MT: A Sticky Situation of Goblins and Spiders

[fluffyrin42]

"Aye, darts sounds great.  But I'd start counting my copper if I were you... I intend to drink for free today!" Pariwena said with a laugh.  "My name is Pariwena.  What brings you to these parts?"

[Rathrune]

[JessOfAllTrades]

[This is Seth]

Just as Denegoth and his thirsty companion were making amends over ales, a new commotion arose. What an eventful day this Smith had claimed! And what an ale house the young traveler had found himself at. Any young man who had paid his time on the road had found himself around a campfire at some point, drinking in the stories of the adventurers of yesteryear. Tales of giants and goblins, druids and dragons, oddities and owlbears; these were the stories that filled their dreams when their bellies were empty.

 

The road wasn't always an easy place for a young man sharpening his teeth on the ways of the world. Since he left the safety of his master's home, Denny had known cold nights, hungry weeks, and sleepless stretches during his short time as an adventurer, so far. Still, he could not go home. Home... well, what he considered home now. Master Artemis had sent him out on his own with a purpose, and he wasn't allowed back until he fulfilled it. 

 

And so, he continued on. He went from town to town, finding work where he could find it. Swinging his hammer, mending wounds where he found them, trying to make his mark. All the while, he leaned on those stories that he heard along the way. Those tales of mighty heroes and hideous minions, they were his bread and butter now.

 

"How much for a poor, thirsty performer?"

 

Once more, Denegoth swung his head around to catch the end of the question. A performer? Oh, this day could not get better.

 

"A performer? Come, minstrel, tell me a tale, sing me a ballad of battles. Perhaps one that contains the owner of this fine establishment." Denny let his voice rise slightly as he raised his tankard, in kind, towards the Giant Calved dwarf, Sethic. "Or perhaps, friend, I'll buy you a drink and we shall be told a story by the man himself?" With a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face, the young half elf wondered if the day could in fact get better.

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

Dimlull passes into the tavern and finds it much less busy than the outdoor areas. The bar lies again the far wall, beginning at the far left wall and ending at a door leading back to what looks like the kitchens on the right and has only 2 patrons at the dozen or so stools. Both are deep in their cups. The innkeeper leans against the bar and reading a book, though the elderly man has now looked up at the Dwarf's entrance and seems to be waiting to see if he approaches the bar or sits at one of the 10 tables scattered about the room, all but one empty. This one has an elderly woman with her head down, apparently napping. To the right of the kitchen door are stairs leading upward to what can only be assumed to be rooms for rent.

Meanwhile, Tamsin approaches the bar outside and is greeted by the young woman pouring drinks. After inquiring about pricing, the woman smiles, "Today your first pull of each is free due to the festival, money bags over there's treat." she says, motioning to Sethic. "Would you be liking the lighter ale, infused with the honey and crushed seeds of Mount Valor lily, or the darker lager, a beer made with the goblin nose squash and syrup from the towering pines of Gal'duan?"

When Denegoth inquires to Sethic about a tale, the dwarf raises his glass and smiles, but shakes his head. He then shouts back, "A poor story teller am I boy. The red bard here should be able to do a much better job than I, whether the tales be about others or m'self. Go ahead there um..." he pauses and stumbles a bit over the bard's gender then seems to make a choice, "Red, weave us a web of adventure and intrigue."

Sethic then turns to the thief as the woman behind the bar hands him a dark and a light beer, and motions for Venlen to chose one. One the elf takes one, the Dwarf takes the other and takes a sip. He speaks quietly now, not obviously whispering, but making it so no one else would hear the conversation without being next to them and intentionally trying to listen in. "You got some work to do lad. You have a graceful look to yourself, but you gots tah hone yer craft like any other. Don't be too upset with yerself though..." he pauses as he reaches into the belt pouch the elf had tried to steel, then pulls out his fist and empties the contents onto the bar. As the dominoes clatter to the bar top, the Dwarf continues, "You didn't miss out on much.".

(OOC: Continue roleplaying here guys and get to know each other a bit more. I'll get the story going this weekend or early next week.)

[JessOfAllTrades]

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

The serving girl nods, "Goblin's Fate it is." and proceeds to take a long pull from one of the casks.

 

Sethic chuckles as the bard starts squeezing drinks out of him. He then calls out to him/her, waving him/her forward to proceed, "Two ales!? We'll see, we'll see. You've got the first, the second will be dependin' on how your tale goes!"
 
