Yesil the barbarian plainswoman, practicing her stoic arts, had contributed little to the reforming of the party but watched all with a practiced eye. With all the changes in the personnel sorted, for the time being, it was a very different group that made ready for the next fray to the moathouse.

Arek and Ronalt being the only two of the original party, Arek the unofficial leader.  The dwarf had earned her trust, while Ronalt had come recommended by Jaroo her only real friend in this ‘civilised’ world.  Her suspicion of the elven witch Tindoome Uurraumo motives tempered by the contribution she had made to the battles of the day before. At least a bit….

Amoungst the newcomers, Rolf and Kalador clearly felt they had already proven their worth.  Yesil, knew how close a fight it had been.  Without their diversion the party may have succumbed to the onslaughts of the dark forces arrayed against them. Orcs being one of their traditional enemies, the plainswoman instinctively mistrusted the half-orc. Such creatures, usually being the offspring of violence, were shunned in her clan. At best they could gain a grudging respect through feat of arms. Time would tell....

Newest to the group, the half-elf Iviana, exuded a confidence that promised much, though she too wielded the dark arts so abhorrent to the plainswoman.  The human on the other hand, Gwythe, seemed almost cowed in comparison. Hopefully Arek could instill some backbone in him before things got too tough...

Leaving the village, she was aware that there was a shift in attitude from the villagers.  They no longer seemed afraid of the group, more curious. The civilized world it seemed had a short memory.

Moving off into the countryside she and Ronalt formed the usual vanguard.  Their scouting skills well tuned to the environment.  The trail, by now, was so familiar that it took little time to reach the moathouse.  Gaining their usual vantage point they could see the ruins of the moathouse beyond with little fear of observation. The place seemed deserted, but then it always did.

If Elmo was to be believed, the going should be easier, the key players either dead or gone. With such a new-formed group this would be welcome.  Strategies could be developed in relative safety.  If however this was wrong they could be in for a tough time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:17, Wed 09 July 2008.

Tindoome kept mostly to the center of the traveling party, she shot a curios glance at the newcomer now and again. She was a half elf, witch had always bin a strange concept for Tindoome. Some elfs considered such to be the same as Half orcs for humans, but hers was one of a more curiuse nature not being prone to prejudice

Although she could not quiet getup the nerve to say anything, fearing that she would probably blur out something considered an insult. As the Mote house came into view she spoke a silent prayer and looked around carefully despite her self

She was warring her usual traveling clothing except for a new finely made cloak that she wore with some pride, it being the first trophy of her adventuring carrier. She would not openly admit it but she was quiet proud of the accomplishment. The cloak its self was a deep blue almost black with a large hood for rainy days

Her red robes had bin cleaned and mended, those that paid close attention could notice the addition of fine stitching along the pockets edge with something like silver thread. She carried little ells choosing to transport most of her possessions in several well positioned pockets

Rolf walked in front, scouting, bow at the ready. The ugly man had a careful, quiet gait that seemed at odds with his appearance and strength.

"Should we walk right in the front?" he asked the others.

Gwythe walks quietly through the forest, glancing from side to side and keeping a careful watch on both the other members of the party and their surroundings. Occasionally he dips his free hand into his pocket, pulling out a piece of food for the walk.

As they stop to look at the moat house he crouches down to keep himself below the horizon. "Where did you enter it last time you were here?"

"We got two choices," Arek grumbled. Th' front or th' back. Front's been blocked so I 'ear, but no' 'nough t' stop us."
Reports from Elmo's diversionary group had told them that the bandits, or whoever they really were, had blocked the main doors with whatever rubble they could cobble together into a defence.
"Th' back, th' way we last wen' in, should b' open."
"We go in tha' way."
There. The choice had been made. There seemed little point in struggling to remove rubble just to gain access to an area they already knew the layout of. The group would enter by the "escape" passage and clear the complex from there.

Yesil grunted in affirmation, squinting at the place.  "They will have set ferocious guard."  Ferocious. She liked that word and the way it rolled off her tongue.

"Be ready."  And so saying she fitted one of the short spears she carried into the little bone half-tube, threading its leather cord just so around her finger.