Totmacher continues to snore...

<quote Villhalas of Cameron> <quote Asher Willbourne>
...His hands vibrate with the mix of adrenaline and Ki that always seem to follow combat..

...with every strike, Asher envisioned the swirling hand gestures of some imaginary sorcerer dancing about his face. It had been so many years since the caster had killed his family, that Asher could no longer remember the face. But the waving hand gestures were burned into his memory like the fluttering of the wings of the angel of death itself. Every foe had become that wicked sorcerer. Every howl of wind through the trees became the sound of his village crying out for mercy.

And the voices... the voices came so much more frequently. Daily now they goaded him on. Egged him into believing that everyone Asher met who had so much as a pouch on his belt, was the villian he sought.

How many nights now had it been, that Asher had stood over the sleeping body of the one called Villhalas; wrestling with himself to see through the illusion, to see the man as a friend and not a faceless, gesturing villian. And how many more nights could he possibly win this battle with the voices, before draining the sorcerers blood into his bedroll...

...What? The horses? Yes, the horses. We should find the horses..."

Sleep tight sorcerer <grin>
This message was last edited by the player at 02:49, Wed 18 May 2005.

OOC - Heavy stuff man...

OOC: too much time on my hands tonight. and messing with my brother is always a worthwhile distraction.

Yaawwnnnn

V

OOC:  Careful Monk.  Those hand motions of Vil's can quickly morph into a psychologically damaging PING - produced by a simple Flick of his Right Thumb and Middle Finger...  /grins evilly

His Palonish blood brought to a temporary simmer by what could either be the barbarian's stubborn uncouthness or cheerful obliviousness, Perrato meditates for a moment on his broader mission and the greater good of the party. Exhaling gently and slowly, he gathers himself and moves to attend to the group's wounds. With the help of Vagrani, the cleric exhausts his orisons to heal the gravest of the ranger's injuries.

[Via Spontaneous Casting all of Perrato's 0 level spells are converted to Cure Minor Wounds for Hau'dn for 5 HP of healing.]

He then exhausts some more divine energy granted to him by his deity to draw the woodsman further back from the brink.

[01:39, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 9 using 1d8+4. Cure Light Wounds--Hau'dn]

Then turning to the complacently slumbering half-orc, Perrato nudges him, not caring much whether he wakes him or not. "Supongo que hiciste trabajo bueno para todos nosotros, Witzmacher." Again invoking Vagrani, the Palonard exhausts his remaining available divinely-granted energy into healing more of the wounds incurred by Totmacher, wishing that he could hold his nose while he did it.

[01:40, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 14 using 2d8+4. Cure Moderate Wounds--Totmacher.
01:40, Today: Perrato Viatomagne rolled 7 using 1d8+4. Cure Light Wounds--Totmacher. ]

With a blink and a gag, Perrato feels a wave of exhaustion come over him. "Amigos, I too must rest, if I am to be of much service to you before we continue our journey."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 07:07, Wed 18 May 2005.

With a heave of her wings, Malach leaps from her perch in the tree into the pre-dawn air, wings beating silently.  The owl wheels to the south, and is gone.  Villhalas receives the sense of flight over the darkened countryside, but only for a few moments.  Soon, his familiar has passed beyond the range of her mental link with the sorcerer.

Perrato, having brought Hau'dn back from death's door and expended the last of his healing spells on Totmacher, lays down tiredly and prepares to sleep away the last of the darkness.  While the priest had no further divine magicks left, addtional rest would allow him to perform his daily prayer rituals later in the morning, and receive the Mithran blessings for the day.

While Villhalas stands gazing through the darkness to the south, Asher paces, muscles still coiled tightly, willing himself to relax.  Totmacher, stinking and snoring, sleeps obliviously.  Caylin finishes bathing the worst of his wounds, casting a neutral glance at Perrato, and then begins to gather wood to start a fire and breakfast.

The time passes, and the eastern sky pales and begins to show an aurora of red and gold beyond the horizon.  Villhals relaxes as Malach comes back into his mental contact range.  As the rim of the sun sears into view across the eastern plains, the black silhouette of Malach is seen winging her way to the camp from the southeast.  Apparently, the horses had run far and hard, after the terrified manner of their kind, through the last of the hill country and down into the plains.  They had slowed and halted prior to sunrise, and Malach had turned back.  Villhalas' limited ability to communicate with his familiar makes it impossible to know exactly how far away their mounts were, but he gets the sense from Malach that she flew quite some distance in order to return to the camp.

OOC:  Plans?
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:23, Sat 21 May 2005.

Villhalas welcomes Mal'ach back by offering his shoulder for her to perch upon.   Well Done little one.  Rest now..

Resigning himself to the fact that their transportation is lost to them now, he adds with some resignation - "Well.  That's that I guess." - and moves off to help Caylin with Breakfast...

V

Villhalas goes to help Caylin with preparing the fire and a morning meal.  Totmacher and Perrato continue to sleep, and Asher sits and engages in a series of calming and strengthening meditations.  Malach flutters into a tree, her eyes growing heavy as the sun continues its climb into the morning sky.

Hau'dn, conscious but still quite wounded, lapses into a light sleep.  As the aromatic smoke from the fire of cottonwood branches rises into the air, Villhalas surveys the campsite.  It was clear to the sorcerer that they would not be moving anytime before nine bells or so...approximately three hours from now.  Caylin, cursing slightly at his wounds, begins to fry thick rashers of bacon in an old iron skillet.  The halfling pulls egg after egg from his rucksack, commenting to Villhalas, "'Tis th' last o' our fresh rations fer this stint, sorcerer--best t' have some'at o' a good breakfast now."  The halfling, on his haunches, looks over at the dead horses.  "We should cut some o' th' meat from yonder beasts--'twill serve well fer th' night's meal."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:28, Sat 21 May 2005.

