Immersive Ink

Highbough sticks with the group; safety in numbers...

waysoftheearth wrote:After a brief council of the present circumstances, the company agree -- somewhat reluctantly -- to turn about and return to the ruin. The grim reality of protracting their hungry existence beings to sink in as they march...

Olaf circles about in a wider route in search of water and game, while Highbough lingers behind to do some investigating of his own...

Olaf moves as quietly and carefully as he can as he circles wide to come up on the ruins from behind. He doesn't know what he might find on his return, but he wants to surprise it, not be surprised himself. Maybe a chicken or two or a sheep escaped from the slaughter outside Ket and will fall into his hands on the trip back. Even more important than food, however, is some clean fresh water, so he'll be keeping a watchful eye out for streams and natural springs.

OOC: IIRC, this is a rolling plain with many dips and potholes in the terrain. I don't recall us passing any streams or pools, but then we weren't really looking for them when we first came out this way.

Very well.

Olaf sets an arrow upon his bow string and lopes off on a south-westerly course, heading almost directly toward the ominous mountains that crowd the horizon in that direction, so that he can circle around to the west of the ruin.

Meanwhile the remainder of the company turn south and grimly trudge back the way they have just come; a weary 3 mile hike back to a ruin without a larder. Hunger is an everpresent gnaw in everyone's belly. Especially the blind halflings who, in fair times, would eat six times a day.

Wen would trudge back in silence after having exhausted himself of ideas. Once back to the ruins he would sit upon a rock and play his pipes trying to lift the spirits a bit while the courses of action are weighed, the items are inspected, and a defensible camp is found.

As soon as camp is established Josiane will make a full inspection of all the artefacts recovered over the course of their last adventure.

Dorgan is happy to collect firewood, as he normally does. He'll be on the lookout for anything edible, as he normally does.

He's willing to take first or last watch, as need be.

...okay, but the return trip to the ruin just got interesting...

Progress for the main company is frustratingly slow with the blind hobbits needing continual guidance across the undulating heath, tripping and stumbling their way thru the sturdy tufts and shrubs, and tough, thick grass almost to waist high (for the halflings). Dorgan too, is struggling with his blistered feet...

| Now an encounter has occurred. Ref rolls for number encountered, and determines that the monsters are not surprised, but rolls to determine whether the PCs are surprised: d6=4 so they are not. Now roll to determine encounter distance: 2d6=3 so it's 30 yards! |

...as weary column battle their way toward the crest of a gentle, heath-thatch of a rise -- expecting to then find themselves about half a mile from the ruin -- they hear rough voices, then immediately thereafter stop in their tracks as a troop of warg riders hove into view, reigning in atop the rise 30 yards in front on them with their vicious mounts snarling and spitting.

You see four of them on the ridge right away; ugly, fang-faced, grey-green skinned goblin fighters (not the civilised sort you'd see about the streets of Ket) mounted on brute-looking hyena/wolves the size of mules. By the sound of it there are more of them beyond the crest too.

"Looky here," snarls the first goblin, "We got more man-things makin' a break fer it!" The giant wargs growl and bare their awfully salivating fangs...

| The game shifts seamlessly into combat turns (of one minute duration); what do the weary PCs want to do? |

"Ah..." sighs Gustave in apparent relief at something to do apart from trudge through mud and listen to the growl of his belly.

He eyes the lead goblin as he drops his pack and his blade sings from its sheath, "I don't have a recipe for goblin...but perhaps we can improvise."

Josiane eyes the approaching enemy with a tired frown.

"We are but simple travellers in search of rest," she says in a clear if weary voice; "We do not seek battle, and you will not if you are wise".

The sword of Jehan slides from its sheath.

"Withdraw."

ooc: I almost feel sorry for these guys... umm MR Goblin you do know that our friend Ulric took all fire spell this morning right?

Wen would look up startled from his trudging daze, shocked to find the goblins their. He would step out of the way and cast his Mellifluent Concord on the Goblins leading... "A tightly packed group would easily destroy us, you should all draw closer together."

Other then that Wen does his best to stay away from any of them. If given no choice he will defend himself with his staff.