Haazheel Thorn:
Haazheel ducks back and reloads the crossbow.
Haazheel reloads, but it seems that, for the moment, the danger has passed.
Averdante:
A new arrow ready on the string, Averdante takes a careful look around, alert for any sign of further threat. The ogres seem to be done for, but he'd rather be safe than unpleasantly surprised.
Once satisfied that things are as safe as they can be out here, he rides over to check on Preet. After the blows the stone cat took, Dante expects he'd like to ride for a while. Then perhaps he'd best ask Sir Aberlayne what needs to be done for Mask's injuries.
Averdante hears and sees nothing untoward in the forest now.
Prreet is still up in the tree, but when Mask and Averdante ride up, Prreet shrinks back down to housecat size and hops on the back of Mask's saddle. There are some chips out of Prreet's coat, and he licks them in aggravation.
Bruenor Sedricson:
Bruenor lets out a shout as the female ogre goes down...perhaps influenced by Demon's 'enthusiasm'. He reins Demon around as he looks side to side, checking for any additional threats.
Seeing none, he quickly dismounts...wipes his sword on the fallen ogre...and sheathes it; never letting go of the reins. He hoped they'd get there, but the horse was still a bit too wild to trust completely loose.
He reaches into his pack and pulls out another piece of jerky, offering it up to the black stallion. Leaning in close, he says, "Well done, Demon, well done. You're a warrior, aren't you, mate? We'll be alright, you and I," thumping the horse's thick neck.
Bruenor climbs back into the saddle, listens to the others, and says, "As you say, Lantamori. Our job is protecting this caravan...not hunting and exterminating ogre clans. I say we let them go if there are any more. If they attack us, they're our problem. If not, they're someone else's."
It takes every bit of Bruenor's persuasion to get Demon to pack away from his "kill", as he looks like he'd like to take a bite or two out the ogre. By dint of some jerky, Bruenor can redirect Demon's hunger, and earns himself a through snuffle of his hair.
Further up the caravan, Lantamori and Narthian consider looking for the ogres' lair. As they discuss, Sir Aberlayne comes thundering out of the woods. The horse the female ogre had been using as a greatclub is still screaming, her body as bruised and broken as the stone cat's. Master Deyna, Gav, Maris, Luth, and Keevak, along with half the drivers, are off getting the horse herd under control, but Reetha comes forward to try to calm the thrashing beast.
"
Here!" she shouts, tossing a golden potion at the caravan cook, "
Use this!" Reetha pours the potion down the horse's throat, and most of her wounds close over. The screaming stops, and the horse whickers uneasily as Reetha strokes her mane. Sir Aberlayne reins up Valiant and drops down to the ground, looking up at the others.
Volsh is letting go of the rage of his kin, leaning on Widowmaker, exhausted and still badly wounded. Averdante, Mask, Lantamori, and Farian are lightly scorched.
"
Farian? I have a little of Yondalla's strength left within me, so any aid Pelor's rays could give these wounded warriors would be welcome!"
---
Dellas Nump:
Dellas grumbles and is rather quiet for some time, he makes his way to Honeybee before mounting her and riding towards the magic Ogre, checking it for anything unusual... for him a magic ogre is unusual enough to warrant a search.
Not sure where everyone is but Dellas has to take a look at this strange ogre
Farian Raymellie:
That last hit was a solid one, and he smiled as the ogre fell to the ground. Slowly the smile fades as he looks around at his companions. He sees Dellas come closer to the ogre, stands and walks over to him.
"An unusual sight is it not? One would not have thought they were capable."
He notices Dellas examining the ogre and is also intrigued. He, too, examines the ogre.
The ogre magician was wearing foul-smelling robes and a wild assortment of "talismans", mostly bits of wood and stone, bone and feather that held some personal significance to him. In a crude beltpouch he carries two dried gourds corked with bone and dried fungus that have some liquid in them. And from the talismans wrapped around the gourds, it's not liquor. Likely it's something magical. Dellas, from carefully examining them, taking a look at a drop, and doing a tiny taste-test, can determine that one will create a temporary armor over one's body, and the other will allow you to jump inhuman distances. He was also carrying a simple clay manniken, maybe six inches long, that holds small live bluebird trapped inside.
Bruenor Sedricson:
"Right, then. Let's get that tree moved off the road. Who's got some rope? We can hook the horses up and pull it off."
Bruenor casts a concerned look at Volsh. "You feeling up to any more work? I thought you and that ogre were going to pull each other into the abyss."
Volsh breathes a few times, as if testing that he still can. "
No cowardly scum like that would be able to take me," he says, a hand over his middle against the dreadful spear wound, barely closed over with Sir Aberlayne's divine blessing. "
Give me a moment's pause, and I will help you."
Haazheel Thorn:
Haazheel helps round up and organize, following any directions. He yells out "When you get to the corpses, I'd like my bolts back, please." Then he helps with the tree.
In about an hour, the horses are brought back under control by Gav and Maris, along with the others in the caravan. It takes another couple of hours with axes to chop the tree into chunks that even teams of horses can move, but there are plenty of willing hands.
--
Narthian Goldleaf:
Narthian nods at Lantamori. "Of course. I never intended for us all to go, just a scout or two. I suggest some help clear the tree from the road. I'll likely be back before that chores is done." Once Thunder has the scent, the pair of hunters head out, trying to follow the ogres' trail back to their camp or lair.
Narthian will spend no more than an hour on the ogre trail. If there is no sign of a camp or lair in that time, he will head back to the road to catch up with the caravan.
Narthian and Thunder backtrack the ogres' trail, finding that the female ogre had been closest. A half-mile or so distant in the wood, atop a small rise that gives some glimpses of further up the road, there is a tangle of large boulders "improved" with a few smelly, badly-tanned hides to make a shelter. A stinking firepit still smokes slightly, and bones from the ogres' meals are scattered about. Searching the place, Narthian is able to scrape together about 2000gp in various coins and gems, either ground in the dirt, in scattered beltpouches, or even, well, in the midden heap. It is a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. You find three small barrels of wine, with a fourth with the head staved in and mostly empty. There's also a small stone pot of silversheen, a slender metal wand of iron that had been being used as an eating stick (arcane
protection from evil, 23 charges), and a red glass goblet so large that it could have been used to bathe an infant. Or at least a large puppy.
Narthain can return in good time to aid in the log-tying and hauling to get things ready for their continuing journey.