Riders of Scavenger Island

Marshy Morga keeps a respectable distance from the group but close enough to speak normally. "I don't want to fight. Not any more, at least." She began to explain. "You do not know me, but my name in life is Morga, Marshy Morga to the scavenger scum on these islands and to my tribe, Druid Chief Morga. The dragon helped me understand that you are no scavengers. You are survivors of the latest attack right? Forgive my rudeness." She gives a yellow smile to the group as she continues to talk. "Scavengers would simply kill such easy and rare prey as that Starving Skrill, but seeing as the noble beast has trusted you, I should do the same. As an apology, I offer you shelter, food, drink and answers. Come with me and we shall take care of you like we have done with many dozens of survivors of the Scavenger attacks." She offers and beckons the group to come with her.

Morga no longer wishes to fight. Even her Terrors no longer took aggressive stances against the Vikings.
 
Slode looked at the other four, sharing glances. Some looney old hag had attacked them for their food, run away and hid as a 'Skrill' came down, trusted the Skrill over fellow humans, and was inviting them over for shelter? It didn't just reek suspicious, it practixally overpowered the smell of wet dragon. And if it werent for the fact that he was sure he could take her, and their limited food and crappy shelter, he would have said so.

Instead, he gave another uneasy glance towards the Skrill, before looking back at Morga. "Lead the way." He says, gesturing at the old woman and her terrible puppies.
 
Garm took her words with caution, she had attacked them first, and they had tried talking to her. He looked to the Skrill behind him, who was happily eating, it ate like it hadn't eaten in weeks. It looked up at him and tilted it's head. He smiled at it, happy to have helped such a magnificent creature.
He looked back to Morga, if she was trying to trick them it wouldn't end well for her, but if she was being honest, then they could use the help.
He didn't say anything and decided to follow her to wherever she would lead them.
 
Marshy Morga smiles and nods as she beckons them to follow. She leads the Vikings from the village through the surrounding wilderness. There was no roads or paths, so the group walked through dense bushes and thorny shrubs unlike anything that the Vikings have ever seen. Morga seemed unaffected by the walking however as she easily goes through the brush as smoothly as walking on a paved road. After an hour of hard walking Morga comes to a stop at a vine covered wall. "Here. We can take a small break here before we continue."
 
Ren looked at the old woman with distrust. The crone had attacked them without so much as a chance to ask, and now they were friends? Being taken in for shelter and food? No one flipped their personalities and views so quickly unless they were crazy. Ren watched the short, smelly woman lead them on with the rat-dragons in tow behind her and the stick grasped firmly in her hands. The helmet sat a little crooked over her grimy hair. ....the woman was definitely two plums short of a fruit pie...so maybe they were being offered something decent for once. With a shrug at the others, Ren followed the woman keeping her bow close even though her arrows had been ruined by the seawater.

Trekking through the underbrush was a pain, to say the least, and the longer they followed her, the more suspicious Ren became. She was used to traveling fairly undetected through the underbrush but even some of the strange plants here seemed to have a mind of their own. A thorny branch snagged in her hair and she spent a minute trying to untangle it before getting irritated. In one quick swing of her seax knife, she cut off the thorn and freed herself. "I'll get it out later," she remarked at the others.

After an hour of less than pleasant woods-walking, they came to a stop outside of a vine-covered wall. She's seen overgrowth like that before and it was a perfect place for animals to hide or attackers to ambush from. The tingle of suspicion ran down her spine and she used her bow to tip to sweep them aside while also sidestepping out of the way from anything lurking behind. It probably looked ridiculous, but being ridiculous was better than being dead.
 
Averix had stayed off to the aid because he knew something important and life altering was going to happen. He condone taken the dragon’s head off, but Garm wanted to feed it and it it worked or. He would’ve taken the old ladies head, but a She was someone else’s kill and B she’d changed her tune so it was settled. They’d follow her. The brush was thick and he responded by angrily shopping down any foliage that got in his way. It needed to be moved anyway before it whacked someone that wasn’t. Morga or him
 
For once Slode wasn’t proud of his longer hair. Instead, it was slowly becoming more of a hassle as it barred the man from just barracking his way through, his height the perfect level to catch low hanging branches. However, since he wasn’t some sort of brat, he just suffered in silence. Besides, Ren looked like she was having a far tougher time.

The speed of her knife was pretty impressive to watch though.

He also made sure to keep is eye on the old woman. She was either crazy or planning something, and until he knew what was which he just resorted to the default: Minor hostility with a dash of killing intent.

When they came to a stop Slode had to admit he was somewhat surprised that the old hag had lasted as long as she did, having walked for almost an hour straight. She was stronger than her body gave away, and he would have to take note of that. Something else to take note of was the OLD, VINE COVERED WALL. Not only was it a perfect structure for wild animals to hide behind, which the old hag seemed to have an affinity for, it also raised some questions. People had obviously lived here before, so what happened to them? Did the dragons take them out? Something else? The questions kept piling up.