The violet hued lager  is placed down in front of the bard before the serving girl leans back against the building, waiting to hear the tale. The rest of the crowd has hushed as well and is now looking to Tamsin expectantly.

[JessOfAllTrades]

Tamsin takes a moment to taste the ale, letting the hush fall over the crowd. The bard was not exactly in a hurry, and it would have been a shame to wait till a tale was finished to try the ale. After all, it was all the bard could think about the past hour or so while playing. Placing the ale back in the bartop, the bard shifts slightly in the seat to face as many people as possible. With a delicate cough to clear the throat, Tamsin moves off of the stool and removes the lute from over their shoulder. Moving the instrument into a playing position, Tamsin begins plucking a few strings randomly, head tilted to the side as if listening for something carefully. Eventually satisfied, Tamsin looks over the quiet crowd with a smile.

 

“I will definitely have to work then, because a song or two are worth more of such fine ale. And truth be told, I’m not much of a storyteller without music. 'Tis my preferred manner of earning my keep. This may not be the lively tale you all were hoping for, but this ballad tends to be much preferred by those with a hopeless romantic side. And the first to shed a tear owes me round two.â€

 

And with that the bard began to play. The melody starts slowly, the notes and chords softly moving into a haunting, yet beautiful song. 

 

~When the sun’s soft light has turned away

Held by night’s embrace fair

When gray clouds threaten with coming rain

And autumn’s in the air.

There beneath the starless sky

You can hear her wretched song

Raven’s cry and sweeping wind

And the tears of Rhiannon~

 

Those listening may have trouble categorizing Tamsin's voice. Was it just in the low range for a woman, or was the bard young enough to still have the clarity of a boy's tone? Either way Tamsin's voice seems to work well with the lute's accompaniment. The bard obviously seems more comfortable with the music behind the words they sing.

 

~Her shade kneels beneath the tree

Where long ago she died

The dagger that opened up her wrists

Strapped still to her side

Her face is cold, her manner harsh

But if kind to her you speak

She’ll tell you of her dark tale

And the secrets that she keeps

 

“You ask me stranger why I’m here

Bound still to this place

And moved to pity, you ask again

Why tears fall down my face

Well sit awhile beneath my tree

Which by wind and rain is shaken

Guilt and duty are my guards

My chains are vows forsaken.

 

Once I wore the shining gold

Scales of justice sworn

My honor bound to land and Queen

The protection of the morn

I was sent to guard this place

Alone, naive to this world’s lies

And the only place my comfort found

Was in his dark green eyes

 

Love was my temptation

And bereft of sisters’ aid

I heard the darkness’ siren song

And into darkness strayed

My first chain, as you can see

Rotting scraps of gold

A maiden’s vows disobeyed

A soul to darkness sold

 

My second chain is made of blood

Of my parents’ shame

My mother died to keep me safe

From my father’s name

But when I looked into the void

He answered to my call

I know my mother’s spirit wept

When I became his thrall

 

And my father I also failed

When I chose this path

Dark intentions he may have had

But I had to test his wrath

To his service I was sworn

And his will I did betray

Sometimes still I sense him near

Cursing me to this day~

 

Moving away from the seat, Tamsin carefully steps through the people listening, making sure anyone and everyone who wants to listen has a moment nearby. As much as it pains the bard to leave the ale behind. 

 

~The final bond that holds me here

The strongest one by far

A promise broken to my love

My one true guiding star

He died for me in this place

Here beneath my tree

My duty was to carry on

‘till the dark was made to flee

 

I swore to him that final night

After my first fall

That though the dusk was now my home

I would be faithful to my call

I was the moon, the silver light

That brightened midnight’s hour

My love for him remained unchanged

Before us, evil would cower

 

I fell for him, he died for me

And in sorrow I did pine

My promises were turned to dust

To my fate I was resigned

He believed I would fight e’re on

For the land’s need was dire

But calmly I opened up my wrists

And lit our funeral pyre

 

I desired only to stay with him

And rest in his embrace

But in betraying love’s sweet oath

I remain caught in this place

My vows will never be fulfilled

My debt weighs on me still

His spirit rests beyond this place

But mine – mine never will.

 

But such tales are not the things you seek

Kneeling by my grave

On this, the twilight hour fair

Bent low by autumn’s slave

What will it be – what do you seek

What secret of the gloom

But be forewarned, it has a price

Knowledge from the tomb

 

And after we have made our deal

And you leave me here alone

Be wary of the paths you walk

and for old vows atone

You do not wish to follow me

Trapped here when life is gone

Unloved, un-mourned, and unrecalled

Save in the hollow tomes of song~

 

Making way back to the original seat, Tamsin pauses near the stool, the last chord hanging in the air.

