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7 yrs ago
Current Sorry for my lack of posts lately. I've just... been struggling to get the energy to write something up. I'm trying some new meds through so hopefully that will change soon.
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The Mustaqilun Tribe [Turn 11]


Riverforge


The dark weapons that were employed by the zealous followers of the Dark One tended towards the metal, but Rukdug had asked for someone to recreate the soul destroying curses that the cult employed in its weapons and even if they were crafted from wood he had gotten the results he had wanted... and considering the words of the Butcher and the way that the axe that had actually worked looked after the test, there might have been more secrets to the cursed weapons then he had thought previously.

However, this didn't relieve one of his newest concerns; While in their base form the wooden axes were beautiful to look at, without the cursed enchantments that were required of them they were next to worthless as far as he was concerned as a battlefield weapon. Not against enemies that were actually equipped for battle at any rate... and there weren't enough test subjects to try the weapons out on without risking starvation. Some brief counting however gave him a rather simple solution to his problem.

Taking the working axe from the butcher and clearly claiming it for himself, he made his intentions clear "We can spare ten piglets. Alongside this axe, I want at least ten axes that are confirmed to be enchanted ready and waiting to be given out to people of my choosing. If an axe doesn't work, make a note of it and give it to the charcoalers. We'll figure out how many actually useful axes we've got when we've got the time and test subjects."

Alongside any axe that didn't work, he also made it clear that any 'scrap wood' from the shaman's practices was now free to be turned into charcoal as well. Waste not, want not after all. As for the shaman in question: Rukdug had promised rewards for his success and the orc had pulled through. The shaman would be promoted to the head of a small order of shamans for Riverforge that would be tasked with understanding and practicing the darker aspects of magic and shamanism; To ignore or remain ignorant of the darker powers invited those would didn't shy away from such things to have an advantage over Orcish kind, but not everyone had the mental fortitude to study such things... and even fewer not to be consumed by them. These shamans of shadow would have to be carefully tested and vetted.

The failure to find my resources to speed up production was annoying, but something that sadly could not be helped. If there was no coal, there was no coal. They did have the means to smelt and produce bronze goods through, but time and resources were factors that he needed to consider. He needed to arm and armor up a fighting force for war and he didn't know how long he had to that bloody bird and his wretched goblins started to lean on him to hurry up.

Bronze was not a good choice for orcish weapons; Sure, bronze could easily be used to make sample weapons, it couldn't really be used to make the larger weapons of war that orcs could benefit from wielding in battle. Plus it helped that pretty much every orc in Riverforge already owned a weapon they could wield, even if it meant that they lacked uniformity in such a matter. So when Rukdug went to talk with the smiths, he made his order quite clear: Focus on crafting armor and shields. Bronze armor was better then no armor and enough properly made shields could develop an effective front line in a battle. Any basic maintenance they could do with the weapons that they currently had was also to be done.

...........................................................................................

Pak was no fool. A bit too prideful for his own good maybe, but not a fool.

After the bird and his followers had left them to their own devices, he had arranged their camp in such a way as to hide the insides of the tents away from the prying eyes of any scouts or the gathering throng of strangely well fed bandits. Most of his forces had been hidden in the tents to not only make it appear as if there were far less orcs at the camp then there actually were, but also to try and give them some degree of element of surprise when the battle started.

They had even taken the time before the bandits had arrived to come up with a number of plans in the event of different situations. If the so called 'Bandit King' had failed to show... or if their 'allies' had pulled a disappearing act of their own. Granted these plans largely boiled down to 'kill 'em all', 'kill enough of them to make them run away or 'kill enough of them so we can run away', but at least the plans were in place.

There was also another aspect of the defile that they had discovered fairly quickly and in turn figured out how to use in their favor under certain situations; The defile had an echo to it.

Soon through, the bandits arrived in force. Dozens upon dozens appearing and taking up positions so close but with enough command not to charge. The reason for their strangely good self discipline appeared even before the rest of his forces came in, easily standing at double the height of the bandits themselves as what could only have been the self proclaimed 'Bandit King' came forward to brag and bluster.

