Tag takes watch. He pulls out his lute and gently cleans it. He begins to pluck at the strings, then realizes the noise might attract unwanted attention, so he puts the instrument away.
Tag turns down the lamp to a very dim glow to conserve oil. In this low light, he can barely make out shadows down the corridor, but as his eyes adjust he is confident he could see movement in the tunnel soon enough to turn up the light if needed. In the idle hours he ponders the strange quirk of fate which has brought him to this group. They seem such a varied lot, so different of background and purpose. He looks at each in turn. The Elf and Arab entwined in each other's arms. The strange Celtic warrior, barbaric of appearance, but seemingly so well educated. The humble and devout Brother of whom he has become fond. The vulnerable looking sorceress with the fiery tongue, who seems alternately to want to kiss, or slash the throat of the tattooed rogue. The stalwart Forte who is snoring loudly in the corner and the other heavily muscled warrior who takes so much punishment without complaining. Trustworthy friends they are becoming, he smiles.
Tag's curiosity through the night gets the better of him. He opens one of the clay pots and examines the contents. The strange red liquid is intriguing. "Could it be blood?, no surely it would have clots in it if it were." He talks softly to himself while on watch. "Maybe wine? It is similar in color to a rose, Si?"
He carefully sniffs the contents. He then takes out a small amount of bread from his backpack and dips the end in the liquid, noting the effect on the bread. Having done so many times with wine, Tag notes the same effect. The bread soaks up the liquid neatly, dampening it, but not damaging it. "Could it be some sort of acid? I wonder if it is flammable," He tries to light the piece of bread with his flint and steel. Unfortunately, the liquid continues to drop from the bread enough so that it is just about impossible to light it. Sparks do come into contact with the liquid, though, and are quickly put out by the contact. Tag shrugs and replaces the lid.
Tag softly walks over to Rhune to wake her for her watch. As he does so he sees her lips move as she mumbles in her sleep. "No, Asif my love, don't stop..," Tag blushes and quickly nudges the maiden awake so as to stop her telling any more of the dream. Luckily she cannot see his flush in the dim light. "Err....pardone, your watch my lady," Tag hurriedly finds his bedroll.
Rhune slowly opens her eyes. "So soon?" she says looking up at Tag. "Ah well," she sighs and slips from beside Asif. Putting on her armor she goes over to sit near the door.
The group manages to settle down for the night, guarding in shifts while Xania and the two seriously injured sleep. Tag is forced to use both spare lamp oil flasks that he carried, but makes it through the night, or at least enough that the group feels well rested. It is only when the group awakens that they realize they left the horses out all night without tending them! Hoping for the best, some of the group dash out of the warrens, several wrong turns complicating the process, finally finding the tunnel to the surface. Amazingly, the horses sit calmly where they were left. More amazingly, it appears that someone has fed and groomed them, as well as covered them! For the ground is rather wet, but the horses are not! No sign of the good samaritan remains.
"It would seem that the centaur roams far and wide," Rhees smiles, reassured that not everything in this wilderness is out to get them.
Forte asks the group, "Now, how exactly do we want to get Ullar and Dakath out of this rancid cave?."
Returning to the cave, Augustus proclaims that Ullar and Dakath are fit to travel, though they will not regain consciousness naturally for some days. Knowing they don't have that much time, the group begins the process of loading the men onto their horses. They also must decide what to do with the rest of the room's contents. For once, it appears that Mother Nature has cut you all a break, as there is no trace of rain (though it remains cloudy) a brisk warm breeze cuts through the air, and it is probably more pleasant than it has been since you first all arrived in the area. Rhune's injuries are still rather unappealing, though not grave, and the others are all in fine shape, with Xania having regained her spells, Augustus not due to his concern for the men overriding his rest.
Augustus watches over the wounded like a mother hen with her chicks, as they are prepared for travel back to Sukiskayn. "Careful...gently...good." Once he is certain that they will travel safely, he seems to relax somewhat.
