Sir Galdean surveys the group, "Been stocking up on essential supplies, I see,  Well that you have, an ogre can be a fearsome creature, especially when cornered, and hard pressed.  I suspect that I shan't be the only one to fall beneath it's terrible blows, but you may rest assured that I shall mention your souls to Muir when I stand before her, that she may command the priests to record your names in the book of fallen heroes."

The knight, himself, wears well-kept mail and a surcoat of white silk, emblazoned with the image of a sword, point upwards.  His boots are sturdy, if a little worn.  A simple steel helm and a white cloak, edged with red, complete his outfit.

A sheathed longsword and a shield, bearing the same sword emblem as the surcoat, are propped against the wall beside the knight's seat, and a simple steel helm with a mail coif sits atop the pommel of the sword.

"Do you need to buy more, or shall we set off upon our quest?"

" I could spend all day shopping!" Ozzy says, " But taking down a bully ogre could be just as fun I suppose! Let's go!"

"Impressive, sir."  Eilieen nods approvingly at Sir Galdean's accoutrements.  She hasn't changed anything about her own, really; Ozzy hasn't needed to sport her any coin on this day.  "Well, we've defeated a Wyvvort, so you may find yourself surprised at how things turn out.  Who knows?  Perhaps we shall come across a trove of coin and you'll find yourself comfortably set for the rest of your life.  You might open a school of swordsmanship, or the like."

Better that than the alternative, she considers.

"I am well-prepared," she concludes.

"Perhaps you misunderstood." Sir Galdean replies to Eilieen, "The rest of my life will be insufficient for the task of setting up such a school.  Old age and infirmity will see to that, and probably soon enough.  The sole purpose of this quest is to ensure that I die in battle, rather than in my bed in a handful of days, thus fulfilling the requirements of my order, and ensuring a place of honour at the side of Muir."

Ozzy's declaration of readiness brings a smile, though.  "Then let us be away, my friends, to slay this vile menace!  Bring forth your noble steeds, and let us find this ogre and put it in its place!"

The cart and the oxen are fetched out of the inn's stables, bringing a chuckle from the knight.  A chuckle which dies on his lips as sundry equipment is placed into the cart, and Fergus and Aarnr take their positions on the driver's bench.  With a shrug, and some little difficulty, Galdean mounts his horse and starts away along the street.  There are a few ragged cheers from interested bystanders who had watched the unfolding events...

The bold ogre slayers make their way through the streets of Bard's Gate, and out through one of the smaller gates in the surrounding wall, where they soon find themselves travelling along a rutted and pot-holed road which leads across an expanse of open farmland.  In the distance, the eaves of the forest can be seen, filled with gloomy shadows.

"In yonder murk lives our quarry." Galdean calls over his shoulder, his voice filled with excitement...

Aarnr cheers up further as the city falls away behind him (though despite the dark looks he casts back at the walls, it seems the gods are not yet ready to wax wrathful and scour the sewer-hole that is Bard's Gate from the face of the earth.

Still, even though it's a nice day, it is good to be back in the wilds, and makes pretending to be helpful and considerate less of a froggin' onerous chore.  Allowing Fergus to drive the oxen, lest he be tempted to have them race Sir Galdean's steed to the creature's lair, the priest keeps an eye out for trouble, and is at last rewarded by the favoured of Muir's announcement that they are drawing near.

"We'll have to go in on foot !" Aarnr suggests enthusiastically.  "I hope thou die gloriously," he tells the Knight. "And thou may go to thy gods in the sure knowledge that we will carve bloody vengeance in your name "

"Indeed!  That's the spirit!" the knight agrees cheerfully.  "A glorious death, and bloody vengeance.  The stuff of legend, and a tale to be told in these parts for decades to come, I'll be bound."

He eyes the edge of the forest suspiciously, "We can ride in a little way, I think.  This may be a poor road, but it does run a little way into the forest, at least as far as the old iron mines.  We can tether the beasts there, and search the surrounding greenwood afoot."

