(Casual D&D IV) A Knight for a Pawn

[dpdx]

"I do not wish to remain here a Light's Whisper longer than I already have," pronounces Fendric as he tends to wounded of his own party.

"Whether that is enough to overcome our morbid fascination with protecting a group of my fellow sun-worshippers that have proven themselves mostly self-sufficient is another question. I certainly would not suspect that this is the last and only abomination of the dwem, but it must rest upon our gracious hosts ultimately to deal with it and all subsequent: we cannot remain here indefinitely, so the weaning must perhaps start now."

Hiritus swallows a small bite of tack, but says nothing. Fendric notices this.

"Shall I presume that you are of the subterranean opinion, Brother?"

"Subtewha-? Oh. Well, it's only that something like that golem could only have been made at a forge, right? If we found that forge, it might have weapons that we could use... But Tourne's fine with me, too."

 

[Guilt Puppy]

For the most part, the scarves hang back as you deliberate, busy with the task of rebuilding what they can, performing rites for the dead, and simply trying to determine what their plan of action is, at this point. Eventually, one man does stop forward to interrupt you -- an older fellow, compared to the bulk of this clan, but with no apparent role of leadership beyond that -- and to offer his own advice.

"Thanks on all you, and no doubt. But if your talk is what I'm hearing, there's no need for it. Go where there you're needed; our troubles can be ours, and they'll be handled. When everyone's well and rested, we'll check in the hole, and if there's another rod-man, we'll have numbers on it. As for this one..." He looks back at the group still stationed there, knocking the thing around at regular intervals. "If that's the only way we can find to handle it, well, that's what we'll keep on doing. But we've some smarts among us, too, and I give us a fair draw at figuring something better."

(By the way, last I counted, everyone but Raven was wearing a scarf. Let me know if and/or when this ceases to be the case.)

 

[DrZombie]

Raven listens to the man. "Fair enough." He says and turns to the other. '"If they wanna handle it, fine."

 

[Sparky]

"I'd counsel against going deeper into the cave. Rested or otherwise." He shrugs, "But you do seem to have that thing well in hand." He looks over at the young men who have devised a crude set of rules and points as they bat the automaton carcass around.

"Thanks, lads, for the shelter. And the supplies before." He turns to trudge out of the cave and calls over his shoulder, "Don't take any wooden ducats."

On an impulse, he holds out his arm at Winkle who blinks impassively, ostentatiously settling feathers on his gleaming white chest before hopping, with a flare of wings, onto the old man's arm. The bird's weight quickly tires the old man's arm and with some fluttering - and a lot of muttering - the bird settles onto Oliver's shoulder.

Outside he squints into the glare of the sun. Whistler ambles over, cropping vainly at the tough sea grass. Oliver pats the horse and gives Bastrop's ears a rub. He takes a deep breath, smelling the surf. The surf that tried to kill them. He looks up the rocky slope.

"I don't know about you lot, but I'm getting well above the tide."

 

[dpdx]

Fendric and Hiritus say their goodbyes to the scarves, and congregate with the rest of the party.

"We are resolved, then. We shall make our excursion to Tourne to deliver these last two letters, and then we shall be free from obligation. Alas, I suspect we will have our hands full at that time with whatever the delivery of these letters will have wrought."

[They're both wearing a yellow scarf, and expecting to head to Tourne.]

 

[Festy_Dog]

Nurthk seems satisfied at the decision to press on.

"The going may be a little slow, I lack enough coin to replace Gale," he explains.

 

[DrZombie]

"Raven, to Nurthk" Raven instructs his raven as he rides forward to scout the way ahead.

 

[dpdx]

Hiritus, with Fendric also mounted aboard Justice, mentions:

"Remember Redrick said we shouldn't wear the scarves once we crossed into Tourne? I wonder if they've been fighting a border war with them."

Fendric, seething behind Hiritus, mutters:

"Remember also that whatever summoned those things at us this last day, lies in this direction as well, may the Radiant Light Burn the Breath from its Bosom!"

 

[Sparky]

Oliver looks down from the top of the cliff at the mounded rocks below. Gulls spar and cry at one another, trying to get at the dead flesh beneath the stones. He grits his teeth at the skittering creatures darting in and out of the voids between the stones. Crabs. He looks at Nurthk sadly, "I don't weigh much, you can ride with me and Whistler. I think we might both have to pack our armor onto Bastrop. Might not be the best idea." He clears his throat and scratches at his temple.

"Fendric," Oliver grates, "We're headed north." He emphasizes the direction with a thrust of his chin, "Those arrowhawks came from out over the water." He points off east.

"Has the Radiant Light revealed something to that you haven't shared?"

 

[dpdx]

"Oliver..."

Hiritus accompanies his remark with a sideward glance. Fendric seems not to hear.