Marika has repacked her supplies and managed to climb back onto
her horse. "Taras," she calls, "unless we find the horses quickly, your
father might set out after us. Can you leave him some sign that we
weren't hurt in this battle, and which way we rode?"
Leaving that matter to him, she rides into the eastern woods after Rhune
and Xania, and finds them in coversation with a small and frightened
female goblin.
Rhune heads into the woods after the small creature that fled.
As she comes riding into the trees, at first she does not see the little
one, but then picks up that it has resumed hiding in the crook of a tree.
It looks up in terror as Rhune sees it. Rhune notes that it is a goblin,
apparently a female of the snake tribe, and quite terrified. It quivers
with fear and looks up at Rhune.
Rhune puts her sword away and looks at the goblin female. Not sure if she
can understand common or not, "I am Rhune. I won't hurt you. Your Name?"
she asks with a smile. She will try to communicate with the female trying
to figure out who she is and why she is so afraid.
The small figure merely shudders as Rhune speaks to it, "Grona ruta beya.
Beya comasa." The words have no resemblance to anything she or Sam has
heard before, and they are followed by similar short sentences of gibberish
as the goblinet prostrates itself before the horses hooves.
Marika climbs down from her horse, much more carefully this time, and
reaches the ground without falling. She sets down her staff and
crouches several feet away from the goblin. "Marika," she says gently,
tapping her own chest. "Rhune. Xania." She points to each of the
others in turn. "You?" She points to the goblin, then spreads her
hands in a questioning gesture.
"Beya! Beya comasa!" She appears quite desperate, and in no mood to learn
the language.
Rhune hears Taras calling as he goes by, "Tie the filthy rat to a tree if
you don't want to kill it, or I will put it out of it's misery. Then again,
you could probably just leave it alone. It looks like the wolfskins did a
fine job of wiping out it's tribe already, and it will probably starve or
be eaten by wolves." Taras seems rather pleased with that idea, "In any
case, we must go. If you need goblins, we still have the ones that you all
tied up back at the settlement. We can torture them if necessary when we
get back. For now, we must get after those horses!" He then turns and picks
up the pace, whether or not any of the group follow him or not.
Rhune turns and glares at Taras for a moment, her deep purple eyes
glittering. Then her look softens as she remembers that he nearly had his
entire village wiped out be goblins. But killing the terrified goblinet is
one thing. She wishes she had some food with her....maybe she does. She
quickly searches through her stuff and if she can find a bit of cheese or
bread or hardtack she will slip from her horse and give it to the goblin.
"Here. Food. Eat. You go now," she whispers and points in the opposite
direction that they will be heading in. She then remounts and looks at her
companions as they head after Taras. Shrugging, "I couldn't just kill her.
Killing goblins that are attacking you and bent on killing you is one
thing. Killing an unarmed, terrified goblinet is another." She pulls her
horse up next to Marika.
Xania watches Rhune feed the goblin with some disgust. "It would be better
to kill it. More merciful than leaving it to be eaten by wolves, that's for
sure." She reins her horse around easily, using gentle pressure instead of
brute force to guide the horse back to the others.
She stays near the back of the group, once again avoiding Ullar.
"Good point," says Marika distractedly as she climbs once more onto the
horse, to the protest of her aching muscles. "Maybe she'd be safer with
us. Taras would hate that." She grins wickedly at the thought. "And
if we can learn to communicate with her, she might be a real help."
Ullar watches Marika's attempt with delight in his eyes. Although he
has no grundge regarding goblins, they have damaged him quite
severly the last couple of encounters, but the helpless sight of this
goblinet doesn't bring up any hatred in the warrior.
"Marika, Marika..." says Ullar, while smiling at her.
"You are way too good for this world. I don't object against letting
this female goblin live, but you are not going to take her with us
while we chase the others. At the sight of her comrades, she might
switch sides again, and then we're in real trouble, if it happens
unexpected."
"Although I don't like Xania's idea; killing her, taking her with us is
really not an option. Sorry about that...."
