Lela said:
Wow, ask and recieve, you know. Works.
But I think I'm going to try that again:
I'm meant to fall for that ploy twice?
Well, okay...
time is going to be a bit screwy for the next couple of posts, but assume they all even up eventually
Slightly Later...
Blarth rests on a basic cot, occasionally testing the fresh skin that has grown over his slime-burned legs. The local acolytes had to use a scroll to heal the wound, but it seems to have done the trick. Even so, the young priests of St Cuthbert are demanding he stay in bed. Every time he struggles out of the cot, they convince him to return by assuring him that Thrash is more than adequately equiped to deal with any fighting his companions may discover.
Blarth isn't sure the acolytes understand his desire to assult the mountain once more correctly, but they seem very intense and under a lot of stress with Bellhold's problems, so he doens't make waves. Geoffrey and Halgo are both a little puny, and they'll probably leave him all sorts of good things to kill in the name of Drakkar and St Cuthbert when he goes back tomorrow.
The better part of the afternoon is spent resting in bed, occasionally practicing his dagger throwing or listening to random comments the others make through his earing.
Just after dinner, there's a knock on the door. Blarth is halfway out of bed when the door swings open and a young cleric enters.
"Back under the covers," the acolyte demands. "Now."
Blarth scowls, but obeys.
"That's better," the acolyte says. "THere's a visitor for you, from Hommlet. He comes with news."
A small kobold enters, dressed in the deep blue robes of a Yip Monk. For a moment Blarth's heart leaps, thinking his comrade may have been returned to life, but he quickly notes the subtle differences in appearance - different shades to the scales, a smoother gait, and a different tone to the way this Yip carries his tail.
"You Blarth?" Yip asks respectfuly.
"Yeah, me Blarth," Blarth says. The Yip bows slightly, then rummages around in his oversized pack.
"This arrived at the temple for you, sent through from big temple in Petrev," Yip explains, handing over a small parcel. "They say it come from your master. Man who trained you. They gifts after he died."
Blarth pauses for a moment before taking the package. His master is nearly a year dead, but imperial law has taken this long to process his estate. There is a faint tinge of sadness to the half-orcs features as he opens the package.
Inside is a dorje of gleaming green crystal, as well as a trio of potions and a longsword forged by a master smith.
"Thanks," Blarth says. He tries hard to keep emotion from entering into his voice.
"Is Yip's duty," Yip says. "Have other packages, for Halgo-Torke and Geoffrey-Cromwell. Yip find them here?"
"Up the mountain," Blarth explains. "I'll take you to find them later."
"Yip rest here? Cannoness say Yip serve here now, work for Goeffrey-Cromwell and Blarth."
Blarth points to the spare cot accross the room from his own, barely paying attention to the kobold as he probes the dorje to determine it's powers.
Meanwhile, up the mountain...
"Do we go after them?" Halgo whispers, scanning over the edge of the ramp. "I know we'd killed over half their number, and they're not coming after us."
"Are you ready to go back down there?" Geoffrey asks. He has a short row of javelins at the ready.
"Not particularly, but it doesn't sound like they're still there," Halgo comments. "There was all that noise an hour ago, but now it's quiet."
"Luring us into an ambush."
"Or they've fled. Goblins aren't that brave, and a lot of them are dead."
"You got anything more dangerous than that crossbow in your head at the moment?" Geoffrey asks. Halgo shakes his head, glancing down at the weapon in his hand.
"Then unless you suddenly learn to shoot a little straighter, I figure we give them a little longer before we go chasing. We've got the training and the height advantage. We can wait."
Neither of them talks for a short space of time, their ears focused on any noise coming from the caverns below them. On the bottom of the ramp, the three children are hudled together. Two fo them are crying softly, still shaking from their ordeal. The third is scowling at the two adventureres, his arms protectively placed over his companions.
"I don't think that kid likes us," Halgo comments eventually.
"Why not?" Geoffrey says. "Didn't we just save him?"
"Maybe he liked learning goblin?"
"Maybe he has a splinter in his head, like those horses."
"Possibly," Halgo admits. "Only one way to be sure though, and I don't think we want to take that option."
"You hear anything down there?"
"Not yet."
"You really think they're gone?"
"I'd say so. Goblins are sneaky, but they'd be hard pressed to be this quiet. Especially if they think they've got the advantage. Why?"
Geoffrey stands and draws a dagger from his belt.
"Come hold the kid down. If bulgy-head's can control minds with those things, we can't afford to leave it in there."
"You'll kill him."
"Relax," Geoffrey says cheerfully. "I've had plenty of experience, and those horses were good practice."
