The shifter kneels into a prayer as the others do. Finally he stands. "I do not know how to ride, but I can keep up if the others think it would be best."
The shifter moves toward the door, ready to leave.
Dorn studies the map a moment then shrugs. Geography was not his strong point. Looks like the others were, so instead he had a bit of drink.
As they gathered with the horses, Dorn finally saw the dour dwarves bringing him his materials. As the dwarves got close, he gestured casually and smiled as a well-crafted blade appeared without warning in his hand. It sparkled and almost shimmered with a hidden beat. Ah, Shimmersong. We have been apart too long. He leans to the side while he waits for the dwarves to catch up.
A bit later, after girding up, Dorn continues to lean casually, but this time examining what appears to be a leather bound tome of some sort. Once everyone is mounted, or not, he sits astride his mount and pulls out a well-crafted lute. This should put the march in a step and get us going strong. As promised. With that, for the next ten minutes, he plays out a tune at a strong, measured pace. It is mesmerizing, and soon everyone is walking or riding to the beat.
OOC: Traveler's Chant Ritual—Overland speed is increased to 2+the slowest member's speed for 8 hours.
__________________ stonegod -- LEB judge and spawn of Khyber since 2005 (Blog)
Henry swung up easily onto his horse. He was not a skilled rider but competent enought for what was needed. What else he was not skilled at was made obvious when he started singing along to Dorn's accompaniment. It took several pointed coughs before he took the hint and shamefacedly stopped.
"Sorry, folks. I like a good tune but I was not made to produce one. Play on sir, I will be silent in future."
Encouraged by Dorn's singing, and seeing that everyone seems ready, Gala sets out.
She has offered Wendigo a hand, and offers to let him ride with her; whether or not he takes the offer, she sets off towards the Southeast, in the direction that the dwarven guards at the gate indicate.
She can see the mountains on the horizon, and knows to head in where they met the river. Occasionally she looks back to see if her comrades are with her.
Wendigo waves away the offered hand, but after a bit of travel, he sees the speed of the horses after Dorn's ritual. Jumping atop the horse's rump, and bouncing along wasn't comfortable, but would speed their journey back to the Monastery.
The monk rides in silence mostly, speaking only when spoken to. His thoughts wander to his comrades at the monastery. Maybe his vision was failing him that day. Maybe they would be fine, no orcs in sight. Wendigo doesn't dare to think about things the other way around.
Tregar takes the shortest, most stout looking of the horses, taking any offered help onto the large beast. Like Wendigo he remained silent, although his reason was different than the shifters. His thoughts didn't drift to the past, nor the present, or even the future, but rather Tregar allowed his mind to transcend his body and float amongst the more esoteric places of the plane. A secret he, and a few others, know that allow them to focus their body and act as a conduit for their gods. The dwarf allowed the half-elf's musical notes to flow around him and in him, harmonizing his spirit with the melody of the tune.
He didn't even notice the discomfort of the ride and remained impassive during any movement, even a particularly high jump from the horse.
The party gallops out of Overlook and begins its journey southeast. The sun is high in the sky and the lightest wisps of clouds make their path gently through the blue. A cool breeze wafting past keeps everyone quite comfortable while the warming rays of the sun drop down upon everyone.
Dorn's tune is a welcomed addition to the travels, as it keeps everyone's minds occupied. With the mountain range on their right and further plains to the left, there isn't much to capture anyone's attention. The music is a wonderful respite.
For ten miles, you all make very good time. The grasslands are not very high, the ground is solid, and the hills are not very steep. The horses maintain a steady time and steady footfalls. Conversation flows a bit as you all talk about what you are heading into, what you were doing before joining up, and what you hope to get back to once this business is hopefully done.
After several hours, you hear Wendigo whistle high and loud, and he motions off to your right, up into the mountains. You've gone as far as you can across the plains, and its time to enter the Stonehome itself. The group turns their horses slightly in that direction and you begin your ascent higher into the foothills.
It is at this point that the journey slows down quite a bit. The grass gives way to rock... a crumbling rock that has seen its share of rockfalls over the years. You each have to take further care in where you tell your steeds to go, to make sure they do not trip and fall. Some of you even climb down from your saddles to lead the horses along yourselves. Footsteps send rocks tumbling down beneath you, clattering and echoing into the air. It is only the start of your hike up the mountain, and already you are giving your position away to whomever might be living up here. It will be long and arduous... what can you do to get things off on the right foot and not see that foot break or get chopped off?
