~ The Dwarven Blockade: [Archive] [Home] [Previous Turn] [Next Turn] ~

On the way to Nikton Crayne is quiet for most of the journey. He is now angered by Emma and her stubborness. He was very much fearing that it was all getting out of hand and that Rinder's Six were beginning to split. It was now time to speak out. As the horses head on to Nikton Crayne suddenly speaks up.

"Stop here!" he says in a voice of authority, "I feel I must speak out my thoughts for they are troubling me!" he says as he jumps down from his horse with his Red Dragon staff in hand.

Emma reins in her horse and looks at the mage impatiently. 'What now?' she mentally wonders, 'More rhetoric from the Highbrow? What is his problem?'

Alara stops her horse as the rest of the party comes to a halt and turns her gaze towards Crayne as he jumps down from his horse. She slips down from her horse as Crayne begins speaking, and leans against the side of her horse.

Crayne moves in front of the group and addresses them. His face is angered and he trembles a little as he now faces the group front on. For a moment he is silenced as the group look a little astounded at Crayne's actions. "I fear I cannot go on as the group currently is! As an original member of the Six I have kept quiet now for a time and have tried to conform with what Rinder's Six has been doing. But I fear I can no longer do such a thing for I now believe that it is risking the lives of the group. You must not be offended here for we are all different and all have our own opinions. I now propose to offer you my own!"

Elloharin stares at the mage curiously. He sits his horse easily, eyeing the horizon for weather anomalies. He keeps his face blank during the mage's speech.

'You mean you propose to offer them again,' Emma thinks, holding back from rolling her eyes, but finding it very hard to not be offended by his constant speeches that are never meant to offend, but always do so regardless of his 'good' intentions. This was happening with enough frequency that she was beginning to doubt he even had any good intentions anymore.

"I grow tired of the group being led by the God of Anhur!" Crayne proclaims.

"WHAT?!?" the priestess gasps aloud, not because she can't believe the Highbrow doesn't swear allegiance to her god, but because she's amazed that he thinks something is forcing him to do so. Where had this come from? Her outburst is cut short, however, as Crayne continues his rant.

"We are not priests of Anhur by any means and I grow tired of acting in a manner which would be best by Anhur's standards. We are not fighting for Anhur we are fighting for the King! We are fighting against Caerloon. When we set out as Rinder's Six we were soldiers hired by Rinder to help aid them in the war effort. We were soldiers--no less no more--and that I believe we still are. Perhaps more skilled than we were, but that is what we are.

"Well I am doing everything possible to make sure that Rinder wins this war! That is why I am standing here! I am not standing here fighting for some religious justice that to me has a lot of ridiculous rules that apparently we must abide by. I grow tired of it!"

Storm stares confused at Crayne, wondering why he's taking the time to stop and talk when they have very pressing matters at hand; the caravan could be on its way at this very moment! But his curious stare turns to a look of pure admiration and agreement, his broad smile making that feeling more apparent. Storm nods with almost every word Crayne speaks, agreeing wholeheartedly with everything the intelligent mage says.

"When Edyrd was with us he never made us abide by all these Anhur's rules. He never told us to do that and do this and if you do this it is wrong and you'll be made to pay for it by the supreme god. He used to offer his opinion and that would be it! He never used to use this religious clap trap against us! We are soldiers in a war doing everything to defend the kingdom against the evil that is approaching! I wasn't going to say anything before but why should Towers have decided who was to be added to the Rinder's Six! Why is another priest of Anhur travelling with us and why is this lady Alara with us? Somebody who just attacked us in the street?! Also, I am astounded by the fact that when we recover this Ring of Fire that it should be placed in the hands of Anhur! I find that incredible! We are going to find the Ring for the Kingdom of Rinder and if anyone should have it, it should be the King, not the Temple of Anhur. I wouldn't be suprised if they go after the Ring of Water Control too! They have no right to put a claim on any of the Rings!"

