Once Upon a Rheim (Erekose13 Judging)

[Bront]

There is no sign of anyone else present, and with some work, you can douce the fires, though it is clear the carts are near useless as is most of the cargo. It does take 4 servants to help, as the cloth seems very ready to burn.

 

[Someone]

Nodis, male shaper 4. AC 16, HP 25/25 PP 21/25

"What do you think?" says Nodis. "Bandits, orcs, orc bandits, or something else? Whoever it was they mustn´t be too far away."

 

[El Jefe]

OOC: The big problem is that you're not a very good rider

OoC: Something that Oirhandir is painfully aware of.

 

[El Jefe]

"What do you think?" says Nodis. "Bandits, orcs, orc bandits, or something else? Whoever it was they mustn´t be too far away."

Oirhandir thought for a moment. "Any of those", he replied, "or even some of those working together. Whoever they are, the must have left in some direction other than our camp as soon as the slaughter was complete and the wagons lit, else we'd have already found them."

As soon as he saw that the carts were laden with burning cloth, Oirhandir had a sinking feeling and a nagging fear coursing through his veins. By the Searcher, he hoped that these carts had nothing to do with Lord Valdor, or, Phyrah forbid, his beloved Scarlet. He began examining the corpses to see if he found any identifying mark on them, hoping with all his might that if he did, it was not a familiar one.

 

[Corwyn]

Aiken checks to see if he can find any tracks of carts leading away from the camp.
Thus if it was bandits they would have taken some of the loot with them.

 

[Bront]

Oirhandir finds that one of the bodies seems to have stoped from bleeding out miraciously, a human male. He appears to have had all his pouches and any pack removed from his body, and he is in bad shape, but he is breathing shallowly.

Aiken is unable to find any tracks, but then, this is not something he was very well trained in.

 

[Someone]

"Can you heal him, Oirhandir?" asks Nodis.

 

[El Jefe]

"Can you heal him, Oirhandir?" asks Nodis.

"Thank the gods, I can!", remarked Oirhandir as he began to gently rub the man's wound's while chanting words that sounded vaguely draconic. Flesh began knitting back together as the elf worked. Bit by bit, the victim returned from the portico at death's door, and soon the man's eyelids fluttered open. "Steady there", commanded the bard as the man regained conciousness. "You've been through a lot. Can you tell us what happened here? We happened by to find your carts on fire and you lying there in a bad way."[sblock=Crunch]Got lucky with Cure Light Wounds, d8+3=11. That should bring him around no matter how far he was down.[/sblock]

 

[Bront]

The man's eyes flutter open, as he gasps for more air for a moment. Finaly, he settles down, and weakly says "The bandits... Lord Valdor's goods..." before his eyes close again, though this time in the folds of sleep instead of death.

OOC: He's alive, but exhausted from the events.

 

[El Jefe]

"The bandits... Lord Valdor's goods..." before his eyes close again, though this time in the folds of sleep instead of death.

Oirhandir drew in his breath sharply, and stood. He turn his back to the sleeping man, his fists knotting into balls as rage filled his entire body. "NnnnnoooOOOOO!", he cried, his chest heaving for a few moments. This was entirely too close to home...too close to those he knew and loved. Suddenly, he turned on his feet and raced to first one corpse, then another and another, searching for any identifying feature. "Please", he thought, "please let these all just be men in his service."