He made his claims about slaying the bird, but Pak didn't seem all that heartbroken by the idea. In fact, he handed off the whistle to one of the few orcs that he had outside of the tents before taking several steps forward, absolutely no fear appearing on his face as he inspected the horde before him. "You know, I long had my doubts about that bird. But if he was blind and deaf enough to allow such a large, brightly colored tub of lard like yourself sneak up on him then he was a fairly shrak ally in the first place and won't be missed."

Without missing a beat, he started to slowly stroll to the side, his stance and movement displaying what could only be called a confident, cocky swagger that easily bled into his voice as he took advantage of the acoustics of the defile to make his voice easy to hear without yelling "Through if there is one thing I can compliment you on, it's the fact that you clearly... humble enough to know when a foe is too much for you. I mean, you took all this time and effort to gather all of this-" He gestured at the army of bandits standing behind the Oni "- just to throw them at us to tire us out before risking a direct fight. It's a good idea honestly... unless..."

Trailing off for a moment, he stopped his swaggering motions for a second before continuing "Unless... you actually look behind you and see an army?" An evil little smirk appeared on Pak's face as his tone lost all pretense of the jolly mocking that it had before. "Because all I see when I look behind you, 'Bandit King', is fear and dead men."

The speech and the grand standing had a couple of purposes to it; The first was to convey to the troops hidden in the tents what the situation was while delivering some chosen phases to let them know what the enemies layout was... as was as let them know that the Oni leader of this 'army' was front and center while secondly pumping them up for the fight that was about to happen. The third was to unnerve the human bandits since, while they clearly had numbers on their side... if the leader of the camp they were about to attack was this dismissive of them then clearly he knew something that they didn't... but that was an optional goal.

The fourth and actually important goal was to put the Bandit King in a position where he could do only one of three things:

1) He could let his anger get the better of him and charge right into a fight, hopefully his anger causing him to make mistakes in the melee while the orc that he had handed the whistle to would blow it and the orcs would spring into battle.

2) The Bandit King would order his men to attack... thus proving that there was truth in Pak's words that he was afraid to fight this camp upfront himself, thus weakening his authority in the eyes of his followers... at which point the whistle would be blown and the battle would begin proper.

3) The Bandit King would leave his lines to challenge Pak to a one on one duel in order to answer the challenge to his authority and prove to his followers that he was still as powerful and fearless as their leader needed to be... at which point the whistle would be blown and the orcs would start the battle.

1 and 3 had the benefit that the Oni would be away from his lines and thus be in the best possible position to be overwhelmed and killed by the orcs alone in the event that his claims about killing their 'allies' proved true; Even if death wasn't as large an issue for Oni as the goblins claimed, seeing their leader fall would still send a massive shock wave through his followers. Option 2 would result in a more drawn out, bloody fight but if their faith in their leader is shaken the bandits would be more inclined to break and flee.

The dice was cast.. it was time to see where the numbers fell.


Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter

Interacting: Aromull@TheDoctor

Bartolomeo had gotten as far as putting the saddle on his horse before the situation had clearly gone to all kinds of shit. For a moment in the relative calmness of the stables while the town was being actively assaulted by goblins, the young noble took a moment to look up towards the ceiling and just... sigh. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, stepped away from the horse and started to walk towards the street.

In those few steps as he walked away from his mode of transport, a subtle change seemed to come over Bartolomeo; No longer was he the meek, haunted young man who seemed more at home in a library then at the Witches Paradise. Instead as he opened his eyes his face was nothing but the picture image of ruthless contempt, seemingly standing taller then before as he was no longer making the sub-consequence effort to make himself look smaller then he was. Turning the handle of his cane and drawing a beautifully embodied steel blade, he wielded sword in one hand and what was effectively a silver club in the form of the rest of the cane in the other. Gone was the noble boy who was 'playing' hunter... and out of the stable stepped a man mentally and physically prepared for war.

As he walked into the chaotic mess that was the goblin invasion, Bartolomeo's attention turned towards the scholorly man from the Paradise who had clearly gotten in over his head... even if he seemed too stupid to understand the danger that he was clearly in. He didn't run towards the man through; Instead his pace was more of a forceful stride, clearly much faster then simply walking but the kind of pace that could be kept up for hours without tiring.