Alara listens as Crayne speaks, though having just joined this group of adventurers she is hardly moved by his words. At the mention of her name, she lifts her head to look directly at Crayne. She fights back the urge to speak up, realizing that Crayne's comment is directed not at her, but at Towers.

"Now I must add my feelings on the current situation. I believe that we must take the men and these wagons as soon as possible and take them back to the city where the men can be safely guarded and the ore can be returned to who might have the most rightful claim to it. And no, that's not Anhur! Those I believe will be crucial witnesses! Delk can then see when interrogating them that the ore was meant for the drow. We can also question Jordice in front of Delk.

"Then I suggest we head out for the peak. To travel with some empty wagons across open land would be suicide and would take time! So, I suggest we head to where the drow are due to pick the ore up. I am more than sure that we can get this information out of Bernigan! I'm sorry but to approach the peak with empty wagons seems like suicide to me! Absolutely stupid. I can see why Delk would want such a thing! To kill some elves he would surely love! Remember! We are not here to fight the drow and even if we did it would be our downfall! For god sake! We've already fought only four of them and we only just survived that!

"Emma, you say it is only a small house! From what I've heard to be a house at all it a major achievement. Their society is very very harsh and I believe there will be some very powerful drow waiting for that ore. They will be more in number and will probably have more powerful soldiers within their group and they will be fighting in more suited conditions. If they see us trundling along with wagons that do not contain their ore then I'd expect they'd be extremely angry and I'm sorry but I am not going to fight these drow. It is unnecessary, and in my eyes, crazy!"

Crayne pauses for a breath. "Besides, if my assumption that they will be informed by Paros was correct, then we would really be in the shit! Also, Emma, this argument that you use for this to be currently our main focus. It is true but it weighs thin! Our primary focus is surely to help Rinder win the war! And what is more important? The recapturing of the Ring of Fire and the downfall of Paros or attacking some drow? For that, I fear, is the balance of scales at the moment! All we need to do is just provide enough evidence for the dwarves that the ore is going to the drow. If they even have the smallest inclination I am more than sure that they will follow it up and see for themselves. For the wagon to be heading westwards and the confessions of the men escorting the ore should be more than enough for our friend Delk here. I am sure it would be most embarrassing for them to find out that there ore is being delivered to evil vermin! The risk of such an embarrassment I am sure would make them investigate for themselves.

"To add to this we could go to the peak and I could cast my illusion spell just to bring the drow out. That would then surely be ample evidence for Delk! Then we can get out of there as quickly as possible without having to have a massive brawl with the drow where we would probably be outnumbered and out-skilled. We wouldn't be able to do much about Paros or the Ring of Fire then, would we?"

Crayne then concludes, "Those are my thoughts. I fear I have offended some here today! I can only apologise, but I feel I must say what I think! Rather now than some time in the future. If you are all happy to continue fighting within Anhur's guidelines then so be it and if you are happy to go fight the drow head on then again I will not judge you! But, I fear it may be the end of my time with Rinder's Six. I fear that I would have to depart and head off to fight alongside Dire in the war effort against Caerloon!"

Craynes nods his head. His eyes are saddened, that is easily seen. He looks about the group, especially to his friends Storm, Canter and Hannibal. He takes a swig from his water bottle and as he unscrews the cap his hands shake quite badly. Putting the cap back on he looks up again, "Please tell me if I speak out of turn and I'll be out of your sight as soon as possible!"

It takes every bit of self-control Emma can muster to not speak out at that moment. She notices Crayne looking fondly at the others, but certainly not at her. She dearly wants to berate the Highbrow then, but unlike him, she refuses to immediately do so in front of the Dwarven diplomat, Captain Delk. She quietly sits her horse and outwardly it almost seems like she never heard any of the rest of Crayne's speech. But, she can sense everyone's eyes on her. They all expect her to say something. But she doesn't meet any of their eyes, just chooses a spot on the hillside behind Crayne and stares at it.

