Death in the Mountains - IC

Reginald listens carefully, only moving to nod as Norbert recalled the loss of his guards. "I'm sorry to hear that." He had lost traveling companions prior to reuniting with Valgard. It could be hard. He didn't know how close Norbert had been with the two who had fell, but his emotions were obvious enough. But, emotions aside, there were still many questions to be answered.

"If I may be frank, what was your business at the Monastery Norbert? Since you were attacked on your return journey, did you not see any sign of the ratfolk when you first went up the mountain,
or did you get there by another route?"

The barkeep enters the common room with another pot of steaming coffee which he places by the fire, he then peers at the porridge and gives it a stir but pauses in his work when Slythe asks his question “I’ve been here some 14 years or so and never heard of any Skaven in these parts. They live underground don’t they?”

Norbert looks gratefully at Serestre as she offers her support and he seems to collect himself, colour returning to his cheeks. He picks up a mug of coffee from the table holding it almost protectively while Valgard says his piece “I’m a merchant not a sell-sword” he replies “I’d gladly pay you for their ears if I could but I’ve lost almost everything up on the trail. It will take me a while to get back on my feet.”

After finishing stirring the porridge the barkeep stands beside the fire, his elbow resting on the mantle. “I bet you could get some coin in Parravon for their ears, they pay gold for goblin ears so I don’t see why not Skaven.” he adds helpfully to the conversation.

Taking sips from the mug Norbert looks over to Reginald “I travel this route perhaps three times a year, I trade out of Parravon so head from there to Grunere and then up into the mountains. The monks are fine brewers and their ale sells well in Parravon, so I was bringing some kegs back on my mules.” He pauses looks away and sighs “all lost…” you hear him say quietly to himself before looking back to Reg “I didn’t see any trouble on my up there, its always been a safe trip for me.”

Valgard gives a nod, sliding his knife back into its sheath. "Right, that makes one of us. Like Reggie said, I'm not lettin any Skaven blunder about next to a town. We can handle em." He finishes his drink, then takes his cup and Reginald's to the new pot, pouring them another with a nod to the barkeep.

Daemaer had been half listening, half focusing on the food in front of him.
/
Between mouthfuls he spoke up, "Fine brewers? Ears for gold? Well things just got a little more interesting!"

He takes a final bite, washes it down with the coffee, wipes his arm across his mouth, and stands up.

"Right! Lets go!"

He pauses and looks around.

"Right! Where is my bow?!"

He scratches his nose, and heads up to the room, coming back down a moment later with his other gear and bow.

"Right! Lets go!"

Slythe picks up his Celestite sword and hefts the strange weapon over his shoulder.
"If the ratsss is here too they willssss spread plague and corruption throughout your sssssanctuaries."

He couldnt care less about the good or the requests, he just wanted to get through these mountains or do something - anything to warm his chilled bones.

Fighting the plague monks would bring back fond memories of the southlands.

Setting off around midmorning you head up the mountain path which winds gently upwards between two peaks and beyond. The weather is pleasant, with few clouds in the sky and despite the gradually increasing altitude the sun is warming on your backs. While the gradient is relatively gentle the ascent is tiring and so you’ll break around midday which is the first sighting you get of what is to come. While they are just black pin pricks in the sky the tell-tale sign of circling birds of prey a few hours ahead show evidence of the trouble that caused Norbert the merchant to burst into the tavern last night.

It is around mid-afternoon when you come over a rise and see a small group of vultures gathered around a body, they peck and pull at the corpse that lays just off the path. Some two hundred metres beyond and set off the trail is a low laying stone structure, you can spy more vultures around the building and a small window on the side that faces you but the entrance is hidden from view. Apart from the vultures all is quiet.

Reginald seemed chipper enough as they set out. Dwarfs were made of sturdy stuff and they were at home in the mountains; such was the case that he and Valgard were clearly feeling the gentle ascent less than the other members of the group. When he spotted the vultures he took a moment to pull out his crossbow and proceeded at a more cautious pace. He was a pretty lousy shot, but it was better to at least attempt to kill something at distance before closing with it.

When he eventually spots the corpse he stops and takes his time looking at the body and the surroundings for anything out of place. "Anyone see any movement?"

+++
Awareness 31; rolled natural 100 - http://orokos.com/roll/568148

Daemaer strolled leisurely beside the others, his long legs easily keeping face with the steady pace of the dwarves.

He wasnt particular paying attention to what was going on ahead, enjoying the stroll in the mountains after a hearty breakfast.

He pauses as the Reginald does, and takes a look around.

