Dread Marches in Sion - Act 1: Scene 1

From a low vantage point within a copse of fever trees Shelladda Jianjo surveys remains of a horrible slaughter. Carcasses and corpses of men and bison spread out across a half-mile of meadow covered in clouds of flies and wakes of vultures. Her jaw clenches in rage, her eyes wet with tears. Already scavengers had come... jackals, hyenas, lions... eager to feast and redden their muzzles; but this was not her concern. Nature had its way and everything had to eat.

What bothered her was the awful manner of the killing. Seeing it for the first time almost made her vomit. ~Such a waste!~ Shelladda thought as she swallowed back her bile. Of course it had to be Gnolls, the most ancient and hated enemies of the native Mgorongoron tribes.

Her people were the first to herd wild cattle through these grazing lands over three thousand years ago, profiting off their meat and hides by domestication. These shepherds and warriors put up a valiant fight, but the odds were decidedly not in their favor as not a single fallen Gnoll lay among them.

Shelladda recognized the style of garments, piercings and colorful beads on some of the nearer corpses. These men belonged to the Omoro tribe, one of the largest and most prosperous in the Commonwealth. She estimated perhaps two to three dozen bodies, and likely five times that number in bison.

Custom dictated she undertake the responsibility to report this atrocity to the nearest Omoro village. Many wives, sons and daughters would weep at this news, but due diligence required her to take a closer look first. Slowly, Shelladda moved out of the shadows of the low trees and stood to her full height. Shelladda was a large woman, six feet tall, well fed and thickly proportioned. Stronger than most men who attempted to lay hands on her.

Thankfully that happened less and less nowadays. Shelladda was never beautiful to begin with, but now in her forties she was too old to be at all attractive. She was a druid besides, animals and other natural living things were her focus in all their many forms, and she often preferred their company to other humans.

Closeby, her personal animal companion and mount, a mighty wild bison named Ruddah, bellowed his discomfort sensing she was about to go nearer to danger. ~Calm yourself old friend, we will avenge them all I swear!~ She said soothingly via mental telepathy.

Steeling herself, Shelladda made her way around the outskirts of the killing zone, avoiding the hyenas and big cats. Not because they were likely to attack her, but out of respect. Her eyes scanned through the bloody grasses, counting Gnoll paw-prints, deconstructing the battle with how they lay. A stream of mental pictures came through her mind, a vision of the attack as it unfolded.

This was not like any ambush she had seen before. These Gnolls were not lying in wait for this herd, they seemingly appeared directly within their midst! Signs of stampede were evident in all directions. These animals bolted every which way to avoid the awful fangs and claws of their attackers. Some of their shepherds and the warriors were trampled by their own herd. She knew at least a dozen Gnolls were necessary to chase down so many panic-stricken men and beasts in such a broad area. More impressively, From the look of these tracks, all this killing was accomplished within ten minutes or less...

Shelladda quickly recognized signs... strange impressions in the earth, the odd-scattered spear and crude axe, the brutal rending tears of claws and teeth on flesh. Different species of Gnolls behaved differently and Shelladda already surmised this slaughter was not the work of the militant Warmonger Gnolls. If this had been their doing the killing would be cleaner, more efficient.

Warmonger Gnolls always peppered their foes with arrows and ranged weapons, hoping to provoke a panic before they surrounded them, closing in with heavy shields and bristling polearms in disciplined ranks until victory was assured. Only then would they charge to savor battle in closer quarters.

Tribal villages, Athenean towns and army patrols faced down Gnoll war parties at least once a month as dozens of Athenean soldiers died on the border wall attempting to keep them at bay every day. Attacks within the walls were usually tracked back to a weakness in the border defenses. A tunnel dug out by goblin slaves, ladders and ropes brought over the wall, holes breached through the wall itself by giants, etc.

Typically it was common Gnolls, or perhaps Flind Gnolls (The Elite Hunters) who infiltrated in groups small enough to evade patrols. Strangely, their tactics were usually smarter than this, often relying on ambush in favorable terrain to ensure none survived. This was different. The terrain was completely unfavorable to contain their prey. Stranger still... these Gnolls didn't move on again after their killing was done. As far as she could tell their tracks disappeared, as if the beasts vanished mid-step, likely with meat still hanging from their jaws?!