Alara waits for a moment to see if anyone will speak up, but when it seems that the group has been shocked into silence she speaks up, her voice seeming unusually loud. "I for one do not want to see you go," she says. "My opinion may not matter much to you, but I believe you are an integral part of this group, as much as any of the rest of you," she says looking at the rest of the party. "It may not have been my idea to join this party, but as far as I can see you're all equally important, and if any of you were to leave it would be a great hole in the strength of the group."

Then, as if he hadn't heard Alara, Storm speaks, nodding toward Crayne. "Aye, me thinkin' the same. I signed up fer this with Nigel, not Towers. An' I be wonderin' why Towers be stickin' us with her instead o' Nigel doin' the stickin'." He pauses, then suddenly turns to Alara. "No offense to ye, mind ye." He looks at her with gentle (for a dwarf) eyes, honestly not meaning to offend her. He looks back to Crayne, about to say more, but his mouth simply opens and closes without a sound, and, after giving a quick look to Hannibal and Canter, he simply nods and smiles to Crayne.

When Crayne has stopped speaking and the others have said their piece, Elloharin states bluntly: "I do not believe in Anhur. I do not trust Towers, if a trusted official of the King's government can be a double agent, why can a high priest be not as well? I do not care about courts and justice in the eyes of the law. I care about more about personal honesty and character, than I do for ideals..."

Elloharin pauses for a moment, taking a breath. He avoids Emma's eye. "Moreover, I care about myself, mage. And if we should find ourselves against twenty or thirty teamsters and guard, I should think our humble group would have a problem. If the caravan can be taken quickly and easily, then I suggest we do it. Simply, because too much can go wrong between here and the Peak. However, if the odds are not in our favor, I believe that Skandor and Alara's strategy( he carefully omits mention of Emma,) of hit and run, would be safer. Especially for one such as yourself.

"However, should you choose to go, Mage Crayne, perhaps I shall go with you. A mage should not travel unguarded."

Through much of Crayne's speech, Skandor remained frozen atop his horse. His hand tensed, unseen, around the reins of his horse each time Crayne refers harshly to his own deity. But Skandor realizes that Crayne is obviously one of the most intelligent in the group, and every person, believer or not, has a right to their own opinion. He is about to speak in Emma's defense when Emma, herself, finally speaks.

Elloharin's suggestion that Crayne's departure is a very real possibility causes Emma to finally blink. She focuses back upon the wizard standing by his horse with his water-bottle in hand. There's a sinking feeling in her heart that there's nothing she can say to make him happy...and in the end, she fears that all of the camaraderie they worked so hard to build in her time with Rinder's Six is coming apart at the seams.

'He just doesn't make any sense,' she thinks to herself, 'Half the time, he's paranoid about everything...Paros, the Drow, and now Anhur's priesthood. The other half of the time, he's on a power-trip and oozing so much confidence in his magical abilities that it borders on being egotistical. And how did he conjure up these delusions about Rinder's Six being led by Anhur? That's not what he means...'

Finally, the priestess' thoughts are spoken aloud. Having taken the time to compose herself, she carefully keeps her voice low. She wants to stay rational rather than engaging in more heated arguments. If the Highbrow continues to reflect anger in his expression, then she will choose peace.

"Crayne, when you say you grow tired of the group being led by Anhur, you don't mean the god of my faith...you mean me, don't you?" she asks softly, yet bluntly, "It's not Towers' inclusion of Alara...it's not Skandor's appointment...it's me and my personal views about how we should conduct ourselves. And you think I'm trying to convert all of us into some Knighthood of Paladins, or something..."

The priestess shakes her head, sadly. "None of that is true. You imagine all of that. If anything, I've tried to encourage Rinder's Six to uphold the basic tenets of common decency. That's not just a requirement of Anhur for his priesthood. That's a requirement of our King for our countrymen. And you seem to have no problem being a good subject and soldier on behalf of your King. So why should you have a problem with acting like a decent, caring person as well?

