[IC] D&D 5e - Hoard of the Dragon Queen

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

It took little rousing beyond the touch of pure primal nature to bring the wounded man to and it took even less convincing from the blade bearing warrior-healer to stand him to his feet. At first, arm draped about the shoulder of the stranger, the man hobbled himself on one foot in pride but succumb to the numbing pain of his injured foot. Whatever had been torn asunder and broken in it was, now by otherworldly means, redeemed into one but that did little to ease what lingering, dull injuries persisted. To call them a point of soreness was to say it in the most mundane of ways, but the guardsmen bit his tongue and allowed himself to be walked into the den of the dying.

The air was sickly, offensive in its own right with caked, old blood and the general malaise of those who were too doomed to recover from the wounds they sustained - incense or not, albeit its attempts to thwart this place's ambiance were keenly noted. It was not for lack of trying at that, evident to the outlander as he poured over them and their company with his eyes. The wounded man leaning against the other warrior's heavy frame as support worked his hands to the stone wall and helped himself to sitting in a corner, removing his coif and undoing pieces of his armor. The guard's breathless thanks was more than the huntsman needed, but Brannor granted a stern yet approving nod before withdrawing. Turning with a slide on the chalky stone floor in his traveled leather boots, he noted the dwarf at work.

It was not far off he could see the man-orc leaving either, wandering about with a dry rag and dapping away the stains of his injuries. There would be time to cleanse himself of his blood, more so the foul attackers' blood and how it stained him; here, in this city now ablaze, was not the time or place. It pained him to be so cut off from his source, both externally and internally. How it wished to be more forward - how much more it could do in this hour.

"Were you here when these vermin set upon the city, dwarf?" Brannor asked plainly, adjusting his armor to look over the now well healed dagger wounds and the scar upon his neck.

@Raijinslayer@Hekazu

[Phoenix]

Each tick made a list of objects that could make such a noise. The echoes were a reminder that cement was all around. Voices faded into vibrations - unintelligible and vague. Thuds became foreign intrusions that shook up from the floor. The slightest air movement was swimming on the skin. The structure creaked and shifted from the stress within and the fluidity below.
Brother Dreel.
Skin buzzed from the energy of the magical and mundane. Hairs shifted and felt like flies crawling over the body.
Brother Waladra.
Air ricocheted in the ears. The cacophony of hubbub faded to static. It ebbed and screamed in his head.
Bloody bandages.
Bones against wood began to pinch.
Shallow breathing.
Toes lacked blood flow and were pierced with pins.
Fire.
An arching spine struggled to support the torso.
Boom!
Red light covered pupils temporarily blind.
Debris.
The voice scratched his brain with sharp nails.
Fingers tearing.
Muscles twitched awake and skin began to itch.
Unconscious...blood.
Ramando's fingers spasmed to life. It might have only been a few moments, but pure meditation was always exceedingly difficult for him. His consciousness never seemed to fully rest and his subconscious was too deep to reach. It didn't matter much the length of pure consciousness lasted, as long as it was achieved. Ramando blinked his lids slowly in order to reactivate his eyes. It took a few moments for his body to follow and support itself to stand.
The garb looked stiff as it swung gently on the line. The cloth was coarse to the touch, indicating they must be dry enough to wear without developing a rash. Ramando took his time wrapping himself in the cloth to regain a modest appearance, that is, as modest as his particular style allowed. The monistery didn't have many options for one of his size. There were no tailors or seamstresses to design anything that could fit him properly. So he used bolts of fabric and capitalized on wrapping his body to feign some kind of monk-like decorum.
There was an odd air in the Keep, now. Perhaps it had something to do with the visitors - heroes? Some of them had found their way to the infirmary. It seemed the man in metal was as large as he seemed from up here, when Ramando had first sighted the party. The green man was looking around, clearly confused. Ramando didn't have much in the way of hospitality considering his Brother's condition.
Ramando made sure to keep his head as low as he could, in an effort to keep from gawks and stares. His chest was still above most individual's heads, but his hushed feet and agile steps made sure he wouldn't pass by anyone too slowly or clumsily to be an even greater distraction. He managed to sneak up behind Brother Dreel and surprise him.

