Rhune frowns, "First of all how were to know it was your camp? We have been sore pressed the past few days and we hear strange noises. So one of goes to check it out. If you had been in the fights we have been in the past few days you would not approach anything unusual with caution. YOU did not even bother yell halt or anything. YOU just shot," she replies to the unseen voice.
The voice responds "Those intruding upon our camp without declaring themselves should be shot. If your friend dies, make sure and carry him off before you bury him!," Laughter follows that, one voice of which is amazingly harsh and rough, but the whole group seems to find it amusing.
Dakath raises an eyebrow and looks at Xania "I may not be dead but my pride is certainly wounded. They don't seem to be too bothered about him, do they?," he indicates his dead assailant with a nod of his head.
Xania nods, her brow furrowed.
"Now off with you, children. There's business to attend to here, and you'll only interfere with it. Stay, and you'll become part of it, and I warn you, it won't be a good part!" Once again, the voices laugh heartily, though you note that the few humans you can see have said nothing, nor laughed. Only the smallish figures, and what sounds like at least a few men behind the hill, along with that basso grunt that seems to be the most amused.
The group looks into the nasty weather they would have to endure to get any closer, and is quite discouraged. The voice rises up once again, "Take your man and forget you ever wandered this way, if you know what's good for you! You'll get more than a warning shot if you ever come around here again!."
Rhune looks as if she is about to say something but instead just snorts. Her hand is still holding the readied long sword and she is still prepared to roll off her horse at a moments notice. She really would like to see what it is they are doing and who they are.
"We need to see if anyone is on their way here. Maybe split and ride in separate directions. They seem to be laying a trap for someone. Maybe we can spoil it for them. I seem to find ruining their day a very good idea for some reason," Xania mutters.
Dakath "I think that's our cue to leave, don't you ? I'm going to need your help getting up," Assuming that they are allowed to move back to the rest of the group, Dakath whispers quietly in her ear "I appreciate you coming to get me." His head dips forward as he struggles to stay conscious, he is obviously in a lot of pain.
Xania helps Dakath up as carefully as she can, putting his good arm over her shoulder so he can lean on her, if necessary. She grabs Noir's reins and returns to the main portion of the group.
"I was jealous. You were getting all the attention from the arrows. I'm the pincushion in residence," she mocks lightly, though her eyes show a vestige of concern that she doesn't quite hide.
Dakath laughs despite his pain followed by a short grimace of pain, "Perhaps you should have made that more clear to them back there. You know, wear a sign or something."
Xania looks surprised. "Really? You think they can read?."
Dakath looks at her for a moment and then grins at her, "You know it hurts when I laugh?"
"I didn't know for certain, but I suspected it. Maybe later I will kiss it better?" She arches an eyebrow at him wickedly.
Dakath smiles at her "That would be nice and speed up my recovery I have no doubt."
"Then again, it might be more than you can take," Xania smiles.
Xania assists Dakath in getting back to the main group, slowly but surely. You hear the voice that was rising above the hillock chattering something in a harsh tongue, followed by the grunting laughter and the laughter of several of the small figures in the trees. Leslie dismounts, still trembling with rage, and hands Zephyr's reins to Xania. He then picks up Dakath in his arms, surprisingly gentle, and carries him back to the group.
Seeing their best preservation being heading off for now, the group beats a retreat. As they come down to the old trail that they left, they stop and reassess their options.
Suddenly, the three great horses come riding up, once again from nowhere, but following them this time is a great black centaur, it's man's torso rising up over eight feet in height. The expression on his face is not a pleasant one. Wasting no time with pleasantries, "Why the delay? The horses must be freed. Why do you return? Your kind also suffer there." Just at that moment, the cracking noise resumes. The man's face winces, and you would almost swear you saw wetness in his eye. "Attack them! Kill them! It is what you 'humans' (that word he says with significant disgust) do, is it not?"
Rhune stares at the centaur. She has heard only tales of them but never has she seen one. "We didn't know," is all she can say.