Colwyn pipes up, "If'n we's bein' lucky, that there bloody ogre'll be livin' at the mines, an' savin' us a bit of a walk.  It's bein' good ter get inter a fight when yer's not bein' dead tired."

A comment which brings a happy nod from Galdean, "Less tired means more strength to fight the monster."

Fergus brings the cart to a halt just a few yards from the edge of the forest.  "What's bein' up, Fergus?" Colwyn asks.

In reply, the farmer's son raises an arm and points towards the road ahead, beneath the shadows of the forest canopy.  A large tree lays there, blocking the path.  The trunk ends in a splintered mess, which matches the shattered remains of a tree stump still rooted in the earth nearby.

"Looks like we're walking."

Eilieen mopes along with the group, less-than pleased with the situation.  While she understands Sir Galdean's point, she can't help but feel there must be something more he can do.  It's against her principles to stand by and watch a man throw himself into his death...but then, it's his choice.  And she can't interfere with that.

Hopping down from the cart, she absently kicks a stone from the road before studying the broken tree.

"That's...very strong," she notes.  "It's broken, not cut.  Green wood, to boot."  Her lips thin.  "Are we certain this is 'just' an ogre?  I didn't think they were strong enough to push down trees that size."

"I pushed down a house," Aarnr remarks proudly, looking to Fergus to confirm his manly prowess.  He is positively beaming now, at the thought that perhaps it's a big ogre ... or indeed maybe even two of them !

Hopping down from the wagon, the priest unsheathes his greatsword, taking a whetstone from the pouch at his belt and proceeds to sharpen the weapon while he waits for everyone else to get themselves organised.

"My blood-brother will ensure your death is sung of forever," he assures Sir Galdean.

Sir Galdean nods, "Yes, very strong.  This should make for a worthy epic, and assure my place at Muir's side."  The knight dismounts and starts to tether his mount to the fallen tree.  If his allies are going to proceed on foot, then he can see no reason why he should not do likewise.

He considers Eilieen's question for a moment, "I have never seen the creature, obviously, though the descriptions I have heard would certainly fit an ogre.  The descriptions also say that it carries a huge club.  Perhaps that is how it smashed the tree?"

Fergus clambers down from the cart and secures the oxen next to the horse, pausing only to pat the necks of all of the animals.  "We beat ogres before." he announces, "We can beat this one too, if our friend doesn't kill it first."  The farmer picks up his axe, his scythe, and the sword, Valkyria.

"Ready." he announces.

"Just what are the descriptions?" Erista asks, in a just-making-conversation sort of tone.

Despite the grim task ahead Arkan had been enjoying the forest stroll, the smell of the pines a welcome respite from the stink of the city. He was an outdoorsy type at heart, and the sight of bright sunlight on a crisp day, as well as greenery of all sorts always lifted his spirits.

The sight of the fallen tree brought him back to the nature of the task at hand though, and he eyed the shattered trunk with trepidation, wondering about the kind of damage such a blow that may have felled this tree could do to a person.

He reached a hand over his shoulder and unsheathed Crescent Fall, the unique ring of the battle blade as it exited it's sheath echoing around them. The blade of the sword was as long as that of a greatsword, but thicker and sharpened on only one side. It also curved slightly near the middle, a technique that allowed for greater cutting power and better balance. Arkan gripped the hilt with both gloved hands, with the blade pointed downwards and to the side.

"I am ready." He said in a hushed voice, his eyes peering ahead from under the dark hood of his cloak.

Ozzy has his lute in hand, tuning it with a hum before striking a chord, "♪ ♫  Sir Galdean came to the dark wood, encountering a broken tree..." he pauses, trying a different chord before once again strumming the first, " Start with C? No, no... E. The good ones always start with E." he mumbles to himself, still working out the melody and lyric "♪ ♫  The green wood had been snapped, the heavy tree broken violently..." Looking up he adds, " Sure, sure. Lets go. Almost have the opening verse together, lets get to the rest of the song." Turning back to the lute, he continues to pick and strum, " ♪ ♫ Brave Sir Galdean held no fear in his heart... He was ready to shred the ogre apart... No, no... I'll Need a minor chord to set the bridge for the next chorus."