Hider

Stealth - 9

"Oh, Brother Brightwood!" the boy screeched quietly. "You're back - and looking much better," he added with a large smile.
"You can go back to the others. I'll look over him." Ramando's tone was flat, almost sharp. It was still low enough to fill the entire space yet fade into the stone walls. But the boy knew when he was attempting to be considerate.
"No," Brother Dreel said and shook his head. He stood up and raised his hand to slap it onto the giant's shoulder. "You go get some rest. You've been here for hours."
The boy didn't allow for any argument on the matter and simply pointed to the stairs ascending further up the keep.

[Raijinslayer]

What an odd bird. . . Hurrik stared after the half-orc as he left, wondering if he had been knocked in the head one too many times a a child. Rising from his seat, he was about to get back to work fighting off the specter of death when he was approached by another of the strangers. This one was human, clad in heavy armor and with golden eyes like that of a wolf. The man's question was met with silence at first, not due to an unwillingness to answer, but more due to the dwarf taking a moment to crack his neck and knuckles. This was followed by a small draught from a water skin, refreshing his slightly parched throat as well as easing it for the task of speaking, a task that seemed like was becoming frustratingly prevalent.

"Aye. . . came from a nearby forest to warn the governor of a truly disturbing sight. An entire flight of black dragons had soared over my home, loud as a thunderstorm, and seemed to be heading in the direction of this town." A pause was taken as the dwarf took another swig of his water to ease his gravelly throat, coughing a bit as some liquid went down the wrong pipe. "*cough**cough* Ugh . . . I saw them. I came here as quickly as I could. Obviously, it wasn't fast enough. Now I sit here, do what I can, and wonder why there is only one of those black devils in the sky right now. And why it has yet to tear this keep apart."

@Lucius Cypher
@The Harbinger of Ferocity
@Phoenix

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

Searching for a moment in thought, as worn as he was, the man took in a long, low breath. In it, he drown out the worst of the senses he experienced in the odor of this musty tomb to be, choosing instead only to focus upon the failing floral incense. This pause, the rise and fall in his armored chest as he examined the remainder of his mostly healed wounds, was enough to remind him what must be done - how the enemy still lurked at the gates. Having heard clearly the dwarf's insight, he nodded just as quietly at first but soon replied as he withdrew his inspection of injury.

"These dragons and their pathetic entourage have wrecked enough havoc on this evening. If you have a healer, we require their curative touch."

Brannor adjusted the leather of his harness, its straps jingling lightly at their metal rings against his worn chain armor as he then neared a bowl with several crude wooden cups beside it. The water, clear as it was, would suffice for drinking and wounds, but it had other properties and uses as well; some of which were more a matter of spirit and less a matter of flesh. As with any beast, careful to partake, his eyes shifted back to the dwarf briefly.

Effect

Brannor's passive Perception of 13 detects Ramando's Stealth check of 9.

A great figure moved silently in the dull ambiance, not far from the man or dwarf; a shadow in the few orange points of candlelight, but no match for eyes fond of night. It was certainly no kobold, that much he could discern before it vanished again, but even he seemed small in its presence. Whatever it was, as it then disappeared elsewhere into the infirmary, did not seemed to raise alarm. Brannor's stare broken, he looked back to the dwarf as he filled the empty cup with water - avoiding tainting it with his bloodied gloves.

"More than anything however, we could use others."

He insinuated directly to the dwarf, decorated in his furs and so obviously out of place as was he. Here and now though, he drank quietly as well, with his back squared firmly to the keep's wall. Not long after he finished, his thirst far from sated in truth, he spent the tiny remainder upon the wrapping of his cloak about his neck, wetting the worn green material. Carefully the cup was set aside and his hands worked the silver medallion upon his neck, running over the tiger's fearsome visage with the damp cloth.

With its luster returned... so did his; a glint of that same vein in his own eyes.

"If you are not free to join us, or any others you might have, we will be on our way soon to deal with these matters with our band alone."

@Hekazu@Phoenix@Raijinslayer

[Hekazu]

A soldier dressed in ringmail armour rushed in through the infirmary doorway, first in the long time to be uninjured themselves and not be carrying anyone else. The man stopped as soon as they could see well into the room and sprang into attention. They lifted a message they were carrying onto eye level, so that they could see it through the eyeslit of their helmet and coughed a few times. One of the keeps own infirmary workers sighed and shook their head in silence as the soldier's voice boomed in the room:

"Atteeeeeeeen-tion! As per orders of Governor Nighthill, the people that accompanied a certain Trear Oakfell into the keep, called Ashkar Brannor, Orchid and Parum, are to report onto the battlements to governor himself. Pass the message on and if it is of concern to you, do not keep the man waiting!" With that, the soldier folded the message and raised his hand into a salute. "Carry on your duties, healers", they added and left back on their merry way shouting their message across the keep.

