(Casual D&D II) The Fellowship of the White Dove

[DrZombie]

"I'll take the third watch" Raven offers "just make sure you wake me on time."

He shares the few scrawny rabbits he has shot during his advance scouting with the rest of the group. "It ain't much, but it's enough."
After the meal he licks the grease from his fingers, belches contently, makes himself comfortable and closes his eyes. A few minutes later gentle snoring can be heard.

 

[Sparky]

Oliver broods silently as the group settles the watch order scratching his stubbled chin. He chimes in when most folks have claimed a watch, "I'll take the second watch. I don't sleep so good, these days," he coughs and his red-rimmed eyes water. "Especially out of doors."

He grunts at Fendric's words, "Surprise," he grumbles, eyes rolling briefly heavenward.

The clasp of his long cloak jingling faintly the he turns to begin unburdening Bastrop, first taking Winkle's cage and placing it somewhere it won't be kicked over or stepped on. Once he wrestles the pack to the ground, with muttered thanks for any help, he rubs Bastrop down and ties him up to graze. He nods a thanks to Raven for catching the rabbits, securing bit of uncooked rabbit for Winkle which the bird greedily wolfs amidst a string of dire oaths and curses from Oliver as the sharp beak indiscriminately snaps at food and finger alike.

Oliver gives Griscle a nasty look when the dog, curious about the caged bird and the scent of raw rabbit flesh, gets too near for Oli's comfort. He snaps at Nurthk, "Get that mutt away from Winkle!" He rushes to the cage murmuring over the ruffled bird and removes it to a more 'private' part of the camp, stabbing angry glares at Griscle and Nurthk both.

Once both Bastrop and Winkle are seen to Oliver slumps down with a grunt, wheezing faintly and cradling his left arm. Not gonna see the other side of the pass. He sits quietly for a moment, face gray and strained. The malaise seems to pass and he goes over to the pack saddle and undoes the straps of the pack saddle and pulls out two cases. Instrument cases.

The cases themselves are wooden, inlaid, gleaming with years of care and polish. The instruments within are breathtaking. The lute - not at all the one from Caval's Horde - is a fine, ebonwood thing inlaid with mother of pearl up the fret board. He inspects the instrument and case carefully, religiously. Good. Rain didn't get in. He checks the other instrument, an exsquisite lyre which matches the lute, darkly gleaming in the failing light. He tunes the lute up and sits there with it cradled in his lap looking inexplicably sad.

He blinks, remembering where he is, and grins at Niccolo, "I think you'll find this one isn't out of tune, friend Gnome."

 

[Festy_Dog]

"Get that mutt away from Winkle!"

Nurthk spins round to witness Oliver rescuing his bird from Griscle. With a short sharp whistle Griscle's attention is brought back to his humanoid companion.

"Heel," he says sternly, and then to Oliver in turn he bows his head for a moment, "Apologies."

...stabbing angry glares at Griscle and Nurthk both.

Hmm, grumpy old fellow, but while he's with us I guess he's under my protection.

 

[Guilt Puppy]

(Auto-placing Orbril on first watch, Niccolo on second...)

Less than an hour into sleep, Niccolo is awakened by a rather persistently unpleasant cormorant; it fails to do more than deliver a few light surface scratches before being laid to rest with Shavah's assistance, but it's enough to interrupt sleep.

The flapping and squawking involved is enough to wake up pretty much anyone, although there's nothing to stop any of you from going back to sleep, save Fendric, who Shavah insists upon having some sort of comment from.

(For my future reference, could I get some listen and spot checks from everyone?)

(Very OOC: I used to get attacked by cormorants quite frequently during early summers in my home town... If I, as a first-level commoner, was able to consistently emerge from these battles unscathed, I think it's safe to assume that it's not worth rolling any dice about.)

 

[Sparky]

Listen: (7+10) = 17
Spot: (19+10) = 29 uh... woot.

Oliver hasn't really slept, the night sounds and a persistent cough makes rest difficult. The racket of the cormorant attack ignites old instincts and he is crouched low with a bared dagger in his hand in a flash. Eyes wide he peers into the darkness.

He slowly realizes what has happened and where he is. He sheathes the dagger with a rueful grimace. Sharp as a brick, Salmander. He smoothes his fly-away white wisping hair and peers around in the campsite. Bastrop's okay. Winkle. Yup.

He bends over Bastrop's packsaddle and looks for a brief moment at Shavah before pulling a dark bundle from the pack, a handsomely crafted set of studded-leather armor. The studs in the center of the chest are cleverly placed and shaped to form the icon of the salamander biting it's tail - the symbol on his hand. A matched set of black-sheathed shortswords follows and a brace of daggers as well. He handles all the gear gingerly.

Amidst much grunting and growled oaths he manages to don the armor. He belts on the blades and with a flourish swings his cloak around his shoulders, tiny icons tinkling. He stoops once more to the pack and pulls out a particularly deadly looking crossbow.

