Quote from: Opaopajr;604347"If you had to say which of you two were the more experienced battle veteran, who would it be? And what talents do you feel you bring to our part of the group?"

With a genuine openness he requests, "If you could share your stories with us it will help us bond and learn how we can work together, as well as pass the long hours of road travel."

Aminda seated upon her donkey, Ol' Frisky, cranes her neck around towards Cudberct. "Battle veteran? M'lady is a noble of Wyverntongue and a trained warrior. I am just an old nanny and a midwife. We left home many years ago and when it comes to battle m'lady is much more experienced than I.

I doubt an old lady like me would have any interesting stories for you. I merely tend the camp and patch up the wounded their return. I doubt you'd be very interested in hearing how I prepare her meals. I'm not even a very good cook. Now back home we had such fine foods..." she continues rambling on about different dishes served at the feasts at the Wyverntongue's ancestral home as she and the caravan ride out of town.

Nodding while serious, Cudberct wears his listening face and punctuates a pause here or there with a "Mmhmm?," or "Hmm." Letting Aminda enjoy a rambling reminisce for awhile, Cudberct interrupts before she gets too lost, "Wow, what a time it must have been back home. Maybe you and Certh should work together and see if you can recreate a memorable dish or two."

Changing the subject, "But to go back to your experience in the field, if I may, was your camp ever attacked? I've heard the rules of nobility in other lands kept the fighting away from non-combatants, like encampments and nearby farmers. Unfortunately it's not a thing I'm too familiar with from my homeland; we went through some unpleasant times some years ago." Drawing this last bit into silence his eyes start to slip into staring off in space.

Shaking his head after an uncomfortable silence, he continues while looking away, "Sorry, a not-as-pleasant memory of home." Scratches his head, "Well, it's good to know with you and bright Hasor here we have learned hands to care for us in case we come to harm. But I'm also glad I brought a tower shield now." Looking brighter he beams to the group, "With cart and tower shield we can make nice barriers in case our camp's ever attacked. Keep these two safe in battle guys, they're our safeguard from lasting harm!"

"And how about you Gileus? You seem well armed. I expect you know more than a thing or two about those weapons. Probably can teach these guys a thing or two." now jerking his smiling head back teasingly to the rest of the militia crew, " That is if these guys ever shaped up and tried to pay attention to orders... Nah, I kid. They're good, they do OK."

Quote from: Opaopajr;604347"If you had to say which of you two were the more experienced battle veteran, who would it be? And what talents do you feel you bring to our part of the group?"

With a genuine openness he requests, "If you could share your stories with us it will help us bond and learn how we can work together, as well as pass the long hours of road travel."

"Battle veteran?  Oh, not I.  I'm more of a scholar than a warrior.  Of course, I have studied Dobringer's manual of the sword extensively, so I have some skill with a rapier.  As for stories, I'm afraid there are none of mine that you would find exciting.  It's not like I've fought the troll kings of Aginbarr or anything!  Although it's interesting; troll king is sort of a misnomer.  They don't inherit the title, rather gain it through combat prowess.  And they rule their land collectively, rather than partition it amongst themselves, so council of warriors might be a better title.  Of course..."  Gileus continues on the fascinating topic of troll society and history for as long as anyone's willing to listen.

OOC:  Hope it's ok if I make up little details like this.

SEQUENCE 3A: ON THE ROAD TO PARLEY
"The top of the gully is a sizable copse of trees, it might hide a wagon. I had the sense that our dear friend Cudberct had a mind to drive that damned wagon of his into the middle of the damned goblin camp, though." Winthrop is startled by the heat in his own words. Maybe the bickering of the morning had affected him more than he thought.

His attention -- and the attentions of the others -- are suddenly arrested, however, as the road turns southwest around a hill. Just beyond this bending, the road passes through the dragon circle surrounding Oakhurst. The horses carry them almost directly under one of the tall, imposing sarsens of gray-black rock that stand at least twice as tall as a man, each twisted into a half-turn as if the hard stone were only soft clay. These here are badly worn and weathered with age, but many of you have seen prouder specimens on which the draconic runes of an elder age can still be seen.