+++

Awareness http://orokos.com/roll/568256 - 25 vs 31 (2dos)

Valgard walked next to his brother quietly. He felt comfortable walking through the mountainside again, and moved with purpose up the trail. When he saw the vultures, he stopped, putting both hands on his axe, he looked about, trying to catch sight of anything that would help him find the ratmen. "Not but the vultures. Maybe there's something more by the way-house." Valgard made his way past the body and down to the way-station, moving slowly and keeping his eyes open for any movement.

Slythe kept his ears and eyes open. He had learned quite a few survival skills since his time away from the southlands, but the mountains were a new environment to him.
He was completely and utterly out of his depth, not to mention the cold....

"I sssssee no sssssigns of ratkin. Are we ssssure thissss dying man wassssnt imagining thingssss?" he hisses, eager to hear the dwarves talk of something besides ale and ugly mates.

Daemaer put his hand up.

"Those closer vultures seem a little agitated...best be wary..."

He gestured to those near the body.

Although his bow was over his back, he didnt reach to ready it, instead keeping his hands by his side and free.

The first group of vultures move away from the body within view as you approach hissing and squawking in annoyance at their meal being interrupted. The affect a kind of sideways hop with the occasional flap of the two metre wingspan to give themselves some speed. As they move away the half-eaten body comes into full view; its clothes and armour are ripped and bloodied and a sword and shield lay nearby. Not wanting to pause for a more prolonged look while the way-station remains unexplored you head towards the building. As you draw closer the second group of vultures become agitated and move away from the building leaving the way clear. The structure is made of the same rock it stands on and is perhaps five metres squared, there is an arrowslit window on each face and moving around the building reveals a doorway with human corpse on its step. The second body is in a bloodied and mutilated state from the vulture’s ministrations. Taking a quick peep into the building via the door or window shows that it is empty.

Reginald put away his crossbow when nothing immediately lept out to attack the party.

He stayed to inspect the first body longer than the others, making sure he didn't miss anything. He wanted to be sure the wounds were consistent with skaven attacks. "Be wary of traps. I don't know how far ahead the ratkin would have planned, but I put nothin' past them."

Slythe eyed the mutilated bodies with a passing interest.

"Reginaldssssis right. Ratkinss may leave trapsis if they expectsss a search party. Be on your guard."

His bow was slung across his back, but the celestite club was in his hand and within easy reach.

"Hmmm," murmured Reginald as he ran a calloused hand through his beard. He had spent a few extra moments at the first body as the rest of the party moved on. There was one peculiarity about the body that he didn't quite expect. Chances were it meant nothing; he would have to give the second body an inspection as well.

He made his way over to the second. If Norbert was telling it true, this would have been the first guard to die. A woman, if he recalled correctly.

"That one over there died from battle wounds. The only bites on it are from the vultures, as far as I can tell."

Mightn't mean anything at all.

He began inspecting the second body.

++Double Post++

Upon inspection of the second, nearly decapitated body, Reginald has difficulty finding any blade marks. "Odd. This one here doesn't have any actual blade marks - but if what Norbert said was accurate, he would have died from the first cut to the throat. Seems to fit with his head being almost off. There's something... eh, I don't know."

Reginald felt as though there was more to be learned from the almost decapitation, but his apothecarial knowledge was limited. Perhaps Serestre would be able to get more insight if she could stand to inspect such a scene.

The Runesmith then picked himself up and began searching around for signs of a trail. Anything that could tell them where these skaven were would be helpful. After some time, he believed he was onto it.

"Even with the vultures makin' it hard for me, I got tracks. At the very least five figures who fit the skaven description with small, clawed feet. Don't know which way they came in on account of the rockiness here, but they definitely took off back up toward the monastery. Here." He walked over to the side of the hill and pointed out the tracks running parallel to it.

"I'd expect more than the five I was able to count. At least one mule ran up that way too. Don't know about the others. Maybe off the side of the cliff."

Daemaer kept an eye out while the others searched and investigated the area. He wasnt much good with bodies. That was why he used magic.

hmm magic...

He took a moment and closed his eyes casting his mind to the winds and searching for anything magical in nature.

Slythe couldn't find any signs of Skaven. So instead of inspecting the bodies he paces from one side of the group to the other, pausing at each end to sniff the air with his forked tongue before moving back the other way.

Daemaer spoke up.

"There are no signs of magic. Looks like a quick dirty fight. Typical rats."

"Anything in the way station?" Reginald called back to Daemaer; he was still out on the trail, trying to see any signs of the other mules.

Serestre had enjoyed the trek through the mountains. She knew of the area somewhat, but she hadn't had much time to explore it and get to know the real intricacies of the land surrounding the monastery. However, knowing they were heading towards death and decay made her nerves stand up. 