As the old man gears up the oaths and curses fall away. His coughing seems more controlled. His hands fly swiftly over his equipment, checking it with the greased precision of long practice. The hands remember what the head forgets. He stands, cloak swirling around his feet. He stalks over to Shavah, graceful and surefooted. Transformed.

"Mind if I start my watch early? Wasn't sleeping anyway."

 

[DrZombie]

[spot 18, listes nat 1 huh? did you hear something? what did you say? WHAT DID YOU SAY?]

 

[dpdx]

Less than an hour into sleep, Niccolo is awakened by a rather persistently unpleasant cormorant; it fails to do more than deliver a few light surface scratches before being laid to rest with Shavah's assistance, but it's enough to interrupt sleep.

The flapping and squawking involved is enough to wake up pretty much anyone, although there's nothing to stop any of you from going back to sleep, save Fendric, who Shavah insists upon having some sort of comment from.

(Very OOC: I used to get attacked by cormorants quite frequently during early summers in my home town...)

[many thanks for the hilarity, both for the treasureable "attacked by wild cormorants" story, and Oliver's "surprise" comment. I heart this PbP.]

[Listen: 7 + 5 = 12]
[Spot: 6 + 4 = 10]

my dices am hot today...

Fendric stares wide-eyed at the cormorant attack on Niccolo, but before he can grab his flail to subdue the horrid bird, Shavah has taken care of it.

With an irritated but disaffected look on his face, waiting for the next "wave" of creatures, Fendric speaks into the wilderness at a volume more designed to inspire himself than to rouse anything nearby: "Is that the best you have? I've seen more ferocity from the Burgher's Petting Parlor! And if you're going to send us food, you can at least send it at a decent hour!"

Fendric is obviously distracted, but not so much that he doesn't check to see if Niccolo is all right. Once that is confirmed, and the patrons settle back into sleep, he beckons Shavah over.

"That... was strange, may the Light Reveal Its Mystery. Thank you for dealing with it. Do the two of you have a moment to talk?

Anyway, I've been thinking some about what the Ravast said, and that maybe we should have a look at one of the letters, on the inside. I thought perhaps we should look at one of the ones to be delivered overseas, far north of here, for as there to be a more plausible explanation if/when we can deliver it for it having been opened.

I've trusted the Old Cavalier who sent us on our way, that this mission was true, ever since we began.

Now it nags at me that at both of our stops, the day after our business is done, something awful happens. We deliver Exantrius' letter to Father Premule in Jance, only to find out that he is not there, and the next day, we nearly engage in violent confrontation with a passel of guards. We then deliver Exantrius' letter through Father Premule to the Visach, and the following morning, half our party leaves us, Shavah's garrison have been expelled from town, and Father Premule is abducted.

Sometimes I fear we are the harbingers of plague, like the Ravast seems to think, and it frustrates me that however wise the Radiant Light saw fit to make me with regard to my Holy Service, I am a fool in the ways of the world."

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk wakes with a start, but once Shavah deals with the cormorant he starts thinking.

"I hope that wasn't some kind of scout," he mumbles, audible enough for those nearby to hear.

"Is that the best you have? I've seen more ferocity from the Burgher's Petting Parlor! And if you're going to send us food, you can at least send it at a decent hour!"

He winces upon hearing the cleric yell.

Nothing I can do to undo that now.

"Anyone who is looking for will likely find us now," Nurthk says, more loudly this time.

Griscle sniffs the dead cormorant, nudging it with his nose, seeming to assess whether it was worth eating.

"Sometimes I fear we are the harbingers of plague, like the Ravast seems to think, and it frustrates me that however wise the Radiant Light saw fit to make me with regard to my Holy Service, I am a fool in the ways of the world."

"You make a perfectly good leader, don't start doubting yourself now after going so far. Don't blame yourself for coincidence either, what happened happened, you are doing your duty," Nurthk says.

In the dark it looks as though Nurthk does something to his collar, then gets up and moves over to Fendric, pressing something into his hand. He leans in to whisper something.

[ooc: For Fendric's ears only unless your char has an especially good listen check I guess.]

"Here, if you doubt your own wisdom this will aid you more than I. Everyone looks to clerics for insightful advice, more often than they look to bounty hunters anyway. And though I'm sure you could easily get by without, take it anyway, [ooc: it's the periapt of wisdom +2 the ravast gave him]" Nurthk says, and gives Fendric a slap on the shoulder.

Ignoring any attempts by Fendric to return what Nurthk gave he'll return to his bedroll is and sleep until his watch.

Listen: 12
Spot: 25 (nat 20!)

 

[dpdx]

He winces upon hearing the cleric yell.

[Sorry, that wasn't very coherent of me. I meant my description to mean that it was more conversational in volume, and not shouting, per se.]

 

[Sparky]

OOC: What language is that Nurthk just spoke? 17 for Oli's Listen check and I'll read it if that's high enough/he knows the language.