As the stone falls behind them, Winthrop surprisingly swings off his mount. "I don't suppose one of you would mind keeping an eye on Barnaby for a while? Don't worry, he'll follow you without much fuss, although I can't guarantee he won't bite. I have a mind to stretch my legs and maybe look for tracks our quarry might have left behind."

Haddon volunteers to watch Barnaby. The party has begun fragmenting alarmingly, but it seems Winthrop wishes some time to calm himself after the morning's unpleasantness. Haddon would frankly feeling hypocritical trying to stop him.

Sensing Haddon's unease, however, Winthrop smiles reassuringly as he swings down from Barnaby's saddle. "Don't worry, I won't go far." Winthrop proceeds to trot alongside the horses at a surprisingly quick pace, the rise and falls of the hills not bothering his experienced legs one bit as he ranges out at a distance of a hundred feet or so, occasionally stretching the distance to more despite the fast pace set by the riders.

As he travels, he watches for the tracks of the doomed expedition. Given the passage of time, he isn't expecting much and spends much of his time listening to Lady Jastian -- slowly sobering as the heat of the summer sun bakes away her hangover -- instructing the others in a sundry variety of matters: The shifting of bridle straps, the proper stowing of weapons, the tightening of armor rivets.

ROLL 4 + DIPLOMACY 21 = 25

It seems that whatever hurt feelings may have been formed on the green, Lady Jastian is successfully smoothing them away with each mile of road passed.

ROLL 15 + SURVIVAL 13 = 28

But around mid-morning, after clearing the immediate traffic of the farms near Oakhurst, Winthrop is suddenly gladdened: It quickly becomes clear that the further reaches of the Old Road are seldom, if ever used. Shortly thereafter, he picks up clear signs of a party of four riding horseback. It's not long before he's identified the distinctive notch in the edge of one of the horses' shoes. And given the regularity with which he's finding signs, he's fairly confident that he'll know if the previous party turned aside from the road.

But the rest of the morning passes with the trail staying true to the road. And, after a brief halting for lunch, that remains true through much of the early afternoon. As the sun begins westering, Winthrop puts on a burst of speed and is soon out of sight from the others. But after only a few minutes he returns.

"If we want to take the gulch, we'll turn aside before entering the treeline ahead and circle the forest line to the canyon. But the trail of Sir Braford and the rest continues down the road straight towards the broken bridge."


OOC: I didn't apply the -5 penalty for normal movement to Winthrop's Survival check for tracking because the encumbered horses are only slightly faster than you are when you're moving half speed.

OOC 2: I'll pick up with the cart group once this navigational choice is made by the parley group and the manifest is squared away.

Quote from: Tom;604490OOC:  Hope it's ok if I make up little details like this.

Go for it!

Winthrop looks at his companions. "It seems we have a choice to make. I had not expected to find these tracks, but now that I have, it seems foolish to travel on without at least determining our quarry's route. It might be worth a few hours time to simply follow them to the canyon before turning back to find the gully."

"Alternatively, I suppose Haddon could take his hound and that keen nose of his  to check on the tracks, while I lead the rest of you to the gully.  I'm not fond of the idea of splitting up, though."

"In fact, it may be best to delay first contact with this region's denizens until tomorrow anyways, as they are devils in the night.  I'd rather have the sun up when we treat with them. Taking a detour down the road might not be wasted time at all."

Cudberct looks glassy-eyed at Gileus while politely listening. He's clearly overwhelmed. He desperately tries to follow, but at some point gives up and smiles and nod in an effort to be friendly. As Gileus winds down, Cudberct looks desperately around to see who will rescue the conversation after that lecture.

(Gotta say something polite, gotta say something polite. Oh I wish Ermengilda was here, she'd know what to say! OK, give a compliment and refer Gileus to a like mind who can handle such big ideas. If we have everyone get to know each other, things will work out! Uh... compliment!)