He listens for a moment, "You are enough to do what must be done, I think. If you must, I will allow the equine within to transport the rest of the humans to your wooden place before you free them, but freed they must be, and now!" The man's voice is hard, accentuated by yet another cracking noise from the north.
Rhune looks toward the north, "How many are there?" she asks him.
"That place is a place of death, a human place (his tone indicates there is little difference between the two). Thirty humans and fifteen of the greenskins, half in chains and half holding the chains. Those holding the chains beat your kind and my kind without moral. If you do not do this thing, I will free those you hold in bondage beneath you, as I should have already. If you do, however, I shall be much in your debt, and allow those you have captivated to remain in your service, for now." Another cracking sound softens his voice, "You MUST do this thing! You must...."
"I will do this for you. I am sure that the others will also help. Will you have your horses tell ours that we will need to get very close to the sounds and they can not make any noise while we get into position?" Rhune asks him. She reaches back to loosen her bow and get her quiver of arrows. Her mind is already made up she will help the centaur.
The horse-man shakes his head, "No, my kind cannot help you there. They are not knowing hiding and sneaking. They are only knowing running free, which is as it should be."
"That's 45 all together," Forte asks the centaur, "Are there only 1/2 of the _fifteen greenskins_ holding the chains? Or half of the entire 45 hold the chains?."
"No," the huge fellow answers "More are in chains than holding them. Those in chains are watched by those holding them. Beaten often."
"Well," says Forte, "does anyone have a good plan, or do we just rush in screaming like banshees? And can we get Dakath fixed up first?" He glances over at Leslie, "Looks like we get to put our skills to some good use here." Forte checks to make sure his arrows are ready, and that he can grab his sword as quickly as possible.
"A plan is in most of these cases the most cunning thing to come up with, but I'm afraid that my consciousness tells me to rush over there and free them! I've been in slavery for some years as well, although I didn't realize it to be slavery, but heck, you DON'T want that," says Ullar, emphasizing the don't.
"I can't even imagine what slavery is like," responds Forte shuddering.
"Big one, lead the way... I'll follow you to free the horses, the people and, perhaps, the greenskins," says Ullar, while repositioning his horse.
The creature shakes it's head once again, "I cannot lead, nor can I help. Long ago the humans bound me to not fight them unless attacked. So you can see why I need your help. Even such injustice as this!" he shakes his mighty fist, "and I can do nothing!."
"Are these humans held captive the Stephano and his friends you mentioned?" Tag asks. "It seemed to me that we should indeed be enough for the task..... Ullar, Forte. If they had much strength hidden in that clearing, they would have shown it to frighten us off instead of bluffing us that way. But it would be foolhardy to rush at them headlong, perhaps if we out flank them, we could avoid their arrows. Although, I doubt we could take them by surprise now that they are alert to our prescence." Tag draws his sword, making sure his crossbow and bolts are within easy reach, he checks his armor.
"Lungamente vive la morte di Doge! Ai nemici di Venezia ! I say(translation: Long live the Doge! Death to the ememies of Venice).
"Well, who's with us?" asks Forte, looking around at the group.
You already know that Rhune is with you. "Let me and Asif get into position. I will try to get around them to the other side. If we can get them in a cross fire maybe there will be less bloodshed. And if I get the chance I will see what I can do about freeing anyone, man or horse," Rhune replies.
Augustus stares at the great centaur with a look of total horror on his face, crossing himself several times, and uttering a rapid prayer under his breath. Then, aloud he says, "Great Jebohah, if this is your will for me to aid these creatures, so be it!" Then to Forte, "I am with you."
Dakath, still leaning on Xania barely listens to what's going on and manages to glance at the Centaur only briefly. "That explains a few things," he says to no one in particular.
"Augustus, can you aid Dakath first?" asks Xania.
Augustus at first appears not to hear Xania's request, unable to tear his eyes away from the centaur. "Huh, what?!" He replies. "Oh, yes...of course," again staring at the centaur as he moves to Dakath. Augustus pulls his attention away from the centaur and examines Dakath's shoulder to determine the severity of the wound, and tend to it.