"You bring up Edryd," she continues, her voice quavering as she remembers the Sword-Bearer and the wisdom he shared with her. In truth, the wizard's words about the paladin struck very deeply with Emma and they hurt, but she couldn't allow that to show right now. "You say he didn't force you to behave a certain way according to Anhur's rules. Who is forcing you to do that now? Me? Towers? Skandor? No. None of us are. I stopped trying to force you guys to do things according to Anhur's rules a long time ago...after I had a long talk with Edryd. Instead, like Skandor, I've merely tried to offer Anhur's wisdom regarding certain situations. That's no different than what Edryd did for you in the past. Is it the quoting of scripture that bothers you? Obviously, Edryd chose to phrase it differently sometimes, but I assure you all of the opinions he offered Rinder's Six were guided no less by his faith in Anhur.

"Does everyone else feel the same way?" she asks, looking around not so much at the new members of Rinder's Six, but rather the older ones, "Do you all resent me and my faith so much? Do you feel that Anhur's wisdom and guidance did nothing for our previous success?"

Skandor does not speak at this time, as he can tell Emma is far from done on the subject. He also feels, as she has indicated, that she is directing this particular set of questions more towards the veterans in the group. And, not being one of those, he chooses to remain silent for the moment.

"As for the Ring of Fire," Emma comments, changing the subject momentarily, "You believe it will be handed over to High Priest Towers. To me, that shows a complete lack of trust between you and me. But, I tell you here and now, Crayne, that I don't intend to turn it over to him."

Emma looks toward Skandor, knowing that declaration may not sit well with him. The Sword-Bearer's expression is hard to read.

Skandor does, indeed, remain completely stone-gazed through her last statement. He was warned that Emma's thinking and ways of doing things may not be totally...orthodox. But this? She would not hand over the Ring to her own church, her own superiors? Was not her caste the safest place to keep it, or anything of such importance? Why did Crayne--and worst of all, a Shield Maiden--not wish to deliver such an artifact to the one place where it would be best used?!

Perhaps, in their travels, Crayne, Emma, the rest, perhaps they have found reason not to trust totally in the priesthood? But...how...how could he possibly inquire about such charges? Should he just waltz up to Emma and ask, 'Lo there, are our superiors corrupt?'

He scolds himself for having any such doubt, and focuses back on the current brewing situation. He will, he decides, contemplate this in prayer.

Emma continues, "Not all members of the Caste of Anhur believe that we must achieve dominance over everyone and everything at any cost. If that's how you imagined us, Crayne, I would have you believe otherwise. I've spoken with some of my fellow priests and we favor that the rings be given to the other Castes or the King himself. I think personally, I'd prefer to give them to King Bryant, though I'll advise him that putting them in the hands of the other castes will go a long way toward shoring up the deteriorating relations among the religious Castes of Rinder.

"I'll make one more promise to you, Crayne," she says, "If the high priests of Anhur make a move to take the Ring of Water Control from your uncle, I'll stand by your side against them...though it might cost me my position within the Church to do so." The priestess eyes the wizard as if challenging his preconceptions about her.

Again, the sword bearer merely keeps a stony visage upon hearing her border-line contemptuous words. She would defy her own superiors, even if those superiors were carrying out the will of their god? Was her devotion to Rinder's Six becoming more important than the service to her deity? Was her loyalty to this group, most of whom have admitted that they do not even believe in Anhur, blinding her, leading her down the path of damnation?

Skandor decides that he will, indeed, speak to the Shield Maiden about these events...in private.

"But I still don't think this cuts to the heart of the matter," Emma says, "You've chosen to wrap your words up in anti-religious tones not because you have a problem with common decency, Alara and Skandor, or the rings. Instead, it's because you have a problem with my tactical advice on how to handle the situation ahead of us. The wagons of adamantine. The Drow. Paros. Those are the things that you really care about...and which you cannot find common ground with me. Is that not so?"

The priestess looks toward Captain Delk and apologizes, "I'm sorry. I know you grow tired of long speeches. Much like our friend, Storm, I'm sure that you must crave action more than philosophy. I was content to ride this problem out and bring you to Spiked Peak so you could see the Drow with your own eyes and confront them if you wish, but apparently Crayne is not...