In the morning Tag helps Rhune with her efforts getting the tapestry and the clay pots, she joins the others. She sighs about having to leave the chest behind but can't see anyway of carrying it without help. She touches the cuts on her face gingerly as she pulls her horse in next to Asif's.
Tag speaks to her, "We should take maybe one of the pots to identify its contents if we can, Rhune, but surely the stuff is not valuable Signora, must we take all of it. The chest, now that seems much more worthwhile taking to me."
"That might be an option but I would rather take them all than leave them behind," Rhune replies to Tag. "you never can tell what might be valuable and what might not be."
"Hmm, I bet it is just red paint! Like we saw around the room and on the door," exclaims Tag. "Unless, you want to redecorate the village I reckon we should leave it behind."
Augustus goes over to peer into one of the large jars. He puts his head over the mouth of the jar and inhales slightly, waving his hand as if scooping some invisible substance from the air. "Hmmm..." He mutters.
Augustus inhales the sour scent and deduces that it is some sort of red wine, not very high quality.
Tag returns to the room and pats the chest as he says, "Forte would your sword be able to cut these chains and show us what is inside. It may be easier to carry than the whole chest. Si?."
"Sure, I could do that. But it might destroy whatever is inside the chest..... assuming the chest doesn't just explode and bring the roof down on us all. Are we sure we can't take it with us?" After pausing a few seconds, the others can practically see a light bulb - whatever that is - going off over Forte's head. "Maybe once we leave the room, I could shoot an arrow at it from outside the door. That might set off any trap on the chest itself, and then we can get the contents...."
Seeing that such an attempt might not be successful, particularly with Forte's archery skills lately, he decides to load the chest up on the rear of his warhorse. Though it is large (about 4x3x3), it is not terribly heavy, and the strong steed bears the weight without complaint. Knowing that it is a short ride to Sukiskayn, Forte does not feel terribly bad about burdening the creature in such a way, though he has the brief notion that perhaps the centaur might not agree.
With only five miles, or so, to travel, Rhees suggests, "Let us press for Sukiskayn, the horses can rest when we arrive. Rhune, you are injured and I hesitate to ask, but your eyes are sharp - do you feel up to riding point? If you do, please take no unnecessary risks and stay in sight."
"Yes I can do that. It only hurts when I smile," Rhune says attempting to smile at the man. She nudges her horse out a little ahead of the others.
"Asif, I suspect you would like to be able to keep an eye on Rhune, would you care to lead the main traveling body?," Rhees adds.
"This I am happy to do Efendi. Aten's blessing has kept me free of injuries the past few days. I shall lead us this day."
Rhees continues, "Augustus and Xania, if you agree, perhaps you should ride with the injured and the heavily laden horses - warn me when the mounts show signs of fatigue."
"Yes, that would be fine with me," Augustus replies.
"And most importantly, as we leave this warren, Forte, will you ride in back - make sure no harm comes to us from anyone who might not approve of our acquisitions? If everyone agrees with this, I suggest we make sure everything is well-lashed into place and head off," Rhees concludes his plan.
"Sure, I'll bring up the rear," agrees Forte. "I wonder if we'll ever go somewhere without returning to Sukiskayn between every stop," he muses to himself..... Forte then remembers something, "Oh, Rhees, here's your spear. Thanks," he says, handing it back.
Xania, already riding near Ullar and Dakath, merely raises an eyebrow at the newcomer. Looking toward Rhune, she drawls, "I'm so glad Rhees suggested we go to Sukiskayn. I never would have thought of that on my own."
"What can I do my lord?" says Tag eager to please our new defacto leader.
Rhees chuckles softly at the jibe, hoping and assuming it was meant in fun. "Taglio! You can continue what you are doing - keep me from taking myself too seriously. If you can think of where your services would be most useful, go to it. Otherwise, I might suggest you accompany either our lead or our rearguard. We have asked much of Asif and Forte, I'm sure they'd appreciate the support and Rhune will probably be most effective as a scout if she acts alone."