As Augustus tends to Dakath's wound he looks over at Xania "Thank you for your help Xania, it was most appreciated," he smiles at her and then turns to the Cleric. "I hope you can fix me up Augustus, I have a real desire to plant my dagger in between that man's shoulder blades. Failing that I'd like to run him through."
Augustus examines the arrow and the wound. "The arrow has gone straight through, and that is good, but it will have to come out, and I am afraid that it will be quite painful." He looks gravely at Dakath. "Are you ready?"
Augustus fixes Dakath with his pale gray eyes. "I am going to break off this arrow on the fletch side, and pull it out...then I will heal the wound as best I can."
Dakath looks at the wound and then to Augustus. "If I'm to be of any use in the coming battle, it has to come out. I'm as ready as I ever will be."
As Augustus pulls out the arrow Dakath can feel the shaft moving through his body, he begins to feel nauseous and his vision begins to swim even as he struggles to keep from crying out in pain. His back arches and spots form before his eyes. All of a sudden the pain lessens and Dakath's body relaxes, the wound still feels on fire but the sickness has passed. He feels the pain lessen as Augustus casts his spell and the pain in his shoulder is replaced by a dull ache.
Dakath says his thanks to the priest as he lies down on the floor composing himself. His hand moves over his face to get rid of the sweat on his brow. He waits a moment before letting out a slight sigh as he begins to get up. He looks and sees that the Brother's magic has been quite effective, leaving only a slight twinge when he practices with his sword, nothing he cannot overcome.
Noting Xania right next to him, Augustus motions to she and Rhune to come closer. He pulls out a salve to ease bruising. Only Augustus' priestly vows keeps him from enjoying himself, as the damaged area on both ladies is their rather fine posteriors. Several of the menfolk take envious glances as Auggie rubs the salve in. Xania is much soothed by the lotion, and feels tip-top. Rhune, who took a bit nastier fall, is not so much improved, but does feel somewhat better.
Xania steps back and looks to see what the others are doing. "I have my spell ready as well," she mentions.
Looking over at Forte, "Why do you let me and Asif get into position with our bows, before you charge in. I need to ditch this armor if I am going to try and sneak any closer, though," Rhune replies already slipping to the ground and beginning to remove the armor. Once it is off she looks at it and sighs. She feels naked without some kind of protection. Oh well. "Just remember I don't have any kind of protection, now. Let me and Asif try and pepper them with arrows first. Especially those with arrows themselves," she says remounting her horse.
Responding to Rhune, Forte also prepares his bow.
Ullar readies his two-handed, examines it clearly, and then puts it back in it's shaft. Then his mind wonders off thinking if the armor spell Marika provided him with is still active.
He shrugs. "A battle could clear my mind," he whispers to no one in particular.
During the whole conversation, Leslie keeps silent. His usually sunny disposition is gone, and his features are clouded with anger, both at those animals who treat others with such cruelty, and at himself, for having backed down when his friend was injured and in trouble. He looks up, fingering his blade, and growls, "Whatever you decide, let's be swift. They will pay dearly..."
"I am ready to go now," Rhune replies to the warrior.
"I agree, let us strike like a storm in the mountains, swift and deadly," Tag responds.
One Dakath is taken care of, Augustus draws out a bola, and turns to the others. "I am ready, what do you wish of me?."
The experienced warriors notice Tag's rapier, a long thin thrusting weapon more designed for ritual duels than heavy combat. The handle is ornate with precious stones encrusting it, but the guard poorly designed again for melee. As his cloak billows open you notice his chain mail armor has a few damaged links over the left breast. The Gondolier is thoughtful for a moment. He re-sheathes the sword. "Perhaps if the tactic is to take them with missile weapons, then I would be of more use with my trusty crossbow. Rhune, Asif I will join you. Let us hope their cover does not afford them protection from us, or it may come down to hand to hand."
Dakath thanks Augustus for the help he gives him regarding his wound. "Before we all go charging in perhaps I can suggest something?"
As he moves closer he tests the movement of his shoulder. "It's obvious the humans are the more organized of the forces against us, I'd think if we took them out the goblins would flee."
"O.K," says Forte.