"Wow, you sure are troll smart! I mean, uh, you know lots about those troll monsters. All I know is how to kill them when they try to hurt us." Smiles like he got the best idea ever!, "You should talk to Hasor! He's a really bright kid and he wants to know so much about the world outside Oakhurst." Leans on his horse to yell at Hasor on the other side of the cart, "Hey Hasor, get over here! You should talk to this Gileus fellow. He knows stuff like books and monsters and politics and stuff!"

Cudberct slows Buñuelo to ride parallel with the cart and nearest Maggie/Mika on the spare Warhorse. Hopefully Hasor and Certh will take the social hint to strike up a conversation with both Gileus and Aminda each. They seem like they have things in common. That and Cudberct needs to bring Maggie and Mika abreast of what's going on and then find out how they are doing.

Winthrop looks at his companions. "It seems we have a choice to make. I had not expected to find these tracks, but now that I have, it seems foolish to travel on without at least determining our quarry's route. It might be worth a few hours time to simply follow them to the canyon before turning back to find the gully."

"Alternatively, I suppose Haddon could take his hound and that keen nose of his  to check on the tracks, while I lead the rest of you to the gully.  I'm not fond of the idea of splitting up, though."

"In fact, it may be best to delay first contact with this region's denizens until tomorrow anyways, as they are devils in the night.  I'd rather have the sun up when we treat with them. Taking a detour down the road might not be wasted time at all."
"A few hours to discover their route now instead of a day or more wandering around the ravine trying to see where they went seems like a good use of time." Llewellyn offers, after taking a moment to think.  "If the tracks take us to the gulch, so much the better.  Otherwise, we will have to camp near the opening until the others arrive and make a decision."

Hasor was already listening intently to Gileus' story, and welcomes the opportunity to ride closer.

"I've always been fascinated by the world outside our little town. Life here is so isolated from everywhere else, it can be awfully stifling. That's why I'm trying to save up my wages, so that I can travel the lands and see what's really out there."

A wistful look passes over Hasor's face as he imagines all of the variety and color he knows must be out there.

"Of course, until then, I must quench my thirst with the tales the traders bring through, and those within Winthrop's books. I'd truly like to hear about all of the fantastical sights you've witnessed traveling with the Lady. Why do the trolls value strength over everything else? Surely they've seen what power the magical arts have... I can't believe they'd ignore them entirely..."

As the miles passed toward their objective, Lady Jastian grew more comfortable with her companions of the road.  She shared unlikely yarns of past adventures, her exaggerated tales making desperate struggles sound like youthful hijinks.  Still, the others could sense the noblewoman’s concern.  Her gaze remained alert and wary, even as she described an amusing encounter with a belligerent gnoll piemaker bent on adding human flesh to its dishes.  

 “I am but a newborn babe in these wilderlands,” (1) said Lady Jastian when Winthrop’s scouting brought him nearby. “’Tis like that I would soon lose all direction without your wise counsel.  Within moments of leaving the road, I would be sore bewildered, wandering lost and feckless until I emerged among the trackless wastes of the great desert.  Doubtless, devil-sent visions would haunt me among the sands, illusory taverners offering cool cups of pyment and minted sekanjabin.”

Between colorful anecdotes, Jastian asked her guides about the plants and game beasts of the region, even teasing a bit of information from the ordinarily-reticent Winthrop.  She shared what she had learned from previous battles against goblins (2), but had to admit that what she knew of the creatures' habits and culture came largely from the dusty histories in her father’s library and the chronicles of ancient warriors that she had eagerly devoured as a young girl.  The elvish tutor who had taught Jastian the goblins' language bore a nigh-superstitious fear of the things, merely reiterating the same midnight legends of night-skulking thieves that her father's retainers had already related. (3)  

ROLLS:

1.) ROLL 6 + (UNTRAINED) SURVIVAL -1 = 5
       (Yep, she has no clue in the wilderness…)

2.) ROLL 12 + (UNTRAINED) KNOWLEDGE (LOCAL) +2 = 14
       (Untrained: She only knows DC 10 knowledge about goblins.)