 

~And if beyond you meet my love

Tell him the fate of his Rhiannon.~

 

With a few concluding notes, the bard sits back down on the stool, bowing the head ever so slightly. Bowing while standing or anything so foppish wouldn't have fit this particular piece, but Tamsin wanted to make sure the crowd knew the song was finished so the bard would be free to go back to the ale that was hopefully still in place.

 

 

[mitch_dee]

Dimlull surveys the room instinctively noting the exits and the lay of the room.  With a slight nod to the man behind the bar he makes his way through the tables locating the one farthest from the door, adjusting a seat so his back is against the wall providing a clear line of sight for the room.  Reaching into one of his pockets Dim pulled out a long slender pipe and a small pouch.  He sighed as he opened the pouch realizing there was one more item he needed to resupply.

 

‘The quiet n ‘ere will only last till the sun drops and the drunks fig’r out that it’s quicker to get a drink ‘ere’ he thought to himself.

 

Leaving the near empty pouch on the table Dim used the candle on the table to light his pipe.  Taking a long slow drag, he leaned back in the chair, ‘shut up ya ol’ fool, enjoy it….the quiet never lasts’.

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

As Dimlull lights his pipe and leans back in his chair, he hears the crowd outside the window hush and a moment later the melody of Tamsin's voice. The strum of the lute and the words of the tale are somewhat muffled through the walls, but the mood of the music story are strong and clear, giving the room a haunting feel, as if the very shadows are about to begin moving in a slow, melancholy dance.

Outside the crowd is visibly drawn into the story, verse by verse. As the tale continues, clouds cross in front of the sun and the sky begins to drizzle, adding to the mood of the song. The crowd can only guess at if this was coincidence or if Tamsin saw these clouds coming and selected this tune for the accompanying effect they would give, but whatever the reason, no one moves. So connected to the sad story of Rhiannon, they ignore the drops of rain falling in their beer, on their head, and dripping off the ends of their noses. As the song comes to an end, the crowd claps, women (and a few men) weep, and another 2 ales appear by Tamsin's first. Quite a few pat Tamsin on the back and slap coin down (17 copper, 5 silver).

The mood is now a bit more somber between the weather and the sad story of Rhiannon's walless prison, and they begin to use the break in festivities to erect tents to cover the bar area and tables so that the holiday games can continue despite the weather. They don't get far before a cry from the short road leading to the gates breaks the still gloomy silence, "Someone help me! They've taken the farm!"

 

Everyone looks in the direction of the call to find a man nearly falling out of the saddle of a black horse, only staying in his place by leaning forward onto the animal’s neck and clinging to its mane. Two black feathered arrows protrude from his upper back. Most of the crowd is stunned for a moment, though a few rush to help the man off the horse (including Denegoth) and bring him gently to the ground. A few then start to panic shouting things about being under attack and begin to run from the square. Dimlull hears these shouts from within the tavern. Luckily this doesn't cause mass hysteria, and the rest of the people soon gather in a circle around the man as he struggles to stay conscious and relay information about what happened, despite those tending him trying to get him to relax. Through his gasps for breath and shouts of pain due to an old man examining the arrows in his back, he manages a few words. "Goblins.... Black!!! The farm... took it... everyone... captive... dining... hall....", before finally passing out from the pain.

The older gentleman tending to the wounds looks up to Sethic, who has worked his way to the front of the crowd and overheard the man's words, with fear in his eyes. The old man begins speaking quickly, obviously scared and concerned, "This is Gentry from Ulayah Reyn's spider farm 3 hours ride to the south west. I was woderrin' why he hadn't shown up to sell his silks. Now we know. You've got to help! Many of our townsfolk work there, including my daughter. I figured they were just running late!"

Sethic shakes his head while he leans on his crutch, regret showing clearly on his face, "That's not my game anymore lad. I can't be gettin' around like I used to and wouldn't be o' much use. Though I think some of the guests you have in town today might be able to do something." he pauses slightly, eying each of you in turn. "I know an adventurer when I see one..."

[pwallace]

It looks as though our game will have to wait m'lady. There seems to be some sort of excitement going." Davril says, bowing to the red headed girl. Making his way past the towns people, Davril came to stand across from Sethic, on the other side of the collapsed figure.  