(Skill Check One: Athletics, Endurance or Stealth)
When the ground becomes unstable, Gala releases her horse. She removes any saddle and blanket, leaving them on the ground, the bridle already having been removed long before. With a slap on its rump, she drives the horse into the grasslands.
Then she turns around, the shale escarpment lying before her, slippery and uncertain. I haven't told them, she thinks to herself. She turns and clears her throat, giving a small tug at the collar around the long pale neck.
"Um," she begins. "So. This is awkward. I'm going to be more comfortable on my feet from here on in. I hope that's okay. I, uhh, haven't shown you this, but, well... And she takes two or three long strides, like a long jumper might when beginning an event, and leaps into the air, and her forepaws land silently.
She lets out a quick series of yaps, stretching her jaw, which is suddenly able to open as it should. Her pelt covers the blush of embarrassment that appears, as she turns to the escarpment. The greybrowns of her fur blend into the scattered rocks, and her sure, four-footed pacing allows her to advance silently up the hill.
Henry, starting to clamber down from his horse, stops dead in his tracks as Gala changes shape. The fighter remained, half down from his mount, his mouth open in astonishment, until the horse whinnied and started to back away in discomfort.
"I'm terribly sorry, lass. I didn't mean to cause you any distress. Here!"
Henry finished disnounting and, rummaging in his pouch, pulled out a wizened autumn apple which he gave to the horse.
Then, like Gala, he stripped off the horse's tack and sent the animal on its way back to town.
"So, we are on foot from here on. Fair enough. I like a good walk as well as the next man."
He secured his pack and strode on, the haft of his halberd acting as a solid walking staff, his feet sure and steadfast on the rough, uphill slope.
Tregar dismounts from his horse at the first sign of a difficult ride, sending it back with the others, he was after all no rider. Seeing the transformation before him, the dwarven invoker involuntarily takes a step back and brings his staff up in front of him defensively. Seeing Henry following the wolf brings some confidence to the dwarf and he lowers his head, determined to push his way through the mountains with the tireless work ethic that has made his race accomplished miners and smiths.
Wendigo leaps down from the horse when Gala did. He didn't feel comfortable riding the mount himself, especially this high in the hills. The elf had a way with the horse he had never seen.
The the woman changes form to that of a hyena, he is momentarily startled. There was a story that one of the monks of the temple from long ago could channel the spirit of an ape into himself. Did Gala have similar power? Drawing inspiration from the silent predator, the shifter steps along beside her, quietly padding along the rocky ground.
Dorn dismounts, but shakes his head at dismissing it. He might get some good use out of it yet. He kept whistling as he lead it, trying to use its rhythm to help them all endure.
OOC: Aid Another with Endurance +4.
__________________ stonegod -- LEB judge and spawn of Khyber since 2005 (Blog)
Gloomblade watches the rest of the group attempt to handle the situation and has to snicker a bit to himself. The Half-Orc uses his natural skill at stealth and concealment to get closer, hoping he won't give away his position in the process.
__________________ He knows the score... he gets the women... and he kills the bad guy. If you hire him to kill the bad guy... better make damn sure the bad guy isn't you! EN World Community Supporter
Currently running "In the Shadow of Giants" [OOC] | [IC] | [RG]
As the rocks begin to tumble, everyone dismounts and lets the horses return home... all except Dorn Tirae, who has a difficult time letting a potentially useful item just go. With awe, everyone watches the elf transform herself into the four-legged form to which she is most comfortable, and she yelps before bounding up into the rocky formations above them. The other four men look at each other for a second in surprise, before shrugging and continuing on.
The group hikes up into the mountains as the sun beats down upon them. Dorn's decision to keep his steed with him helps out the group it turns out, because as they pass a small spring full of clear water, they are able to fill a few extra waterskins and let the horse carry them. They will certainly be helpful later on. (Dorn Aid Another Endurance DC 10: [11] + 4 = 15 *success* / +2 to Tregar's Endurance check)
As their prepare to continue, Brother Wendigo motions for the group to remain as quiet as possible, as these springs are cherished by all manner of animal and humanoid... and who knows what might be wandering about, wanting to drink. (Wendigo Stealth DC 15: [9] + 12 = 21 *success*)
The druid and the halfork nod, and move out to watch the group's flanks as they move on, sneaking through the underbrush to give them extra eyes. (Gala Stealth DC 15: [15] + 10 = 25 *success*) (Gloomblade Stealth DC 15: [6] + 11 = 17 *success*)
Henry finds himself enjoying the journey far more than he expected. He's been keeping to himself and his job in Overlook for so long, that he'd forgotten the rush of being out on adventure. His excitement drives him, and he jumps and moves from rock to rock, never a false placement of foot. (Henry Athletics DC 10: [19] + 9 = 29 *success*)
Taking up the rear, Tregar the dwarf takes things slow, but sure. He's no athlete, but he'll be damned if he lets the Stonehome get the best of him. He whispers a silent prayer to Moradin and then feels his influence inside of him, driving him on. (Tregar Endurance DC 10: [16] + 11 + 2 Aid = 29 *success*)
Dorn, Tregar, and Henry are amazed at how quietly the other three pad their way through the boulders and underbrush. At various points the trio of scouts disappear completely from view, even while one or more of them are looking right at them. It's just as well that the Wanderer, the monk and the jackal move on ahead, because there's nothing to mask the sounds of the heavy armors of the other three, nor the whistling that the bard continues on with to keep their spirits up and inspire the horse to keep moving on.
