(055) Wildwood/The Ivory Wold

[mgtremaine]

Wen would look up and break a large smile and then speak in Elven.

Hail and greetings to you friends of the forest, watchers of the WestWold, children of the stars. It is I Leuanwen who journeyed out of the Ivory Wold 72 Moons ago, my companion is Gustave Tonneau a warrior of renown, and as you see style. He would catch his breath and go on a little more cautiously.

Please I’ve come to ask for aid and put myself upon your mercy so that you may hear the news I have to bring and judge the need of my telling. By now you must know that Ket has fallen to the goblin forces. This is a matter of great concern to the group I travel with and we seek shelter and advice on what comes next. But for you to understand the gravity of my request I need to tell you the whole story as far as I know it. If you feel the need to hear it here and now, I will proceed, or perhaps you would rather talk at length some place more secure. Ether is fine by I beg you to consider bring my follows into the wonders of the Ivory Wold where they will feel protected.

[waysoftheearth]

Southchase (The Main Company)

Another hungry day slowly begins to play itself out. The sun is bright, though a patchy cloud cover rolls slowly east to west.

Dorgan unties the sack captured from the nuns' reliquary and takes a peek inside, and is heartened by the glamour of mixed silver and gold coins within.

With nothing to eat, and half the company incapacitated in one way or another there seems little to do but get some rest. Oalf, Dorgan, and Dieter manage to staunchly establish something of a perimeter and a watch, but in all honesty they are fatigued beyond much utility. As is everyone here.

d6

And that is why they hardly noticed a thing all morning...

Mid-morning comes and goes without particular incident, and just as those who are not already asleep are battling to keep their eyes open, a dozen cloaked Elves with arrows drawn ready on bow strings spring out of the long grasses in semi-circle at about 30 yards around the impromptu camp site.

"Do not even think of reaching for those weapons!" cries a stern voiced Elf among them as they gracefully close in with arrows held absolutely steady. Tthose who are yet semi-wakeful hear the tension on the dozen Elvish bowstrings creeeaaak as they draw tighter.

What is your reaction?

[waysoftheearth]

Somewhere within Wildwood : Wen and Gustave

| A perfectly good time for a reaction check! I will adjust their reaction by +1 because Wen is a Lawful Elf, and +1 because he offers something useful to them--namely some potentially uptodate intelligence...

And now the rolling part...

2d6+2=12!! (double 5s add 2) An enthusiast response |



"Leuanwen? That is you!" says another excited voice (in Elvish of course), and another, then another burst out of the woods, seemingly from all around, hurrying by the stern captain (who delays a moment, mainting his stern face, then shrugs and joins the others with a laugh).

And suddenly the weary pair are surround by laughing and babbling Elves who hustle them off their awkward, stoney path and--laughing and singing and offering wineskins--onto a narrow trail that curls about the forested hillock via a much easier way.

"You really do choose the most difficult route, Leuanwen," scalds one with a laugh,
"You haven't got any taller," titters a gorgeous maid among them,
"Nearly there!" cries one another, skipping and dancing aournd them as the Elves break out into a song on the move...

O! Now! Where are you going?
Your packs need a-filling,
Your legs need a-resting,
The Wold is a-sing-ing!
Tra-la-la-la-leeee,

O! Now! What are you doing?
Your foes are a-flying,
Your wineskins a-drying,
The Wold is a-dancing!
Tril-il-il-a-laaa,

And so on and so forth and so be, until both their (hunger and fatigue affected) heads are spinning with such laughter and nonsense!


And this is how they at last came to the Elvish watchtower known as Haurelee (or, translated into Illiberal for your benefit: Southwatch). In the final quarter mile, most of the dozen or so Elves who had accompanied them on their merry little climb wave goodbye and return to their own duties, leaving our weary pair with an escort of just two Elves; Erendir (the warder who originally challenged them) and Iólwen--a (relatively) serious elf-maid with plaited autumn hair.

"Come Leuanwen," says Erendir, "You and your man look famished, let us impose upon the Warden's hospitality! I'm sure she will be eager to learn your tidings--but we are not so uncivilised here that we would have you expiring of hunger or thirst!"

