Crossed Paths, Part II

Manzanita

First Post
Summary of Part I

You have all been summoned in some way. Your individual mentor has given you some advice. If you’ve lost track of this, I can resend it.

Upon arrival in Sevastopol, you are informed of the Wendol, which is the worst threat to the city since slaver raids 25 years earlier. The Wendol tend to show up every 200 years.

The town of Sevastopol has largely been peaceful and secure before the wendol came, although about 25 years ago, it was raided by a group of beastmen who abducted many of their citizens, who have not been seen since.

You were attacked by a Manticore which seemed to have a grudge against Roman archeologists. Later you are told by the dwarves that such a group has recently been active in the area.

The dwarves of “The Hold”mentioned some wood elves who live in the north of the peninsula.

You’ve seen signs of an Orc tribe known as the Red Talon, who supposedly have a red dragon as their patron.

You have learned from various sources that this peninsula was once the location of a war between the Melnibonean elves and a race of magic-using lizardmen. This was several thousand years ago.

The party leaves Sevastopol on October 13th.



Part II

The horses snort, leaving gusts of condensation in the cold air as the party assembles outside the Inn in the morning of October 13th. Despite the cold, today seems an opportune time to depart. Though still welcome in the town, attention paid to the party has greatly diminished. Men have left to harvest their tender crops before the early frost. Women have retreated to their homes to weatherproof for the winter. Countless tasks, delayed by the fear of the wendol, now demand attention.

The party has decided to depart on horseback. Mendicus leads a well-laiden mule behind his horse, with plentiful provisions for at least a week. The party generally feels the well-being of the extra pounds packed on the past week. Apart from a hangover or two, everyone feels invigorated by chilly weather and their warm clothes.

The first day of travel is the easiest. They party trot through the farmlands, which trail out into the light hills and woods. You see no signs of hostile activity this first day, and Brioc, after consultations with Tula, feels confident he is leading his company in the right direction.

After about 20 miles, the party camps for the night. Mendicus cooks a lush dinner, the last fresh meal you’ll have for some time. As it gets dark, the party beds down for the night.

Please determine if you’ll try to keep the fire going all night, and post a watch order. Note any other preparations. Is Ehldannis preparing his combat or non-combat spell list? Does anyone not want a horse?
 
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Inez Hull

First Post
"Brioc, have you any idea of what we're headed towards? I know your master has given you instructions for your ears alone as leader of our company, but we should know at least what perils may lay beyond."


[OOC: Ehldannis will request a permanent position in the first watch, so that he can get a block of uninterupted sleep each night for memorising spells if necessary. Manzanita, at present I will go with the non-combat spell list I gave you but I will swap out Featherfall for Sleep.]
 

Manzanita

First Post
We're stagnating a bit here. I hope you're all having nice holidays. But anyway, any more comments on watch or fire? If not I'll advance the plot tomorrow assuming you try to keep a fire all night and random watch after Ehldannis.
 

Manzanita

First Post
night

The company makes camp. Over his protests, Mendicus is excused from watch duty. He does help gather wood until you have sufficient supply to last the night. He also asks to participate in any further training Octar gives to Marcus. "I fear I'll need all the help with weapons that I can get on this mission."

Ehldannis takes the first watch. The temperature drops as darkness falls, and the elf pulls his thick woolen cloak tightly about him. His hour passes uneventfully, and he pulls his attention away from the observation of constellations to awake the next watch, Brioc.

Brioc pulls on his armor and weapons. He listens to the dim call of the animals, the swoosh of the bats, and takes some practice swings with his new scimitar. It feels light and deadly in his hand. Suddently he starts, as he sees a flash of flame appear about 30 feet away. It's light reveals a man approaching. The flame appears to be at the end of a long spear that he holds. Marcus hears him gasp in Latin "Wha...." Ignoring Brioc, he lowers the spear and begins examining the flaming tip.
 


doghead

thotd
Marcus shrugs the blanket from his shoulders, takes up his sword belt and rises to his feet. He loosens the short sword in its sheath as he steps over to Octar. Keeping his eyes on the figure he drops to a crouch and touches the sleeping man lightly on the shoulder.

"We have some company ... but he doesn't seem threatening so far, " he says quietly, before standing again.
 

Manzanita

First Post
Thank you, Doghead. I was going to give everyone a 10% chance of being awake, but forgot. Let's just say Marcus was also awake.
 


Thomas Hobbes

First Post
Octar rises to slow wakefullness at his friend's touch, getting up with little grace while strapping on his sword belt and picking up his bow.

"Who goes there?" he shouts at the man in latin, assuming nothing has happened while he was readying himself.
 

Manzanita

First Post
fair enough, doghead, although it was a typo. I meant to say 'Brioc'. Happy to have the story moving along, in any case.



The man starts at Octar's call. "Oh, hail. I come in peace." he says in perfect Latin. "My party was sacked by orcs. I escaped." He walks towards the party until he is clearly visible in the firelight. He is tall and stongly built, and dressed like a Roman Centurian. He wears the studded leather armor common to scouts, archers and some commanders in the Roman Legion. Over this he wears a scarlet cloak. A backpack rests on his back, and short sword is belted to his side. He has a thick black beard, which grows high on his cheeks and flows seemlessly down his neck to merge with his chest hair. He has large features and has a sort of militant charisma. All his clothes and gear show signs of living outdoors. All are worn and dirty. He clearly hasn't had a bath in awhile, you notice as he gets closer.



He places the haft of his long spear deliberately on the ground, and looks up at the glowing tip with wonder. "My spear has never done this before. Do you have some sort of defensive magic?"
 
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