"Ah, 'tis good that you asked, my dear." Galdean says, addressing Erista.  "After all, it wouldn't do to attack the wrong monster." he chuckles.

"The rumours speak of a thing, man-shaped but more massive, by far, and with a bestial cast to its features, that stinks like a midden, and is clad in rags which look to be old blankets or the like.  Its head is covered with matted, greasy hair, and it carries a great club."

"One group of hunters encountered it, and say that it threatened them in guttural, broken Common before it attacked.  They only escaped with their lives thanks to superior agility and speed."

The knight takes a moment to remove his helm and mop his brow, before he replaces the headgear and starts walking deeper into the forest, "Now, my friends, let us begin the hunt."

As well as his armour, he bears his shield, and his longsword.  The latter unsheathed and ready for action...

Sir Galdean's description does sound rather familiar, and Ardens is wondering if perchance he's ever been in these woods before (most places with trees look the same to him) ... but of course, he's got a great sword and a great axe, not a great club, so it couldn't possibly be him ...

"Would thou counsel axe or sword, against the hedgep ... the beast ?" he asks the knight's opinion, bordering on politeness, though of course he cares not which weapon he uses and would fight the Ogre with his bare teeth if needed.  Whichever Sir Galdean suggests, he'll take in hand, and the priest is already clad in his chainshirt as is his habit, so he's naught else to do save follow on, alert for any sign of the beast they hunt, poised to hold himself back so the old Justicar can die first.

"Tis a nice day to die," Aarnr suggests as he begins to build up a healthy sweat.

Galdean laughs, "That, my friend, would be a matter of personal choice and normal practice.  I would suggest the sword, but that would be because my order has always used the sword, it being the favoured weapon of Muir.  Now Fergus, over there, he looks like an axe man to me, judging by the easy way he bears his.  He looked a sight less comfortable strapping that sword at his hip.  Aaaah... damn it!"  The knight pauses for a moment, balancing on one leg while he flexes the other.

"Forgive me ladies, my knee freezes from time to time, and causes me some little pain."

"Now, where was I?  Oh yes... I would suggest using the weapon that you feel most comfortable and proficient with."  A smile then, albeit a little rueful, "Given a choice, all else being equal, always use the tool that you know best.  Anything else would be folly, to my mind."

Colwyn grins, "Bein' give a choice, I's reckonin' as it'd be folly not ter be choosin' some other cove ter be doin' yer fightin', an' let 'im be pickin' what he wants ter be usin'."  The rogue thinks, briefly, before adding, "Either that, else a good bow an' a arrow what's been dipped in snake poison."

And so they continue on foot, walking along the rutted excuse for a road, as it leads deeper into the shadow-shrouded forest.

And, after about an hour, they come into a clearing which lays against the base of a cliff.  There is an opening in the cliff, too even to be natural, and an assortment of broken, decrepit carts, barrows and tools lay scattered here and there outside the artificial cave.  Rubble is piled on either side of the dark aperture.

"I's reckonin' as 'ow that'd be the mine." Colwyn suggests, helpfully...

"The sword then," Aarnr swiftly decides, "in thy honour," he is pleased to do so, moved by the knight's intent to sacrifice himself.

The opening in the face of the cliff looks suitably dark and forbidding and in normal circumstances the priest would rush in (as long as Eilieen said it was alright), but today is Sir Galdean's special day, and so he waves his hand to grant the Justicar the honour of leading the way.

"Thine ?" he mumbles questioningly if absently to Colwyn, unsure as to why the rogue would claim this place as his own.

Erista shrugs.  "You claimed a fort for your father," she points out, her face entirely serious.  "If Colwyn wants a hole in the cliff, I reckon it's his."