Stopping next to Ren, he leans down to roughly her height. “Old woman who commands dragons, hour long trek on an uncharted island and some sort of ancient wall in the middle of the jungle. Tell me i’m not the only one who thinks this is beyond suspicious?” He asks, keeping his voice to a murmur as he looked around.
 
The tall one...well...they were all tall...but the one with long hair leaned over her as they came to a stop at the vine covered wall, having noted the same thing she had. At least one of them had some common sense so far. She let out a short breath and nodded. "Aye. There's only one way to find out. Hope you can move faster than you look." Stepping up to the wall used her bow to tip to sweep them aside while also sidestepping out of the way from anything lurking behind. It probably looked ridiculous, but being ridiculous was better than being dead.
 
Garm and his new friend had followed after the Skrill had finished it's barrel of food. It looked at him with a satisfied look as it came up and nudged his arm. "We'll get you more soon. Don't worry." He said rubbing it's head. "Come on we don't wanna be left behind." He said to it as he began to walk behind everyone.
They followed the woman to the rest spot and he decided to ask a question, "You thought we were scavengers, care to elaborate on that?" He asked her as the Skrill curled up nearby letting it's meal settle.
 
When the vines were moved, all was revealed was a rough round boulder. Marshy Morga can't help but raise an eyebrow. "If you want to start a fire, I suggest cutting the vines instead of moving them young lady." Said Morga and the Druid pulls some vines down and throws them into the middle of the group. She signals her terror to fire off a bolt and light the vines, creating a small fire for light and warmth. "Here we are. Sit and warm yourselves Children. I shall tell you a story. A story of how the Scavengers destroyed our island and drove us here." She sits by the fire, keeping her stick firmly in her hand.

"The Scavengers are band of ruffians. As their name implies they prey on the weak and broken, taking everything they can before leaving whoever remains to parish due to the sea. We didn't pay them much mind as we were able to fight them off time and time again from passing trade ships using our unique connection to our Dragons. However one day, we saw the Scavenger ships sailing towards our walls. We thought them mad, but it it wasn't so as the revealed that somehow they had trained their own Dragons of their own. Horrible beasts, purple Dragons who spat out their own teeth that the Scavengers call Grim Gnashers." The Druid's voice became quiet and somber. "They attacked our defenses, destroyed out walls and razed our villages. Killed our Dragons and fed what they didn't eat to their own. They drove our once peaceful civilization to this small island where we hide, rebuild and regrow our numbers. But we no longer have the heart to fight the Scavengers, nor the numbers as there is only a few thousand of us left, and only a few dozen dragons." The Druid sighs. "I remember it well all things considered. I was simply a young teenager back then."
 
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Slode listened to the story, glancing back towards Ren (who he had deemed his partner in ‘Are you kidding me?’) as the Druid talked about her and her people’s history, and the rise of the pirates. Oddly enough he wasn’t that afraid of these ‘Grim Gnashers’. Their description fell in line with tales of dragons he had been fed as a youth, and he found himself suddenly itching for a fight. But first, it was parobabkt good to get a little more information. About everything.

“Okay, so if I may intervene? Hi there, i’m Slode, of Isk. Just want to plot together what you have told us. So you’re saying that some sort of pirate clan, because from where i’m standing that’s what they are, managed to take on your entire mass of people who lived on that rather large island, along with your dragons, with only numbers and a selective breed of their own? Something’s not adding up here. Even with numbers, troop quality matters a lot in battle and you were fighting a defensive battle with things like that” he jerks his thumb back towards the Skrill, “on your side. Either you’re massively downplaying how powerful these guys are, or you aren’t painting the whole picture.”

Slode would be lying if he said he didn’t want to lay a bit of pressure on the old Druid. The Druids back home were nothing like this woman, often hopped up on shrooms and always screaming about visions. It didn’t take much investigation to figure out you don’t need ‘a connection with nature’ to see things when you ingest shrooms like that.

But this woman was definitely different. Smelly, matted, certainly unwashed to the point he wouldn’t put her in an ocean for fear of the fish dying and frankly a little crazy. But she also had dragons on her side, and he would be lying if he said that the thought of having his own draconic partner didn’t thrill him.
 
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Morga frowns at Slode and with some quick movements she reaches up with her stick, pulls the vine from the wall and uses it to lash at Slode's leg, tripping him up before one of Morga's Terror jumps on him and without any hesitation prepares to fire off a bolt into his face, but with a whistle the Terror immedately runs back to its trainer and was as passive as a lap dog, nuzzling on its master while she pets it.

"Numbers and defenses were nothing against skill and tactics. We were outnumbered and outmatched by these 'Pirates.' We were not born soldiers or strategists. We not united by a common cause. We were peaceful isolationists, scholars and priests. We were scattered tribes, united only by blood, but were under no obligation to assist one another. Even at their highest power, if the villages combined their forces, it would only be able to number 4000 warriors and vikings and only 64 ships, compared to the Scavengers' 5000 warriors and dragons and 80 ships. By the time the village Chiefs had decided to form a united resistance we only had lost a third of our numbers. We tried to fight back, but they were better trained though generations of raiding and were better outfitted. Finally we were forced to run. We lost most of our population to the fighting and the raids as they continued to attack us even as we had surrendered and ran. Now we are a fraction of our original strength, and even if ever man, woman, child and dragon were to fight, the Scavengers will still outnumber us. All we can do is wait for an opening to attack."
 
