Birthright 2: Promises to Keep

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

PECHALINN

"If they did, that's a hell of a lot of bacon," he replies to Roald.

Turning back to his mean, he says, "I'm going down for a look; wait here for Foerde." Then, to Roald. "Care to join me, Siegebreaker?"

[Varrus the Ethical]

PECHALLIN

"Sure, Captain. May as well make sure that is in fact a cooking accident.," Roald says, his tone jovial. However, he pulls his sword an inch out of its scabbard to make sure his draw is clear, then pushes it back home with a click.

He turns in his saddle and faces his squire. "Reece, remain here with Captain Ghonallison's men. Give The Huntsmen my complements if he arrives before we return."

He turns to Renn. "Onwards, Captain?"

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

"Let's." Renn starts his horse toward the smoke in a steady trot, keeping an eye out for any signs of an ambush.

[VAN]

Filbert has just taken a seat beside Father Michael when the Duke appears. In an instant the halfling jumps from his seat and bows to Devlin. Trying to sound confident the halfling says:

"I'm ready for our new adventure Your Grace. If you believe that we should descend right now and not wait the morning light then this is what we will should do. Is there anything we need to know about this witch Maeve? What should we expect?"

[RocEter]

Pechallin province, western border

The outrider draws reins to halt his mare atop a hill. Before and below him nothing but snow, boulders, and wind-twisted pines for miles, and then, far out, the brown and fallow fields of the Tuornen plain.



The woman guides her chestnut gelding up to join him, waiting a moment in silence at his left side. She pushes her hood back and turns towards the outrider with a pained expression on her heart-shaped, youthful face. Her ear tips and cheeks blush red in the wind.

“I am sorry I can’t stay on with you longer. This trouble in the east…bah, politics! But if I don’t get out there myself, soon, and set it right, we’ll see members of the order killing one another instead of fighting goblins or the Manslayer’s raiders.”
She places both her hands on the saddle horn, leans forward a little, and sighs.
“I will make an offering for your success.”

After trotting her mount a short distance downhill, she turns back to look up at the man she’s leaving behind.
“Good luck, Foerde.”

"Thank you." He says as she rides past him "I will make an offering for your success before continuing with my journey."

He watches her as she rides down hill. "Good Luck to you, as well." He says continuing to watch her as she rides off.

Turning his mare around, the cat-man rides down the hill to join the others.

[JMaytr]

"I know not what to expect my friend. But I believe in my heart that Maeve means me no harm. I cant be sure about the Norge itself however. Let us tread softly but surely through that place."

Devlin checks his weapons and gear finding everything in its place.

"Alright men," the duke addresses everyone, his eyes falling on Michael as he says 'men'. "Many of you have heard ill legends concerning this place. Fret not, as haunted as it may be, Croaker Norge is still Tuornen, and the land is loyal to me just as I am to it. Let's make our way. Gunner, take point, and if anything gets in our way, cut it down."

He winks at Lord Filbert, and gives him that smile that has so often signaled some great mischief about to occur.

[Lord Skybolt]

"Yes, your grace ." With that Gunnar leads the group down into the Norge with weapons at the ready for any danger to the party .

[kintire]

CROAKER NORGE

Safana bows gracefully in thanks to the guards, and follows them to the Duke's party. With her face covered by a flap of fur against the cold she allows herself a slightly sarcastic smile at the strirring speech, before following the group down into the swirling mist. Depressing as the cols and grim weather undeniably is, she has a growing spark of curiosity about what lies ahead.

[ewancummins]

PECHALLIN BORDERLANDS


Renn and Roald ride down towards the smoke.

They discover a small campsite with a fire pit burning. Four green creatures the size of children huddle around the fire; goblins. They appear to be cooking some sort of meat on a spit, maybe a large rat or a small dog.

The goblins rise as the human riders come near. They keep their hands near the hilts of their long-knives, but do not draw blades or advance.

One of the greenskins favors Roald and Renn with a toothy grimace.
“Nice humans, good humans! No fighting. You want to makes trades?”

The goblin speaker motions towards a handcart heaped with stuff, which sits on the far side of the campfire. The men see furs, blankets, and the bright rim of a copper pot.

