Post by Ser Mehran S'Disraeli on May 15, 2008 10:46:24 GMT -5
((Originally posted by Orrin None-Son and offered by Disraeli as an RP subject))
Things had been going smooth, they were making good time. Then the storm came from the south and turned the mountain pass into a deadly mudslide waiting to happen. After days of traveling in the muck and mire, every soul was worn and weary. No one wanted to see firm ground more then the urks, who have not seen a proper Muth-la’s embrace in almost a week.
Then, as they started down the treacherous slope, the lead wagon lurched sideways and drifted towards the edge. With two children, one human the other kobold, and Evelyn on board Orrin bolted from the rear of the wagon train and still beat everyone else there. Grabbing the rear of the wagon he strained with every muscle to hold it. It slowly crept closer to the edge. Setting his feet he roared a fierce growl and began to dig troughs in the ground with his clawed feet. Suddenly the wagon stopped. Alo stood beside him pulling with all his might.
“Couldn’t let you lift weights without a spotter, now could I?” The former priest of the source quipped.
The two struggled with all their might until others arrived to help regain control of the wagon. With Cirrus and Tashem gripping the yoke, Bojac and Gurlohk the Reject dragging by the side boards, Alo and Orrin at the rear, the wagon was soon pulled to safety. The only damage done was one of the two horses gone over the edge slightly and broke its neck while twisting in the harness and the rear axle shattered.
After assessing the current predicament, it was decided to stay where they were and wait out the rain. This was not an easy choice, as they were near the border of the country to the north, Dominion of the Unconquered Sun. While officially the dominion government was peaceful, they had many factions with-in their borders that leaned towards pillaging and mindless slaughter.
The wagons secured, the animals tethered, and the cook fires burning, Orrin, Alo and Cirrus discussed their options. They didn’t have the needed supplies to repair the wagon, and they didn’t have room on the other wagons to leave it. Someone would have to go down the mountain and return with the parts. Sticky, being the best runner, was chosen and sent with-in an hour. The nearest town was two days travel west and well into Velkyn Province.
Upon Arriving in the small fort-like village after dark, sticky was immediately brought to a halt by a pair of soldiers in the black uniform of the Dreadwood Guard. Neither one looked familiar to sticky, and he knew a lone drow walking into town in the middle of the night was usually held as suspicious. Expecting to be hassled or worse, he gripped his short glaive tightly and awaited their reaction.
From behind Sticky came the familiar gruff voice of his fellow drow Raslin. “Ah well met brother!”
He took sticky to the feast hall and everyone heard of the Caravans Plight and every person in the room offered their assistance and equipment to help. Eldrin quickly spoke up and quelled the din of noise. Appointing a small task force consisting of a few Dreadwood Guards, a Crimson Raven, and a White Hawk, Eldrin and Raslin headed up the return trip.
After 6 days of being stranded in the mud strewn mountains, the Velkyn group arrived to assist with the repairs and help guide the wagons down.
Meanwhile…
With-in the borders of The Dominion, a small border scout troop had been watching this band of wagon with interest. They seemed to be led by an orc-like creature and a stout robed man. There were many armed and armored orcs and men scattered within the camp.
They watched as a small conference was held, and a single drow was sent down the trail away from the border. After holding a conference of their own, they decided to send word to the nobles and request orders.
Four days passed before they here back from their runner. A group of warriors has bean dispatched to put a stop to what appears to be a small raiding party.
Two nights later their re-enforcements arrived. Sure of a victory due to their superior numbers they spent a night of revelry before the next days battle.
When the sun rose the next morning, the small raiding party had been joined by a contingent of soldiers, archers, clerics and paladins. The numbers were no longer in their favor. The coming battle looked like it would be a difficult fight, its outcome uncertain.
Things had been going smooth, they were making good time. Then the storm came from the south and turned the mountain pass into a deadly mudslide waiting to happen. After days of traveling in the muck and mire, every soul was worn and weary. No one wanted to see firm ground more then the urks, who have not seen a proper Muth-la’s embrace in almost a week.
Then, as they started down the treacherous slope, the lead wagon lurched sideways and drifted towards the edge. With two children, one human the other kobold, and Evelyn on board Orrin bolted from the rear of the wagon train and still beat everyone else there. Grabbing the rear of the wagon he strained with every muscle to hold it. It slowly crept closer to the edge. Setting his feet he roared a fierce growl and began to dig troughs in the ground with his clawed feet. Suddenly the wagon stopped. Alo stood beside him pulling with all his might.
“Couldn’t let you lift weights without a spotter, now could I?” The former priest of the source quipped.
The two struggled with all their might until others arrived to help regain control of the wagon. With Cirrus and Tashem gripping the yoke, Bojac and Gurlohk the Reject dragging by the side boards, Alo and Orrin at the rear, the wagon was soon pulled to safety. The only damage done was one of the two horses gone over the edge slightly and broke its neck while twisting in the harness and the rear axle shattered.
After assessing the current predicament, it was decided to stay where they were and wait out the rain. This was not an easy choice, as they were near the border of the country to the north, Dominion of the Unconquered Sun. While officially the dominion government was peaceful, they had many factions with-in their borders that leaned towards pillaging and mindless slaughter.
The wagons secured, the animals tethered, and the cook fires burning, Orrin, Alo and Cirrus discussed their options. They didn’t have the needed supplies to repair the wagon, and they didn’t have room on the other wagons to leave it. Someone would have to go down the mountain and return with the parts. Sticky, being the best runner, was chosen and sent with-in an hour. The nearest town was two days travel west and well into Velkyn Province.
Upon Arriving in the small fort-like village after dark, sticky was immediately brought to a halt by a pair of soldiers in the black uniform of the Dreadwood Guard. Neither one looked familiar to sticky, and he knew a lone drow walking into town in the middle of the night was usually held as suspicious. Expecting to be hassled or worse, he gripped his short glaive tightly and awaited their reaction.
From behind Sticky came the familiar gruff voice of his fellow drow Raslin. “Ah well met brother!”
He took sticky to the feast hall and everyone heard of the Caravans Plight and every person in the room offered their assistance and equipment to help. Eldrin quickly spoke up and quelled the din of noise. Appointing a small task force consisting of a few Dreadwood Guards, a Crimson Raven, and a White Hawk, Eldrin and Raslin headed up the return trip.
After 6 days of being stranded in the mud strewn mountains, the Velkyn group arrived to assist with the repairs and help guide the wagons down.
Meanwhile…
With-in the borders of The Dominion, a small border scout troop had been watching this band of wagon with interest. They seemed to be led by an orc-like creature and a stout robed man. There were many armed and armored orcs and men scattered within the camp.
They watched as a small conference was held, and a single drow was sent down the trail away from the border. After holding a conference of their own, they decided to send word to the nobles and request orders.
Four days passed before they here back from their runner. A group of warriors has bean dispatched to put a stop to what appears to be a small raiding party.
Two nights later their re-enforcements arrived. Sure of a victory due to their superior numbers they spent a night of revelry before the next days battle.
When the sun rose the next morning, the small raiding party had been joined by a contingent of soldiers, archers, clerics and paladins. The numbers were no longer in their favor. The coming battle looked like it would be a difficult fight, its outcome uncertain.