Aarnr nods dourly at Erista's explanation, vowing to be quicker to put in his claim next time, and idly wondering if any have claimed Bard's Gate yet.

"Bard's Gate." The priest elects to press his claim anyway.

"It's all yours," Eilieen confirms, gripping her spear.  Then, upon reconsideration, she stabs it into the ground, turns away, and blows on her palms for a few heartbeats.  Turning back, she eyes the group with a cool gaze for a moment before taking up the spear once more.

If anyone dares suggest she actually sweaperspired...

Well.  Everyone looks prepared, at least.  Sir Arkan, with his grim face.  Aarnr, eager to continue.  Erista, serious for a change - it doesn't suit her.  Oswald...well, not so ready, focused as he is on the music.  Colwyn, strong Fergus, Bilfro (not so much)...and poor, determined Sir Galdean.  Her stomach turns.

Miserable, Eilieen faces the mine.

"How shall we proceed?  Bring the beast out here to fight?  It seems more practical than attempting to beard it in its lair...."

Sir Galdean smiles, "My thought exactly.  I intend to stand here, in plain view, and challenge the creature to come out and face me in battle.  If it chooses not to come out, then I will be forced to go in after it, though that will be more difficult to plan for, since we don't know the lay of the land, so to speak.  In either case, if there is any life left in it after the battle, then you can all feel free to engage the thing yourselves."

"So, if you would like to take up your positions of choice, I shall issue the challenge as soon as you are all ready."

"Right yer is."  Colwyn says, and moves back away from the mine entrance and a little to one side, where he proceeds to lurk behind a tree, an arrow fitted to his bow.

Fergus takes a place almost directly behind the elderly knight, and perhaps five yards away from him, holding his scythe at the ready.  "Ready." the farmer declares

Showing his lute and loading his sling, Ozzy says, " Ready!" he pauses, adding, " If it don't come out, don't rush in! We can build a fire outside the entry and smoke him out!"

Arkan twirled Crescent Fall absently as he gazed at the dark opening to the mine, the perfectly balanced blade making a hum as it sliced through the empty air. He attempted to focus by emptying his mind so his senses could absorb any movement within the darkness, or indeed the forest around them.

He moved to the side and the back slowly, taking position to the right of and behind Fergus and Sir Galdean.

"I am ready. Beware nothing attempts to ambush us from within the trees." Arkan added in a low voice, in case the Ogre was not inside and somewhere out in the forest, hunting perhaps.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:57, Thu 21 May 2015.

"Thou should spit on them," Aarnr spots Eilieen attempting to warm up her hands ready for combat and is moved to offer his helpful suggestion.

Absently positioning himself for the forthcoming battle, the priest finds himself unexpectedly a few feet in advance of the elderly knight and perforce moves back, muttering politely under his breath, to see what everyone else is doing.

"No, no, no !" the froggin' pignuts his dear friends are far too eager.  "Thou will scare the beast away and the puttu... poor Sir Galdean will never meet his glorious end !"

Aarnr latches onto Arkan's suggestion. "We should hide behind the trees," he says, through clenched teeth, "ready to fall upon the Ogre once it has slain this good man."

Eilieen stares at Aarnr for a long moment.  "Yes," she finally replies to Arkan.  "We should keep a look out.  When we hide.  In the trees.  After smoking the ogre out."  Turning on a heel, she walks toward said trees.  It's more of a totter, really.

Reaching them, she grips the trunk with her free hand, breathing deeply for a long moment.  She'd known this would be hard, but...  Spit?  On my hands?  A sudden sharp shudder shakes the Zadasthan, and she rolls her shoulders in a vain attempt to relax.

"Ugh," Eilieen whispers.  She casts a forlorn glance at Galdean before ducking behind the tree.

Erista looks at Ozzy, shrugs, and looks for a good tree to hide in.  Once she finds one she likes, she asks, "Fergus?  Could you give me a hand up?"