Nodding in agreement, Vil responds to Caylin's suggesion - "Aye.  Sounds like a good job for Totmacher if you ask me..  Gotta protect the hands you know.." -  Vil adds with a smile as he raises his hands to chest height and deftly wiggles his fingers back and forth..

V

Asher raises his head and opens his eyes, feeling well-gounded and centered. "Let the stinking axe-weilder sleep. The only thing those gauntles are good for is tenderizing. I'll get the meat." With that, Asher crosses to Tot's large mount drawing his Kama.

Gripping the handle high in his right hand, and pinching the point between his left thumb and index finger, Asher weilds the blade like a draw knife, making a deep scooping inscision in the upper rear flank. Idealy this will yeild a large roast. He then lays this hide-side down on the grass and begins to peel away a lightly larger flap of hide which he uses to wrap the exposed meat of the roast.

Totmacher awakens as his senses are aroused by the smell of food...

Totmacher walks over to the Griffon, only the beak and some feathers help to distunguish it from some other mutilated beast.

Picking up what appears to be one of the hind legs.  Sniffing it, "Anyone know what Griffin tastes like?  Totmacher guesses a little bit like Elf!" then lets out a laugh and looks towards Vil.

Totmacher will then walk over to Caylin and Vil.  "Looks like you did not cook enough for the others, Halfling.  Totmacher likes to eat hard after playing hard you know."

Asher announces, rather pointedly, "I'm going to wash up a bit before we eat."

He slips the horse meat into a bag, wraps it tight and stuffs it in his ruksack, then heads for the creek.

Caylin barely looks up at Totmacher's approach and comment.  "This bit is fer all o' us, big man.  An' th' eggs and baccy come fra' me own kip, savvy?  So's unless ye've aught t' contribute, yer horse--or th' griffon-- is yonder, an' th' fire can be stirred up a bit t' roast up wha'e'er ye might be needin'."

The halfling leans back from his position tending the rashers of bacon, and begins to load his pipe.

Casting a devlish smirk in response to Totmacher's culinary comments, Vil simply adds - "Aye - I'll join you Asher.."

Asher has secured a good-sized portion of Totmacher's horse's haunch, storing it against the day that promises to be a hot one.  The chunk of muscle continues to bleed, and the monk realizes that this is likely to make a rather unpleasant mess stored in his backpack.  Perhaps allowing the mass of flesh to drain a bit...?

OOC: Point taken. Asher'll set the hunk o' flesh aside to bleed out.

Tot can take a hint--

Totmacher will break apart some Griffon limbs and wings and pile them up in preparations for travel.

"Anyone for breast meat?" Tot lets out another belly laugh.

Next, Totmacher will bury his head under his left arm and inhales deeply.  "Whew, guess it is about time that river be christened by Totmacher."  He then strips down and with Great Axe strung around his back will carry his Studded Leather down to the river and wash down both himself and his armor.

Asher listens quietly while the others debate whether or not to retrieve the horses. Once it appears that a resolution has been reached, Asher states, "My order has a saying, 'A dunce once searched for a fire with a lighted lantern. Had he known what fire was, he could have cooked his rice much sooner'." That said he nods, despite his doubt that this wisdom would conquer the materialism, or dogged pragmatism of his comrads.

Totmacher strolling up from his swim catches Asher's words of wisdom.

"So what you are saying is that your Order frequently dined on uncooked rice, eh Monk!?"  Totmacher then shakes his head a few times, places his hand against the side of each nose hole and clears his nasal passages.  His gaze then pauses on Asher in anticipation of a response.  "Eh...Monk?"

"Vil, what is the game plan for tracking the horses?  Standard Marching Order?  Are we going to try double time?  Caylin should be able to keep up on his pony."

"Something like that, wise Orc."

"Hmm..  good question Tot.  I like that overland double-diamond formation you had mentioned back in Borderton - maybe we should try that ~"     Vil ponders curiously.  "Also, we should be able to make up some time by double-timing it...  We can use Mal'ach here as our Eyes & Ears.  She should be rested here soon enough.--

At this, Vil looks over to Caylin, smiles and nods his head once briefly - "Hey there Caylin.  Healed up alright??  Think you can forgo some of the medicinal properties of that tobacco of yours while we travel today?  ..Can smell that stuff a mile away.." 

V

OOC:  Kev - can Mal'ach work on 4 hours rest.?? - until we get the horses anyway?  Also - do we still have a 'trained' tracker or no?

Jas

"'Tis travelin' wi' ye miscreants what keeps me bit o' pipeweed dwindlin' so fast.  An' I misremember ye takin' too great an interest in th' fracas wi' th' griffons, sorcerer--if'n we disturbed yer sleep, I'm sorry fer yer troubles," the halfling grumbles as he cleans the cooking gear and begins to stow his own equipment.  Pitching his voice a bit lower, Caylin adds, "How fares th' singin' ranger?  Is he well 'nough t' guide us, d'ye think?"

"hehe - no trouble at all Caylin."  Villhalas adds light-heartedly.

Looking over to the mortally wounded Ranger, Villhalas adds - "Aye... He took quite a beating back there.  I'm not sure he'll have the strength to continue on to be honest.  Perhaps it's best if we have him returned back to Borderton...  Should he make a full recovery down the road, perhaps our Paths may cross again.."

V

"Don't count me out just yet.  I can still travel.  And I can trace the passage of our horses...which may be important, eh? Hau'dn says with emphasis.  The ranger-bard, while wounded, still appears determined to journey with the party.