The priestess hesitates, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Ullar has a
point; Marika would never forgive herself if her friends were harmed as
a result of her bringing this little creature along. Still...
"I don't think she HAS any comrades, Ullar," she says. "The ones we're
chasing now must be whoever killed her tribe...probably the wolfskins.
I doubt she'd take their side. She might panic and give our position
away, though," she admits reluctantly.
"You might be right there, she looks harmless, but I really think we
can't take her with us in this chase!"
Ullar, also realizing that leaving the girl here is equal to her death
ponders the situation as well. He sighs and looks at the goblin girl.
"Hmm.. I only see two options.." he speaks out
"A. We take her with us, but she has to be gagged, not tied, only
gagged."
"Or B. Someone doesn't pursue in the chase and brings her back to
Petr and the rest...."
The warrior is clearly not happy with the situation. He mocks a little
to himself for being 'weak' and 'soft'. He whispers to himself.
"You wuzz.. did you lose your balls while fleeing from the Arena?"
The sound of someone clearing his throat is the only other sound the
ex-gladiator makes.
Marika points to the goblin and into the woods to the north. She pauses,
then she points to the goblin again, to the spot in front of herself on the
horse's back, and off to the southeast after Taras. She spreads her hands
in the same questioning gesture as before, trying to indicate to the
creature that she has a choice of leaving or riding along.
Marika seems to have gotten the message across quite well, as the little
goblin does not even think, but dashes off into the woods. She is quickly
lost to sight. Marika then reins her horse around and
rides with the others after Taras.
The goblinet is forgotten as Taras leads a fair charge down the rough hewn
path through the woods. The rest of you do your best to keep up. Soon he
calms himself a bit and allows the rest of you to catch up. Within an hour
of riding, he abruptly halts, and you join him in front of a small
encampment. It is made up of three old wagons that are combined with a
fence to form a crude corrall. Inside the corrall are over thirty horses,
among them two dozen beautiful white riding horses, twin to the ones that
you saw slain in the clearing. Some of them bear injuries, but it does
nothing to hide their quality from your eyes.
You see that there are four men clad in black leather tending to the
horses. Meanwhile, two hulking men in chain mail stand guard outside the
largest wagon. They both bear great blades similar to Ullar's, which they
finger absently when the group emerges. The men in the clearing also jump
to attention, though they appear to be attempting to look casual.
Marika turns a warning gaze on Taras. "Let us do the talking, at
first," she tells him. "If you go shouting unfounded accusations at
these people, we might just let them trounce you."
Taras frowns at Marika, but for the moment appears to hold his tongue. You
are not certain how long that will last, though.
Suddenly the door to the main wagon opens, and a good-looking elven woman
emerges. She is poker-faced as she stares at the group. "What can I do for
you?" She smiles graciously at you.
Ullar quickly dismounts from his horse. He tries to impress the elven
woman with his height and steps forward confident.
One of the two men guarding the wagon is as large as Ullar, and the other,
as Ullar gets closer, appears to be unnaturally muscular. Neither appears
intimidated by Ullar's size, and the woman seems nonplussed.
"Hello Milady" Ullar opens the conversation
"My name is Ullar, and these here are my companions," nodding to
the rest of the group.
"On behalf of this fine lad here" while gesturing to Taras "I've come
here to regain control of those beautiful white horses you are
keeping here. They have been stolen from him by Goblins and now
that we have managed to get rid of those green-skins, we've come to
you for the return of those horses to his clan."
"However, it seems as if you have encountered the goblins as well,
judging from the wounds on the steeds. Is there anything we can do
for you in return?" the warrior asks without hesitation in his voice
From atop her horse, Marika smiles at the elven woman. "A pleasure to meet
you, milady. I'm Marika," she says, raising a hand in greeting. She then
waits quietly as Ullar talks with the woman, privately quite impressed with
his flair for diplomacy.
