Colwyn scowls at he cluster of structures that lays ahead of the group.  "I's not likin' the look of this.  We should be goin' in, findin' the Orcusites, an' puttin' them all ter the sword, quick as we can.  Less chance as we'll be gettin' caught."

"An' if'n this is bein' where Arranol's livin', we's needin' ter avoid 'is men, much as we can."

The mood Aarnr is in, he's as like to put the whole village to the sword, not just the demon-worshippers, but also any more guardsmen, King Arranol and anyone else who gets in his way.  His humour is not improved by the irritating smoke that's been blowing in his face like a personal affront from Crossroads the last goodly while.

"We should burn the froggin' place to the ground," the priest mutters ... though he knows that in the calm after the storm, it is unlikely that any of his ... friends would countenance that.  Friends.  For all he struggles to understand their sensibilities, these few souls are indeed his friends.  He'd be as angry at their deaths as he was at his blood-brother's demise.

And, it comes as quite a surprise, he believes that they'd be equally as angry should Aarnr himself perish.  While death holds no terrors for the priest, he finds himself wishing to spare them that if he could.

Aarnr sighs.  These city folk are indeed a bad influence.  When a warrior can't just go out and get himself killed gloriously, it's a sad day.  And yet, these kind-hearted people are avowed to enter Rappan Athuk where certain death awaits, just so they might end the evil that dwells therein, however futile the attempt.   Undoubtedly they are a-feared, where he is not ... but they choose to go anyway.

And so, for the sake of these friends, Aarnr sets aside his wish to slaughter indiscriminately and listens to his companions, even if that means the reeky canker-blossom Arrandol and his lack-spittle flunkies must live.

Standing with arms crossed over his chest and gazing at the village of Crossroad before them, Arkan listened to the words of his companions and pondered also upon their next move.

"Let us be surreptitious, hopefully word of what happened last night shall not have reached this place yet. We can inquire about the masons from the stall keepers along the road before entering the village proper. If we can find out where they are staying we can plan our next move then; either taking them out right away or waiting for the cover of darkness, or for them to leave the village and ambushing them," he said to his companions in a low voice.

Arkan's plan seems like one that Colwyn could go along with.  "Surreptitious" being a word that the rogue would like, if he knew its meaning (he actually believes it might be a kind of fish soup, but that wouldn't really make sense, given the context).

"Aye, traders's 'avin' good eyes fer strangers.  Them's dependin' on bein' able ter spot their customers.  So they can be tellin' a man's trade a mile off.  If'n the masons was 'ere, then the traders'll be knowin' 'bout it."

"How worried are we about this Arranol person?" Erista asks.  "It's just... none of his people saw me, except the... um, no one who might.. have reported back, saw me.  I could cut over to come in from one of the other roads and ask around a little bit," she suggests.  "See if it's even worth going in at all?  If the Orcusites have moved on, we could just circle around and keep following once we know which road to take, and if they're here..."  She considers that, and shrugs.  "Well, I guess at least if I can find out where they are, that's less time we have to spend trying not to run into any more of these so-called soldiers."

That surreptitious is equally as bewildering to Aarnr, but it's probably the reason that Arkan and Colwyn suggest talking to the villainous shopkeeps who would undoubtedly recognise the demon-worshippers as their own kind.

Erista's question confuses the priest somewhat.  The only worry he has about Arrandol is that the spongy, dog-hearted boar-pig might flee ... yet the small mage seems to be suggesting in that roundabout way of hers that the King might pose a problem.  Probably because of the body in their cart, hard as it is to think of Ozzie as a corpse now.

"We should have brought the froggin giant's head," he mutters, not liking the idea of letting her go off on her own.  The last time he did that, the rest of them got into a fight without him.

"Not a bad idea," Arkan said, looking at Erista after she voices her opinion. "Arrnol's cronies didn't seem to know you were there, though if word of what occured last night did reach this place they will be suspicious of any newcomer who enters the village today. It is your choice though if you want to split up and go in alone, it could work well."

Raising a hand and gesturing towards village he adds, "As for the uh, Orcusites, yes it is best to take them on as a group. And we should beware their foul arts; they could conjure more of the living dead, or make another of their transportation portals to call in more of their own kind here."

Eilieen has remained grumpily silent - and sorrowfully silent, depending on her thoughts of the moment - for some time.  Now she rouses herself to listen to her compatriots' words.  Aarnr might be surprised at how she feels about the 'king', hereabouts...but she, herself, will not countenance burning the village down.

