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RuneQuest - Cayuga's Tale - Guardians of Highmead [Upd 29th Sept]
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<blockquote data-quote="PieAndDragon" data-source="post: 3596665" data-attributes="member: 18108"><p><strong>Trail to Balazor</strong></p><p></p><p>We spent little time in introductions, and I had several weeks to become used to my fellow travellers. The three were used to each other and had fought in battle side-by-side before, if their tales were true. Khaki and Hoisin had known each other the longest, often referring to missing companions dead or retired from the adventuring life. From what I heard, they have seen their share of terrifying, wondrous and bizarre things in the world.</p><p></p><p>Hoisin seemed unconvinced by my answers to queries on my battle skills. He sneered when told I preferred to avoid fights, unimpressed when I mentioned tactics of stealth and patience. The javelin and bow were questioned as choices for battle, of no use when foes came close. He told me he disliked those who could not hold their own in combat, shaking his head at mention I was reasonable with a spear. The other two are less narrow-minded, more appreciating that there are times for violence, and other times for caution instead.</p><p></p><p>I soon learnt that, until recently, they had been companions of my cousin Teal. He journeyed with them into troll lands and back, only to die at the hands of man-scorpions a weeks travel from Jonstown. Neither they nor I will miss Teal too much. Pious and a skilled warrior he was, but overbearing, overzealous, arrogant and too opinionated to be borne for long. He got what he wanted and deserved, a violent a bloody death in battle, in service to the Sky Lord.</p><p></p><p>Orville, my spirit-bound hawk, was happy to be away from Jonstown, glorifying in his freedom on the winds, diving occasionally to pick off a rabbit or rat with sharp claws. He has been my loyal friend for nearly two years, a present from my father before he died in the chaos attacks soon after. I know where he is at all times, and sometimes lean on his strength in dangerous times, drawing power through the link which binds us.</p><p></p><p>A couple of weeks out of Jonstown, folk from a small village greeted Hoisin and Khaki, with one particular girl most happy to see the Humakti swordsman. They had defended the village a couple of years before, and provided us with most welcome hospitality. We didn’t stay longer than the one night, with Hoisin keen to move on as soon as possible.</p><p></p><p>We slept wherever was convenient, sometimes in caves, other times by streams, among defensible rocks or in tree copses, starting to show life after the winter cold. In the evenings we told various stories and tales, sometimes our own, sometimes of others, from folklore, legend and more personal sources. I spoke of my family and its curse and they of battles with rubble runners, trolls, baboons and rock lizards. We kept our skills honed, practicing with spears, axes, blades and maces. I experimented several times with my own bastard swords, hoping to eventually master the fighting style of simultaneous spear and sword another initiate had demonstrated at the temple of Yelmalio while I was in Jonstown</p><p></p><p>The two Humakti would normally drink into the early hours, long after the women had retired for their sleep. I would relieve the two for the night watch, content with my own company for a few hours, catching more sleep when Khaki took over into the dawn hours. Unlike my brethren and family, I rarely meet the sun at dawn to sing praises to the Sky Lord, as noon is as good a time as any. Most mornings Khaki and I would share a breakfast between the two of us, she cooking me a meatless meal in exchange for several rabbits Orville took down for us. We are coming to a good understanding, the Savankan and I.</p><p></p><p>We saw few others along the way, as I guided them with vague memories of the route taken a year before. One evening we avoided a cave with bear tracks before it, seeking not to anger such a dangerous creature without due cause. Another night we were attacked by a large pack of wolves, nearly ten strong. But with my warnings, my companions roused themselves quickly enough to drive the animals away. I slew three of the beasts with javelin and spear, and Khaki and Liverpate claimed two more apiece. Yet Hoisin was unimpressed by my prowess, even as he could claim no carcasses for his own, decrying wolves as no danger to warriors such as us.</p><p></p><p>I saw the deep bite wounds Khaki took, and definitely disagree.</p><p></p><p>As we came nearer to the Balazar hunting grounds, and still encountered no other people, I started to hunt bison to supplement our food, even though my vows to Yelmalio prevent me from eating meats. Strangely, a few corpses to feast on seemed to improve Hoisin’s opinion of me, such are the things minds of men are swayed by.</p><p></p><p>After almost two months of travel, I was sure we were in Balazor lands, and finally encountered some sign of sentient creatures. What looked to be a burial mound rose from the grasslands around, and I went alone to investigate, using the grass to cover my approach. A bizarre cockerel-headed lizard-like creature guarded the pile of earth, but no other sign of others was visible. After returning to the others we approached again, and the creature moved to block us, but did not attack. Hoisin circled round and investigated the mound more closely, but found no openings or other signs of sentient marks.</p><p></p><p>To my surprise, the others were content not to attack the indignant guard, assuming this was a burial ground to be left alone. My companions may be less bloodthirsty than I initially imagined. Perhaps this time in Balazor can be profitable for us all.