"Our wishes in this situation do not matter as much as the Dwarves of Raimead...so I'll ask you plainly, good Captain," she says, "What would your people prefer once we encounter the caravan in Nickton? If Rinder's Six captures these men and takes them straight away to Parton, will you be content to interrogate them, seek out the Drow yourself, and consider our promise to your General fulfilled? Or do you wish us to accompany you to Spiked Peak, show you the Drow, and then slip away unnoticed? Or would you prefer to fight the evil elves once we contact them together?"

Delk looks to Emma, then scans the rest of the group, acutely aware of the tension in the air. "Me people won't be sellin' to no drow," he states. "An I don't want ta be near no drow without the rest of me army with me. I be satisfied with witnesses, and would take their words to me general. But at the same time, ye must know, I want ye Duke, Bryant, to hear thems witnesses. Fer we only be sellin' the ore back to him if he be renegotiatin' the treaty. And me thinks that hearin' them witnesses'll convince him. He be a good man."

Delk stops and draws a deep breath, allowing his words to sink in. Then he continues, "As fer how ye get yer witnesses, that be yer plannin'. But I be seein' ten of us includin' meself an him," Delk motions to Karelth, "and ye be talkin' 'bout twenty-five o' them. We may be best hittin' 'em once and pullin' back. Then hittin' 'em another time ta go in fer the kill..."

"I know Crayne seems incredibly frightened to face them again, but I can assure you that Rinder's Six is capable of the task," Emma affirms, "We've never run from a fight before, and although the last Drow that attacked us were formiddable foes, Anhur did favor us in battle enough for us to win. I know Crayne might not consider such divine assistance important, but I believe the fight certainly hinged upon the timely arrival of his servant. Even so, I believe Crayne's skills are an integral part of this group, regardless of what he might think of mine. I would like to see him assist us in such a confrontation with the Drow, because he and I both know our chances won't be as good without him..."

The priestess quietly regards the Dwarf, hoping that what she sees as Crayne's outward appearance of cowardice and dissension won't destroy his confidence in the group. Inwardly, she shakes her head, knowing that the Dwarven perception of Rinder's champions isn't going to be very favorable otherwise. Why did Crayne always choose moments like this to put his worst personality traits on display? Couldn't he have waited to pull everyone aside until they arrived in Nickton, and after Delk had retired for the evening?

Skandor takes a deep breath and says aloud, "Might I add something?" He feels only slightly uncomfortable when most of the eyes in the group fall upon him.

"I can not speak for Lady Alara, for even though she was assigned to the group at about the same time I was, her assignment and mine are totally different and unrelated. But I can say that I was assigned to protect the Shield Maiden, as your group has understandably attracted a lot of attention. Suspect of me, or my superiors, what you will...but given time, I believe that I will prove to you that I can be trusted."

Skandor turns his gaze to Storm. "As for your notes concerning Nigel, Sir Storm. Nigel, of course, is not in a position at this time to assign or affect your group in any manner, so Towers has taken that responsibility for the time being, at least until the blockade is over. It has been explained to me that Towers has that right and authority. That is my simple understanding of that situation.

"And furthermore, Anhur does not lead this group... you do, each of you, with your own voice. I have only been with the group a short time, but I have not yet heard any of us try to force you to believe a certain way, or to live by anyone's beliefs, ideals, or 'rules'. As friend Ellhoharin has stated, he has his own, as I am sure each of you do.

"Wisdom spoken from the Scrolls is just that: Wisdom, and nothing more. It is merely advice, but advice that should be well-considered."

Skandor then turns his horse so that he might face Alara and Elloharin. "I agree with both of them, as their words are similar. We are not an army, at least not in the battlefield sense. Therefore, each person in our warband plays an even more important role. Each of us must be able to do our part, to contribute to the cause, to succeed in our mission. Imagine, if you will, a large fishing net...each of the men in a large army are a link in that net. If one of those men fails in their task, a tiny hole is present, but only the smallest of fish might escape. But with us," Skandor says, motioning around him, "Our links in that net are much larger, simply because there are fewer bodies to rely upon. If one of the links in our net is gone," Skandor pauses, turning now to look at Crayne, "Then the larger fish will surely escape. And in this case, Bernigan is one very large fish."