Shellada shook her head. How could so many Gnolls make it this far inland without being spotted? Especially ones so ferocious and fearless as these? Her mind itched as she remembered sites of other killings, similar in ferocity but not in scale, over two decades. An unlikely and eerie explanation resurfaced in her thoughts, the seed of a theory she’d never fully proven or fully discounted.

Shelladda realized only the most savage and bloodthirsty of Gnoll species... the so-called Rabid Gnolls could accomplish this carnage. She had only glimpsed one small pack in all her years of ranging across the frontier. Her memory of those hulking, bestial, canine humanoids covered in dull orange fur with the head and shoulders of hyenas striped in red or yellow patterns stretched down to large, powerfully clawed hands kept her up at night. The look of their bloodthirsty bloodshot eyes and the hauntingly snarling tone of their blood lust, foaming jaws, and oversize fangs was the stuff of nightmares!

Not much for armor or weapons, Rabid Gnolls preferred crude garments of coarse fabric, hides, or none at all. Stealth, self-restraint and patience were not in their nature either which meant some sort of dark magic was at work here! How else could they appear and vanish without a trace?!

[Shelladda: Please make Spot & Listen checks..It is late afternoon, hot but not mercilessly so in mid spring. Please describe any active spells, abilities or spell like effects you may be using. Feel free to attempt any other skill or knowledge checks you wish. You do not need to make rolls for your animal companion at this time.]

Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

The stench of bloody death. Shelladda stood amongst the aftermath of a massacre, overwhelmed trying to make heads or tails of it all. A primitive woman, who'd led an often solitary life in the wild, wasn't blessed with knowledge of dark magic, nor the motive that had ended these poor souls.

What she did have, was empathy and wisdom. An ability to whittle down to basics and gauge truth through what she witnessed and felt in her heart. She saw things simply, and oft this was a blessing in itself.

Death as such, was part of living. She knew the unbreakable link between the two and understood the needs of both. Yes, she'd witnessed death countless times. The hunting to survive. The work of herding and butchering to support their tribes. The need to establish rules and punishments as communities grew, tribal wars and misgivings too. Never though, had she seen such wanton killing as this. It appeared as brutality, plain and simple. One race's violence fueled by hatred alone. If there was more to it, she didn't know.

Shelladda's was a life of simplicity. Simple to those who didn't need to live it perhaps, with their razor-sharp weaponry, elite tactics, scrolls and modern ways. She was a wanderer, a friendly face in many of the villages though she never stayed long. The world around her was changing, yet just like a bison, she was firm and resolute in the path of her existence. She cared little for the concept of settling down, nor did she aspire to marriage, children and all that follows. She was too old for that anyway. Instead, the woman roamed here and there among nature's friendship, slowly gaining a reputation for her healing hands and warming spirit among her kind.

Shelladda lived hand-to-mouth as best she could, yet the cold clutches of currency and commercialization had also had their way. A people who once bartered or traded were becoming monetized. Coin. It was changing everything. Even in the wilderness the old ways were slowly being unlearned. In order to survive, she'd had to adapt. Still though, it was a good life, visiting peoples who respected her skills with their flocks, packs and herds. She had a knack with animals, her ability to both understand and heal bringing trust and friendship wherever she walked. Coin. She was running low, but it didn't worry her.

The scene was like a great black cloud. An ominous symbol that her way of life was truly under threat.

In an old fur cloak upon simple underclothes of woven field-grass, stood with spears strapped to her back and a blade by her side, Shelladda began to sing.

From the fields we arose and from the land we return,
our blood with the soil to grow trees and ferns.
Hand in hand we watch Karfulu as she cuts,
laying trenches for our youth, our seedlings and nuts.

Soon, it would be time to walk. A visit to the Omoro. The concept of relaying her testimony to them was as if a great weight had been strapped upon her back. But she was Karfulu's! She would carry! She would walk! She would tell them what she knew! This was the way of her people.

As much as she wished to leave this hell immediately however, she knew further respect than this was due. She'd depart when she was certain, knowing without a doubt that all before her had been branded on her mind.

She turned her head to the light breeze in the air. She narrowed her gaze and scanned everything once more.

(Spot: = 10)
(Listen: = 24)

This, she told herself, she would never forget. Their kin would request details and truth. She would do her best to learn what she could.