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="PieAndDragon, post: 3596665, member: 18108"] [B]Trail to Balazor[/B] We spent little time in introductions, and I had several weeks to become used to my fellow travellers. The three were used to each other and had fought in battle side-by-side before, if their tales were true. Khaki and Hoisin had known each other the longest, often referring to missing companions dead or retired from the adventuring life. From what I heard, they have seen their share of terrifying, wondrous and bizarre things in the world. Hoisin seemed unconvinced by my answers to queries on my battle skills. He sneered when told I preferred to avoid fights, unimpressed when I mentioned tactics of stealth and patience. The javelin and bow were questioned as choices for battle, of no use when foes came close. He told me he disliked those who could not hold their own in combat, shaking his head at mention I was reasonable with a spear. The other two are less narrow-minded, more appreciating that there are times for violence, and other times for caution instead. I soon learnt that, until recently, they had been companions of my cousin Teal. He journeyed with them into troll lands and back, only to die at the hands of man-scorpions a weeks travel from Jonstown. Neither they nor I will miss Teal too much. Pious and a skilled warrior he was, but overbearing, overzealous, arrogant and too opinionated to be borne for long. He got what he wanted and deserved, a violent a bloody death in battle, in service to the Sky Lord. Orville, my spirit-bound hawk, was happy to be away from Jonstown, glorifying in his freedom on the winds, diving occasionally to pick off a rabbit or rat with sharp claws. He has been my loyal friend for nearly two years, a present from my father before he died in the chaos attacks soon after. I know where he is at all times, and sometimes lean on his strength in dangerous times, drawing power through the link which binds us. A couple of weeks out of Jonstown, folk from a small village greeted Hoisin and Khaki, with one particular girl most happy to see the Humakti swordsman. They had defended the village a couple of years before, and provided us with most welcome hospitality. We didn’t stay longer than the one night, with Hoisin keen to move on as soon as possible. We slept wherever was convenient, sometimes in caves, other times by streams, among defensible rocks or in tree copses, starting to show life after the winter cold. In the evenings we told various stories and tales, sometimes our own, sometimes of others, from folklore, legend and more personal sources. I spoke of my family and its curse and they of battles with rubble runners, trolls, baboons and rock lizards. We kept our skills honed, practicing with spears, axes, blades and maces. I experimented several times with my own bastard swords, hoping to eventually master the fighting style of simultaneous spear and sword another initiate had demonstrated at the temple of Yelmalio while I was in Jonstown The two Humakti would normally drink into the early hours, long after the women had retired for their sleep. I would relieve the two for the night watch, content with my own company for a few hours, catching more sleep when Khaki took over into the dawn hours. Unlike my brethren and family, I rarely meet the sun at dawn to sing praises to the Sky Lord, as noon is as good a time as any. Most mornings Khaki and I would share a breakfast between the two of us, she cooking me a meatless meal in exchange for several rabbits Orville took down for us. We are coming to a good understanding, the Savankan and I. We saw few others along the way, as I guided them with vague memories of the route taken a year before. One evening we avoided a cave with bear tracks before it, seeking not to anger such a dangerous creature without due cause. Another night we were attacked by a large pack of wolves, nearly ten strong. But with my warnings, my companions roused themselves quickly enough to drive the animals away. I slew three of the beasts with javelin and spear, and Khaki and Liverpate claimed two more apiece. Yet Hoisin was unimpressed by my prowess, even as he could claim no carcasses for his own, decrying wolves as no danger to warriors such as us. I saw the deep bite wounds Khaki took, and definitely disagree. As we came nearer to the Balazar hunting grounds, and still encountered no other people, I started to hunt bison to supplement our food, even though my vows to Yelmalio prevent me from eating meats. Strangely, a few corpses to feast on seemed to improve Hoisin’s opinion of me, such are the things minds of men are swayed by. After almost two months of travel, I was sure we were in Balazor lands, and finally encountered some sign of sentient creatures. What looked to be a burial mound rose from the grasslands around, and I went alone to investigate, using the grass to cover my approach. A bizarre cockerel-headed lizard-like creature guarded the pile of earth, but no other sign of others was visible. After returning to the others we approached again, and the creature moved to block us, but did not attack. Hoisin circled round and investigated the mound more closely, but found no openings or other signs of sentient marks. To my surprise, the others were content not to attack the indignant guard, assuming this was a burial ground to be left alone. My companions may be less bloodthirsty than I initially imagined. Perhaps this time in Balazor can be profitable for us all. [/QUOTE]
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RuneQuest - Cayuga's Tale - Guardians of Highmead [Upd 29th Sept]
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