"They just have to come by and harass the suffering, don't they..." the worker that had showed their dislike at the messenger's actions muttered under their breath and measured another length of bandage while shaking their head again. Some of the previously sleeping wounded had been awakened and added their own grunts of pain into the already death-heavy atmosphere of the room. Someone gestured towards Hurrik, the message being more or less "back to work or out of the way".

---

On the battlements, the governor stared towards the small light away from his dear town, the source of which had to be the caravan his new specialist had to have come from. The governor could only hope that their luck would be better than that of the guard of Greenest... and that with the help of this group Trear had come this far in that burning mess they could hold, even against the threat of the dragon in the sky. That was, if the group truly was made of heroes and wouldn't simply refuse and hide for their lives. He wouldn't blame them for that. But he dared hope.

[Raijinslayer]

Hurrik didn't respond at first, eyes closed as he thought on the matter, but before he could respond, a guardsman came in with a proclamation for the man's group. A loud proclamation at that, disturbing the work and rest of everyone in the infirmary. Ignoring the gestures from one of the medics, the dwarf would get to his feet, stretching his limbs that were still stiff from hours of bending over bodies.

"I'm doing little help here, so why not help you all in stopping the problem at it's source. Hurrik would look over the many poor souls collected in the infirmary, most clinging on to life by a hairsbreadth, and a good number of them no closer to surviving their wounds then before. Patching up the wounded won't mean much if we don't take care of that damnable beast and its horde.

He was about to make his way out the door and to the governor's office when he realized he'd forogtten a rather important detail. After a few moments of wondering whether it was worth the hassle of addressing himself, he turned to face the man behind him.

"Name's Hurrik, what's yours?

[@Harbinger of Ferocity]

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

"Brannor." The imposing, armored man replied as he removed his grasp from the necklace.

The symbol's luster having returned, no longer caked or smeared with fouling dragon blood, his hands fell to his sides idly. The summoning guardsman was as much a blessing as he was a curse, for while his voice spurred the reminder there was work to be done, it forced Brannor to recall that he and his compatriots were only so ready at the moment. Perhaps the governor of the keep and its city could spare, at minimum someone with restorative prowess if the dwarf was more the fighter and less a healer as he proclaimed to be.

He strode to the smaller, burly man's side, looking back across his shoulder for a moment. The few menders that minded themselves with tending to the wounded were not including the large figure that the champion had seen earlier; it was strange, uncomfortable enough to present his back to it, but there were other matters more pressing it seemed. The worst Brannor could imagine was that the marauders were amassing on the keep in the smoky night, protected by their aerial ally or even their master. He delayed no further, looking to the dwarf in the dim light again.

"I take it that since you claim the forest as your home, you are one of its keepers?"

It was not like the human to begin conversation in this manner, but as with the elf and the half-blooded orc, there was a sense of familiarity to it all. The adornment of animal hides and furs along with the wildness of the red beard, tamed only by wooden charms provided enough added insight that the man was likely a druid or some other adherent to that art. Curious, he went so far as to ask; there was more in common among the two than one might initially think, after all, and those of the druidic art were more few and far between than say the priests of gods.

Gesturing slightly to continue their walking and discussion, the worn chain of his armor clinked slightly as they moved through the stony walls of the citadel; "It is in part what had called me here, at least it was before these dragon-servants attacked."

Brannor admitted as he moved past a few men undoubtedly making themselves ready for whatever would follow next on this night; there weren't many of them, uninjured or readied to arms at least. The enemy had made itself a potent threat between the concealing flames' smoke and the security of their ally drifting across the night. All the same, the sooner he could free of these walls to push the enemy back - with the means to do so - the better. They needed to turn the tide, lest the entire endeavor be lost altogether.

"While these woods are unfamiliar to me, others beyond are not so. So it is strange that I felt any compulsion to be here... which is why I asked earlier." He remarked, furthering down the path he had set himself upon in the discussion.

These matters were all linked as he took it, but that was not a difficult question for him to start - if they truthfully were or not - as he wore his faith in this inwardly and outwardly; a man adorned in the trappings of the natural world physical and that supernatural too. There was not a reason to doubt him, at least on these matters, for few men's blood ran so primal and blessed that it gave them eyes of gold.

