting him awake and relieving the pressure his awkward sleeping had accumulated.
He moved to stand up and promptly fell on his ass as the wagon suddenly decelerated and shouting began outside. He swiftly moved to gather his belongings. Thankfully he had fallen asleep without doffing his armor, an occurrence which had become increasingly common over the last two years and which no doubt contributed to the poor sleep he'd been getting. But now it meant that all he needed in order to be ready was to hoist his pack onto his back, making sure the cinches on his javelins were tight. His halberd laid next to the bed, with his short sword in it's leather scabbard resting atop it. With practiced ease he dressed the scabbard on, and after grabbing the halberd he jumped out of the wagon.
He intended to go meet with the other guards to get an update. To see if the sudden stop was due to an attack and if the call had already been made to circle the wagons in that case. But when he glanced ahead to see if Zudan was still on the driver's seat, he caught a glimpse of what was ahead. He reflexively reached towards his holy symbol with his left hand, and felt the familiar faint heat he'd felt since the day he first touched the sigil of his god. It was cold, compared to the kindling fires that were beginning to stoke within him.
With a single minded purpose he swiftly marched up towards the caravan-master. So narrow was his focus he almost marched straight into the imposing whatever-it-was figure of his fellow hired guard. Typically impossible to miss, but right now Halfdan's awareness was being tugged towards vengeance. He only arrived in time to catch the tail end whatever the not-fiend had said before he rushed off, but he wasn't concerned with whatever had been discussed or was being planned at that moment.
It took him a second to register the presence of his tormentor. He simply hadn't registered the young man, with the way the hulking automaton monopolized his casual glance. The vague and swiftly retreating part of Halfdan's rational mind thought the point about ballistae a very salient one. But it was quickly swallowed up by the rising hate. Halfdan sharply rapped the end of his halberd into the ground out of impatience. "Zudan, I am going," he growled. "But I gave you my oath. Circle the wagons and set up ranks then release me." He was impatient to be off, but in his new life he was learning the power of oaths. He couldn't just shirk the duty he was bound to, so he'd see the caravan safe as quickly as he could manage.
With a start, Halfdan awoke, arms flailing. He bumped his head on a the support beam of the wagon's frame as he sat up. With a grumble, he slid his legs off his pallet and took a deep breath. He shrugged his shoulders rhythmically, working the kinks out of his muscles as the grogginess of sleep faded. What twisted joke of fate, he thought. In life he never saw his world's end; in dreams, it was all he saw. He reached up with his left hand and placed it on his chin before applying sharp and steady pressure upwards. A sharp pop sounded as the cartilage in his neck crackled, jolting him awake and relieving the pressure his awkward sleeping had accumulated.
He moved to stand up and promptly fell on his ass as the wagon suddenly decelerated and shouting began outside. He swiftly moved to gather his belongings. Thankfully he had fallen asleep without doffing his armor, an occurrence which had become increasingly common over the last two years and which no doubt contributed to the poor sleep he'd been getting. But now it meant that all he needed in order to be ready was to hoist his pack onto his back, making sure the cinches on his javelins were tight. His halberd laid next to the bed, with his short sword in it's leather scabbard resting atop it. With practiced ease he dressed the scabbard on, and after grabbing the halberd he jumped out of the wagon.
He intended to go meet with the other guards to get an update. To see if the sudden stop was due to an attack and if the call had already been made to circle the wagons in that case. But when he glanced ahead to see if Zudan was still on the driver's seat, he caught a glimpse of what was ahead. He reflexively reached towards his holy symbol with his left hand, and felt the familiar faint heat he'd felt since the day he first touched the sigil of his god. It was cold, compared to the kindling fires that were beginning to stoke within him.
With a single minded purpose he swiftly marched up towards the caravan-master. So narrow was his focus he almost marched straight into the imposing whatever-it-was figure of his fellow hired guard. Typically impossible to miss, but right now Halfdan's awareness was being tugged towards vengeance. He only arrived in time to catch the tail end whatever the not-fiend had said before he rushed off, but he wasn't concerned with whatever had been discussed or was being planned at that moment.