Erista, unsurprisingly, comes up with something clever that might allow them to avoid trouble.  Zadastha's priestess cannot help but agree with it.  "I also believe Erista's plan holds merit.  She and Colwyn are our cleverest, and certainly the most..."  Pause for a glance at Colwyn, and she strikes 'surreptitious' from her thoughts.  "...sneaky.  Perhaps they might go together?  Then, if the followers of Orcus -" she nearly coughs the name "- are within, we do as Arkan says and strike them as a group, quickly and surely."

A shrug.  "If not, we are then well-prepared to move on as quickly as we can.  And leave this blighted...'kingdom', she finishes bitterly, considering Oswald.

Aarnr is quite pleased that he's not numbered amongst those for whom 'sneaky' is an accurate description, but he remembers something of the way this goes from before when Fergus was unwilling to enter some dogs-breath of a hamlet.

This time, however there doesn't seem to be the benefit of a ruined cottage to await the return of the scouts, and neither time nor opportunity to reduce one of the local buildings to such a state ...

"We'd best decide quickly," the priest adds, "before we're spotted."  At least the froggin' smoke may help them remain unseen a little longer.

"Either we hide the cart in the woods this side, or you lot jump off and Ozzie and me will take it down there an on to the other side and out and wait for you."  Aarnr grabs the bedroll that's tied to his pack and wraps it around his shoulders in a cunning disguise.

Colwyn shakes his head, "Aarnr's second plan's bein' no good.  If'n things's goin' bad fer us, Aarnr'll be doin' us no good sittin' out in the woods while the rest of us's fightin' a bleedin' army.  Best if'n Aarnr's bein' with us, in case we's needin' 'is brawn."

He considers briefly, then, "Might be as some other bugger what's bein' less good in a fight'd serve better ter watch over old Ozzy."  A jerk of his head towards Bilfro, who stands staring at the village and completely misses the head movement and the associated wink.

Aarnr's eyes narrow as his suggestion is damned as 'no good' ... but is much mollified by Colwyn's reasoning.  Of course it will come to a fight, and of course they'll most desperately need him on the spot so he can start one if neccessary.

And as none would dare challenge a madman, Bilfro seems the ideal second choice to stand vigil over Ozzie.

Eilieen nods along with the others.  Aarnr is pleased with this arrangement, Colwyn is pleased...she's not certain about Erista, but no objections have been raised.  "Very good, then," the priestess concludes.  "I take it that Arkan and I will await here, with Bilfro?  If danger threatens, we can come running...well, as quickly as we are able."

Erista looks at Aarnr, and then at Colwyn, curiously.  "They.. pretty definitely saw Aarnr," she notes.  "And they probably remembered him.  If I were going to describe us to anyone, I think I'd start with Aarnr.  He's very... descriptive.  I mean, there's no one," Fergus being dead, "I'd rather have in front of me in a fight, but... what if there isn't a fight?"

Glancing at Eileen, Arkan smiles and nods, indicating he is fine with her part of the plan. Truth be told he is fine either way, either Erista going in alone, them splitting up and going in parts or all going in alone, whatever the consensus is.

"Either way we should hurry before the day is lost, and search parties are sent looking for us." He says quietly. "Finding the location of the cultists is only the first part, taking them out without being taken out ourselves, either by them or the authorities in this area will be the real test. Even if we remain undetected until we make our move, any violence in town will be sure to attract attention."

Colwyn looks at Arkan a little dubiously, then glances at the sky ahead of them, where the sun stands barely clear of the horizon.  "It's bein' a bit after sunrise, so's I's not thinkin' we's needin' ter be worryin' too much 'bout losin' the day.  From the size of the place, it won't even be takin' a 'our ter search it.  Then loot it, an' burn it ter the bloody ground."

The latter for Aarnr's benefit, in case he happened to be thinking in those terms.

"If it's takin' us all day ter be doin' our business 'ere, then we's like as not 'avin' a lot of things ter be worryin' about aside from guards."

He checks over his gear, and ensures that his blade slides smoothly from its sheath, and that he has sufficient arrows, just in case.  Then he waves a hand in front of Bilfro's face.  "'ere, Bilfro mate.  Yer ter stay 'ere with the cart, jus' in case.  We's goin' ter be 'avin' a talk with some folk.  Make sure the oxes is stayin' awake, so's we can be movin' in a 'urry."

Then back to the others.

"I's bein' ready when you lot is."

Aarnr is no master of military strategy¹ but even he seems a bit dubious at the suggestion that Arkan and Eilieen stay behind and miss what is sure to be a long and bloody battle, with any luck.

"We're all goin'," he suggests², "'cept for Bilfro."  Someone has to watch Ozzie's corpse to make sure nobody steals him.  He nods thoughtfully³ at Colwyn's plan of attack.