"That's not my game anymore lad. I can't be gettin' around like I used to and wouldn't be o' much use. Though I think some of the guests you have in town today might be able to do something.I know an adventurer when I see one..."

 

Figures the dwarf wouldn't be up for this. Going to pass it off to someone else. Still, Goblins are almost as bad a Gnomes. Could be a good time.

"Well All I heard was Spider farm and Goblins. My interest has been peaked. I am called Davril.

[This is Seth]

Denny found himself enthralled, riveted to the edge of his seat, almost yearning for the next line of the story. He let his eyes follow the bard through the crowd, but his mind was elsewhere. Envisioning the pain soaked woman, chained to that tree. The misery in her eyes, the shame on her face, her hands always reaching out to grasp her love, who was forever lost to her. 

 

When he opened his eyes, he found that the mood of the establishment had changed. The air was thicker, the taste of rain was on the wind, and shadows were being tossed every which way by the overtures of the closing lines of the song. Or perhaps by the clouds that had moved in, either way. The young half-elf sat in his thoughts for a short while, basking in the melancholy of the atmosphere around him before raising his drink to the singer of songs, sat beside him at the bar.

 

"Now that was a story! Thank you, kind troubadour, you must allow me to..."

 

But before Denegoth was able to finish his gesture, the day broke. Whether the song had changed the weather itself or if it had always been in the Woodsman's plans, these clouds had brought trouble with them. Do you know those moments, when you can pinpoint exactly when the tables have turned? When the world takes a deep breath and then collapses inwards? This was that moment. And, as it usually is, it was heralded by a cry for help.

 

Denny raced forward, calming the man's weary horse, while others helped him out of his saddle. While run ragged, the creature had no obvious signs of injury, so he turned his attention elsewhere. Kneeling next to the man being coddled by others, the young half-elf readied to help in any minor way he could. He was about to lay his hands on the man, when they locked eyes.

 

This was beyond his ability to help. The gods decree that he try to help whenever possible, but this.. this was a losing battle. Another trained man was trying to stop the bleeding from the wounds, but it had taken all that this rider had to muster just to get him here. There would be no ride home. The man hands grasped at anyone within reach, hands that showed the cracks of age and labor, hands that wanted to hold something, anything, one more time. Denegoth reached out and helped in the only way he knew how, he held the man's hands and listened to his last cry for help. 

 

As he light faded from this poor man's eyes, a fire was lit deep inside Denegoth. The Woodsman teaches to cultivate, to nurture, to help where ever possible. But sometimes to bring forth life, one must first invoke death. Only after a cleansing fire can a new crop take root.

 

Denny rose to his feet, ears perking at the cries from the crowd. He grabbed the bewildered father's shoulder to steady him while trying to look as reassuring as is possible for just a boy not half this man's age. His emerald eyes locked on the shaken man before him. And while the drizzle was still falling and clinging to all those who had come to surround them, it did nothing to dampen the fire burning inside the young adventurer.

 

"He won't have died in vain, sir. I can promise you that. His bravery and strength will be met and matched by those he reached here today."

 

Another voice sank in with his, laying their name out there in the air like the first signature on a sign up sheet. Across the way from Denegoth stood another half-elf, one of his kind, one tied to no race as none would have them. This one had taken the first step, now it was time to fall in line beside them. 

 

"Davril, is it? If you'll have me, we might form a good party to investigate these Goblins. I am Denegoth Ondolithe, and the Woodsman calls me to right this wrong. Though to be honest, I'm none to familiar with the area and its surroundings. We'll need help getting down to the farm."

[JessOfAllTrades]

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

Sethic nods to each of the three adventurers who offer their services to help the town in turn as they step forward, his face solemn but pleased that his judgment was correct. His gaze then moves to Dimlull, Pariwena, and Venlan in turn, those that he had deemed adventurers but has not yet spoken up.

“Anyone else? These three will need some help against a force strong enough to capture an entire farm.” He says, trying to give them a chance to step forward still after not doing so immediately, but also not trying to shame someone by calling them out when they were not willing to step up.

[mitch_dee]

The sudden shouts from outside grabbed Dim’s attention, sighing he made his way out the door, ‘it never lasts’.  As he approached the gathering group he passed a couple talking, the only word he could make out was “goblinâ€. 

 

Gently pushing his way through the crowd he could hear voices speaking up, but could not make out what they were saying over the murmur of the group.  Finally making it to the center of the circle Dim looked down at the body, paying special attention to the arrows protruding from the corpse.  He looked up as Sethic spoke, "That's not my game anymore lad. I can't be gettin' around like I used to and wouldn't be o' much use. Though I think some of the guests you have in town today might be able to do somethingâ€, catching eyes with him, “I know an adventurer when I see one...".