Making a beeline towards the scholor, he decided to turn his focus on the vile little shits that were trying to pin him down, pulling the hand holding the silver club that was the base of his cane back in order to wind up a swing at the back of the head of the goblin trying to pin down his sword hand... and connected with a sickening crunch. Pulling the club hand back for another swing at a new target, he lunged with his blade over the man towards the goblin trying to restrain the other arm; In the contest of well made steel vs goblin skull, steel clearly won. The sword sticking through the goblin's head and being pretty much the only thing still holding up the corpse, Bartolomeo's expression of contempt remained as he flicked his arm to the side, -dragging- the goblin in that direction until the sword freed itself from the body by sundering half of the creatures head... and putting the hunter in perfect position to swing the club at a third goblin to give the scholor some much needed breathing room to fight back and get up on his feet again.

............................................................................
Draco Russ, Hunter

Interaction: Flint@Aerandir

Stepping out of the Witches Paradise, Draco was glad that he had lost his sense of smell years ago. He hadn't encountered goblins before he lost the ability to detect scents, but from what he had heard they smelt absolutely foul. At that moment through, their odor wasn't the biggest issue.

Removing his saw-cleaver from his belt, he slowly turned his gaze around to see where he might best be used... before he spotted the very same man who had come into the Paradise injured and with tales of a pack of wendigo's after somehow embedding himself into a wooden wall back first with goblins closing in on him. Feeling like getting the idiot out of the wall would be a good thing under the circumstances (even more so since the nice healer woman had put so much effort into saving his dumb ass and his sister would be upset if he died), Draco started his charge towards the goblins trying to take advantage of the situation.

His footsteps caught the attention of one of the pair of goblins moving towards Flint, causing the foul little creature to turn around... and caught what was effectively a specially decided saw right in its throat, both collapsing its throat and ripping it out at the same time. Pulling the cleaver back for an overhead swing, a novice would have recognized that the target goblin seemed to far away to hit... at least, until the blade of the saw-cleaver extended and almost doubled it's reach. Catching the goblin completely by surprise, the heavy hunk of metal slammed through its skull and embodied itself in its head, splitting it open like an executioners axe on a watermelon. Pulling the blade (and thus the body) closer to himself, Draco wasted no effort in kicking the corpse off to land on the ground before flicking the blade to get the gunk off it... and cause it to fold back up into its original state.

Looking at Flint, he sighed a little as he walked over and lifted a foot up to brace it against the very wooden wall that he had gotten stuck in before offering a hand. "You've really got to stop getting yourself stuck in messes like this." He teased as he got ready to pull and try and get the idiot unstuck and free.
Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter

Interaction:@Fetzen, @Aerandir

After his confession, it didn't take long for Bartolomeo to notice Andvari being distracted from their conversation by the announcement of a hunt for Wendigos. While he noticed a few hunters raise their hand (metaphorically anyway) for the task, the young noble shook his head as he used the table to push himself to his feet. "Forgive me, but I do have business elsewhere to attend to Bobby. I need to visit a noble scholor I know who's obsession with the occult and rituals is... mostly harmless, but he might have some insight into what the nature of the ritual at Goldencrest was about and I would rather speak to him while as many of the details are still fresh in my mind as possible. I'll try to return as soon as I can, but I must be away. I bid you all farewell until then."

Raising his hat and offering a small bow, he turned towards the door to walk out into the night, cane still firmly in hand as he went to go mount the horse that he had ridden into town on. He had far to go and not enough time to do it in after all.

Draco Russ, Hunter

Interacting with:@TheDoctor@ghastlyInc@Kitty@Aerandir

To say that Draco didn't exactly believe the injured hunter on the ground would have been an understatement when he said that it had been a pack of three wendigos that had almost done him in. Wendigos were solitary hunters and tended to kill each other in the rare case where two of them actually met... but if his time as a hunter and his learning about the family histories were to be believed, odd things could happen every once in a while. If you didn't account for the unexpected, the unexpected would claim your life.