"But it is worrisome these omens - the dragons you've seen, the fight we are still fighting and my calling. I fear we are just getting started..."

@Raijinslayer@Hekazu

[Ryonara]

As Parum was trying to gather information she heard a call for the travelers with Trear. "That would be me." The halfling said to herself. So she went and followed the guard to the ramparts, where she'd meet the governor and the rest of the others. When she arrived she could tell quite easily who the governor was, so she gave him a proper curtsy and introduced herself. "I am Parum, wandering minstrel. I take it that you have a quest for us concerning the dragon?" Of course they would. They, a group of four, managed to escort at least two families through this raided village largely unharmed. Well, personal injuries aside, they weren't dead. Which was a lot more than what could be said for many others in this village. And with the help of this keep and it's resources, Parum was a bit more confident that they could take on this dragon.

[Phoenix]

Ramando was about to leave the room when a soldier rushed by him, almost knocking into him without consideration. He would have let it go if the soldier didn't jolt his attention away from finding the other monks and finding a place to rest for a short while. He spoke with no consideration for the injured and dying. His voice covered the cadences of the stone walls. His words were informal yet unfamiliar. It seemed he was sent here to shout the names the few strangers and then leave.
He'd tried to ignore it, wanting to rest despite his conscience demanding his attention to Brother Waladra. However, a thought, a conspiracy leapt forward in his mind. What if this has anything to do with Leosin or had the possibility of discovering where he disappeared to. Perhaps he was taken by the Kobolds or went to investigate some kind of lead.
The large man tried to play off his curiosity by descending the staircase casually. Still, he made his way to where he believed the others were being gathered. He'd try to keep his distance and his presence unknown, but he was hoping to learn something, anything, about Master Leosin.

Hider

Stealth Roll - 19
Perception Check - 11

[Raijinslayer]

Hurrik nodded rather than answering Brannor's question, already growing tired of speaking. As the walked through the narrow corridors of the keep, Hurrik wondered whether a mission to slay the beast was doomed to failure. He didn't know about his man and his band, but he had no fantasies in his head about being powerful enough to slay a dragon. [color=Green][i]Hopefully, the Governor will have some better idea of how to face off against it, otherwise it might be best to flee while we can. I'd rather if some of these people survived at the cost of others rather than have them all die at the hands of such a sadistic and evil creature.[/color]

As Brannor spoke of his premonitions, hurrik merely gave a non-commital grunt in response. If the beginning of things was a flight of dragons, then he'd rather not be anymore involved then he already was, but he was about to let himself be scared off without at least hearing what the govenor had to say.

[@Harbinger of Ferocity]
@Hekazu

[Lucius Cypher]

Orchid had no luck finding food, and resorted to hanging outside on the battlement. There were plenty of crows and such attracted to the smell of rotting death. They must be waiting for food too. Looking up into the skies Orchid could see nothing bu the dragon flying overhead. No birds, no clouds, no stars. Just that dragon, making himself the ruler of these skies. Orchid did wonder what it was doing here. It was a green dragon, maybe, or perhaps a black dragon? Maybe a red dragon instead? Orchid remembered that the color of a dragon determined what sort of breath it had, so it must have been a red dragon. He was trying to remember because Orchid knew he was going to kill that dragon and eat it. He was so hungry.

So hungry that when a crow landed nearby, Orchid reached out and killed it. He plucked the feathers from it's body and ate it raw. Appropriately barbaric perhaps, but this was just natural for him. Even back at the forest, when he hunted with the elves, for quick food they ate their meat raw. Fire was a sign of life; of danger. Of warmth and home. Of destruction and death. Looking into the village, still set ablaze, Orchid wondered what these fires would become. Would Greenest be reborn from the ashes? Or will it just remain a charred corpse?

Orchid caught and ate a few more birds before he heard Parum's voice not too far away. Wiping the blood from his mouth Orchid turned the corner to see that Parum was speaking to a fancy dressed man. Curious the half-orc approached. "Parum? What happen? We fight more?"

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

"I regret to say that might be the only wise course of action... to withdraw..." The man's voice trailed off, overtly inferring that while the notion of saving some to fight again another day was desirable, even admirable, it might be near impossible to even accomplish such a feat.

