Ovo grabs his throwing axe and launches it at the fleeing orc.

Well, he throws the axe . . . It can't really be said that it was at the orc.  It might even be argued that whatever he did cannot be characterized as a throw.

"Incoming!" he yells in a feeble attempt to warn his comrades about the wayward weapon (which he will endeavor to recover despite its wanton tendencies).


08:20, Today: Ovo Goldenshield rolled 2 using 1d20+1.  Throwing Axe.

Shank succeeds in bringing the fleeing Orc down, and the battle has ended.

The bodies are searched, but nothing of real value is found, unless you could the necklace the largest male was wearing, consisting of colored stones.

A search of the area where Brudher vanished from shows a sink hole, already collapsed in upon itself. Any attempt to dig him out fails as the pit continues to fill in as you dig.

Ovo, ever the sentimental dwarf, appears to be fighting back tears at the loss of his comrade.

Shank, looking saddened by the loss of their companion, merely states, "Mind your steps."

Realizing he couldn't do much of anything for the fallen Brudher, he turns his attentions to the fallen foe.  Seeing the necklace on the largest male, he collects that.  Between his poor archery and how the enemy responded when he did hit, there didn't seem to be a lot to be gained by searching for his arrows, they'd stirred up enough commotion and he was more interested in preserving his manhood than his arrows.  He does take a quick look at the weapons to see if they're worth keeping.  Spears certainly weren't his weapon of choice though.

The spears were primitive, hand-worked flint for the tips, well balanced and light. Clearly more for small game that combat.

Finding nothing on the orcs that might assist them, D'Amboise motions Ovo to help him drag the corpses into the ungrowth to conceal them, then kicks dirt over any telltale patches of blood, hoping to cover them as best he can.

The loss of Brudher weighs heavily upon the priest's mind ...

"The city we seek ... if it is sunk beneath the ground, then our goblin friend may have inadvertently discovered an entrance.  I pray as much, for if so he still may be counted among the living.  The question is - do we dare risk that hope and follow the path he has taken ?"

Shank shakes his head.  "If we take that path, I don't see any way to get back out.  Better we don't to down with all the baggage that carries then to get down there and have no way back.  We keep n the way we were and look for a route that's no so final."

The party pokes at the sink hole and decide that it is no longer open and that Shank's suggestion is probably the best, despite the sadness of leaving a companion behind. Some might suggest heck, he was just a goblin, but to others he had become family.

Continuing the path south by south-west, the party slows slightly due to the loss of perhaps their best pair of eyes for this type of journey, but Shank keeps the party safe by routing them around several traps.


Totems with human skulls and crude Orcish etching are soon found. They all say some variant of  clearly marking a boundary. The party can skirt these to the east or west, or continue thru land claimed by what one must assume are the tribe of the Orc's already met in combat.

In reply to The Dreamer of Worlds (msg # 55):

OOC here just R/L got me, will post Monday/Tuesday ......

The priest bows to the counsel of the scout, if not gladly, for even if Brudher yet lives, he is alone, but somewhat thankfully, for to follow would seem much like stepping willingly into one's own grave.

"Which way does our path lie ?"  D'Amboise asks Shank.  "If we must enter the lands of the orcs then so be it."

"I 'tink we must, don't you?" Ovo says, but he doesn't explain why he thinks this.

Perhaps it's just that he hates orcs.

In reply to Ovo Goldenshield (msg # 58):

Looks about in a circle after helping check the area Brudher fell into.

South, we go South now.  The opening might be that way and enough up hill walking.  Smiles and prepares to move on - Shank keep scouting if you like Ova, you may get to hone in on that Orc fighting skills,

D'Amboise, do we need any healing passed aboutas Thatch takes a quick look at his own wound.

Still with his blood up after the last fight and looking for the next, the priest had scarcely felt his own wound, let alone thought of his companions ... but Thatch's question brings D'Amboise back to more practical matters.

"Aye," he nods.  "How badly are you hurt ... and anyone else ?"

"I'm nicked, is all."

In reply to Ovo Goldenshield (msg # 61):

Chuckles at Ovo's comment Nicked is all.  Well, I am a bit more fragile then my sturdy friend Dwarf from all my time in studies but I think I will survive?  how about your self D'Amboise as Thatch looks over D'A,boises wounds.

OOC - Damage report Mr. Scott?

Shank shakes his head.  "You guys took the brunt of it, no damage on my part, and not all that much inflicted either."  He smiles ruefully.  He may have been in the army, but he'd never been a front line soldier, he was always looking to avoid fights, not win them.

OOC allowing D'Amboise to his next post to cast a heal if he opts to, but moving things along anyway.

Opting to shift their route from W-SW to due south to allow for their passage thru the heart of the lands of a tribe of jungle Orcs, the party proceeds past the warning skulls and into dangerous territory.

In reply to The Dreamer of Worlds (msg # 64):

Thatch looks nervously about and whispers, maybe this was not the best route? as he looks at a fresh skull.

"Just warnings, m'lad . . . just warnings."

Like the Dwarf, D'Amboise regards the shallow puncture wound from the spear and the deep scratches on his face a mere inconvenience.  Even so, he brushes aside Thatch's protests that his own wounds are not worth the trouble, offering up a prayer to Wotan to cure the mage.  "You lack our metal," he jests with Thatch, tapping his breastplate, "I'd rather be sure you were a step further from Hel's door if our foes return." 

"Warnings ?  Or taunts, perhaps ?" the priest stares back at the skulls belligerently.  "Such tokens do not trouble me."

Shank looks at the skulls, trying to determine how fresh they are and if they're human or not.  " Best buck up, from what we've heard, I'd expect a lot worse further on."

In reply to Shank (msg # 68):

OOC - Um, I think Thatch took 4 ho damage, not sure D;Amboise or Ovo damage but also, how many CLW do we have?  Deciding how to prep as we go further.

OOC: Don't know if DM lets us share specific numbers -- just say I'm approximately 80% of full health.

A short distance into the lands of the jungle Orcs, Shank calls a halt.

Shank's voice is ow.  "We're getting into a pretty well traveled area of orcs and cats.  If we keep straight on, I suspect we'll wish we tried the sinkhole."