It took him a second to register the presence of his tormentor. He simply hadn't registered the young man, with the way the hulking automaton monopolized his casual glance. The vague and swiftly retreating part of Halfdan's rational mind thought the point about ballistae a very salient one. But it was quickly swallowed up by the rising hate. Halfdan sharply rapped the end of his halberd into the ground out of impatience. "Zudan, I am going," he growled. "But I gave you my oath. Circle the wagons and set up ranks then release me." He was impatient to be off, but in his new life he was learning the power of oaths. He couldn't just shirk the duty he was bound to, so he'd see the caravan safe as quickly as he could manage.
Zuldan didn't need to think too hard on Reever’s inquiries before he responded gruffly. "There's nothing we can do against that. The town guardsman of Greenest will be far better equipped to protect the people there. We have people here that need protecting, and right now we’re sitting in the open road. We need to get these wagons off the road and out of sight,” he instructed. “There’s shit all for cover out here, but these wagon’s will stand out on the road more than in the fields.”
There wasn’t much cover around, but the tall grass, weeds, and wildflowers off the road grew nearly four or five feet tall in areas. The fields were nowhere near tall enough to cover the wagons but perhaps, Zuldan thought, it would be enough to camouflage them from a dragon flying overhead in the dark.
The caravan master gave a deep scowl at Zarros’ words, but the white-haired half-tiefling was already off into the night.
“Damned if I know,” Zuldan replied to Theo.
The caravan master began to climb down from the wagon when the sound of Halfdan’s halberd hitting the ground with a heavy thud drew his attention. One wouldn’t need much skill in reading people's moods to see the man’s scowl darken all the further.
“There’s people here that need protecting,” he growled in annoyance. “There’s nothing we can do that the town's guardsmen can’t already. There’s children in these wagons,” he added pointedly. “Anyone leaving will forfeit their wages.”
Reever and Theo both would pick up in the insincerity of the man’s words though. The caravan master could care less about the children. His goods on the other hand… that was a far more likely motivation for not wanting people running off.
“Now let’s get these wagons off the road. We can circle them in the taller grass over there,” he said with an outstretched hand to indicate the spot. “We can throw some of the weeds and grasses over the top for camouflage too.”
While words were being exchanged a few figures had exited the wagons to find out what was going on, and they stood about in a state of hesitant confusion.
There wasn’t much cover around, but the tall grass, weeds, and wildflowers off the road grew nearly four or five feet tall in areas. The fields were nowhere near tall enough to cover the wagons but perhaps, Zuldan thought, it would be enough to camouflage them from a dragon flying overhead in the dark.
The caravan master gave a deep scowl at Zarros’ words, but the white-haired half-tiefling was already off into the night.
“Damned if I know,” Zuldan replied to Theo.
The caravan master began to climb down from the wagon when the sound of Halfdan’s halberd hitting the ground with a heavy thud drew his attention. One wouldn’t need much skill in reading people's moods to see the man’s scowl darken all the further.
“There’s people here that need protecting,” he growled in annoyance. “There’s nothing we can do that the town's guardsmen can’t already. There’s children in these wagons,” he added pointedly. “Anyone leaving will forfeit their wages.”
Reever and Theo both would pick up in the insincerity of the man’s words though. The caravan master could care less about the children. His goods on the other hand… that was a far more likely motivation for not wanting people running off.
“Now let’s get these wagons off the road. We can circle them in the taller grass over there,” he said with an outstretched hand to indicate the spot. “We can throw some of the weeds and grasses over the top for camouflage too.”
While words were being exchanged a few figures had exited the wagons to find out what was going on, and they stood about in a state of hesitant confusion.
The caravan master's response caught the warforged off-guard. He was right, of course. There were fledgling humans in the group. But then why did Reaver sense that Zuldan was lying? Either way, the man's response cured Reaver's temporary indecisiveness.
The warforged collected its thoughts and tried to put them into words. It wasn't graced with a silver tongue, but it did the best it could.
"There are children in that town. Children whose lives will be forever changed by this attack. And, if we don't act now, children whose lives will be forever extinguished in the flames of that..." Reaver hadn't encountered the word "dragon" before, and until tonight, there was no reason to have. It never had parents to read it bedtime stories, and having been largely removed from civilization, it had never come up in conversation. The pause to come up with a description was short, but tangible. Regardless, he proceeded with, "... fire-lizard."
Reaver took a step toward the older man, towering over him. Its blue eyes almost seemed to pulse angrily.