Tag bows low "At your service m'lord." He chuckles, "I am impressed by your ability to organize us so efficiently, though I see your 'skill' with the ladies needs some work," he nods in Xania's direction, after their heated exchange. "Perhaps I could give you some pointers later!"
"Would you care for some company in the lead, Rhune? I am not much of a fighter, but I do have my spells back," Xania continues.
Rhune nods, "Yes I would like to have some company. Thank you, Xania."
Rhees shakes his head at Xania, "I never objected to your destination, just your planning and timing. One companion dead and two others nearly dead - twice - in the past two days and still you insist on rushing everywhere. And then, you jump from your usual sulking self to a petulant fit worthy of a six year old when someone suggests we wait... Now wait," Rhees stems off the interruption he knows is coming, "before you stomp off with a quick retort and a huff, consider what I've said. You're a remarkable traveling companion - smart, strong and determined - but whether you'll admit it to anyone or not, I suspect you know that there are times when you could serve yourself and your friends better if you bit back the angry words. As for riding with Rhune, I'm sorry you don't feel that your interests, and those of your injured companions, would be better served by riding with them - that way you have time to prepare a more effective response to any warning Rhune gives us. The goblins will team up against us. If we wish to survive and prevail, we must work as a team also. But I know better than to tell you what to do you ride where you think is best; for all our sakes I hope it is a decision of reason and not one of anger."
Xania whirls on Rhees quite angry now, fire flashes in her brown eyes.
"If you listened to anything I said, you would have heard me suggest we go there once the others were capable of travel. I never suggested that we head off to Sukiskayn immediately. That is a thought of your own making, likely to make your own ideas more important in your head."
"And I do not see where making Rhune ride alone in the front is conducive to being a team. I am not skilled in the treatment of injuries. I am skilled in casting spells which could buy you the time to plan what the rest of us will do. If you think that me doing what you say is the only way in which we can have a team, you are quite wrong."
"You are a simple barbarian and likely not used to giving the weight of a woman's words any worth, but you can cut the condescension right now. I am no man's servant," Xania whirls and nudges her horse to a dead run, in the direction Rhune was heading, leaving the rest far behind.
Rhees shrugs to the others, "I hope her anger will not cost us; I hope it does not cost me - she is quite capable."
Rhees retakes his long spear from Ullar and replaces it upon his mount, then, having set everything up as efficiently as possible, the group sets out. The terracotta pots, having been distributed among the riding horses and lashed on, have the disturbing habit of splashing out and some leaking from the stoppered tops. Thus by the time the group gets close enough to sight Sukiskayn, there are some drops of red on the horse's hides as well as several party members breeches.
Before that, however, the group must find it's way back to Sukiskayn. Xania's figuring turns out to be right, as traveling straight north for a bit less than five miles, Rhune sees the abandoned horse-trading camp a hundred yards or so to the west. Making for it as point of reference, the group sees that the place appears exactly as they left it. The bodies of the men in black still lie in their various positions along with Fyodorll's body lying outside her wagon. The rough tracks of the wagon that the group used to return to Sukiskayn almost a week ago are still there, though the rain has washed away all but a brief outline of them. Looking briefly at the other wagons, you wish that one of them might function as well, but those who have been here before assure you that is not the case.
Knowing that it will take most of the day to return to Sukiskayn, as it did the last time, the group makes progress. It does go quicker this time as they are not carting about the heavy, torn-down wagon, and following the trail already made by cart and the score of horses taken from here makes the ride an easy one.
Interestingly, Rhees sees a pack mule grazing on some grass just twenty feet or so off the trail into the forest. Calling a halt to the group, he paces over to it, wondering what it could be doing here. It has a full pack upon it (no saddle) and you wonder where it's owner might be. The group looks about cautiously and finds the answer quickly enough. Sitting in front of a burned out campfire are the bodies of a human and a goblin, embracing each other in death. Both have the weapons of the other (or their own weapons, if it was a dual suicide!) embedded in them, the goblin in his face and the human in his groin.