Unfortunately, all of Dorn Tirae's inspiration can do nothing to cover or help a freak accident... and that is exactly what occurs. Henry grabs a tree root peaking through the rocks in order to step up onto a small outcropping of stone, when the outcropping suddenly gives way. "Whooooaaaa!!!" he exclaims, as the rocks beneath him shatter and split, then begin tumbling down the hill. Henry is able to keep his feet with no real incident... however, the rockfall comes as a surprise to Dorn, Tregar and the horse behind and below. The steed's hooves land on several of them, and with a sickening thud, the horse falls down flat. It doesn't take a horseman to know that this poor animal is hurting. But what to do? Try to make it comfortable for bit, try and fix what's wrong with it, or put the beast down and shoulder the burden of the filled waterskins themselves?
Tregar ducks out of the way of the rocks as much as he can, counting on his armour, strong dwarven work, to protect him from the smaller projectiles. Once Tregar picked himself back up and dusted himself off, he looks back to the Dorn and the horse to make sure they were able to escape the rockfall as well.
Tregar looks with sadness at the helpless creature, but he also wasn't any expert in tending to the ailments of animals. "I think he's a goner, we gotta keep going. Maybe one of you with a blade can put the poor horse out of his misery. I got no problem carrying more than my share of the load" Tregar says to the others as he kneels next to the horse, pats it once on the neck, and begins loading up the waterskins for the continued journey.
The inspiration from Moradin continues to spur him on and by his march it seems like not even the Nine Hells would be enough to dissuade Tregar from his goal.
The jackal turns when Henry pulls at the root, alerted by his shout, and launches herself down the hill. When she needs to be, Gala is fast. The four-footed beast rushes down to where the horse lies. She sees its great lungs heave as they begin to pool with liquid -- the heavy rasping breath is obvious to the others.
She casts a glance to Henry, who seems sound and unhurt. Back to the horse. She looks at Wendigo, and lets out a quick lamenting yip. No. I am not a healer. If the creature is to be put down, though, Gala believes she can do it painlessly; she will change back borrow someone's blade, and ease the horse's suffering. If the shifter or someone else can get the creature to stand, though, she can lead it from here on -- guiding its bridle, offering soothing words, helping find it a surer path as the group progresses up the hill.
EDIT: OOC: Nature +12
Last edited by Kobold Stew; 12th June 2009 at 09:00 PM..
Reason: added relevant skill
Wendigo turns to the horse as it stumbles as falls. "Let me see if I can help. Moradin tests us on the way to my home." The shifter kneels down next to the horse. He was no expert in healing, but perhaps he could focus his mind and determine the extent of it's injuries. Wendigo closes his eyes and runs his hands over the horses side and down it's legs, seeking his minds eye to to find the broken bones or strained muscles.
Dorn curses creatively and drops whatever he's holding, looking at the horse. He had a little training in first aide, all ex-members of the Watch did, but it was not quite the same for such a large animal. As he tried to do what he could, he barked at the shifter. Get over here! We'll need this beast if we want to make it alive! Someone's go to help me treat this thing!
OOC: Assist with Heal.
__________________ stonegod -- LEB judge and spawn of Khyber since 2005 (Blog)
Gloomblade looks upon the wounded creature as those companions work to aid in its injury. "Ain't much of a horseman meself," he says. "Best that we take up the waterskins n such. That horse, even if you heal it, ain't gonna be much good fer carryin' packs."
The Half-Orc begins picking up various bits of skins and other packs from the injured horse's saddlebags.
__________________ He knows the score... he gets the women... and he kills the bad guy. If you hire him to kill the bad guy... better make damn sure the bad guy isn't you! EN World Community Supporter
Currently running "In the Shadow of Giants" [OOC] | [IC] | [RG]
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