Shorm welcomes the new day. He sits quietly, meditating.
The fight did leave him helpless and wounded.
Was it about his faith?
Did he wander off his given path?
He drifts away in prayer, closing out everything arond him, trusting
his new friends to watch over him.

Focus! Faith! Light thoughts!

He draws a heavy breath.
A new dawn, much to do, trying to keep his allies alive,
if not with his might in battle, he'll do it with his ability
to heal and save them.

"Best inn my arse..." mumbled to herself, clearly not happy with the accommodations. The sorceress got up and worked her stiff muscles and joints with a few select groans, indicating she was not taking the cold, hard floor in strides like the other companions. But eventually she seemed to be fine and joined the breakfast gathering. "We should move on, the quicker the better." Alysande told her new friends, "It will be warmer inside the caves and the sooner we complete the task of finding that man, the earlier we can get back to a soft bed to a nice and warm inn."

You continue westwards along the road, your approach disturbing a pair of wolves that were busy scavenging the dead horse still tied to the overturned wagon. They sprint off southwards towards the forest as soon as you come within sight. The scene of carnage is less spooky in daylight, but the tangled mess of the horse's corpse is also much more visible.

Continuing on your way, you have soon left it behind out of sight, and continue the advance upwards into the hills. The road gets a little steeper and narrower; and the air gets a little chillier as you climb. To your south, from this vantage, you can see the great forest stretching off for many miles.

After crossing a concerningly rickety-looking bridge over a swift-flowing river, the forest is soon lost to sight as jagged hills rise up on either side of you. As the afternoon draws on, clouds begin to gather once more; and it's eerily quiet up here in the hills, with barely a hint of a breeze.

The quiet is broken by the sound of a loud booming voice, echoing from up ahead, somewhere off to the left.

[Language unknown: "Hatentnce! Ntiionles ameas ounratove nti in iois ent ngsom tinio as?"]

The speaker is hidden from view by the rugged terrain, but from the volume, making no effort to conceal themselves.

"I'm afraid I don't speak Giant. Does anybody else?" asked Zed.

[Language unknown: "Et! o U evbeul ililth esil reastrratstr, one om Itur-reen asusou?"] Alysande shouted, lifting her arms in the air in a gesture that indicated no understanding. [Language unknown: "Fieau reming Ounkorain?"]

At the sound of Alysande's shouting, there is a grunt, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. Two enormous figures appear on the path ahead of you, stomping from around the corner. Each stands about 9 or 10 feet in height, boasts an enormous belly, and wears only a few scraps of dirty old furs over their bulky forms. The larger of the two, grasping a club the size of a man, gestures in your direction while barking something unintelligible to her comrade. He sniffs the air, taking a few steps towards you.

"Who you?" he asks in a heavily accented voice that doesn't seem to go lower than a shouting volume. "What smell?"

Shorm raises both arms, indicating that he is not armed.
"Just some weary travellers, my friend, the smell you noticed is probably that dead horse lying down the road.
It is ripe and ready to get eaten."

The hulking ogre takes a couple of steps forward, his protuding nose continuing to sniff the air. "Not horse. Smell.." he pauses, as if thinking for a moment. "Akhtlosh. He waves his club vaguely in the air. "Dead fing."

"Yes, dead fing." Alysande repeated. "We kill err... break dead fing. Dead fing, like, totally dead now!" she added, hoping to set the ogre's mind at ease.

ooc: Diplomacy 6. It probably was the ogre's pet.

Zed tries to think of something to say to improve Alysande's attempt at diplomatising with the Ogre but sadly he comes up empty.

OOC he also rolled a six

Bea sees the rest of the band taking a non-violent approach and leans on her polearm as a walking stick

"We can kill lots of dead fings, if dead fings are a problem?"

"These dead fing are really dangerous and a menace. To everybody"




12:30, Today: Shorm P'trak rolled 9 using 1d20+6 ((3)).

The ogre grunts and turns to his companion, conversing for a few moments in their language, before turning back to Shorm. "Where horse?"

"Down the road, just a short walk. Please, enjoy!"

He grunts and leans forwards, smiling through broken teeth as his pungent breath washes over Shorm. "If no horse, we come back. Eat you instead."

"[Language unknown: No o Tradsa. Ncng ndieis,]"

They pass you at a strolling pace, the larger female ogre giving an appraising look as she walks past. The two converse in loud voices as they stomp off down the road, apparently unconcerned at who might hear them.
This message was last updated by the GM at 07:41, Thu 19 Dec 2024.

Bea watched the ogres go, her gut an icy pain

"Do we . . . do we run now, do we keep going? Does anyone remember where the closest town or village is? Should we, warn them maybe? Two ogres is a lot of ogres."

"Nah, I think we are good, seemed to be friendly ... and hungry. If they are up for a fight we would be first to know."

Alysande nodded in agreement with Shorm, "I'm sure they knew we were no match for them, but we are armed and a lucky blow might cost one of them an eye. Easier to feed on something that doesn't fight back." the sorceress summarized her thoughts on the matter. "We should move on, the sooner we get our mission completed, the sooner we can escape mother nature's inn." she commented with a side-glance at Bea and a slight grin.

Continuing on through the hills as the sun begins to set in the sky to the west, you begin to notice displays set up by the side of the road to your right. Large wooden posts stand at awkward angles, largely covered in moss but with the faint traces of carvings still visible beneath. Several of them have nails hammered in to them, from a few of which still dangle skulls, human and animal.

The line of posts lead the eye naturally towards a large cave mouth, set some couple of hundred yards back from the edge of the road. One large, wooden door dangles from a rusty hinge hammered into the side of the cave, rotting and broken. A crude carving of a pig-snouted orc is just about visible on what remains of the door,  beneath a short message written in orcish runes.

"Very cozy, love what they done with the place.
I can't read orcish, anybody?
And any ideas how to enter?
Looks a bit like a mouse trap and we should be very cautious."

Zed frowns.  "So why do we want to put our paws on this particular mousetrap?"

"I don't speak Orcish either, but I doubt it is a friendly invitation for a cup of tea." the sorceress ventured a guess. "Zed, we decided to come here because it is believed Penny's husband came here with his band of adventurers." Alysande said. "So... do we go in?"

"Sadly no. Wasn't much call for orcish round where I grew up, and I didn't much look at languages. People understand the universal words and signs well enough."

Bea stepped forward, testing if her guisarme would fit the cave before walking in

"Nothing worth waiting for. I'll go first and we'll be careful"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Mon 23 Dec 2024.

"I'll be right behind you, giving you any support you need, Bea."

Zed sighs. "Wait, I'd better check for traps."

With that, Zed moved carefully into the cave, keeping his senses open for traps, ambushes, beasties and natural hazards.