And the two Elves lead Wen and Gustave into the tiny holding of Southwatch.

It is positioned ideally at the top of a rocky hillock, and well shielded by a dense thicket of trees and undergrowth. These are supplemented with a further rampart of great mossy logs and brambles so that the whole of it is extremely difficult to approach, except by the single-file, winding trail the Elves use. And even this is exposed to whomever holds the higher ground above it.

The "watchtower" itself is in fact a great, sprawling tree that supports a number of suspended platforms; these--and others like them in nearby trees--being interconnected by rope bridges and gantries. Wen is accustomed to this, but Gustave is mildly surprised to see that several of the largest trees seem to accommodate halls and dwellings within their living trucks!

They spy a number of Elves posted high up in the canopy, overlooking the surrounds of the Ivory Wold, and these wave or nod, and look on with interest at the two visitors, but in truth there are rather fewer Elves about than they might have hoped. Perhaps they are all out and about their business in the wood?

[sully]

Southchase (The Main Company)

Mid-morning comes and goes without particular incident, and just as those who are not already asleep are battling to keep their eyes open, a dozen cloaked Elves with arrows drawn ready on bow strings spring out of the long grasses in semi-circle at about 30 yards around the impromptu camp site.

"Do not even think of reaching for those weapons!" cries a stern voiced Elf among them as they gracefully close in with arrows held absolutely steady. Tthose who are yet semi-wakeful hear the tension on the dozen Elvish bowstrings creeeaaak as they draw tighter.

Dorgan sighs, loudly and long. He looks around to see how many Elves there are. He makes no other moves.

"Dieter, ya better talk for us. They prob'ly heard a' the Ogreslayer afore now. Or else the Miss, maybe, if'n she's feeling well."

[mushgnome]

"Mellon! Friend!" Highbough continues in Elvish, "We are refugees from Ket, fleeing the goblin-scum!"

To his companions he would whisper, "Don't even think of reaching for your weapons." (He assumes they would not have understood the instructions from the Elves.)

[coffee]

"Why do people always say that?" Dieter says, with a slight grin but no other movement. "When I need my weapon, I don't think about drawing it. It just happens, like breathing.

"But we're here on a peaceful errand, so I wouldn't have thought of it anyway. Far better to be slain by an Elf for a perceived offense than by a Snork for a real one."

And he waits to see what effect his words have on the Elves.

[doctorx]

Exhausted and sorely wounded as she is, Josiane rises slowly and carefully to her feet, her hands in clear view and well-clear of her sword. She puts the best smile she can muster on her wan and grimy face and addresses the approaching Elvish warband.

"Hail and well-met, Children of the Wood! I am Josiane - called the Vagabond Knight, a servant of Saint Tamarae of the Well. My companions and I crave assistance. We apologise for our imposition in coming here, but truly we had no other choice. It is as my friend says; we are refugees from the town of Ket, which has fallen to goblin forces. We were sorely beset on its outskirts by warg riders. While we drove them off, one of our number was slain, others of us bear grievous wounds and others yet are ill. Two of our number, an Elf and a Man, we had already despatched to seek out your assistance and petition for asylum. As you can see, our need is dire. I humbly ask your aid."

[Olroda]

What is your reaction?

Zzzz...

[ehiker133]

Desmond, startled by the sudden presence of... elves, it sounds like... had no preparations to pull the heavy woolen hood over their head. In truth, he's grown wary of using it (as has Mondes) and finds he pulls it up less and less when they're not in town.

But especially now, not wanting to make any sudden movements, for he can almost FEEL the razor-sharp arrows pointed at his head... er, heads.

Very slowly, he raises his hands, to show he is a) real and b) unarmed.

After hearing Dorgan and Dieter and Josiane ply their tongues in attempts to disarm the situation, not missing (but not understanding) the terse elven reply by Highbough, as well, Desmond adds, "Just don't kill us..." to which Mondes adds, "Oim wif 'em. Dan't kill us."

[Eris]

"Peace unto you." Olaf says showing empty hands adding with a weary sigh, "None of us here mean you any harm, not that we're in position to do any even if we wanted to."