 

‘It never lasts’ he repeated in his head.

 

Dim kept his eyes on Sethic, ‘corse it’s not your game, all that gold weighs ya down too much ol’ man’ he thought as he watched.  The announcement from two half-elves was enough to snap his gaze from Sethic.  A third added her voice, from the limited amount he had heard he assumed it was the bard that sang earlier “Allow me to offer my blade and assistance as well†she said.  ‘Bard’s, always more than they seem’ he thought eyeing her over.

 

Sethic made another call, “Anyone else?  These three will need some help against a force strong enough to capture an entire farm.† Dim stepped forward in response.

 

“Aye, that they willâ€, Dim said looking them each over again, “ ‘specially if’tis goblins.â€, spitting to the ground as if to remove a horrible taste left behind by saying the word goblins.  Looking at the corpse again he nodded, “ ‘ll grab me gearâ€.  ‘If anything  t’will be a chance for revenge’ he thought as he subconsciously ran his finger across the scar that ran from his forehead down across his left eye ending on his cheek.

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

"Well then, I guess that's it." Sethic says, not looking at the other two that he seemed to think might be adventurers, but obviously disappointed at the turn out. Looking to those that stepped forward, he nods. "Good luck to yeh all, I'll try to round up a few stragglers to catch up to yeh if I can. There might be a few around town willing to offer yah their wares or replace weapons you might have lost on the road for you generosity here. And I'll reward yah m'self 5 gold for every goblin ear yeh bring back. Evil, mischievous things they are an' we're better off without em."
 
The villagers and Sethic watch the group expectantly. It doesn't look like anyone else is stepping up to say anything, just waiting for someone to take the lead and be off.
 

[Rathrune]

[JessOfAllTrades]

[This is Seth]

"I know the way. I passed through the farm on my way to town. Are we all ready to go?"

 

Denny looked around at his new found companions, meeting each one's eyes in turn. These were to be the souls he was to depend upon in the upcoming struggles. Being a mercenary had taught him to instantly rely on, but never to trust those that he was thrust into the fire with. That trust was to be earned with blood and sweat. 

 

"There was one that ran off to gather his gear, as you did, minstrel. But I doubt he'll be much longer."  

 

He let his eyes wander over the form of the bard standing before him. The frail carriage of the artist had been bolstered by armor and decorated with weapons. Their fingers would no longer dance on catgut, it would seem, but would play their part on the hilt of a sword almost as tall as the half elf. 

 

Denegoth had never quite removed his gear. Where would he put it? He had only made it so far as to the bar since arriving in town, housing was a problem that he hadn't stumbled across yet. Besides, after the weeks at a time strapped into his armor, it had become more comfortable than you would think. Studded leather, for all it's "thicker" qualities, will provide a bit of give to its wearer after enough time in the elements together. His shield was strapped to his back, whilst his hammer jostled in its holster on his right leg. His hand reflexively thumbed over the mallet portion of the head, feeling each groove in the wrought iron. 

 

"Perhaps we should start walking, it's not as if they won't catch up. We'll want to make a good amount of progress if we want to arrive at the farm before night fall."

 

Turning back to the bard, who would be showing them the path, Denny realized there were still a few names missing from their introductions. 

 

"Davril, Denegoth, Venlen. I don't know the name of the man who ran off, but we would know your name, bard."

[pwallace]

Davril looked around the group warily, 

This should be interesting. `A bard,a ranger, what looks like a rogue and the goods only know what else.I'm sure half a squad of father's rejects would make up a better force than us.owell no use complaining.`

"Alright, first things first. Do we know the set up of the farm? What is the lay of the land around it? Is the area wooded or open field? What strengths are we dealing with as a group. No offense but I will have an easier time trusting my life to you lot if I know a little bit more about you than what your mother's called you when it was time for super. Myself, in not half bad with a bow and can take care of myself with my blade if the need arises."

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

OOC: I just emailed jofalltrades the map of what she knows.

[JessOfAllTrades]

"Davril, Denegoth, Venlen. I don't know the name of the man who ran off, but we would know your name, bard."

 

"Alright, first things first. Do we know the set up of the farm? What is the lay of the land around it? Is the area wooded or open field? What strengths are we dealing with as a group. No offense but I will have an easier time trusting my life to you lot if I know a little bit more about you than what your mother's called you when it was time for super. Myself, in not half bad with a view and can take care of myself with my blade if the need arises."