Renn and Roald hear a rider approaching from their rear. A hasty glance shows that it’s Foerde…







DESCENT INTO CROAKER NORGE

Gunnar goes down first, his armored boots clicking on the steps of the old stairway. The big man moves at a cautious pace, careful lest he slip on the damp stone and tumble into the depths of Croaker Norge.

A boy with a pole-mounted lantern follows, lighting the way for Gunnar by thrust the lantern up high or angling it off to the open left side, away from the clammy stone wall.
The Duke and his companions come on behind the linkboy.

The deeper the party goes, the thicker the mists gather. Torches that had shone a cheery red in the upper air now throw off feeble green light. A chorus of amphibians, hidden but sounding near indeed, echoes through the deep.

The croaking grows louder.
Gunnar sights the bottom first: boggy earth and pools of foetid water.
The warm, stifling air smells of peat.

Gunnar splashes in knee deep muck before finding a sunken walkway where the stones rest just a few inches below the watery sludge.

The big man has just clambered up onto the sunken path as something merges from the gloom ahead of him; a squat figure wrapped in a hooded cloak.
It holds out its right hand, revealing four stubby wingers as pale and slick as maggots.
‘’Follow”’, it says in a strained voice.

[Varrus the Ethical]

PECHALLIN

Roald chuckles. "I don't think I'm one of the nice or good humans, but I am in a favorable mood. And besides, it's elves I'm looking to fight."

He glances at the Goblins' cart and scratches his beard thoughtfully for a moment. "Perhaps there is something we can trade. I don't suppose you have news regard the elves. And I mean the really mean ones, who like hunt mortal races such as yours and mine for sport."

Roald pulls a silver coin out of his purse, and starts fondling it idly in his gloved hand, holding it high enough for the creature to see.

[ewancummins]

PECHALLIN

Roald chuckles. "I don't think I'm one of the nice or good humans, but I am in a favorable mood. And besides, it's elves I'm looking to fight."

He glances at the Goblins' cart and scratches his beard thoughtfully for a moment. "Perhaps there is something we can trade. I don't suppose you have news regard the elves. And I mean the really mean ones, who like hunt mortal races such as yours and mine for sport."

Roald pulls a silver coin out of his purse, and starts fondling it idly in his gloved hand, holding it high enough for the creature to see.

The goblin's smile vanishes.
"We hate elfs. Traitors!"

It looks left and right at its companions.

They all nod and repeat ''Hate elfs! Traitor elfs!"

The spokes-goblin eyes the coin for a moment, and then adds,

"We don't see any elfs here. But we find their kill. Their arrows. We can show you."

[Varrus the Ethical]

PENCHALLIN

Roald smiles and flicks the coin at the goblin. "If it's not too much trouble. Shall we wait for you and yours to finish breakfast?"

[ewancummins]

PECHALLIN BORDERLANDS

PENCHALLIN

Roald smiles and flicks the coin at the goblin. "If it's not too much trouble. Shall we wait for you and yours to finish breakfast?"

The talker catches the coin and stuffs it inside his ragged coat.

One of the other goblins snatches up the spitted, charred meat and begins slicing it with a knife.

The talkative one says, "You hungry? Got more food?"
It gestures towards the still burning cook-fire.
"Share food. Big eats."

[Brock Marsh Runoff]

Renn expects to see a burning homestead, so the goblins with the fire surprises him. Still, he manages to keep his hands from his weapons. He'd taken more than a few goblin scalps in his time, but Roald has the right of it--concentrate on one enemy for now.

Renn rifles through the goblins' wares. Probably some raiding done here. But that's Kerran Pechalinn's problem, not Renn's.

"Already ate, thanks" he says, giving the roasting pet/varmint a sidelong glance. "What have the elves been killing? Men? Game?"

[ewancummins]

PECHALLIN

Renn expects to see a burning homestead, so the goblins with the fire surprises him. Still, he manages to keep his hands from his weapons. He'd taken more than a few goblin scalps in his time, but Roald has the right of it--concentrate on one enemy for now.

Renn rifles through the goblins' wares. Probably some raiding done here. But that's Kerran Pechalinn's problem, not Renn's.

"Already ate, thanks" he says, giving the roasting pet/varmint a sidelong glance. "What have the elves been killing? Men? Game?"

The spokes-goblin answers,
"They kill the trapper man."

Another goblin smiles at Renn, picking chunks of blackened meat from its teeth.
It says, "But they leave good meat. Stupid elfs.''