What would turn aside the dragon above, to stop it from just pursuing those who were leaving the keep? Mayhap the keep found itself blessed with a secret tunnel or even some form of wizardly portal, but those were fantasies that could not be entertained. The reality was, that beyond most a doubt, attempting to move so many people would likely need be done only under the cover of the smoky night sky and its darkness. Odds that did not favor anyone, even the most quiet of mouths or silent of feet. A dragon was not likely to be so fooled, but Brannor thought and thought again on what other options they could act on.

Unlike others he was not called to fight to the death against the beast on grounds of honor or nobility; there was nothing wrong with keeping the embers going to start a roaring flame another day. Throwing their lives away did little for the good of others in the greater scheme of things if the "survivors" would only just later be captured and perhaps suffer a worse fate for their efforts. What was it the governor had in mind? Whatever it was, as Brannor along with his dwarven company exited to the ramparts, he finished speaking for the moment on the matter.

"But first some thought must be put into our actions to come."

Coming to a halt, he adjusted the leather strapping that held his great weapon to his armor. Noting the halfling, he conjured a slight nod in her direction, but the air smelled... strange. Like fresh blood, the blood of an animal rather than men - birds even. It was such a curious thing that as the ferine paladin looked about, the source in the night's air wandered around a corner and into the open with its powerful silhouette and questioning tone. There was no doubt that the scent wafted from him; from some of the blood that still lingered on his skin but was wiped messily free of his mouth.

Brannor crossed his arms, breathing a sigh of relief that it was the man-orc and not some other thing. It did, in all truth, bring to mind the latent hunger he could feel within his own stomach, but the hunt was far from over; he could not simply have eaten... he could, but not that he would. There were some things one could and could not ably do in these situations.

"I am summoned." He said plainly with the slight dip of his head, moving voice making him recognizable if his large figure, armored and armed was not enough.

@Ryonara@Phoenix@Raijinslayer@Lucius Cypher@Hekazu

[Hekazu]

As the governor heard the unfamiliar voices address him form behind his back, he let a small smile briefly visit his visage. As he turned around, it was already gone but some of his other features would be unlikely to be missed: The right side of his face and head in general was bandaged and his right arm hanged in a sling. Some splatters could be seen in his light blue tunic and assuming them to be his blood would probably not stray too far from the truth.

"So, you are the companions of this one Trear Oakfell, are you not?" the governor began, but then noticed the dwarf they had already talked with earlier. "Oh, and you too Hurrik. To be honest, this does not surprise me. Nevertheless, I do believe I should give an answer to your question, Parum." He sighed before continuing: "I wish we could do something about the dragon, but it is much too powerful for you to deal with. Many men have already died to it... I would be no leader to send troops on a suicide mission. No, what I have in mind for you is something more akin to what you have already been through. I would like to request you to temporarily step under my command and deal with threats that may present themselves outside of the keep."

He quickly glanced over the expressions of the group before him, before adding the last piece of information: "But first we will need to find a safe way out. If you were to accept, you would most likely have some time to rest before becoming the heroes this town needs at this hour." A concerned look crept onto the governor's face, amplifying the already showing age of the man. He could only wait for their hopefully positive response as his beloved Greenest stood beyond the walls of the keep, in flames.

What Ramando heard

While Ramando did not hear the message word for word, he can undoubtedly piece together that the governor is trying to recruit people to do rescue missions and the like.

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

"I wish we could do something about the dragon, but it is much too powerful for you to deal with. Many men have already died to it... I would be no leader to send troops on a suicide mission."

The sensibility of the governor in question was firmly established as his wounded lips spoke those words unto the group before him, at least in the eyes of the wilderness' warrior. They might have a chance then, something in the slightest if they were intent on avoiding the monstrous being and its wrath. There could be time for justified revenge to come, but for now it was safest to adhere to what the man had said in his other proposal; it was not suicidal, at least for the moment. Brannor could see little fault with being granted some direction by perhaps Greenest's last ruling official, as there was little he knew of the place in complete.

The man's concerns played themselves out into his expression, of which worried they - this entourage of outsiders - might decline to rescue what was left of the city he was charged with. A legitimate concern, given how worse for wear they were as well and the fact that not all of them might be "heroes"; Brannor certainly did not consider himself one. He was a knight of the wild, sworn to the world outside the city, but enemies of life and light - the very nature of the darkness that resided in the creatures here in their assault - gave him common ground and a stake in the battle playing out.

"There is still work to be done against these creatures. I am willing to continue my efforts against them, injured as I might be." Brannor said almost plainly.