"If you were really that worried about the children, you would jettison the cargo and beat a hasty retreat." The cargo! That was what Reaver was missing before! The light from its blue crystalline eyes grew in intensity, and it decided to press that point further. "But your shriveled heart does not concern itself with the children does it? No, you care only for your things."
To seal the deal, Reaver leaned in so that its glowing blue eyes were inches from the human's. "And you know what? When I took this job, you told me I was to guard the caravan, not your freight. That horned human is a member of this caravan, and right now he is in the most danger of all of us. So I intend to complete my mission by guarding that man. If all it takes to do that is to forfeit a couple of coins, so be it!"
The barbarian hoped that this interpretation of its duties might ease the decision for the other separatist. Even under the shiny scale armor, Reaver could see that the man was conflicted.
"Do what the shiny human said. Circle the wagons. You do not need me for that. If it makes you feel better to drive the caravan into those flammable weeds first, feel free to do so. As for me," Reaver paused its monologue to step back and draw two javelins in a fluid motion, "my pride as a warforged will not allow me to back down from this fight. If you do not require my services upon my return, consider this my resignation."
Without waiting for a response, Reaver turned on its heel and charged after the flautist. Who knew what other beings accompanied that fire-lizard, and Reaver figured he would certainly need the backup.
The warforged collected its thoughts and tried to put them into words. It wasn't graced with a silver tongue, but it did the best it could.
"There are children in that town. Children whose lives will be forever changed by this attack. And, if we don't act now, children whose lives will be forever extinguished in the flames of that..." Reaver hadn't encountered the word "dragon" before, and until tonight, there was no reason to have. It never had parents to read it bedtime stories, and having been largely removed from civilization, it had never come up in conversation. The pause to come up with a description was short, but tangible. Regardless, he proceeded with, "... fire-lizard."
Reaver took a step toward the older man, towering over him. Its blue eyes almost seemed to pulse angrily.
"If you were really that worried about the children, you would jettison the cargo and beat a hasty retreat." The cargo! That was what Reaver was missing before! The light from its blue crystalline eyes grew in intensity, and it decided to press that point further. "But your shriveled heart does not concern itself with the children does it? No, you care only for your things."
To seal the deal, Reaver leaned in so that its glowing blue eyes were inches from the human's. "And you know what? When I took this job, you told me I was to guard the caravan, not your freight. That horned human is a member of this caravan, and right now he is in the most danger of all of us. So I intend to complete my mission by guarding that man. If all it takes to do that is to forfeit a couple of coins, so be it!"
The barbarian hoped that this interpretation of its duties might ease the decision for the other separatist. Even under the shiny scale armor, Reaver could see that the man was conflicted.
"Do what the shiny human said. Circle the wagons. You do not need me for that. If it makes you feel better to drive the caravan into those flammable weeds first, feel free to do so. As for me," Reaver paused its monologue to step back and draw two javelins in a fluid motion, "my pride as a warforged will not allow me to back down from this fight. If you do not require my services upon my return, consider this my resignation."
Without waiting for a response, Reaver turned on its heel and charged after the flautist. Who knew what other beings accompanied that fire-lizard, and Reaver figured he would certainly need the backup.
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Halfdan barely had time to form a retort towards the caravan-master before the offended warforged launched into his scathing rebuttal of the merchant's motivations. He had been momentarily considering the merchant's points, but he'd clearly misread the other's intentions. His eyes drew down to bare slits as he listened on. He also briefly pondered if he was keeping his chain-mail too well oiled.
As the warforged set off, Halfdan turned towards Zuldan and spat upon the floor. "The large guy said it better than I could," Halfdan growled. "But if we all live through this, I'll be back to discuss what I'm owed." Halfdan hefted his halberd in a ready carry stance and dashed off to follow the fiend and the metal man.
As the warforged set off, Halfdan turned towards Zuldan and spat upon the floor. "The large guy said it better than I could," Halfdan growled. "But if we all live through this, I'll be back to discuss what I'm owed." Halfdan hefted his halberd in a ready carry stance and dashed off to follow the fiend and the metal man.
“Honestly...” Theo glanced between Zuldan and the retreating figures dashing towards the town. “Some people, huh? More bravado than sense.”
He shook his head disapprovingly, then sighed, hefting his pack over his shoulder and securing it firmly in place. Before the dwarf could get a reply in, he’d started walking after them.