Asif shakes his head sadly.
"This land can be a most sad and evil place for the unwary. I pray that his god has granted him peace, he obviously did not find in life. We must bury the poor soul."
The goblin wears the now familiar red garb you have seen so many times before. The human is of unfamiliar ancestry, though he could be one of the locals. He doesn't look much like them, though, and it doesn't look like he's going to be telling you his story. He wears leather armor and has a longbow and a quiver of arrows strung across his back.
Asif removes the leather armor and weapons of the poor huntsman and wraps the body in the bedroll the goblin prevented him from sleeping in. Asif is gentle in his movements, taking great care and respect over his work. In his own musical tongue he whispers a few words, as he ties the bundle together.
Rhees helps Asif with this solemn task. He also takes the time to bury the goblin, quite separately and with a measure less care. Over each, again separately, he whispers, "May the earth you trod embrace you once again and comfort you as you mourn the skies you'll never see again."
Asif nods gently with gratitude for aid in his work.
"Efendi, I understand not the motivations of these greenskins. Why they so bent on destruction? If every land there is the have nots who steal and murder from those that have. But these creatures I understand not. These seem to take little and destroy everything. This makes little sense. I pity their obvious twisted souls that shape them this way. They must be unloved by the gods".
Rhees nods slowly, "It is the way of the world - there are those who create and those who destroy, each in its turn. As for what drives them, I cannot truly say. I imagine, though, that they would be equally confused by what we find important."
Asif nods and turns to his companions and says:
"If I may my friends, I wish to claim the armor of this poor man. I think it be light of manufacture and none cumbersome as it is designed for hunting. It be more akin to my style of fighting, than much of the heavy armor you wear. As you see apart from the turbaned helmet, I depend solely upon the speed of my blades for defense. This second skin of leather would surely be of benefit to me. But if others claim it I will understand."
Forte glances at the leather armor, then at Rhune, then back at the armor. "Well, Rhune, it looks a little big for you, but it *is* leather armor....," Forte picks up the quiver of arrows and offers them to other party members. "Anyone need more arrows?"
Rhune looks at him, "Yes it is indeed leather armor, but somehow I think it is far to big for me to wear. We could take it though," she says to the man.
Rhees waits for someone to speak up, when no one does, "I think it only fair, Asif, that the man who rides point should have some measure of protection. Wear it, with all our prayers that you won't need it."
"That is indeed my hope efendi. But ones fate is an unknown quantity," Asif replies.
Looking through the mule's pack, you find it contains the man's supplies, a rather fine waterproof one-man tent, a bed-roll, a bit less than a week's dried rations, a warm cloak, a spare quiver of arrows (20), a coil of rope, and a small flask. What is also interesting (and valuable, you assume) are the items stacked upon the mule next to the pack. It appears the man was a furrier, as there are several fine pelts upon the steed; beaver, bear, and several other woodland creatures. They are in fine condition, and would most likely fetch some price on the open market.
Cheered at finally having some good luck, the group harnesses the mule, taking the weapons from the huntsman's body, and sets out again along the wagon trail. They pass the site of the battle between goblin-tribes, and see many cracked bones and the remains of several goblin corpses. The near-score of dead horses appear to have proved to tasty a treat to be left, however, and several are completely gone. Those remaining have been stripped of flesh and now are bones and rotting internal organs. The stench of the place is almost unbearable, and the group quickly makes it's way past this place.
Augustus places a hand over his mouth an nose as the group rides past the charnel scene. "Heavens, but that is a stench I will not soon forget." He discerns a wave of tension that travels through some of the party members, mainly through a look or some other body language. Riding up alongside Rhune and Asif, he says, "I sense that this was something that happened before my time with you, yes?" Looking back at the rotting carcasses. "You do not need to tell me, I can almost see it as it happened."
Rhune looks at the young priest, "Yes it has. More often than we would like," she replies sadness evident in her eyes. She then looks at Asif and her expression changes to a much softer one.