Skandor pauses, almost blushing at comparing Bernigan to a fish, but then again, the analogy is the point he was trying to make, and those gathered here, he knew, were smart enough to see that. "As I have read in the Scrolls, 'A force divided is a force more easily defeated'" He then ushers his horse quite easily over parallel to Crayne's and extends a hand down to the mage, in a friendly offer to assist him back up onto his horse. "Do not let us be divided, Master Crayne."

Emma nods as well, having listened closely to Captain Delk, but also the Sword-Bearer. It seems as though the paladins of Anhur are always bailing her out with their wisdom. She looks at Crayne and Skandor's offered hand. "I agree, Crayne," she says, "And I'm sorry for my harsh words. As you told us before, perhaps we plan too far ahead. For now, why don't we put aside this argument and wait to see if a new plan presents itself after we've encountered the caravan?"

She gestures toward Captain Delk and says, "If our Dwarven friend believes a head-on assault of Bernigan and his men is unwise, then let's plan on multiple attacks. Hopefully, we can wear them down long before we get to Spiked Peak. Then, if it makes more sense to take the wagons to Parton and interrogate the men, we can do that, too. We'll make a better decision once we've overcome them and measure the distance between both points. I happen to think a Drow head will go a lot further at convincing the Dwarves than just Bernigan's confession, but we'll see if more is needed after we meet with Sir Duke Bryant and eventually General Korg."

She regards the Highbrow hopefully. "Will that be enough to keep you with us? Please?" she quietly asks.

Crayne nods and gives a sigh of relief. He was undoubtedly very close to leaving Rinder's Six. He is still shaking as he stands there facing Emma, Priestess of Anhur. Perhaps things would never be the same between the two of them again. He also feels a bout of guilt and pain as he sees Emma standing there sullen. As she asks him the final question Crayne bows his head and swallows hard. "I will stay with you Rinder's Six!"

He then turns to Emma and looks directly at her. "I am sorry, Emma. I feel I had to take these steps to get my message through to you. You must know I only wish the best for Rinder's Six. I care for all of you and I felt I couldn't let us go and face the drow. I felt it was just too dangerous and the only way it seemed I could get my point across was by threatening to leave. You must believe me when I tell you that everything I try to do is for the sake of keeping Rinder's Six alive! Ok, you may envisage parts of me that involve greed or stubborness, but you must know that the thing that matters to me most is for Rinder to win this war. I just hope we can all learn from this and benefit from it in the future!" Crayne moves to Emma and touches her on the shoulder for a moment.

Emma holds still and allows Crayne to touch her. Though she appears to smile outwardly, the mage can tell by the stiffness of her body beneath his hand that there's a lot of emotion still coursing through her. Anger? Sadness? Joy? It's hard to tell. She doesn't say anything, but just looks quietly at him until he's satisfied and ready to continue their journey to Nickton.

He then turns and jumps back on his horse. "Let us move on!"

The priestess puts the spurs to her own mount and quickly rides out front, purposefully staying ahead of everyone else. Along the way, she finally begins to quietly cry, but keeps herself tall in the saddle so no one will notice. Eventually the cool weather and soft wind dry the tears so that there's little trace of them left. But for a long, long while she looks out across the empty road in front of her as she rides and imagines that she's alone. The feeling seems to echo the emptiness in her heart.

Later, they enter the tavern. Elloharin first orders a glass of water and begins to sip it as Alara enjoys the bard's music. Emma sits quietly near Alara, also listening to the music. Her thoughts had been in turmoil ever since the confrontation with Crayne on the road. At least the bard helps to ease some of that tension...and a skillful musician, he seems. So much so that the priestess is moved to contribute a coin to the man...a golden Crown, no less.