"I would suggest we give the impression of withdrawing before moving round to the east and attacking their flank. Charging in is going to get us attacked from both sides. Well?" Dakath looks to each of the warriors.
"Sounds good to me," Forte looks at the others to see if they are ready to go.
"A splendid plan from the deadly florist!" Tag chuckles grimly. "Perhaps we should try to concentrate on the leader for the same reason." Tag thinks a minute. "If someone were to volunteer to get through to the captives, then freeing them could give us some allies also."
Rhune looks at him, "I will see what can be done."
Dakath looks at Tag and grins before removing the flowers from his belt. "Entirely unnecessary aren't they?" he says to no one in particular.
Tag stops his laugh abruptly. He gives Dakath a quizzical look, trying to read the rogue's meaning. "Uh! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings Dakath. They're very pretty really. They would be OK if you put them in a little water," he offers.
Dakath laughs, "My friend, it would take a lot more than that to hurt my feelings. I added them on a whim, anyway they're beginning to smell. If you think they're so pretty you take them."
Asif nods his head in agreement at the plans being made, and then whispers quietly while looking a Tag's crossbow with some confusion. "By all means efendi. If you can hit a target with that weird contraption all the better. I assume it shoots missiles of some sort?" Asif gestures at the crossbow.
Tag replies, smiling, "Have you never seen a crossbow, mio amico? I will show you how it works when we are through this. Much easier to use than other bows, but a little slower to load. This bambino of mine is a marvel of Venetian engineering. No Venetian guardsman would be without one. Many times the republic has been defended with our superior crossbowmen."
"Yes join us Tag." looking at Asif, "Oh, yes. That is what the guards were using at the meeting Asif," Rhune says.
"Well I am indeed amazed. It looks efficient and if the marksmanship of the Bishop's guards is any guide, it must be a useful weapon for some. But I think there is no substitute for a bow efendi. It the most ancient of weapons, and has taken my people to many victories upon the battlefield. The misguided attempt by the Franks to invade my homeland 20 years ago being a case in point. Our archery swept the heavy armored knights from there saddles like sand is swept by the wind during a storm. Later if I may I would like to look more closely at this crossbow of yours, for like my father who is an weaponsmith, such things are of interest to me."
Tag gets a glazed distracted look thinking of the battle ahead. "In the end one device of death may be much like another, camerata. If I die I bequeath the weapon to you! Perhaps you could show your father and tell him my story." A somber mood overtakes him. He crosses himself and looks to the heavens. "Il dio ci porta la vittoria questo giorno," (god bring us victory this day).
Ullar looks at Tag. His eyes are cold when the crossbow reminds him of how the Bishop betrayed them all in Florence. A shiver runs down his spine when he remembers the torture chamber of the Bishop.
"I'd prefer a sword," he says to Tag, "but let's discuss weapons after we are ready here!"
"Leslie, do you mind accompanying me at the front? Forte as well?"
Forte puts away his bow and draws his sword. "Ready when you are," he says, taking a few practice swings with his sword.
"Just keep up with me," answers the young warrior darkly.
A faint smile appears on Ullar's face, but he says nothing and readies his horse to take off.
"Let's go," Ullar says to the rest of the group.
Rhune is already moving. She has her bow out and a quiver of arrows at her side.
Dakath is happier on foot, not trusting his horsemanship. "When the attack begins I'll hold back." He pulls his dagger out of his sheath at his belt, "With them distracted, maybe I can slit a few throats and if I can't I can certainly prevent any attackers getting behind us." Gauging the reactions of the warriors, he adds, "I'm no match for an experienced swordsman, but if I can get close enough..." he turns to make ready leaving the rest unsaid.
Rhune looks at him, "We are several miles from them already. Why don't you take my horse with you and I will slip back on foot. I will work my way around to the far side and sit up. But I would suggest you don't go to far or you will have to ride back to get there," she looks over at the centaur. "And I don't think we have a lot of time for great deal of deception," she says as she hands Dakath the reigns of her horse. Without further discussion she slips quietly into the forest, seemingly to blend with the trees.
Tag accompanies Rhune and Asif on foot as there is not far to walk.