Rhune pulls in beside Ullar and looks around. She is pleased to see another
elf woman. But at the same time she is curious as to why they are here. "Good
afternoon. I am Rhune," she says in elvish with its odd accent. She looks
around at the camp alert to any oddities about it.
Xania moves her horse up with Marika and Ullar's, "I am Xania Sqeulaiche. I
give you greeting."
The woman totally ignores all three ladies present, concentrating on Ullar.
She seems to be sizing him up. She speaks in a deep, almost gravelly voice,
"If you are interested in purchasing these fine horses, I am in the market
to sell them. As for them being stolen, well, I see no brands or marks of
possession. By the laws of this land, they are the property of whoever has
them, and I have them." As Taras begins to fume, the woman's tone turns a
bit more compassionate, "However, as it is quite possible that the goblins
did not pay a fair price for the steeds or indeed might have gotten them
through ill means, I am prepared to give them to you for the same price
that I bought them for, fifty gold royals each." Before any protest can
emerge, she waves her hand, "Now, if you wish to chase after the goblins in
order to retrieve your money after you make the purchase, I cannot argue
with that. However, I am a businessman, and I have mouths to feed." She
indicates the corral with the men and horses therein. "So I must demand
that my losses at least be returned to me in equal share. Such is entirely
reasonable, no?" She smiles broadly at the group.
You all can see that the moment of silence for Taras is over. Rhune looks
at the lady, "The goblins that we found had been eating the horses so I
doubt very much if they sold them to you. And if you did buy the white
horses show us a bill of sale for them, please. This young man nearly had
his village wiped out by three tribes of goblins who "stole" their horses
from them. We "found" what remained of the goblins who had them along with
the remains of some of the white horses as well and they appeared to be in
no shape to have accepted any money from you." She replies eveningly but in
a weary tone of voice. She is very tired of having to fight every few
hours.
The woman's smile fades immediately upon Rhune's words, "The goblins I
dealt with had not been eating anything. They were a frightened, battered
little band, many of whom were injured. As for your accusation, foolish
little girl, you would be wiser to keep your words in your head and let
those in your group more able to communicate do so. If the man's village
was wiped out and his horses stolen, that matters naught to me. I purchased
them fairly, and have all the legal paperwork to show it. How else do you
think I acquired them, by butchering the goblins? I have been trading in
these woods for years, dealing fairly with nonhumans and humans both, and
yet you have me throwing that away to steal from goblins!" She snorts in
disgust.
Rhune looks at her, "If that is true then you know that this man's family
has been capturing and training the white horses for years and they would
not be sold to some nasty goblins. As to whether you paid money for them or
not that is your problem not mine. The horses belong to Taras and his
family, not the goblins and not you," she replies huffily, her weariness
causing her to lose her temper.
The woman's tone is cold, "I know nothing of a blasphemer and his family
capturing horses and training them, and if that be the way of things, what
case can he make for owning them? As soon say the goblins, if they stole
the horses as you say they have, own them. This man stole them from the
wild, and the goblins stole them from him. In any case, I am the only one
here who can claim to have rightfully paid for them, and thus I am the only
rightful owner!"
Xania backs off and begins to ride her horse around the perimeter, looking
for the guards she feels must be hidden around the area.
Immediately as she does so, one of the black-clad men peels off from the
group inside the corrall and keeps her in sight. He allows her to ride
around the perimeter, but he walks inside her circle, always keeping her in
sight. This appears to disturb the elven woman even further. She turns with
anger in her eyes as Ullar and Marika speak.
"Yes, a bill of sale would help to clear up matters," agrees Marika,
sounding friendly enough -- she still recalls the old 'good watchman/bad
watchman' technique from the rougher days of her youth, and from Taras'
scowl, he has the 'bad watchman' part covered. "But even more helpful
would be information on the goblins who sold you the horses. Where did
you encounter them, and how long ago? And most importantly of all,
where did they go?"
"Less than an hour ago. They headed off into the eastern woods with the
money that I gave them. I encountered them here, as they came here to sell
the horses, as you clearly have seen from following their tracks." The
woman shakes her head, obviously not caring one whit about Marika's
friendly tone.