+++++

She covered her mouth as soon as the scene game into view, giving a small prayer to Shallya for the souls of these unfortunate beings. She does her best to hold back a bit of her breakfast, but makes her way over to the body that Reginald had mentioned, doing her best to try and discern what he was trying to uncover about it...

Kneeling by the body at the doorway Serestre gently examines it before standing, cleaning her hands with a little water from her canteen. “Perhaps the tears from the vultures mask the signs of combat wounds, as I can’t find any evidence.”

As you enter the way-stations interior the first thing that will draw your sight is the dead mule in one corner. Laying on its side a large pool of blood that surrounds it caused by the jagged wounds at its hind quarters where its back legs used to be. The room itself is spartan with its only feature a fireplace and flue. There are obvious small clawed tracks on the bloodied floor around the mule and the legs are nowhere in sight.

"Well, that solves the mystery of the missing mule," said Reginald as he entered into the way station. The trail had gotten as hot as it was going to get for the dwarf and the group had a decision to make.

"We have another day's worth of travel before we make it to the next way station. I don't particularly mind traveling in the dark, but it might not be the best idea given the state of affairs. The way I see it is we can clear out this place and settle in here - might even be able to make use of some of the upper quarters of that mule for dinner. Or we can push on and camp on the trail. Or we can push straight through to the next way station, which is probably the stupidest plan of action. In fact, forget I said that last bit."

He awaits any input from the party.

Valgard walked the path to the way-station slowly, looking intently for any other signs of conflict. He listened to what Reggie was saying as he walked up to him. "He didn't seem capable of lying, but he did put on a show. Maybe he wanted all the coin ta himself? Murder seems a bit much, but hard times an all." He stepped over the body and shouldered the door, his axe in guard in case anything was living on the other side.

Seeing nothing but a dead mule, he lowered his blade. "No brother. The rats've been on that mule, all plague and boils on it. We ought ta burn the bodies, unless you wanna dig em a grave. Then we should head out. I don't wanna stay here longer than we need to. Gives me the creeps." He says, stepping over the bloody floorboards to check the rest of the way-station.

Daemaer stuck his head in the waystation, scrunching his nose up.

"Hmmm i agree. To both points. Definitely burning time. And then move away from here."

He pauses.

"Who knows, if we are lucky we may draw some of them back to the flames and we can deal with them."

He leaves the waystation and moves to drag one of the bodies towards it.

"Burning time? What is the rush? It seems like an unnecessary risk to have to camp on an unprotected trail. Even if we do spring a successful ambush, we don't even know how many we are up against."

Reginald thinks for a moment. "Unless... you mean it is literally burning time?" He seems genuinely confused.

Valgard laughs at his brother. "It is time, to burn the bodies. Burning time. You wanna save their gear or let it go with them? I've no use for it, though it could catch us some coin if we can lug it to Parravon. Ta be truthful, I'm na sure if any of our options are safe. An I don't see any need ta stunt our travels. Unless ya wanna ambush em?" He says, picking up the mule and moving it out of the way-station. He grabs a handful of dirt off the ground and scrubs the mule blood off with it, wiping the remainder on his trousers.

"'Right," he replies with a nod, thankful that his brother undid his confusion. He smiled when Valgard mentioned gear. No gear is useless gear as long as I am around. There's always a need for coin. With enough time I could get that ruined chain proper again -
get us even more coin."

He begins helping his brother move the mule. Even with its hind legs mostly off, it was a heavy bastard. When it is finally finished, he mimics Valgard's hand cleaning method. Only then does he wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"If we do it this way, we're going to need a pyre. We use the daylight to gather wood and build it just down-trail so it doesn't mess with our eyes in the night. We build another in the hearth in the way station, just in case. Then we sit tight. If they come, we'll be ready. If they don't we head out at first light - nothing lost."

Daemaer laughs.

"Yes time for burning! Sorry, sometimes the way i speak confuses people. The common my village spoke was a little...", he wiggles his hands slightly, "...different? haha"

He looks around.

"Im not really much of an outdoorsy person but i will help gather some wood and what not. I guess we shouldnt stray too far though? "

Slythe stood watching the conversation for the better part of 5 minutes and his irritation was at a high crescendo.

"If the mansssis was lying then why did he injure himself? Itssseemss unnecesssary."

He stands in the doorway, eager to go and eradicate the ratmen he suspected were still nearby.

"Burn the horse if you mussssst. But your talk issss already burning time. We sssshould hunt them down while they dont sssussspect retaliationssss."

Reginald laughed.