"We've got some fishified bunch-backed cultists to kill."  And anyone else who happens to annoy him or look like they might.


¹ "Keep fightin' till the puttucks are froggin' dead or ye are" pretty sums up his approach to battle or any other situation, really.
² in the same way in which a colour sergeant major might suggest his charges might like to rise from their bunks for a 40 mile run in full kit in the cold and wet
³ or it might have been something he ate/bit off

"Very well, then."  Eilieen acquiesces to the group decision (really, Aarnr and Colwyn), and picks up her spear.  "We shall all enter, save for Bilfro."  And pray the cart remains here when we return, she darkly considers.

"But no looting and burning!" she sharply reminds.  "Not until we determine the situation.  If ever.  And that will require agreement from all."  Qualifiers are important, after all; it's quite possible some of the group will, upon confirmation of the situation, commence with the looting and burning regardless.

"We seek the cultists before all else," she grimly states, white-knuckling her spear.

Aarnr considers, finally grunting his aquiescence.  The cultists are ultimately responsible for Ozzie's death as they wouldn't be in this dog-forsaken cesspit if not for them, so while the onion-eyed guards and their malmsy-nosed king are culpable, he'd be happy enough to wreak retribution on the death-worshippers.

Though with any luck someone will try to arrest them, and then he can bring the froggin village crashing down around their ears.  Preferably in little pieces.  And on fire.

The group start down the slope towards the nearest gate in the stockade, with the exception of Bilfro who stays behind with the cart, head tilted back and mouth open as he gazes at the brightening sky.

The more sharp eared in the party can already hear the snoring from behind them.

Unlike Bilfro's mouth, the gate is not ajar.  Nor is it truly a gate, being more in the nature of a wicker screen propped in place to block a gap in the fence of stakes, and secured with twists of rope looped over the upper ends of two of those stakes.

As they approach the barrier, there is a scuffling sound beyond it, and a lot of quiet discussion, and shadows can be seen moving about, dimly visible through the interstices of the barricade.  Then there is a creaking of wood, before a man's head appears over the top of the palisade, some seven or eight feet above ground level.

"Hold travellers!" he calls down from his position, "This is Crossroad, chief city of the Kingdom of Tarket, and home of King Arranol the Mighty, Son of Heaven, and Beloved of the Gods.  What business do you have here this morning?"

Aarnr glowers.  He's certain the wicker screen would delay him only momentarily, however equally sure that doing such would probably earn him Eilieen's wrath.  Similary he's positive that neither the guards nor his comrades want to hear that "we're here to kill some froggin' demon worshipping whoresons and will slay any of ye hedgepigs or your bat-fowling beggar king if ye get in our way".

So the priest remains silent, even in the face of such provocation, though those near him might detect a low growl, just on the edge of hearing.

Colwyn looks at the ground and tries to conceal a smirk.

"Son of 'eaven an' beloved of the Gods is 'e?" he murmurs.  "I's wagerin' as 'is family's bein' jus' regular people, but with a bit more money.  Don't reckon as 'ow we needs ter be worryin' 'bout lightnin' or thunderbolts from 'is mam an' dad."

He glances at his companions.  Aarnr seems to have the nous to keep quiet for the moment.  He just hopes that the others decide to go with an untruth, rather than declaring that they're here to start a war.

Erista smiles up at the guards from beside Aarnr's knee.  "Well, crossing, mostly," she answers, gesturing down towards the road.  "What with it being a crossing road and all.  Though I'm sure it'd be nice to have a look around on our way through, support your local merchantry a bit.  Perhaps stay a night if there's a comfortable place to do so?" she asks.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:47, Mon 09 Jan 2017.

Akran waited a moment for the others to speak up, and when only Erista did so he moved his hood down a bit and gave what he hoped was a cheerful smile.

"Indeed! A stay for the night, and until then wander your fair town, meet the locals, enjoy and make merry!" Spoke the socially introverted battlemage from the far shores.

Hopefully Eileen would back them up with some soft words.

Eilieen waves her hand toward her companions, having made certain to keep her goddess' symbol prominently displayed.  "It is as my friends have said: we wish a room for the night."  She bows.  "One hopes that your city will take our coin..."

OOC - sorry for the short post, I'm struggling at work.

The priest listens with some concern to the lies that his companions espouse.  Spending the night ?  Surely they're here to kill the deserving, whether demon worshippers or ultimately responsible for Ozzie's demise ?  Maybe it's a colloquialism.  Spending the knight.  They are here at the behest of Sir Galdean's bretheren, after all !