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Ren shot the woman a look when she made a snarky comment about the vines. Did she expect them to just trust every little thing she did? Maybe the other's did, besides the blondie next who was giving her a look that clearly said what she was thinking. She didn't just run around throwing out chances to doublecross her. Trust was earned, not given freely. The old woman told her tale with a few valid interruptions and Ren crossed her arms while she thought. "So, you're engaged in a war that you know you can't win," she summed up. Not that she was totally heartless, but that's the way it was looking.
 
Morga frowns and she clicked her tongue and a Terror runs up to Ren and bites her in the toe, only enough to cause pain but not enough to cause bleeding. After the bite, the Terror runs back to its master.

"We didn't get in a war we would win. We weren't warriors but we weren't fools. We were buying time for civilians to escape, but it was mostly in vain. Out of the 22000 scattered bands who ran, only a few thousand ever made it off the island and even fewer made it to this island as the Scavengers sunk many of the transports. I lost my parents, my siblings and friends, dragon and human alike, but I lived and I endured hoping that I shall be the last who will know the fires and bloodshed." She continued. "I do not expect you to believe me, I do not even expect you to respect me or the dead nor will I ask you. But if you leave this island without the proper knowledge, then your bones will be placed in the same pile as the Captains' and Slaves'." She finished.
 
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Garm sat with his hands clenched together and his head propped up on his hands.
The story was making plenty of sense but also no sense at all. A force like that would've had to have come from somewhere, they couldn't have just sprang into existence. Something on the island must've drawn them there, and whether or not they found it was a question open to debate.
"So is the island completely over run? Or have they gathered in certain areas? Did you ever discover an ulterior motive to why they attacked? Maybe they wanted something that island had?" He asked her, he might've asked to many questions at once but they popped into his head and needed answers. "Is there any clue as to where they came from?" He finished, tilting his head and asking the old lady.
 
Ren shot the old woman and her rat-dragons a look as she rubbed the toe of her boot into the dirt to lessen the stinging from the bite. Finally, the other guy in their lovely little group asked some questions. He was really into a fight that wasn't theirs. "They're scavengers, the motive being to push out others for their own benefit," she replied, "Just like everyone else. If they want something they take it and they don't care what they have to do to survive."
 
Slode lay on the grouns, rage mounting to an almost palpable degree at the old woman’s actions. He was NOT going to be humiliated by some old woman! Certainly not by someone like this.

Quick as a flash, the large man stands and moves towards Morga, hand darting out and wraping around the throat of the terror that had threatened him, the beat letting out a strangled noise as the tall man rises and storms towards the old woman, keeping his captive between his brothers as he let his rage be known on his face, looking down at the hag.

“You try that again and i’ll pull a Stoic. You’re lucky i’m even listening to this stuff!” He roars at her, voice echoing through the jungle as he restrained himself from following through with the act and trying to pop her head off. As angry as he was, and that was very, he wasn’t Going to hurt an old woman unless she tried her luck again.

What he wouldn’t do for something he could hit.
 
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The Terror bites Slode's hand, forcing him to release it as it crawls across the ground and back to its master's side. Morga lets out a huff. "If I remember, Stoic the Vast is dead so feel free to try to pull a 'Stoic' if you wish." Morga replies and turns to the rest. "As for your questions. Yes, the island is overrun with Scavengers. They've been reinforcing their numbers for many years now with small pockets scattered throughout the main island. Trappers and hunters mostly. As for what they want, the Lass is right. It seems they just want the island's natural resources. Ore, timber and dragons. We haven't had the numbers to scout out the island fully without heavy losses." She tells the group.
 
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Garm was a little peeved at Slodes actions, they were uncalled for, and he had deserved to get bitten. Though listening to the answers to his questions, he understood things a bit better. "Well, that complicated things." He said glumly, "Why haven't they overrun this island the same way?"
The Skrills head poked up and listened carefully but hearing nothing went back to lounging. "And why were we left alive? I mean they destroyed the ship, but most everything was still there, why didn't they take anything or finish us off?"
 
Marshy Morga stops and thinks about what Garm had said. "Hmm...I do not know. Maybe they thought the ship would be lost, or whoever was steering the vessel managed to escape the Scavengers just enough to get to the island's shore. Whatever it may be, you are alive here and now so I suggest you enjoy that." The Druid stands up and stretches out her arms before speaking yet again. "Well I think we're done resting. How about we get to the village before that storm hits." She turns to Garm. "You might want to break in your Skrill now youngster. Get on the dragon and follow me. The rest of you will need to climb to do the same. I'll even join you to show you how easy it is. Now follow me youngsters." The deceptively old and frail looking woman gives one of her terrors her staff before immediately grabs onto the vines on the wall. She began to climb up the vertical stone wall with the speed and skill of expert climbers while her 5 Terrors followed her closely.
 
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