She smiles timidly and perhaps a bit sadly, saying, "Thank you. Another, if you've the time...something epic...and sad." Then, she returns to her seat and loses herself in the music, hardly noticing Crayne's uncle approaching with some drinks.

Alara nearly laughs at Emma's comment, she leans over to the priestess and whisper, "I've often found that asking a bard if he has time for another song is like asking a fish if it has time to swim." She smiles widely, looking towards Skandor, remembering his comment earlier on the road about catching fish.

"Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: Today he puts forth The tender leaves of hope; tomorrow blossoms, And bears his blushing honours thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do..."

Karelth brings a round of drink to the table, a concoction of rum which warms the stomach on these cold nights. Alara takes one of the mugs from Karleth and smiles, saying simply, "Thank you," before she takes a long swig of the rum.

"This many summers in a sea of glory; But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me Weary, and old with service. Vain pomp, and glory of this world, I hate ye. O how wretched is that poor man, That hangs on princes favours! And when he falls, he falls like Ottoron, Never to hope again."

Storm stretches and lazily plops one of his dirty boots on the table, drinking half of his rum in one gulp. Then Elloharin hears the altercation between the bartender and the leatherclad individual, and he rises smoothly to his feet and goes to the bar.

Emma's attention is finally roused when she sees Elloharin making his way toward the bar. 'Another confrontation,' she thinks to herself, meaning the bartender and his troublesome customer rather than Elloharin. She completely missed most of the conversation, but her intuition and the elf's posture tells her that something must be wrong. She sits a bit straighter in her chair and glances around the inn to see if the man might have friends ready to come to his assistance. Hopefully, Elloharin could keep the man civil while he found out what was troubling him.

Skandor also sits quietly, not far from Emma. He thanks Karelth for the drink politely, but himself does not drink. He twists and turns the cup in his hands as his attention is on Emma. He sees the almost stunned look on her face, almost sad appearance to her features. The discussion on the road to Nickton took its toll on her, and even if outside appearances might be deceiving, he knows that she was going through some inner turmoil right now. Out of respect, he does not press her to confide in him, or discuss the matter with him. He merely sits quietly nearby, a few chairs away perhaps, in case she feels the need to talk.

Alara turns her gaze towards the bar when she hears the barkeep react to the leatherclad man's threat. Her hand trails towards the hilt of her sword...she stops herself before actually touching the sword through, careful not to draw any unwanted attention from any who could be with the man at the bar. She rests her hand on her thigh, ready to draw her sword if the need should arise.

Elloharin leans against the bar, and smiles at the barkeep. Turning to the offending leathered warrior, he says loudly, so that the entire room might hear the conversation, "You seem mighty interested in bovinity, my friend."

The leathered warrior turns his head slowly to look directly at Elloharin. "What's it to you--Elf?"

"You're pretty well armored for a farmer, eh?" Elloharin continues. "What be the occaision for your desperate need for cattle?"

Skandor's ears hear the conversation at the bar, and his eyes follow Elloharin up to the man inquiring about cows. He listens as Elloharin poses his questions to the armored man. His senses do not tell him that there should be any danger, not in public, in a tavern no less. But his eyes watch the man closely, his hand within a foot of his own blade, ready to leap to Elloharin's aid should the elf be assaulted in some way.

"My occasion is none of yer business. Keep yer pointed ears to yerself." The warrior does not move in a hostile manner, despite his charged words. The bartender is frozen in his tracks, not wanting to even move, lest he inflame the situation more.

"I might know where you can get some cows...it will cost you though." Elloharin takes this whole intercourse in stride. He realizes how ridiculous he must sound, and is fighting to keep a smile off his face. For all he knows, the word "cow" might represent something entirely different to these two men! El tries to seem relaxed, yet he is very much ready for action.

The warror tilts his head, narrowing his eyes. "You got cows? I don't think I want yer cows..." his eyes follow El's tracks, leading back to the table near the bard. His eyes fall upon Alara, who at that moment brushes a strand of hair back, behind her elven ear. "Unless yer talkin' about yer girl..." A smile crosses the warrior's lips, but his expression quickly returns to its stern visage when he sees Canter rise from his seat at the same table.