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Shelladda

From a distance of perhaps 15 yards, you hear a pair of high pitched voices in a harsh guttural language.

Voice 1: "Taal or! Kuush dhuur dekhaaraan."

Voice 2: "Kuush ar dar Lhalach! A dac duun ghalaan a khraal merthaan dhuur ghec tech dhuul ar merthaan."

Voice 1: "Druuc o kaalkaalkaar Grauls rhuur rhaalec or ker daan kan delkaan o dreruukaal?"

The language is easily enough to identify as Goblin, if not so easily understood. At this moment you cannot yet spot the evil little humanoids among the boulders, shrubs and fever trees around the outskirts of the meadow. But you do surmise their distance and the direction of their approach. It seems they're following the trail of tracks left by the herd.

Goblins are reviled by most intelligent races here in the Commonwealth, a hatred shared by the Goblins themselves who disrespect all life for no other reason than to defile, despoil and profane. Their tribes are dug into the frontier as thick as ticks, usually in caves, emerging at night to lurk around the fringes of towns and villages. Good people keep their children close to home for that reason, and travel in groups of four or more to discourage Goblin ambush.

You are also aware there are some who make a habit of dealing with them once they learn their vile tongue, hiring and training them for nefarious deeds. (Usually bandits, smugglers and thieves guilds) For this reason it is not uncommon for certain tribes to learn deadly skills like poison making, trap making and sometimes alchemy. Certain trading posts and villages permit regular visits by Goblin traders, a practice largely frowned upon. Druids typically consider Goblins a menace to all life deserved of extermination.

At this moment, the scavengers also take note of those voices. Raising their ears and staring into the brush. Lions and Hyenas will sometimes charge and chase away Goblins defending their kills, but otherwise avoid the filthy humanoids and their deadly poisoned arrows.

[Shelladda: Roll initiative. Note: You can take a single move action to rush for cover. (Normally if you also intend to move silently while you move for cover, that reduces your speed by half and thus takes two move actions. But both Hide and Move Silently are not class skills for Shelladda.) I will permit you to use Move Silently and Hide as cross-class skills in this situation because this is the natural environment you are most familiar with.]

Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

Shelladda flinched.

~Goblins Goblins!~

It sounded like their were only a pair, and the tribal druid would have had no qualms making herself known and dealing with them first-hand, except for the circumstances. The closeness of their proximity didn't bode well. It was strange that they had arrived here so swiftly to the scene of a massacre. Perhaps they were involved somehow? Or merely here to disgrace the dead by nabbing personal belongings? Surely herders wouldn't have much though. She chose to restrain herself, and let her burning hatred be little more than a firm face... for now. Better to linger, and see what information they might add to the horrific mess.

Now Shelladda wasn't really a hider, nor a runaway type. Her physique simply didn't suit it. She was large, thick, heavy, and had no reputation for swift movement nor grace. She would try though, hoping to quietly duck for cover and make shelter behind one of the land's lonely boulders. Perhaps they'd be stupid enough not to notice.

[Initiative = 19. Pre-emptive Move Silently = 3. Hide = 2 (Natural 1!) ]

~Bulaggara Rikkorik!~

She cursed in her native tongue. Her mass and lack of tact had probably only served to make her more obvious!

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Shelladda

You manage to move first and conceal yourself somewhat. (You have used one move action)

The pair of goblins move out of the brush into view a mere 30 ft. away. One is shorter, merely three feet tall wielding a crossbow. The other is over three and a half feet tall holding a shield and spear with a battle axe at his hip. Both are dressed in tattered leathers with crude wrappings fashioned like mocassins around large dirtied feet protruding with dirty claws. Their thin bodies have assorted sacks, pouches and other equipment tied and hanging from straps around their shoulders and hips. This pair appears to be outfitted for a longer trek as if they were trailing this tribe for days.

Their faces are ugly and animalistic with oversized brows and sloped forheads. Long wiry hair tufts around oversized and pointed ears. These creatures seem to move with a purpose, already scanning the corpses with their deeply set glassy black eyes.

Short Goblin: (Initiative 2) "Graul Hach tan daan akhaal an shagel rhec a talkac. Kuush dhuur a dhakec dhaakhaagaal maarthaan."