As the call for a hunt was given by Bobby, Draco more then happily nodded his head and answered it. "I've hunted one or two wendigos before and I'm happy to do so again. If for no other reason then to try and get to the bottom of the mystery of why it appears that three of the damn things working together." His commitment given, he turned his head to look at the girl with the red hood whom he had been trying to comfort and distract earlier, giving a small gesture to beckon her over as he said "Your brother should be stable enough for you to come sit and talk with him now."
Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter

Interacting with: @Fetzen

Sighing a little, Bartolomeo finally decided to answer the newly named Andvari as he introduced himself as "Bartolomeo. Bartolomeo Peckish. I am a hunter but... I'll admit I'm kind of new to it. I'm sorry if I'm not my normal self at the moment but... I was apart of the group that traveled to Goldencrest and... well, this is the first time I've... seen so much death in one place before. Still... coming to terms with such vindictive slaughter."

Having admitted to what he was feeling, Bartolomeo didn't bother trying to hide what he was feeling from his expression anymore; He felt tired... confused... still a little sick, even if he was fairly certain that he was past the point of throwing up anymore.

......................................................................................................

Draco Russ, Hunter

Interacting with:@TheDoctor@ghastlyInc@Kitty@Aerandir

Moving the big man onto the floor completed, Draco stood up as he finally decided to ask a very important question. "Are you sure you were attacked by Wendigos? As in plural." Turning to look at the scholorly looking guy who was asking questions about them, he decided to do some filling in on the matter. "Wendigos are created when a human is forced into cannibalism for an extended period of time... normally in an isolated area like a lumber camp or a mine. Somewhere that's easy for a group of people to get stuck with low supplies. However, they tend to be solo hunters by nature; In almost all cases where a group has been forced into cannibalism to survive to the point Wendigos start to develop, the first one to transform either murders everyone else there before they can transform or the humans kill the newly formed Wendigo and that cycle continues until either they are saved, everyone dies before they can transform or one of them successfully turns and murders everyone else."

Taking a deep breath to let that sink in, he finished by saying "It's insanely rare for more then one Wendigo to be in an area. Normally after one establishes itself, it kills off any humans who enter the area afterwards before they have a chance for the food supplies to get low."
Goblin Gredy


Gredy shrugged a little at the statement, not seeming... all that broken up about the idea that those he had been with were dead. "Yeah I... kind of came to that conclusion a while ago. It's sad and I'll miss them but... well, right now worrying about them isn't going to help me." As it became clear that he was expected to work for his lodgings and food, he nodded his head in complete understanding. "Yeah I figured. What do you need me to do currently? Cause I'm not going to lie, some food and water would be amazing right now."

@Jangel13

Draco Russ, Hunter


Interacting with @Kitty@Aerandir

While he was quiet during the girl's interaction with her wolf and while she was telling the tale of where she had gotten her hood, Draco's cloth face mask shifted a little as he offered her a smile. The movement however betrayed a fact about the mask that some people might have overlooked at a distance but became easier to spot closer up; Where there should have been a bump in the cloth where his nose was meant to be, it was flat.

Seemingly lack of nose aside, his voice still carried good cheer as he finally answered "If I wasn't sure already that your mother must be a talented hunter in her own right, the fact that she knew how to create an piece of clothing that could survive several years on the hunt would betray it. Only a tailor who's been on the hunt themselves really knows what conditions they work is going to be facing."

Before he had the chance to say anything more, the girl's brother seemed to come around... and within about a minute or two of waking up, somehow ended up face first in the lap of the woman who had treated him. Granted his cursing about Wendigos had caused his mind to race with possibilities, those could wait a moment as he sighed as muttered respectfully to the girl "Please excuse me one moment, I'll be right back." before pushing himself to his feet and walking over to the injured hunter and the healer who clearly didn't know how to respond to the situation she was in.

Reaching down to grab the large man under the armpits to heave him away from the woman's lap and carefully try and lay him out on the floor in the number of seconds he could support his weight, he playfully chastised "I know a lot of hunters can spend months, if not years in the wilderness without seeing a friendly face, but you're in civilization now. It's generally considered polite to ask a woman out for dinner... or a least a drink before you try your hand like that, you cheap bastard."
Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter

Interacting with: @Fetzen

Blinking a little as someone had actually taken the time to come over to him, Batholomeo turned his attention towards the new comer; The interaction seemed to snap him out of the state that he had been in moments prior. Shifting the cane a little, he placed it end first on the floor; The rattle of metal as it made contact with the ground easily betrayed the fact that it was both A)Hollow and B) contained a hidden compartment of some kind, likely a blade of some sort.