 

 

Tamsin glanced between the two, one brow raised slightly. Everyone always questions the musician! Having a baby face was such a curse sometimes.

 

“You can call me Tamsin," the bard said with a tilt of the head, eyes moving from Denegoth to Davril, "but it isn’t what my mother called when it was time for supper, sir. She used much more vulgar language usually. Do you question everyone you meet in such a manner?â€

 

A slight smile crossed Tamsin’s face as the bard spoke. Though not personally offended, Tamsin generally didn’t approach people in such a brunt manner. Apparently this one was all about business - Something to keep in mind when talking to him. Tamsin made a mental note not to dance around with words like usual. With that the smile vanished. A slightly darker note entered the bard's tone as Tamsin continued.

 

“I wouldn’t wear a sword if I didn’t know how to use it. Whether I actually use it or not will depend on the situation and all of you. Once I see what you all are actually capable of, we can argue if I'm needed upfront or can support you all instead from behind. As for the farm, the main road takes us along the eastern part of the farm, near the feedstores, the sales floor, and the warehouse.  There is some tree cover along the roads, and we’ll have more with the buildings. Otherwise the land is fairly open. The road curves towards the northwest, which is where the spiders are kept in the natural cavern along with a few other buildings. I can discuss it further as we walk, because we need to start moving if we want to help anyone."

[Gainsdalf the Whey]

As the group makes introduction and talks about how to approach the situation, the town people begin to scatter off. The celebrations are clearly over. Most of them mill about in small groups talking worridly, glancing over at the group now and again. Those who had brought mounts with them have them brought without even asking.

 

A group of 4 of the older farmers walks up to the group, the one in the lead interupting. "Excuse me. It's a generous thing you lot are doing and the four of us would like to know if there's anything you be needing that we can supply you. We see you don't all have mounts, and we'll loan our own that we rode in today to take of that. Is there anything else we can provide, anything at all?"

[mitch_dee]

“….is there anything else we can provide, anything at all?â€

 

“Aye, good spirits and strong mead when I bring d'es pups back alive!†Dim says as he rejoins the group looking them over. 

 

Standing almost a head taller than most dwarfs, Dim had traded his traveling clothes for a suit of full chainmail that fit him as though it were made just for him.  The dull dark grey metal armor matched the helmet slung over his arm and the large rectangular shield he now had strapped to his back.  Dim, like any true dwarf knew the importance of dark dyed metal, the first lesson you learn in the underdark is light, even reflected, will always give you away.  Dim remembered his training instructor always saying, “Let da topsiders wear da shinny armor ta feel proud, ti’ll make ‘em easier to spot if they eva come lookin’ for trouble in our homes!† Dim turned an eye to the sky, ‘least da clouds should help’.

 

Dim looked back at the group reaching up to adjust his short topknot of orange-red hair, two single braids hung of the left side of his face, “we goin’ ta do this?  Like the lass said, we better go if there be anyone left ta save.† He rubbed his hand across his chin, realizing it itched, he had still not grown accustom to the feeling of a fresh shave even if it had been years since he had a beard.

 

“I’ll need ta ride with one of yous….neva’ did learn ta ride one of these beasts.â€

[This is Seth]

Perhaps he was too straight forward, too harsh, too blunt. The look on the face of the bard as their smile fell away reminded him of a lute strung too tightly. But how could Denegoth worry about trivial matters as this with such a task in front of them. A man was dead, at least one man, probably others. And the villains behind such acts still walked freely. 

 

For now. 

 

Dene listened in with the others to the overview of the destination, a basic farm structure, nothing too surprising. What was surprising was the altruism of the villagers. For a man to lend away his horse was quite a big deal in these parts. Not every farm had animals to spare, and those that did would have to pick up the slack elsewhere. It seemed that the young half elf was not the only one a bit riled up with this attack. 

 

"I would accept your generous offer, kind sirs. I'll be sure to care for yours as if it were mine."

 

Before selecting a horse, Denegoth turned to the voice of their last companion, returned. The dwarf had changed his garb to a more serious tone, but not his spirits. Sullen was the armour he wore, but his boisterous voice broke through like the sun fighting through a cloud filled sky. This one would be fun company beside a camp fire. 

 

"Come dwarf, we shall choose a new creature to befriend and ride together." Turning to the rest of the group, "And as for what I am capable of, you'll find my hands whilst able to attend to your ailments are also fit to fight. There is a time and a place for both."