Tall Goblin: (Initiative 2) "Dar't a maarthaan?"

Clearly the short one has a bit more brains than the taller one. He seems to talk at him with annoyance, but the taller one seems to merely ask questions instead of dominating him the way larger goblins tend to do to with smaller ones.

[Shelladda: What do you do? For the moment they appear distracted enough that you could possibly attack by surprise with a ranged weapon or spell, or you can remain still, do nothing and hope you aren't spotted for the rest of the round? If they don't spot you, you will still act first the following round.]

Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

She clenched her jaw and dropped lower into the undergrowth, which wasn't nearly tall nor thick enough to offer decent concealment. Till now though, it had worked just fine.

Shelladda resisted the urge to just lob a spear at one of them. Had things been different she would have just cleansed the land of the ugly pair, but right now too much was unknown.

No, better to wait and see if they offer up some insight through their actions or deeds. The druidess waited quietly in a defensive pose.

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Shelladda vs the two Goblins

Short Goblin: (Spot Check: = 13, Success)

The short goblin spots you crouched a mere stones throw away and shrieks "Molkac!" before he raises his crossbow and fires!

(Ranged Crossbow attack: = 22, Hits!)(Location: = 3: Right Shoulder )(Damage: = 1)

The goblins aim is much better than average for one of his kind and the black-tipped bolt pierces your hide armor on your right shoulder, though only barely, dealing minimal damage. [-1 to all checks until the bolt is removed; see Combat House Rules]

[Shelladda: Make a Fortitude Save vs. poison. Because you used a delayed action you can still react before the tall goblins turn. You can only take one move action, cast a spell, or make one ranged attack with a readied weapon before the end of the round. What do you do?]

Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

The large native woman glanced to her shoulder, a fresh site of stinging pain.

"Evil vermin!" she exclaimed in native tongue.

Thankfully, the woman's muscles were protected by a firm and age-old layer of fat. The arrowhead had neither detached nor dug too far. That didn't really change anything though. Now, on principal alone, these two scoundrels had it coming!

A firey glare came from her deep dark eyes as she looked to her assailants. So many options to deal with these two, but sometimes the traditional method is best. Tried and tested. She stepped back and drew a spear into her right hand, and brought her wooden shield out before her whilst stepping back.

"Jugga juggo!" She called, waving the spear up and down in her first. ~Come get some!~

[Fort Save = 17. Shelladda is taking a 5ft step back and using free-actions to prepare herself for next round.]

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Shelladda vs the two Goblins

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<Round 1>

Bleeding Damage ( * )
Fire Damage ( # )
Cold Damage ( @ )
Spell Damage ( ^ )
Spell Healing ( ^ )
Poison Damage ( ! )

The order of initiative is:

(19) Shelladda (-1)
(3) Short Goblin
(2) Tall Goblin

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As you ready your stance, the tall Goblin does likewise, on the defensive as he speaks to the short goblin.

Tall Goblin: "Or huuruuc an'd duugec Gnadrezz?! Taan't rhec, ogaac dhuur a molkac dhaalkal'daan. Daan tuuch dhaan!"

Short Goblin: "Graul dech haaguukal'dec hoch or hor or ar daan druun Cravekz. A'k araan ghec ghuun draarthec huuruuc. O tac hor!"

The short goblin ends the round by reloading his crossbow... but he does not grab one of several from his quiver, instead he grabs a single bolt from a wrist sheath sewn into a leather bracer on his forearm.

__________________________________________

<End of Round 1>

[Shelladda: You are first to act on round 2. Declare your actions.]

Shelladda - Grasses & Blood

Shelladda noticed little beast's ongoing conversation, but that didn't change anything. They'd started this! She drew a quick breath between her ample lips, held the air in her lungs a moment, and then with a great exhale let her spear take to the air.

"Gula!"

It wasn't a lobbing to be overly proud of, as it sped off "vaguely" towards the shorter of the two nasties.

Before the primitive weapon had even landed, she drew another. Even if she wasn't the best shot where agility was concerned, she always favored its reach as a melee weapon, if it came to that.

[Attack Short Goblin = 10. Probably a miss but rolled the following just in case: Hit Location = Left Arm, Damage = 11. For her move action she is readying another spear.]

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