Her voice turns firm and serious as she continues. "As for your claim
to the horses -- well, I can sympathize with your business concerns."
She shoots Taras a hard glance, trying to keep him from exploding before
she can finish. "However, when you see such finely trained animals in
the hands of a ragtag band willing to unload them at a fraction of their
true worth -- and half the horses wounded by recent fighting -- you're
surely smart enough to suspect that you're dealing with horse thieves.
You can hardly claim ignorance when the rightful owner shows up."
The woman smiles again, though this time it does not spread to her eyes,
"And your claim of ownership means nothing. The horses are not branded, and
I would guess that none of you has the rightful proof of purchase that I
have, so you have no legal claim to the horses. If you think you have such
a claim, go back and get some legal offical in Arezzo to follow you up here
and we'll see what he says." She laughs out loud, and her men join her.
"Otherwise, be off with you. I have business to conduct here."
Marika smiles then, and continues in a more optimistic tone. "The one way
to resolve this matter with no damage to anyone's reputation or finances
would be to catch the horse thieves and retrieve your money. It seems
to me that this is your concern rather than ours, but in the interest of
good faith, we'd be glad to help you pursue them. But we must do it
now; we can't leave this young man's home undefended tonight."
Fyodorll's tone turns nasty again, "Do as you wish! If you wish to pursue
the goblins and steal the money I paid them, go and do so! I care not, for
you or for them! And as for defending his home, it appears you all did a
poor job of that if those horses belonged to him. You snare yourself in
your own falsehoods."
"We are not lying. We came late to the battle after the goblins had already
killed several of the villagers and taken the horses. We have spent the
night repelling the rest of the goblins. It is only now that we have been
able to even come looking for the horses." Rhune retorts hotly, her temper
rising faster.
The woman replies in her deep voice, the icy coldness of her words
countering Rhune's hot ones, "Sounds awfully convenient to me, that a
mercenary band would come upon a besieged house just in the nick of time to
save it, but not in time to save the horses that the man in the home
supposedly owns. Then that same mercenary band would accompany that man in
pursuit of the goblins, but find the horses had been slaughtered, but not
all of them, just some of them, and the others sold. Seems like a fine
chain of events for your group to profit. Tell me, did you see the horses
in the stable at this home? If not, how do you know this man isn't simply
hiring you to steal them from me?" She smiles, seemingly amused by her own
logic.
Xania canters back over toward the rest of her group, smiling at the man
watching her as she does so. She stays a slight distance away, not wanting
to fall into Fireball formation.
As she does so, the fourth man in leather rejoins his group, still eyeing
her suspiciously.
Ullar, nodding appreciativly to Marika for her wise words regarding
the horse thieves just stands still, looking at the elven women all the
time. His expression is one of anger, but a controlled form of it.
After Marika and Rhune are finished, the warrior adds another
proposal. "What if you would take the steeds to this man his village. I see
benefits for all of us there. First, we don't have to fear any goblin
attacks out in the open, second we all can get a decent meal and a
good night rest. We can settle this horse-problem at a more
convinient time..."
The woman flashes her gaze on Ullar, "And that would do well by you,
wouldn't it? To have me bring my goods to your home where you can do as you
wish without fear of retribution." She laughs dismissively "If you wish to
purchase MY horses, make me an offer. Otherwise, you are wasting my
valuable time."
At this, Taras' temper finally breaks, "You would steal the remains of my
family's hard work, then have us purchase it back from you!?! For all we
know, you hired the damned goblins to steal them in the first place! I will
not pay you a copper! Not one! Those horses belong to me, and I will have
satisfaction! He rides up to the elven woman, who does not appear to be
intimidated in any fashion. As his hand angrily grips the haft of his axe,
the brawny men standing on either side grasp their weapons as well, and the
men in the corrall leap over the fence (other than the one watching Xania)
and rush over, hands on their weapons as well.