"Hmm? Oh sorry. Was just staying out of people's way while keeping an eye out for anything nasty." He answered somewhat softly, clearly not wishing to distract anyone nearby whom might be doing something important.
Bartolomeo Peckish, Hunter


As the large man who had clearly been attacked by something and followed by a large wolf kicked open the door, closed it behind him and then passed out, Bartolomeo had remained in his seat. If asked about it later he would have said with complete honesty it had been because he had wanted to stay out of the way of the healer woman that had clearly stepped up to rush to his aid, as well as those hunters closer to the man who had gone to move him to a better place to treat him.

However, any eye that had bothered to glance his way during the chaos would have seen the truth; He had frozen at the sight. His inexperience had betrayed him as it was clear from the lost look on his face that he didn't know what to do in this situation and thus... did nothing. Granted, this wasn't the worst thing that he could have done since there were clearly enough people already jumping in to help the man that his well meaning but untested assistance would have merely caused more harm then good but that didn't change the fact that he just sat there, watching and listening with baited breath to find out what had happened as a gloved hand squeezed around the head of his sliver plated sword cane, bringing the weapon to rest on his lap so that it would be close at hand.

............................................................

Draco Russ, Hunter

Interacting with: @Kitty,@Ellion

The name 'The Pack' rang a bell of ill omen in Draco's mind, through it wasn't something that he had encountered personally before. The rare times when enough members of the Russ family had gathered together to classify as a reunion, stories of a group of so called 'hunters' who were more animal then man would be told from time to time. More often then not, the stories had ended somewhat badly with at least one person who was needlessly dead because of either personal disagreements or simple mistaken identity while in the field hunting actual monsters, not some lunatic wishing they were one.

However, before Draco could have done anything with this new found knowledge, a man kicked in the tavern door while being badly injured and possibly on death's door himself. In the chaos that followed, Draco had stayed out of the throng of bodies that had rushed forward to aid the man or aim themselves to go out and try and find the thing that did it. Draco did neither of these things; Granted his weapon hung from his belt, so in the event that whatever had tried to kill the man assaulted the town or tavern in force he would be able to arm and step into action within a heart beat, but right now his focus and desire to help the situation rested in a different direction.

Walking over to the waitress in the red hood who was currently trapped by a large wolf that had been one of the first to rush over to the injured man's side (clearly more distressed then just a random onlooker would have been for his well being), the masked man took a seat next to her. Originally his attention remained on the proceedings to see how the medical treatment was going, but soon he turned his attention to the girl wearing red. When he spoke, his voice was soft in his attempt to be comforting. The look in his eyes betrayed his intentions: He was trying to distract her from what was happening because there was nothing worse then seeing a loved one be hurt like this and being unable to do anything to help them. "I know this must seem like the strangest time for me to ask but... where did you get your hooded cloak from? It seems like it's really warm and well made and the shade of red suits you nicely."
Draco Russ, Hunter

Interactions and possible interactions with @Cryptek12, @ghastlyInc,@Aerandir

Having had his conversation with Bobby interrupted, Draco turned his head to look at the younger man whom had claimed to have seen the kind of creature that he was looking for. At first, he had looked at the kid with respectful interest... but it quickly became clear that the more he talked, the less that the masked hunter was trying to maintain either respect or interest. The turning point was easy enough to see; He had opened his mouth to ask questions about the 'scaled human' but the boy had kept talking and... well, he was either trying to brag and make himself look like a 'big bad hunter'... or he was insane. Considering the fact that he appeared to be wielding a pair of frying pans and the story he was telling (as well as the boy himself) grew less and less believable.

Without a word and a clear look of disbelief in his eyes, Draco turned back to Bobby. However, before he could pick the conversation back up with big B himself, a new contender caught Draco's attention for... much different reasons then the boy from before. Slowly turning his head towards the man who was sniffing people and acting in an animal like way, he couldn't but stare at him blankly for a few moments as the gears in his brain turned in circles trying to work out just what the hell it was witnessing with his own eyes.

Finally turning back to look at Bobby, he honestly looked confused as he asked "...Bobby, did you hire some entertainers or something to pretend to be parodies of common things that hunters would encounter for the sake of moral? Because I'm struggling to comprehend a world where an actual werewolf would be stupid enough to come in here and act like that."
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