Noting the crossbow hanging from Canter's belt as he approaches the bar, the warrior readjusts his armor and turns his head back toward Elloharin. "Fine, elf. I want three cows fer me and my men. We got a camp outside town, north-east. I'll pay you 20 golders fer the three. Deal?"

Thinking that there were no cows to be sold, and that he didn't want to push his luck, El quickly agrees.

"Bring 'em tonight...say, three hours, to the camp. Just you...and yer elf-girl," the warrior smiles. "If I don't see no cows, you're gonna have a problem. And if I see more of you than just three cows and two elves, yer all gonna have problems."

With that, the armor-clad warrior places his glass on the bar, flips a silver to the barkeep and walks out of the tavern. Skandor and Alara breathe a collective sigh of relief, though Alara is a bit put off by the warrior's comments.

"Did you hear him?" El says, whispering as he returns to the table. "Him and his men. Do you think?"

"It would seem so," Crayne offers with a nod. "That we've found our caravan."

Hannibal smiles, patting El on the shoulder. "And you've gotten them to unwittingly reveal the location of their camp!"

"Now what we need to do is figure out our next move," Skandor states. He casts a glance toward Emma, looking for her support. This would be the time for her to speak. But she isn't paying attention. Instead, she sits on her chair, its back facing the table, watching and listening to the bard. Glass of rum in hand (nearly empty, too), she is swaying back and forth as she hums to the sad tune, a glazed look on her face.

Drawing a deep breath, Skandor continues. He looks directly at Elloharin. "There is no way we're letting you go there alone, you know that."

Canter and Hannibal nod, supporting Skandor. Elloharin smiles, "What, you think I couldn't handle twenty five armed and armored men on my own?" Then, after a chuckle, the elven fighter-mage leans forward toward the table. "Good. Come with and maybe we can strike 'em while they've got their guard down. Besides, I've been lookin' to use this new bow. Though it's not my favored long-type, I think it'll do for tonight." He pats his new bow, resting against the side of his chair.

"Emma?" Skandor asks, gently giving the aloof priestess a nudge.

"Mmm?" she responds, turning her head very slowly toward the Sword Bearer while humming the tune. "Isn't it <hiccup!> beautiful?"

A few hours later, the party is hiking out of the town, headed north-east. For a while Karelth is nervous, as he cannot see the telltale signs of an army camp: the tents, the large fires, spits for cooking, and roudy soldiers. But soon enough the camp does, indeed come into view.

First it is the amber hue of the large bonfire. It's rays illuminate the seven large canvas tents arranged in a large semicircle around the bonfire and to the west. Across from the tents, on the east side of the fire, are the wagons, arranged parallel, within sight of the entire camp, and covered in dark canvas. There are three wagons in total. On the outskirts are the horses, tied to hitching posts behind the wagons and sipping from a nearby stream. The terrain around the area is grassy, with most of the grass and brush waist-high (on a human) at most. There are a few large boulders directly south of the camp.

Nearest to the fire are the men. From their current position (kneeling in the grass, about fifty yards from the camp, so far undiscovered), the party cannot yet count how many, but they can hear the voices, and it seems from the sound that the number of twenty-five would be accurate. The night is dark, with some heavy cloud-cover eliminating any moonlight or starlight. The only light source, in fact, is the large bonfire in the center.

1. Okay, as per the agreement, Canter, Crayne, Elloharin, Emma, Hannibal, and Storm may each add 33gp their CIS. This is the money divided (presumably sometime after the scene in the tavern with the armor-clad warrior but before setting off for the caravan's camp) from the two sacks of gold discovered in the abandoned ship.

2. As per our agreement, Elloharin purchased a short bow upon arrival in Nickton around dusk. Please add the short bow to your CIS and subtract 30 gp.

3. FYI: The bard's poems that appear in this turn and in the previous turn are actually a slightly modified Shakespeare--there's no way I can come up with poetry that good on my own!

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