3.) ROLL 15 + KNOWLEDGE (HISTORY) +7 = 22
       (Jastain knows a great deal of historical trivia, such as the reasons for the bloody goblin revolt against Duke Launam 140 years ago, along with the infamous atrocities of hobgoblin warlord Rentanger and his shadow goblin troops.  It remains to be seen whether she knows anything relevant to the adventure…)

@Winthrop: "I hesitate to strike out on our own. Having found the tracks thanks to your expertise, it seems to me that following them is only relevant so as to find where they leave the road."

@Llewellyn: "Your analysis is sound to my ears, Sergeant. I think the additional hours well worth our time."

“Should we grow overeager to discover poor Sir Braford’s fate, we risk meeting it ourselves!  While lost the knight’s trail may lead us to find his party, ‘tis a more wary course to merely extrapolate the lost band’s route.   Let us dismount and lead our steeds.  We may then travel parallel along the path, using what cover we may find to hide our movements.  Thus we may discover any ambush or hidden snare that awaits travelers, yet not ourselves stumble upon such a hazard.”

Looking around, she asked "What think you of this stratagem?"

Winthrop shakes his head. "I don't see what good that would do. To the denizens of the wilderness, two men in armor with great warhorses stumbling through the underbrush is no more hidden than a company riding straight down the road. Besides, the goblins haunt the bottom of the gorge and the far side, not this side. And delaying too long might bring nightfall on us before we reach the cliff."

"I say we ride as a group to the end of this road, and see what the tracks say.  Then if the trail is lost, withdraw to here and camp for the night before trying the gully tomorrow."

Winthrop's argument carried little weight with the Lady.  "Winthrop, you assume too much.  'Tis known that the goblins keep to the depths and the far side of the gorge, but what cause have they?  Other, more puissant threats may bide nearby, ones of which we remain unaware.  Secondly, I know nothing of these goblins' leaders, but were I on their throne, I surely would secret away picquets on this side of the gorge, on watch for further sallies from the townsfolk or their allies.

"Also, whilst goblin-kin may lack the devil-spawned trapmasters of the kobolds, snares, javelin-launchers, and pits are not unknown to them.  Where else would they place such devices, if not on the road?  Where better to lay an ambush, if not that broad path?   Were I their leader, I would have larded the approaches to my domain with hidden bolt-holes and ambush points, nigh invisible to those approaching them.

"Finally, you have the advantage of seeing us as we are:  Few in number and ill-prepared to give chase through the trees and brambles of the wild.  The denizens of this place have not yet seen our approach:  they lack such sure knowledge.  Instead of seeing a tiny band arrogantly plunging into their territory, they would instead hear the movement of brush and the rattle of arms.  Our numbers and weaponry would remain a mystery until they close nigh unto weapons' reach, where they may be forced to offer battle, if such proves needful."

Gileus gives a small chuckle towards Cudberct.  "Sorry about that, I do tend to get carried away sometimes..."

He then turns toward Hasor.  "And I wouldn't say the troll kings completely ignore the arcane arts.  And, of course, they're not representative of all trolls.  Surely you've heard the legend of Asguala and her undead army?  No?  Well, she was a powerful troll sorceress who might have conquered the lands west of the Tildall mountains, had it not been for the valor of a small band of heroes..."  He goes on to tell the complete story, along with remarks on which parts are known to be historical fact and which parts are likely fictional.

Winthrop shrugs. "You are the leader, milady. It will be as you say. But if you don't want to be trapped in the woods at night, we should proceed with haste."

Taking Barnaby's lead he pushes into the undergrowth, experienced eyes scanning to pick out easy trails. He catches Haddon's eye and shakes his head slightly. City Folk.

OOC: I assume this will add to our travel time significantly. Is there any chance of getting back out of the woods before dusk? When would we arrive at the point the road meets the gorge?