Based upon the look of the governor and the infirmary, the survivors were woefully without anyone to restore them it seemed; it became increasingly calling for desperation, things that might not regularly be considered. He was left to wonder just how much more the orc, other than himself, could stand as well for the servants of the dragon had beaten them both mercilessly with every frantic blow - or lucky one in the man's case - that they could muster. It did not change his demeanor however and the large, strangely eyed human said nothing more.

@Ryonara@Phoenix@Raijinslayer@Lucius Cypher@Hekazu

[Lucius Cypher]

Orchid shrugged his shoulders at the mayor's plan. While Orchid would admit he's in no state to fight a dragon now while he's hungry and hurt, a good night's rest and a full belly would have him in fighting shape in no time. Orchid figured that if they killed the dragon now, who presumably lead these raiders, then they would leave too. Without the fire support of the beast, the group and the fort's militia could probably take on the rest of the raiders and clear out Greenest. Still, fighting the raiders and weakening them was also an idea Orchid could back. Getting the civilians out of the way was also helpful. Orchid just hoped that the Mayor's plan wasn't to simply abandon Greenest to these vandals. While it's not Orchid's home, he finds the idea of abandoning one's home to be disgusting.

"Okay. Orchid kill bad guys. People safe after bad guys dead. Oh! Orchid and everyone came with caravan. Maybe they help?" Orchid did wonder what became of the caravan they came with. Hopefully they were still alive. Orchid remembered that they had more guards with them then what came into the village. If they were here, they could help bolster the defenses of the fortress, as well as continue their actual business of trading with Greenest. Though maybe now wasn't the best time for such things. "What you know about bad guys? We see little dragons, and normal people. Bad people, we kill. But Orchid think bad people have something important, didn't see. Little dragon people take first." Orchid vaguely remembered seeing some of the kobolds take something off the dead raiders the group had killed before fleeing. It could have been anything, but Orchid had a good idea that it was important.

[Ryonara]

"Ah. Well, that makes sense, actually." Parum wasn't going to admit that she was slightly disappointed that they weren't going to fight a dragon, but this would be a safer and sensible way to deal with the situation. Besides that, Parum barely has a clue about how to properly fight kobolds, let alone dragons. Aside from a fort Parum wasn't even sure if they had weapons that could pierce the dragon's scales while it was flying. But while they may have to deal with the dragon sooner or later, it was more pertinent that they get the villagers out first.

"I accept as well. We'll need some time to plan, as well as take stock of what we can do to get out of here. In the mean time, I'll do whatever I can to make sure everyone is safe. If you have anything that could help use do that, equipment, information, anything at all, we'll need it. I don't know if I could live with myself if I can't help Greenest out of this mess." Parum was scared. If she was simply fighting to get away, she would have gotten over it and been a mile away from here. But she had just volunteered to stay and fight and was putting up a brave front. But what else could she do? She certainly couldn't abandon them now, not while they need her. And while Parum might not be able to do much, she'll do as much as she can.

[Hekazu]

With each agreement to help in the fight, the governors worried expression shifted to relief and even a faint trace of happiness. Perhaps there was hope yet. Once the other three had had their word, Nighthill nodded and spoke, glancing at Hurrik: "And I trust I need not even ask you, Hurrik?" The dwarf raised his hand in the air before moving it onto his chin, signalling that he still needed to think about it.

A moment of silence passed with just the beating of the dragon's wings and the distant crackling of fire and shouts of both raiders and guards alike filling the background, but after a short while the dwarf raised his gaze to meet the one of the governor and answered his question: "Nahh, cannot do. The wounded still need tending... especially if more will be brought in. My best course of action is to remain in the infirmary, even if it pains me to stay back and not participate in the fighting." The governor nodded with a slight hint of sadness in his gesture, but he had to agree with the dwarf.

"Well then... Brannor, Orchid, Parum... you go get some rest. The castellan, Escobert by name, will seek you once we have something prepared for you", Nighthill instructed before sighing and continuing: "As much as I would love to see if the rest of the caravan can be of assistance... I'm not sure if we can spare the troops to go check on them. We can only hope." The governor then turned to face his town again and waved his healthy hand to dismiss the group for now. It was a painful decision, but he couldn't risk it.