“Well then have at it, killer. I’m sure you can catch and kill them all on your lonesome. I’ll be here waiting. As bait. The old ‘bait n wait.’”

He paused as he thought over his word choice and then shrugged.

“If you do stay, could you help us gather wood?”

Sent from Topic'it App

You spend a few hours in the sunny afternoon collecting firewood in and around the mountain trail with the ever-ominous presence of the vultures circling overhead. As you build the pyre the remaining scavenging birds perched on nearby rocks glare at you as though they get the sense that their free meal has come to an end. Serestre says a few words to Morr the God of Death, Shallya’s father to ask for the deads safe passage before the fire is set and the remaining scavengers screech loudly and take to the skies. As the fire takes thick smoke billows into the sky, surely to be seen from miles around on such a clear and fine day.

With that grim task now behind you all there is to do is wait to spring your trap and so you retreat to the way-stations safety. The arrow slit windows give you a good view up and down the trail and the door is sturdy with a thick wooden bar to drop across the doorway to secure it against intruders. You idle away your time into the early evening and as the sun starts to set so the pyre starts to fade.

With food prepared and eaten you settle in for the night with a watch keeping an eye up and down the trail, the night though is quiet, almost still with no sign of wildlife or Skaven and when the sun rises for the last watch it looks like it will be another pleasant sunny day. Setting off Slythe sets a slow pace which much grumbling about the cold, which it is not for the rest of you, however the pace becomes harder as the day wears on with the rising sun and exertion warming his cold blood. You'll come across the second way-station in the late afternoon with still a good four hours or so of daylight remaining. You approach cautiously, weapons ready but it is not needed as the building is empty.

"Praise be to Shallya for an uneventful night," Serestre says as the sun blazes into the sky for another seemingly beautiful day. 

She gathers herself and prepares her travel belongings for the coming day. With a bit of time remaining before they set off for the next waystation, Serestre jots down a few notes on her parchment of what has transpired in the few days since becoming an adventurer. She finishes quickly and wraps it into the parchment case. 

+++++

The cleric takes in the sights around her, having not been this far from her home in her lifetime. It is quite beautiful, albeit cold like the lizardman continues to grumble about. 

As they reach the second point of their journey, she sighs with relief. 

"And once again, we are blessed to have arrived safely. And at a seemingly innocuous place." 

"Yes. 'Seemingly' is the opportune word. I haven't dealt too much with Skaven personally, but I wager if they're capable of setting a trap once, they are capable of setting it twice.
We shouldn't become lax with our defenses."

He takes off his pack and sets it against the way station wall. With crossbow in hand, he did a quick walk around to make sure nothing unpleasant was about.

Daemaer slept well and woke with the others, slightly saddened nothing had happened in the night.

The disappointment grew as the day went on.

He was well aware of the hells of war and fighting, but still a little action wouldn't hurt....

*****

As they arrived at next way station he once again was on guard as the dwarfs approached the building

Valgard woke with a grumble, stood from the slouch he'd taken against the way-station wall, and picked up his axe. In the younger days he would've been the one to wake his brother, though now it seems the dwarf rises much earlier than Valgard. He gave Reginald a nod when he was ready to move.

With a stifled laugh, Valgard commented on Serestre's note writing "Take notes child, this is how the professionals do their business." He replies before setting off on the trail.

+++

As they arrived to the second way-station, Valgard again raised his axe to prepare for an assault. He booted the door in with his axe in guard, but found nothing. He called back to his brother "This one's safe, no' even any bodies. I still say we keep an eye out. Any trails nearby?" He says, walking back outside and scanning the trees.

Slythe grumbled all day about the cold, keeping his stinky skins tight on his shoulders. As the day grew longer and warmed up, he did not. He was a icy cold as ever.

His mission was not to hunt Skaven in the hills, it was to find those who had ambushed his men. He only agreed to do this because it was along the way. He did not like the idea of slowing down to help these humans, but anywhere skaven were was a place that needed cleansing. The ratkin were some of his race's oldest living enemies.

***

As they approach the second way station, he keeps his ancestral weapon at the ready. He had a bow but found more profitable results in the sheer smashing of enemies.

He grunts a negative on finding any trails, not wishing to waste words and give positions away to any potential traps.

"Hmm, human and mule tracks but no sign of Skaven. Must have wandered off the trail. Most likely taken to the mountainside to avoid detection."

He was starting to think that maybe the group should push on. The more impulsive side of him figured there was no use in waiting around for another day to pass with skaven on the loose. Then again, the more rational side knew that playing it safe would ensure they made it to their destination alive.

Daemaer listened as the Dwarf spoke.