“Guess they’ll need someone with half a brain on their shoulders to tag along. The things I do for my conscience...”
Breaking into a run to keep up with the more eager front runners, Theo wondered at what point in life his path had diverted from picking pockets and running from guardsmen to running headlong towards a dragon attack.
It would be fine, he reasoned. The big and clanky guys would draw all the attention. And in the meantime, he could just stay in the background and help enough to feel like he’d done all that he could... hopefully far enough away that when the dragon inevitably swooped down and obliterated them, he wouldn’t be noticed.
Yeah, that seemed like a fair compromise to both his wits and his better nature.
Plus he was already halfway there. It’d just be awkward to turn around and go back now.
As he ran, Theo internally started going through a checklist of all the vaguely benevolent gods he could remember off the top of his head, murmuring a quick prayer (really, it was more like begging a small favour) that they might spare him a fiery demise for one more day in exchange for his good deed. If he lived till tomorrow, he’d even throw in another one for good measure! Hopefully at least one of them would recognise it for the good deal it was.
He shook his head disapprovingly, then sighed, hefting his pack over his shoulder and securing it firmly in place. Before the dwarf could get a reply in, he’d started walking after them.
“Guess they’ll need someone with half a brain on their shoulders to tag along. The things I do for my conscience...”
Breaking into a run to keep up with the more eager front runners, Theo wondered at what point in life his path had diverted from picking pockets and running from guardsmen to running headlong towards a dragon attack.
It would be fine, he reasoned. The big and clanky guys would draw all the attention. And in the meantime, he could just stay in the background and help enough to feel like he’d done all that he could... hopefully far enough away that when the dragon inevitably swooped down and obliterated them, he wouldn’t be noticed.
Yeah, that seemed like a fair compromise to both his wits and his better nature.
Plus he was already halfway there. It’d just be awkward to turn around and go back now.
As he ran, Theo internally started going through a checklist of all the vaguely benevolent gods he could remember off the top of his head, murmuring a quick prayer (really, it was more like begging a small favour) that they might spare him a fiery demise for one more day in exchange for his good deed. If he lived till tomorrow, he’d even throw in another one for good measure! Hopefully at least one of them would recognise it for the good deal it was.
Saliferous Eric
Member
As he ran Zarros couldn't help but think about the irony of the situation. Ever since he left home he had been met with racism, fear and hate. But here he was running towards a dragon attack to save the people who would most certainly have shunned him under different circumstances.
Zarros’ gut told him that this was more than a simple dragon attack. If it was you would expect to see people fleeing the city in terror. The fact that he had not seen a single person come running down the road led him to believe that there must be someone or something preventing the villagers from escaping the blaze.
He sincerely hoped that his gut was wrong, but it rarely was. Over the years Zarros had come to trust his instincts. He hoped that at least some of the others would follow his lead and meet him at the city. A handful of the other escorts looked like they could handle themselves in a fight. The Human Halfdan especially looked like a seasoned fighter. Zarros was very skilled at stealth and subterfuge and although he could handle himself in a fight, if he was right about there being some sort of foot soldiers there would be little he could do on his own.
As Zarros grew closer to the city he slowed his pace and shifted his focus to the task on hand. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of hostiles as he approached. He hoped that the distraction provided by the raging inferno would help him remain unseen but he was prepared for the worst, ready to vanish in an instant if he was spotted.
Zarros’ gut told him that this was more than a simple dragon attack. If it was you would expect to see people fleeing the city in terror. The fact that he had not seen a single person come running down the road led him to believe that there must be someone or something preventing the villagers from escaping the blaze.
He sincerely hoped that his gut was wrong, but it rarely was. Over the years Zarros had come to trust his instincts. He hoped that at least some of the others would follow his lead and meet him at the city. A handful of the other escorts looked like they could handle themselves in a fight. The Human Halfdan especially looked like a seasoned fighter. Zarros was very skilled at stealth and subterfuge and although he could handle himself in a fight, if he was right about there being some sort of foot soldiers there would be little he could do on his own.
As Zarros grew closer to the city he slowed his pace and shifted his focus to the task on hand. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of hostiles as he approached. He hoped that the distraction provided by the raging inferno would help him remain unseen but he was prepared for the worst, ready to vanish in an instant if he was spotted.