[Phoenix]

Ramando's thick toes sank into the soft dirt beneath him. He pressed his knees against the logs of firewood separating himself from the meeting to which he was not invited. Flakes of wood poked into his skin, though would not penetrate. His hands rest on two longs slightly longer than the others. He kept his head just below the top of the pile, which, ultimately, impeded on his ability to hear the meeting clearly. The darkening evening made it virtually impossible to read lips from this distance, not that he was attempting such.
All he could really make out was they were sending this small group on rescue missions. That, in itself, was all he needed to know. He probably wouldn't even have to request a special search for Master Leosin. Still, if he could get in on this search party, he'd feel of much better use than running around for the nurses in the infirmary.
He slinked out from behind the woodpile and walked through the mudding dirt and toward the small meeting. He'd hoped he wasn't rude for spying, but his intentions were well enough. "Sir, Lord," he bellowed with an odd level of assertion. His brows pinched together with focus and some kind of determination. But it was merely the attempt at trying to find the correct title to call the Governor, having not even known he was the Governor or that there was a Governor of Greenest.
"I'd like to volunteer for your search efforts." Anyone who'd seen him trying to move silently through the Keep might have been surprised by the command in his voice. His clothes lacked formality, but being a monk, that was usually excused. He raised his large arm as if he was in academy though he'd never attended one, himself.
He wasn't the least bit embarrassed by his hiding and eavesdropping, it seemed. He was determined to help where he could. Sitting in a keep and looking over a broken body didn't do much for his sense of self-worth. Actively aiding others to safety would be the best use of his talents. He'd hoped the Governor could see this and accept his joining of this rescue party.

[The Harbinger of Ferocity]

Observing as discerningly as he could muster, the warrior wondered what it was that Orchid had been referring to. The kobolds had made off with something? It was not beyond their mettle to flee when overcome, but the way the man-orc portrayed it suggested there was more than just that to the matter. He trusted, as much as he could with how little he knew of Orchid, that the tale was true; the man seemed too honest and direct to have made such a specific detail up. It did warrant a greater question as to why this was all transpiring yet, but it would need wait until they acted on the governor's direction - hopefully something that would provide greater insight.

What Brannor was not ready for was the dwarf's change of heart, but this was not nearly as surprising; the sturdy man with his red beard had been flustered the entirety of the time. He imagined him to have been the kind that would've been pacing and muttering under his breath between his work. Not the restful sort in the slightest.

With a wave of his still functioning hand, the head of the townsmen and city of Greenest prepared to send them away... at first. Just as Brannor was more than willing to be dismissed, turning at point to prepare himself to delve again into the keep, a familiar figure emerged from its hiding place and loudly spoke its presence. It was neither quite human or quite giant, something of a bit of both with its pronounced features and its humble clothes.

"Sir, Lord, I'd like to volunteer for your search efforts."

The newcomer's arm raised adamantly as a pledge along with his words; he was obviously unsure how to profess his investment in the endeavors to come but had not a shred of shame. Whatever the giant's motivations were, they were determined to say the very least of them. This did little to change Brannor's reaction however, as he came to idle uncomfortably observing the exchange that was now unfolding before the three remaining members of the caravan. As while the governor did not seem to be the sort so forward and dedicated to formality, or have the luxury to select those his people so needed in this invasion, the intrusion was still a bit surprising; was the man watching them the whole time?

Brannor, gritting his jaw ever so slightly, refrained from making any other judgment until he knew better. Either way, the golden eyed man was not fond of being watched in secret...

@Phoenix@Hekazu@Ryonara@Lucius Cypher

[Lucius Cypher]

Orchid nodded his head. He suppose the mayor was right that the caravan might be too far out and too big to get through as easily as they did. Orchid only hoped that they managed to stay alive. He was also curious about what a "castellan" was, but Orchid guessed (And hoped) that it was a fancy human word for cook. Orchid was ready to leave when a stranger arrived. A big man, just as big as Brannor, who wanted to help fight. Orchid had no problems with this; the more the merrier. Ideally they could even get all the warriors here in this keep and attack all their enemies at once, but Orchid had doubts about how possible that'd be. "Hi! Orchid my name. You fight with us? That good."

Nodding his head the half-orc's stomach growled. He was starting to get hungry again, and the raw bird he ate just wasn't fulfilling. But if the cook was still cooking, then Orchid supposed that all he could do is wait as well. "Orchid wait at big door, near big fire." Wandering off Orchid went back to the gates seeking that bonfire he vaguely remembered some of the guards make. Or maybe it was a torch that, in his pained and hungered stupor, Orchid thought was much bigger than it was.