"Maybe we just press on? No point traipsing around the mountains trying to find rats. Lets just get to the monastery and hopeful find some entertainment there! "

"Might be right - but the skaven aren't going to just go away. This is a well traveled road and they set an ambush. Weren't an accident, I'm thinking. Might not like what we find at the Monastery. Best prepare yourself for the worst, lass." The last bit was meant for Serestre, of course. Reginald had a feeling she didn't completely understand the gravity of their situation.

Serestre sighed and then made one of the many holy signs to her goddess, Shallya. 

"I pray you are wrong, Reginald. I pray for the will to be strong if something sinister has happened at the Monastery."

She surveyed the scene, remembering all she had encountered thus far.

"I sssssee know ssssigns of the ratssss." he hisses in agreement with the rest.

When Reginald suggests proceeding, Slythe was all for it. "Yessss. Ssssstopping at every broken branch and claw-marked tree will only ssssslow ussss down more. The filithssss'no where near here."

Valgard grumbled about the damn sneaky rats as he looked about at the trees. "Ach, there's no' a thing there. I'm no' tired yet, we might as well push on if we're all in agreement. No idea where we'll find those rats now." He said with a shake of his head.

Reginald nodded, took a sip of water from his waterskin, and slung his crossbow. With hammer in hand, he made ready to move out.

Daemaer nodded.

"If there are rats at the monastery, then kicking the nest should help shake them from the area. One party isnt enough to cover these hills and find every rat. Onward!"

The next day and a half pass without incident, the final way-station like the second has evidence that the merchant and his mules were likely the last inhabitants but there is no sign that the Skaven had been there. The days remain sunny, the sky clear except for the odd white fluffy cloud, the mountain air is fresh and invigorating.

A few hours out from the final refuge the trail starts to level out as you begin to draw close to the area where you’ll find the monastery when Reginald abruptly calls a halt as he crouches and closely examines the ground. There had been no sign of the Skaven since the first way-station and tracking had been tricky due to rock and the hard dirt baked under the summer sun, but here as bright as day was a few skaven foot prints, as though one of the rats had been careless and had briefly stepped off rocky ground. Gesturing you forward Reginald points at the tracks “The Skaven have been through here and by the looks of it are still headed towards the monastery.” He considers the tracks briefly again “can’t be more than a day old I’d guess. Lets press on eh? The valley where this monastery is can’t be far from what the mountains are tellin’ me.”

Reginalds testament that the monastery is not far proves true as only a few hours later you view the basin it lies within from a vantage point Slythe found. The monastery lies in a small fertile area between the peaks roughly a few miles across. It is lightly wooded, with cleared fields around the monastery complex with a small lay settlement that has grownup around it. Close by runs the Vaswaser, the tributary of the Upper Grunere, which meets the mountain trail on occasion on the journey up. As it flows through the comparatively flat basin, the water is less violent than it is further downstream, but it is still a stream rather than a river and is too small for boats. Approaching from the west you move through the wood, insects buzz and flitter about and you see a squirrel run around and up a tree as you startle it, all looks normal and well. As you exit the wood you get a closer look at the settlement. The monastery complex itself is walled and built from limestone, with a stout wooden roof and heavily shuttered windows. You can see a large T-shaped main building with a circular thatched chapel building at the eastern end. Outside of the wall lie a scattering of buildings and small farms which look more like vegetable gardens than actual large agricultural clearings. Animals such as pigs, goats and chickens forage about what appears to be a spartan and primitive place. You see people at work, tending the animals or their gardens and a couple of children at play. The gates to the monastery stand open and a young monk dressed in brown robes stands ‘guard’.

Spoiler:

"Well, we know two things: one, the skaven are clearly about and two, they haven't attacked yet. It's that second part that worries me more. They had a head start on us - a rather lengthy one. And from the sound of it, they also have the numbers. So, what in Grugni's holy Beard are they waiting for?"

He tried to work it out in his head as he took a knee and rested on the hilt of his warhammer.

Just what are you wee little shites up to?

Reginald plays at his beard, then holds his finger up as though something suddenly came to him.

"Traveling at night! The little bastards are traveling at night - most likely underground too. That's why we didn't see many more tracks until they were forced, or chose, to come out. Wait a minute. Wait. With the tracks we saw they can't have more than 10. At least not the group that attacked Norbert. If they're only traveling at night, then we may have overtaken them."

His thoughts come out in somewhat of a jumble, and some of the information was contrary to what he had previously said. Either way, he spoke with much more confidence now. It was clear that this was what he believed true.

"Probably worth going down and letting the folk know what they may or may not be in for."